#it costs her the lives of her children + her supposed mate’s support
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ails-of-ardor-au · 5 months ago
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Oooooo! I'm very curious about characters like Mapleshade in this au. Since it was mention having kits with other clans is fine, but not romance, would she need to hide anything? She could claim she didn't know what Appledusk did, or denounce him
Maybe do something dramatic to prove her loyalty? I feel like a lot of things could change in this au, since the leader would have no kits. Maybe Appledusk takes her role instead? From what I gathered in the book, he's more of a coward and manipulative, not afraid to throw others under the bus or hide behind them to get away with things. If he claims Maple loved him, when the topic of kits came up, but she rejects, maybe it sets off a chain of events when his other mate overhears?
I do love the idea of Appledusk turning out to be more of the villain… However, it’s not as simple as just shuffling roles around here
I don’t think that Mapleshade, who was utterly convinced that Appledusk loved her and wanted to be with her, would lie about who sired her litter if she was directly asked; I think she’d keep her mouth shut until someone asked, point-blank, if they were also of RiverClan blood. In addition, at the time that Mapleshade’s kits were born, tensions with RiverClan were high; choosing to unveil the fact that her kits were half-Clan at a time in which the two Clans were seconds away from declaring full-blown war specifically because of Birchface’s death, ThunderClan’s deputy, at the hands of the litter’s father would be a huge mistake.
In a game of love and politics, politics usually proves heavier, as it affects more people — or, in this case, cats.
But rest assured, no matter what, even if Mapleshade stays the unfortunate villain in this story, the actions of those around her will not be blindly rewarded.
(More in tags)
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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years ago
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hey!! Your fic recommendations are always elite–I was wondering if you had any kid fics, thank you <3
Hi anon. I have plenty of kid fics for you. Since you didn't quite specify what kind of kid fic you wanted I decided to divide it into fics where Charles and Erik are kids or get deaged and fics that involve kids. This is kind of a long list so I hope that there are plenty of new fics for you to read.
Cherik Kid Fic
--They are kids or get deaged--
Conspiracy of Kisses - Alaceron
Summary: Seven-year-old Erik needs to keep his telepathic best friend Charles from finding out that he wants to kiss him. But that's okay, because he has a plan - he'll put on a tinfoil hat.
Chasing After You - Alaceron
Summary: Charles isn't very good at tag. Erik helps
We’ll be the sum - afrocurl, ninemoons42
Summary: In between bouts of blanket burrito-ing and vegging out on movies, Charles and Erik figure out how they currently feel about each other.
Of course, they're schoolboys and they're on a sleepover and also Edie dotes on them both excessively, so things work out just fine.
Growing pains - ikeracity
Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.
Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.
Valentine’s day – ikeracity
Summary: Kid fic! Erik waits impatiently all day at school to give Charles a card for Valentine's Day. Maybe Charles has something for him too...?
Now You Know You Know it Now – luninosity
Summary: Erik’s not sure why he keeps glancing at the other boy. Not as if Erik likes other kids, or other people in general, for that matter. But still—he finds himself looking. Again.
This Family Comes with Batteries - Fishwrites, lynneh
Summary: An orphaned Charles Xavier goes to live with his Godfather: Tony Stark. This story is a tale of what would have happened to the events of MCU, if Tony was raising a six year old telepath in Stark Tower. There is also the matter of Charles' robot AI manny/bodyguard/tutor/only-friend, David.
You’re Not Doing This Alone – flightinflame, Lynds
Summary: What's meant to be a simple recruitment mission leads to both Erik and Charles being de-aged back to thirteen years old. Terrified and out of their depth, the boys try to hide their situation and help each other until they can work out what is going on.
Charles Xavier, A Retelling – Extra_fried_noodles
Summary: An attempt to reverse his paralysis goes wrong, and Charles is de-aged into a 2 year old toddler. While Hank scrambles to fix the situation, the whole gang is here to help. Through a mix of selective memory, they watch Charles relive his childhood, revealing some deeply hidden and painful truths.
Protective Instinct – Groovyhornbill
Summary: Charles and Erik were testing Cerebro’s new prototype when things went very wrong.
Divergence – Lynds
Summary: Universes and timelines collide, dropping two younger versions of Charles Xavier into the midst of the hunt for Sebastian Shaw. Now the newly formed X-men have to deal with a strangely quiet and self-reliant six year old, and a sixteen year old covered in bruises.
Erik, in particular, has to accept that the man he loves hasn't had the kind, happy upbringing he wished for him. But these children are here now, and Erik's not going to let anyone hurt them this time.
--Where they have kids--
Sink or Swim – endingthemes
Summary: Erik is a struggling single dad of three kids with a burning hatred for Sebastian Shaw, the man who wronged him years ago. He’s tried to move on with his life, but a run-in with Shaw’s rude, spoiled omega, Charles, drags up old anger. When Charles ends up in the hospital after an accident, Erik goes to confront him only to find that Charles has amnesia. In the confusion, Charles mistakenly assumes that Erik is his mate.
Erik knows he should clear up the misunderstanding, but how can he pass up this perfect chance for a little revenge?
(An Overboard AU)
Rumor Has It - blueink3
Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"
"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."
Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.
Words and Pictures – pocky_slash
Summary: When Lorna's powers manifest early, Charles Xavier's mutant picture books are the perfect teaching tool. Erik just hadn't expected the author to be so young. Or attractive. Or available.
Write this number down (you can call it anytime) – pocky_slash
Summary: When Erik upsets his children, they have a habit of running away from home--and straight to Charles' school for cookies and consolation. Charles doesn't mind the visitors, but as they appear more and more frequently, he realizes that sooner or later, he and Erik are going to have to talk about what happened on the beach and what it means for their future and the future of Erik's children.
Dress Your Family in Plaid and Skinny Jeans – cygnaut
Summary: Erik and Charles meet at the mutant playgroup/parenting support circle and they instantly hit it off. And so do their kids, Lorna and David.
Not What I was Expecting (So Much Better) – lazulisong
Summary: Erik, the single father, hires Charles, the grad student with the slightly shady past, to be his manny.
Heli Cases – Black_Betty
Summary: "Heli Cases" is a program on PBS whose aim is to educate on the rapidly increasing occurrence of genetic mutation in the general populous by breaking the complex science down into palatable, easy to digest pieces.
It is also the only thing that helps Erik get his fussy daughter to fall asleep.
(Featuring Dadneto, baby Lorna and the struggles of single fatherhood, and Charles as the host of a late night show about genetics.)
Doing Something for Yourself – Pookaseraph
Summary: Erik is a hard working engineer and single dad, Charles runs a local Community Center where Wanda and Pietro spend their time after school. Erik accidentally makes Charles' acquaintance one Wednesday evening when he's running late from work. Erik has no idea if he stands a chance with his new acquaintance, but that isn't going to keep him from falling for the guy.
A Good Dad – listerinezero
Summary: Ten years later, Magneto has left the Brotherhood and Raven asks Charles to help her find him. Charles discovers that Erik is the single father of five year old twins Wanda and Pietro, and he is doing everything he can to keep them safe from his former enemies.
Take a Chance (On Me) – Ook
Summary: In which Charles, terrorised by his abusive ex, takes his young son to a small town in America, where they both settle down and make friends with their neighbours. Particularly the town mechanic, Erik, and his foster son, Alex. Requester stated they wanted to "drown in H/C. "
Can’t Buy Me Love – niniblack
Summary: Erik's a single dad struggling to make it work and nab the promotion he's been waiting for. The last thing he needs is to get involved with politician and notorious playboy Charles Xavier.
(The Maid in Manhattan pastiche that no one asked for.)
Ohana – royal_chandler
Summary: Erik's children are absolute hellions. If by hellions, one means children who are incredibly protective of their new family unit and won't let a few household mishaps get in the way of keeping it together.
One Second and a Million Miles – magneto
Summary: Between being a parent to the best baby in the history of man-kind and co-running a Mutant Center in Hell's Kitchen, Erik Lehnsherr has his hands pretty full. Too full, certainly for romance; something that has never really been on his radar to begin with.
All that changes, however, when he meets Dr. Charles Xavier. Handsome, intelligent, capable, kind, an Omega level telepath, and one of the best pediatricians in the state, he's everything Erik didn't know he was looking for. But he's also Lorna's pediatrician which means, of course, he's off-limits. Except how is Erik supposed to try and forget his crush when he and Charles keep running into each other as if fate is trying to tell them something? When, as Charles says, they seem to want the same thing?
Her Only Mutations Were Her Blue Eyes and Her Auburn Hair – Pookaseraph
Summary: While sneaking back out of Russia, Erik and Charles stumble across Anya, Erik's presumed dead daughter, and it changes quite a few little things along the way. Fluffy, self-indulgent, fix-it.
Despicably Yours – Cesare, veryorangecat
Summary: Erik Lehnsherr, AKA Magneto, is a supervillain without equal... except maybe one: Charles Xavier, AKA Professor X, AKA Erik's next door neighbor. When their competition heats up, Erik decides the only way to get ahead is to adopt four mutant orphans to infiltrate Charles's mansion.
Things don't go as planned.
The Wrong Impression – Rosawyn
Summary: Charles is trying to balance the responsibilities of his career with his responsibilities as a single father to a tiny baby. It's not something he ever thought he'd have to do, and it's not as easy as those women on the internet make it look! He does't have much of a social life (unless talking to his sister on the phone and attending a parents' class where he's the only guy count), and he doesn't even have time to think of dating. He's just trying to keep his job - and keep his son fed and healthy.
Marrying a Mob – Ook
Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".
Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.
Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.
Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.
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writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 4 years ago
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Prompt List #9 - Historical Aus/Prompts (Requested)
@viseriyen I know your focus was more 18th century France, but I never covered that during my degree, my focus was more 19th century Britain. This has a variety of historical aus/prompts, they won’t all be relevant and I can’t guarantee their historical accuracy for France, but I hope they help, give you ideas etc. 
“I can’t...you know I have no control over my marriage. I can’t even divorce him...I have nothing to hold against him.” “Then give him something to divorce you for.” “And tarnish my good name?” 
AU in which character a is desperately in love with character b, but can’t divorce their husband because divorce laws make it nigh on impossible for ‘wives’ to divorce their husbands without a ‘legitimate reason’. 
Intense heated love letters because we have to keep our distance and can’t do anything that would jeopardise our positions or our reputations. But, I can send you lusty love letters that you hide under your pillow instead. 
Illegitimate child/unwed pregnancy and the trials of being together, loving your child together but knowing they have little standing in society and the way people treat you because of that.
Fan language AU -> https://raulersongirlstravel.com/language-of-fans/#The_Language_of_the_Fan 
My parents are trying to marry me off and you're the latest person they’ve brought to show me off to and I don’t want to like you, but I kind of do. You clearly don’t want to be here anymore than me. 
The smallest touch is the most intense. 
You went off to war and come back after a long campaign the papers have been reporting on. You have appear gruff, mean, and cold to everyone else, but are soft with me. 
The typical trope of hardened, gruff character a who melts around character b. 
(19th c) I’m the town’s school teacher and you’re the gruff wanderer/traveller/cowboy/outlaw/etc. That’s come to town. You help me fix the school house and wrangle the little demons I teach. 
Sweetheart trinkets, like embroidered handkerchiefs, engraved jewellery, hidden message rings, carved trinkets etc. Especially a ‘here I made this for you or I had this made for you’. 
Letters that were never sent. After character a’s death the letters are found and posted to or given to character b revealing the unsaid feelings. 
We compete for top spot in school in spelling, mathematics, science etc. School rivals.
Character a bathing in a river, character b awkwardly stumbling upon them all apologetic or alternatively character a bathing in a river and character b protecting them from some no good ruffians. 
Horse rides; for leisure, maybe character a was stranded and has to share a horse with character b, being stuck in a carriage together. 
Childhood rivals who finally see each other after years of being apart, maybe because of boarding school/finishing school or otherwise. The horrible realisation that your rival is now hot and also can keep up with you in conversation. 
Those gentle kisses to the top of a hand or gentle touches between gloved hands. Gentle hands!!! Gentle kisses!! All demure and totally appropriate but with hidden meaning and heat. 
Childhood friends who haven’t seen each other since they were little and are now betrothed and oh my, you’re beautiful/handsome and I am not prepared for this.
We’re betrothed but have only ever communicated through letters and this is our first ever meeting and i’m petrified you aren’t going to be the person I know through letters
Perfume scented letters, secret code, love poems, and dried flowers. Sent long distances to you with love. 
Contraception catalogues and the very specific packaging of sheaths (aka early condoms) as things like pill boxes, ladies power boxes, cigarettes, etc. to hide them. Do with this as you will. 
I am spinster, you are a bachelor and we have a rivalry because how dare you get paid more than me and while i’m compared to a rotten egg. Alternatively, I am spinster by choice and refuse to marry, but you are making this very very hard. 
Gals being pals, boys being ‘mates’, the known cases of boarding school love between same sex couples and also we’re both spinsters/bachelours and work together in our intellectual studies and we’re totally not in love...no sireee. 
Oscar Wilde had a thing working class and military kink so do with that what you will, i’m sure you could make a upperclass/working class au/couple. One’s rough, resilient, hard working, and one’s dainty, far too spoiled and brattish but they both like each other somehow. 
You’re gruff and rough/snappy, rude, but I can see how sweet you are to horses, animals, kids, and I know there’s a softer side beneath all of that. 
It’s my first ‘season’ and you save me from all these men/women sniffing around me trying to get my attention. 
Scandalous private time i.e. we’re supposed to be chaperoned but here we are in the garden on our own together or in the woods alone or in a small corner without a chaperone and what would people say. 
Character a defending character b’s honour. 
You’re my second in a duel/I’m your second in a duel, please don’t die
All the duels, duelling each other, duelling for the other, defending the other’s honour etc. 
You look beautiful but dear god why are there so many layers! 
I just spent an hour drawing you a bath bucket by bucket because I love you, but i’m a hot mess right now as a result. 
You break social convention for my comfort. I.e. something like you forgo allowing people to watch our wedding night because you want me to be comfortable or you refuse to allow some other stupid tradition that you know scares/intimidates/upsets me. 
Over the top professions of love. 
“I would die, without an answer to my feelings. I would die here. My breath would choke in my throat, my blood run cold, and my selfish heart stop. I cannot live without answer, without knowing whether my feelings are returned or not.” 
Character a being the dotting husband/wife/partner and helping character b get out of all that ridiculous clothing so they can cuddle and sleep. Who needs maids and servants when you have a life partner. 
I want a partnership, a kindred spirit, a soul mate, not a servant.  You want the same thing. I am awed by this.  (possibly + we’re rivals, childhood enemies etc.) 
Your family don’t approve of me, and mine don’t approve of you. I wish we could simply run away, but that’s a foolish dream. 
Educated woman expects man to talk about her wandering womb and how education will make her insane and barren, instead finds man actually wants to hold an intellectual conversation with her and they strike up and unexpected friendship and then love. 
Character a denying themselves of character b because they don’t feel good enough or because they feel it would be selfish maybe because they’re in a war or because they can’t provide what they feel character b deserves. Character b is not here for this bullshit. 
We get trapped in a small cabin in a snowstorm together wild west au. 
We get trapped in any small space in any time period au
I would say we should stop having children but I love each and every one of them and I love you too. Large family AU.
We’ve just lost our child in infancy, grief, hurt/comfort. 
You’re in labour and i’m terrified for you. I am not allowed in the birthing chamber and the midwife would murder me if I tried. 
Alternatively, I refuse to not be present for the birth of our child and don’t care what anyone says. I'm here to support you and will be physically in the room. 
You’re competing for my affections but you never had to compete because you always had them. 
You do not have to duel everyone for me over the smallest slight, look now you’ve gone and hurt yourself and I suppose I’ll have to give you my favourite handkerchief to deal with it.
I am pro royalist and you are pro-republic. I should hate you, you should hate me, but god if you aren’t all consuming. 
You’re one of my suitors and the gifts you bring me aren’t jewels or flowers, but books, microscopes, telescopes, knowledge. I like the way you think and seem to seem me.
I am nearly trampled by someone’s horse in the street, but you step in just in time to get me out of the way even though it puts you in danger yourself
Despite the cost of sugary treats you always turn up to my parlour with some sort of sweet and I know they’re not the cheapest. 
Anything involving a copper bathtub is a vibe. 
I always look for your seal on my letters. Yours is the first letter I read and the one I treasure most. 
I have kept every note, every little, every little thing you’ve ever written or drawn for me.
If images inspire you you might find my other blog @theillustratedmagazine helpful. It has 20th and 19th century illustrations. 
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chiimmchiimm · 5 years ago
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❝ 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓷 !¡ 𝒿𝓀 ❞
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The largest herd on the entire East Coast would have a new leader. Qualities were of utmost importance to them, a good alpha had to possess a sense of justice and a beta woman to augment his legacy. Jungkook's parents had accepted their marriage since before he was born. The second strongest family, the Lightwoods, had a perfect beta daughter for their son. However, one night after an unexpected event, Jungkook decided to marry his youngest daughter. 
𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔:  Jungkookwolf au x (female:Lucy)  𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut, wolf au, fluff, angst, one shot.  𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 16 k    𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18   𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: abuse, violence, , sadness, psychological abuse, dirty lenjuage, naked, muscles, mating, cumshot, bite, sex. 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: This is my first one shot of this theme I hope you enjoy it. If there is a lot of demand, maybe make another one with the member you choose most. 
Social pressure could be included within the determining factors for anyone to lose their reason, their own identity. Jungkook always considered himself a strong person, both physically and mentally. His education had been one of the best in town, the most neat and disciplined so that I could deal with any problem that might arise. Being the firstborn of an Alpha family was not easy, he lived constantly under the rules, absurd duties and constant dialogues about loyalty.
In Dyonisia, everyone envied him, and for that reason, he always walked alone. He did not like people, he did not like to make friends for convenience, to feel like a sample object to flatter their families. He preferred to sink under his father's extensive library, though he never said no to a walk on the Hun River.
That morning, his father had practically forced him to get out of those four walls, breathe air, take a bit of color, inviting him to interact with the other betas or omegas in town. He had only built a small friendship with a beta, Jimin, the son of his father's assistant, a very brief relationship just by spending good morning, but Jungkook found it pleasant. Perhaps it was her sympathy and the kind smile that she gave her mother every time she brought her hot chocolate. He used to watch those scenes from a porch seat with a book on his lap and another cup to go with. He never got too close, fearing the same rejection as the same betas of his kind. They were supposed to respect him (or at least that's what they did in public) but they never missed an opportunity to denigrate his taste for loneliness, to process low words towards his low weight and unattractiveness. This was her childhood, subjected to constant ridicule that seemed endless.
So when Jungkook culminated in the hormonal process of puberty, his alpha genetics came out in the way his muscles protruded above all those scrawny betas. At twenty-two, he possessed all the qualities necessary to be the new Alpha Chief.
I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with rich natural oxygen. He had always loved the wild smell of pine leaves, the crisp sound of boots as he stepped on dry leaves. Feeling comfortable, he gave himself the pleasure of stretching his shoulders to remove all the accumulated tension, placing a hand on his shoulder to massage the neck area.
He dragged his boots down a small slope of land to approach the shore and touch the crystal clear water, he needed to get drunk from that cold and wet feeling left by the river.
It stopped mid-slope when I hear a couple of voices below.
"What's wrong?" It echoed, a thick, coarse voice with an ironic air. A man of medium height with strong arms and a broad back covered by a white tank top. He seemed to be talking to someone but his physiognomy was so robust that it completely covered him. His shoulders fell serene but the tension was palpable in the muscular contraction of his back. —Come on, darling, you're my girlfriend, you love me, I love you, what do others matter?
“I love you, I'm just not ready to go to those kinds of contacts, sorry.”
"But why not?"
Jungkook analyzed his tired tone, shrewdly deducing that it was not the first time that he had insisted. Then, the boy supported the weight of his body with one leg, discovering with this small act, the body of a girl with whom he spoke so uncomfortable. Slowly her eyes widened with involuntary emotion. She felt chills, the movement of her brown hair against the wind seemed unreal, so soft and fluffy that it caused inhuman impulses to touch it. Big, expressive eyes that screamed what he thought: discomfort and some fear. Letting herself be tamed by sudden curiosity, she began to explore her sweet, perfect features, brown skin, small nose, and prominent natural red lips. It seemed like a beam of light in so much darkness, it really was beautiful. A scent of honey rose from her developed nose, an aroma so exquisite that she had to close her eyes briefly to calm the excited red of her irises. "My love, nobody will know, only you and me.I am giving you an option so that you do not have to pass your fever with those harmful drugs.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows as surprise hit his facial control. Outraged by his low propositions, he frowned. I calculate that he must have been the same age, therefore, it seemed unheard of to him, considering that he did not seem stupid, that he did not know the serious consequences of such acts. He growled, his toes curling inside his shoes. He showered her with loving flattery whenever he could, yet there was something about his insistence that had him truly concerned. He talked to her about mating as if it was just about sex. That act links two people for life, though, only if the male wants. There was something about the way his fists clenched that prompted his instincts to think he was not to be trusted. He could smell the urge from there, a smell so rotten that his mouth suddenly wrinkled. Jungkook tilted his head to the side to examine his distressed expression, hurt by his little collaboration.
"I have said no."
A smile escaped Jungkook's lips without realizing it.
"But Lucy ..."
Her words stayed in the air when she noticed that the girl caught Jungkook's presence. I swallow hard, her expressive eyes staring at him in panic. The boy turned with his hands on his hips, then raised his eyebrows contemptuously at Jungkook. Quite nervous, Jungkook slid down the slope.
"Didn't they teach you not to listen to private conversations, asshole?"
"Tony, let him."
The boy looked at Lucy abruptly.
"What did I leave him? He could tell your parents about us. This jerk might not have good intentions ..."
"Like the ones you have with her?" He growled, his inner wolf shaking its tail eager to get out. For tearing everything in his canines with his canines. He was sure that the vein in his neck had made its appearance, he felt the blood rise suddenly and collect on his head. Lucy stared at him too shocked, then ducked her head in embarrassment, closing her brown eyes. Jungkook didn't want to make her feel bad, damn it, he should have controlled her tone. Her beautiful hair covered her face with such tender grace. How could someone as sweet as her date someone so hypocritical?
"What have you said?"
"What you listen."
"Give up for dead ..."
Lucy put her hands on his chest to stop him.
"Not here," she pleaded, her eyes set on the ground.
The boy shook his body violently and then roared.
The discussion did not get worse because a group of young betas appeared to camp at the foot of the river. Children who laughed tirelessly until they saw the two wolves pulling their teeth out and roaring intensely at each other. Jungkook was forced to calm down and reticulate for the sake of that foolish beta, he could not, rather, he should not. If his father found out that on his first outing, after so long, he had killed off a dead beta, he would be in real trouble. Everyone knew the difference between beta and alpha strength, it wouldn't have cost Jungkook to destroy him, but it wasn't the right thing to do. He returned to his home and sank into the safety of his room. He slept, ate and breathed thinking of those expressive clear eyes.
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Located at the foot of a picturesque cabin where the vines climbed the walls emitting a smell of wet leaves from the recent storm. Today was the great day, that one, in which his role as future leader would consolidate, he would take the privilege of meeting his future wife and in the worst case, the mother of his cubs. His mother was almost as nervous as he was as he tried to calm himself down with exaggerated vents. He was convincing himself that it was the best choice. Her father rang the bell with searing assurance.
"Thanks for coming, Joe," said a robust man thanking him for his visit, Jungkook assumed he was responsible for the family. His mother entered first, giving him a nod in greeting, she did not like the contact very much. At a quick glance I notice Jungkook's presence. "Come on in." Is waiting for you.
His future wife.
Your future Alpha.
He nodded resignedly.
She felt a real desire to back down, to return home with some excuse to excuse her sudden flight. However, I end up entering that cozy house. The commitment was something that had always been in force throughout his life, his father kept reminding him how important it was to find the right partner, how essential it was to get someone with good genetics for the litter. But he was never in favor of arranged marriages, he was never in a hurry to establish love relationships. He always thought that fate would be in charge of introducing him to what would be his alpha, but that was just an absurd wish. Since he turned fifteen and hit the first stretch, his father had been in charge of reminding him, every day until today, that his destiny had been decided.
Enveloped by the pleasant heat of the living room. The house was not very big but enough for them. Sometimes those were the best, since a small house with interactions was better than a huge one where ghosts flooded around the corners.
She left her coat on the polished coat rack in the hall, then headed into the living room. He quickly approached the fireplace to take refuge in the crackling wood as it was burned by the fire.
"Carina, daughter, come down. Your fiance has arrived!"
Jungkook stood by the fireplace while he waited. The sound of heels began to echo down the steps. He raised his head as a new scent filled the room, his nose was suffocated by too intense a perfume. It was not annoying, without going any further, but too excessive. Her nose wrinkled in response. His sense of smell was so muffled that he soon began to crave oxygen.
"I was getting ready, mother," she said, in a charming voice.
Jungkook stifled a brief sigh as his eyes closed. Then he turned around and greeted her with a kiss on the hand. Without much more to say, his skin was overly lubricated and flavored with some artificial citrus from some body cream. I take his small bow as a greeting to tour the girl's body. The dress reached to the ankles where high-heeled shoes stood out with pride. The vermilion color with touches of bows matched a small belt. The dress was wide at the bottom, being narrower at the waist area, accentuating it. Then, I look at the artificial details of her makeup, her red lips highlighted by a lipstick, recently, by how fresh they looked. He had to control the movement of his eyebrows to avoid frowning, the girl was beautiful in itself, she did not need as much makeup. He liked natural appearances more like his mother or that girl on the river.
"Nice to meet you..."
"Carina," she added, quickly with a desperation that covered with a sporadic laugh.
Jungkook replied with a small grimace of politeness. Actually, I was tense.
"Where's your sister, darling?" Asked his mother under his breath. The girl shrugged contemptuously as if she wouldn't mind. Jungkook looked away awkwardly, they were talking in front of him like he wasn't.
"Sorry for being late ..."
Lucy ended her hasty career the moment her large eyes saw the figure of Jungkook occupying half of the room. Being totally paralyzed by the impression. Jungkook, who had recognized that voice, turned in his direction, also opening his eyes in surprise. Lucy closed her mouth as fast as she could, nerves beginning to dominate her movements. Both of them looking at each other in total surprise until their sister stood between them.
“Shall we go to the table?” She suggested, a little annoyed at his extreme attention to his sister.
Jungkook reacted, accepting a little disoriented that he would place an arm inside his forearm.
The couple walked to the table, however, there was a moment when Carina looked back to cast a teasing glance at her sister. Lucy rolled her eyes at his childish behavior.
"I was a little nervous because I didn't know how you were going to react. Really, this is crazy. Arranged marriage ..."
Carina talked and talked but he had lost himself in his thoughts shortly after the start of this conventional conversation. Sitting in front of his parents, with her at his side talking to him about anything he didn't even bother to hear. He hadn't yet touched the suckling pig meat that Mrs. Trivia had so skillfully cooked. His mother was talking to his mother, his father was talking to the other about some topic related to hunting, leaving poor Lucy behind, who was playing with the chicken leg with her fork at the other end of the table. He pursed his lips in a pout as he spun the food lost in his world. She felt boredom and a little angry at her mother for forcing her to attend these kinds of meetings. They didn't even get along with their sister, they were totally opposite. Carina was more flirtatious and concerned about much more "feminine" matters (at least that's what she called housework), Lucy was much more adventurous, carefree, she was a ray of sun molten in hope that exuded happiness for her radiant smile. She raised her eyes from the plate when she felt watched. Jungkook averted his gaze as soon as he rested hers on him.
Feeling even more out of place when she unconsciously watched her sister's hand cling to her strong bicep.
His mother was totally focused on a lively conversation with Jungkook's mother, so much so that when the brunette got up and sneaked out the back door, no one noticed her absence.
Holding between his small fingers his large planted chicken leg.
"Dog, I'm bringing you ..."
An excited bark came out from behind a trash can when the stray dog ​​she cared for behind her mother's back, ran at her in desperate gallops. With his tongue hanging out and his eyes drowning in hunger. Lucy, laughing, crouched down and set the plate down for the poor animal to feast on. The dog did not think twice and eagerly put the ozico in. A mixture of saliva and leftovers of meat began to fall on top of his shoes, he did not care too much, he increased the level of his laughter while he filled his head with caresses.
"Why did you run away?"
Frightened by such a compromising scene, Lucy spun back. When she met Jungkook's worried gaze she placed a hand on her chest and sighed in relief.
"You can't run away from a place you never were," he declares, his so ambiguous little confession decreasing in pitch as he turns back to the animal. He repeatedly pats his head as he watches his little fight with the larger area. Jungkook bows his head. He analyzes her curiously, a feeling similar to what she feels for him.
"Sorry," he whispers. Jungkook stops looking at the animal, directs his frown at her while undoing the smile that he doesn't know when he's formed. "This morning. Tony's."
-Why do you apologize? It wasn't your fault. ”Confused, he intensifies the wrinkle on his forehead.
"For not respecting you, Alpha. If I had known that ..."
"Stop justifying an apology," he replies, through an excessively abruptness. Lucy ducks her head in shame hidden under her long hair. Jungkook begins to feel remorse when he smells his sadness with his experienced sense of smell. So weak and fragile. He does not know how to react, it is the first time that he is in front of a woman and the dumbness reigns, the words have simply been stuck at the beginning of his throat.
Lucy raises her head.
"Do not."
Its softness shakes you.
"It's a stray dog ​​that I take care of behind my mother ... Please don't tell him!"
"Is very..."
"Pathetic, I know."
"No." he clarifies. Lucy expands her eyes to him. "It is an honorable gesture."
Lucy's cheeks are bathed in rich lipstick when their gazes collide for a brief moment.
"Thank you very much sir."
Jungkook wrinkles his nose.
"What's that, sir? But how old are you?"
"I'm twenty-one, sir."
"For God's sake, don't call me sir reminds me of my father." Far from looking like an order, his pleasant laugh relaxes the situation.
Lucy gets caught up in the alluring sound of his voice, taking a few seconds to contemplate the hectic movement of her lips as she laughs. Jungkook intensifies his smile when he realizes it. She deflects hers drowning in a shame marked by the red of her ears.
"Call me by name, Jungkook."
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"I'm so excited about decorating the banquet. I love roses, do you like roses as much as I do? I like the red of their petals it's so intense ... Oh, oh, over there!" Screaming excited when visualize from afar a wildflower stand. Catch Jungkook's doll to drag him towards the small traveling shop. There was so much fuss in the main square that you didn't notice the reverberating sound the song made of your tired sigh produced. He keeps thinking about how uncomfortable he is, he should help his father with the affairs of the town and not there, in a square choosing what would be the perfect flower for the center of his wedding table.
Two weeks had passed since that dinner, nothing had changed in his cold demeanor. Try as she might, she knew Carina was not his type. His heart did not stir when he touched it, nor did its aroma captivate him, it seemed the same as the rest of the omegas or betas in the surroundings.
"Jungkook."
Jungkook was aware of his claim hidden in a small grimace.
"Which ones do you like best?"
Carina reached out toward the flower trays.
"Do I really have to be here?" He asked, frowning roughly. Carina clenched her teeth, highlighting her jaw. Jungkook rolled his eyes at the sight of his little tantrum. Being a little nicer, I try to fix it in a quiet whisper. "I mean, I trust your taste."
Carina felt flattered, relaxing into a huge smile.
"I have to help my father. See you later."
He got out of there before Carina wanted to give him a suffocating hug. He adored them, he really missed the comforting warmth he felt when someone close hugged him, but he couldn't bear the excessive way his hands tightened around her neck.
A most peculiar brown mane drew his attention to the well-known girl who was reading in a street vendor.
He approached by an unconscious impulse that he offered to his lips with an excited smile.
“What are you doing?” He leaned down to whisper directly into the shell of her ear in greeting.
Lucy closed the book in fright. Suffering a chill from the wet friction of his lips on the skin.
When he bent his neck, he smiled.
"Are you following me, Jungkook?"
"Maybe," he joked, as he widened a mischievous smile. Lucy had to go back to the book so that she wouldn't witness the emotion of hers. Jungkook leaned over the stall ledges to steal his attention. "I came with Carina to buy some things for the wedding."
A prick-like pain seemed to hit his heart.
"It must have been exciting for you to have practically run out of the flower shop."
“Were you watching me?” She asked mockingly, exaggerating a playful smile.
"Maybe."
Jungkook was the faithful image of happiness. He couldn't stop smiling, unlike when he was with his sister, with Lucy he could bring out his personality, knowing that he would never judge him.
"Violent pleasures end in violence and have their own death triumph, in the same way that fire and gunpowder are consumed in a voracious kiss." I recite almost from memory when I look down at his book. Lucy turned her neck to him with too much surprise in her eyes. Jungkook replied with a proud grin. "Romeo and Juliet." I didn't think you were a lover of literature.
"It's the best way to get out of here getting lost in the exciting lyrics of Shakespeare," he replied, forming a small smile.
"Of all the works you have, why that one?" It is a tragedy with a very sad ending.
"An inspiring tragedy," he contradicted, frowning as he playfully punched him with the book in the stomach. "Besides representing a beautiful love story."
"Do you think such love exists?"
Jungkook raised a curious eyebrow.
"Yes, but not for me," I whisper, a cold and bleak air crowding into his tone like it's a disease. Jungkook slowly broke his beaming smile until he ended in a straight line. "My destiny is written and as traditions agree, I will end up marrying a stranger."
Lucy leaves the book inside a wooden box, the movement of her hand is so pessimistic that Jungkook lets out a sigh.
Frowning, she retrieves it. He put two fingers up to catch the grocer's attention, he came as fast as his old legs allowed. Jungkook took out a bill and placed it on top of the books.
"Keep the change."
Lucy opened her eyes in surprise.
"What are you doing?"
Jungkook offered her the book but she did not accept it. She was still holding a tense, reluctant posture toward him.
"Can't I give you a gift?"
"It is not appropriate. You are a committed man."
"With your sister."
Lucy's heart clenched.
"Still, it's not appropriate."
"Keep him."
As if he were a puppet at his whim, he managed to get the book into his arms.
"But..."
"Accept it as a sign of our friendship," he asked, Jungkook manifested his last masterpiece when he gave her a smile so charming that even Lucy was duped. "Friends make gifts, right?"
"Yes, I guess so."
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He hated the pressure of the elegant shirts, he had always liked the comfort that loose and wide clothing provided much more. His mother had forced him to dress cordably on the occasion, when she had seen him in those jeans and black sweatshirt, he cursed the four winds.
As he walked down the streets of the town, the lanterns guided him with a charming light. The air that night was cool and comforting, and yet he would be locked in a house dining with his future wife. Jungkook sighed tired, really, he had been visiting that house too many times a week, he saw Carina almost every day. The only amusement that made this bustle more enjoyable was the pleasant company of Lucy. That little beta that made him smile every time they spoke. An impatient sigh came from his lips without realizing it.
Would it also be today?
"Ahead."
Mrs. Trivi opened the door for him with a smile.
Jungkook was looking resignedly at the table set in the living room when a delicious smell led him to the kitchen.
"Mmm ... that smells good."
He smiled like a little boy when he saw a chocolate cake in the middle of the table.
"Get your filthy hands away from my chocolate cake!" Cried an uncompromising voice that he had instantly recognized.
"Just a bit." Fawning smiled as he stretched out one of his hands but Lucy slapped him.
"Not!"
Immediately they both laughed as Lucy tenderly took her hand to analyze the red mark. There was a time when the laughter stopped and his eyes couldn't be more attracted. They fell into comfortable silence as they analyzed his detailed pupils. Jungkook cocked a small smile as his heart began to crash against his chest. Lucy looked away in intimidation, her dark eyes too deep. I swear for a moment to hear the heart fluttering in Lucy's chest, her scent so close it was starting to cause terrible side effects. He felt a shiver as his fingers left her wrist in need of the desire for her soft touch. Lucy swallowed to calm the dryness in her throat, her lips taking control of her mouth to smile unconsciously. He knew he kept staring at her and he inexplicably liked that. 
Jungkook found himself half a step away when the door slammed shut.
"Jungkook wasn't expecting you so soon. I've missed you ..."
Lucy was brutally pushed aside when Carina hugged Jungkook.
"Are you going to stay for dinner?" A totally ironic question to his sister.
Lucy smiles falsely.
"If you talk to me like that, yes."
"Stupid ..."
"Actually, I'm only here to pick up some of your father's papers." Jungkook's clever intervention gives him the perfect excuse to refrain from that absurd evening. Carina ironically raises her eyebrows while transforming a forced smile.
"Oh! In that case come, I'll take you to his office."
Lucy mocks her sister's back, imitating her gait, and Jungkook laughs softly when he turns to say goodbye.
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The sun was shining bright that morning but the desire to get lost in the pages of a book had really won the battle. Her father's office was an intimate and private place where he used to spend most of the day. Besides, she preferred to shut herself up in that rustic and solitary room, than to have to endure the excited screams of her sister for the few days that remained for her wedding.
He was turning the pages of the book too lazily. He didn't know what was going on inside her but for a while he had been in rather poor humor. He no longer wanted to smile, he rarely laughed at his father's jokes when there had been from the first syllable before. He made cheap excuses, whether it was because the summer was ending or because his parents no longer paid as much attention to him. Deep down, he knew what the real reason for his emotional downturn was. Jungkook was going to marry his sister's monster.
The problem was not commitment (or at least that's what he wanted to think) Jungkook was a very attractive young man, it was more than clear that he would not stay single all his life, but the fact that he went with his sister definitely put him in a very bad mood . She was capricious and did not agree with her friend's kind attitude. So sweet and chivalrous, he couldn't deny how good he felt when sporadic moments passed. Her chest heaved uneasily and her lips couldn't stop smiling.
He shook his head to scare away the strange thoughts and concentrated his attention on finishing Cervantes' great work. When finishing with the last page, he got up from the chair and walked to the shelf, with the bad luck that when he wanted to return it to its place of origin, the height played a trick on him.
“Do you need help?” A velvety voice vibrated behind her. Jungkook leaned his shoulder against the mark of the door as he contemplated the amusing scene of seeing her on tiptoe and with her tongue sticking out.
"What?"
Lucy landed on the ground momentarily stunned by his appearance. Swallow, overwhelmed by its natural beauty. He had never felt the need to focus on the bodies of the other betas, and yet his eyes wandered alone on an involuntary tour of her majestic legs in tandem with his strong arms clenched as they crossed. Coming out of her hypnosis, she blinked nervously as she turned back to the bookshelf and managed to cover her blush. What happened to him? It looked like a beta controlled by her impulses.
"Oh! No, I can alone," rejecting her help with a self-sufficient air. He stood on tiptoe again, stretching his arm as far as he could to strain the book into the empty space. She lowered to the ground tired and snorted closing her eyes. "Okay. Can you ..."
A hand runs over her shoulder, catching the book and setting it in place. His hard pecs collide unintentionally against his back as his body leans forward to reach the high shelf. Feel an intense stomach cramp when you shrink at the compact sensation. She seems so moved by the pleasant sensation of his body heat that her neck turns to increase the vision of her strong arm backing up.
"Thanks ..." he whispers.
"I had brought you a book."
Jungkook's voice sounds more stable than it actually was, his mind had played a bad thought on him. He didn't want to get away from her. She had felt such a pleasant sensation when she had accidentally brushed against his body. Forcing himself to stay away from its delicious smell he takes two steps back to walk away.
"You didn't have to with the book the other day ...”
Lucy turns around when she is sure that the redness on her cheeks has completely left her skin but then, Jungkook takes out a book from his cloth bag.
"Oh, my mother, my mother!" I do not believe you. I've been looking for this book every time Mel put the job but always told me she didn't have it.
He snatches the book from her with too exciting speed when he recognizes the book.
“Since when do you like witchcraft, Jungkook?” He hums mockingly as he glides his fingers across the uneven surface of the cover, in a hypnotized smile.
"If you don't want it ..."
“Yes, yes!” She hugs the book, afraid she will take it away.
Jungkook laughs softly.
Lucy takes the book off to look at it, jumps with excitement as she squeals like a little girl. She doesn't know when she has dared to run to his body to hug him, but when she is aware of what she has done and tries to separate herself, Jungkook is wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Suddenly, Lucy hides a smile sinking into her chest. Its honey scent is so comfortable, it inspires enjoying its natural perfume, it takes a step closer to make a better hole in its arms. Jungkook gasps, tilts his head to bury his nose in her neck and bask in her softness, his fingers lightly touching the skin behind her ear. Her small caress makes Lucy stir at the sensation. With an innate craving he clenches his wool sweater in a fist, Jungkook gently caresses the strip of fur again. Smile when you feel the trembling of your body stuck.
"Shall I interrupt?"
Lucy separates agitated when she hears her sister's irritated voice.
"Thank you, really, thank you."
His stuttering is covered by the sound of his hurried footsteps. He runs away from there with his face burning, hoping that Jungkook hasn't seen the shame on his face, but both he and Carina have witnessed his little blush. Jungkook smiles unconsciously, caring little that his behavior was being observed by the other woman.
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"Carina, you are beautiful."
Flaunting her majestic dress she waves her hand proudly. His other hand is in a friendly greeting with Jungkook's mother.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Jeon."
"Nothing formal, after all, we will be family soon." Her confidence makes Carina smile with greatness. Completely ignoring his parents and his bored sister. — I can't believe my son is getting married in a week.
Lucy purses her lips, tries to act normally but cannot.
Carina widens her smile when she notices her sidelong disgust.
"Neither do I ... I'm so nervous."
Jungkook's mother turns to a circle of men who speak animatedly.
"Jungkook, son, your fiancee just arrived!"
Jungkook slammed his glass down, placed it on top of the waiter's tray, then loosened the knot in his tie. Really, he had infiltrated the older wolves to hide, had had to put up with old stories of when the pack was a third of what it was now, but it was worth it to get away even for a few minutes.
An old man she had been talking to slaps him on the shoulder for support. He sighs and turns to his mother. He tries to process a charming smile on his girlfriend but is only capable of grimacing.
"These..."
He shuts up.
He sees Lucy a few meters behind, clad in a short but really delicate dress. Jungkook couldn't contain the bubbles of emotion growing inside her, she really was beautiful. The white color suited him wonderfully highlighting his pretty eyes that did not hesitate to observe him.
"Precious..."
"Thanks," Carina responds, taking a quick look at her mother.
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"What a boring party." Is this what they call music? ”Her friend scoffed as she played with the liquid in her glass. Lucy shrugged, then finished her third drink. When he threatens to leave her on the small table behind him, Ginger grabs her shoulders to stop her. "Don't turn around."
"What happens?"
Lucy frowns in concern.
"Would you believe me if I told you that your sister's fiancé did not take his eyes off you?"
"Of course not." He chokes on the alcohol when he swallows. You cough when you notice how the drink is going the wrong way. — You should stop drinking because alcohol makes you see things that are not.
"Yeah right."
Red-brushed nails are embedded around his arm.
“May I have a second, I want to talk to my sister?” She demands, lashing out in an unkind tug until she pulls her out of prying eyes.
"Ouch! What are you doing?" Lucy moans in a confused howl from the strangely aggressive pressure that travels through her fingers.
"You've been taunting Jungkook all night."
"You're sick in the head," she clarifies, denying herself absorbed in an incredulous expression, sucking her lips inward to contain herself. She decides to ignore him and walk back to the living room, however, her sister's hand returns her to her place.
"I warn you, stop bothering my fiancé."
"Your ego has gone to your head and your understanding is clouded." Jungkook is my friend, nothing more.
"You're right," he spits bitterly. She smiles, she wears an evil grimace that only anticipates what will come next. —Really, I don't know why I bother if it's clear that she would never notice someone like you.
"Like me?"
"Yes." He tightens his smile, emphasizing a wicked look. "In an immature and horrendous brat who doesn't have two fingers on her forehead, you're not even pretty."
Sigh, release his breath directly to her face to unbalance her. Lucy frowns in pain at her sister's hurtful words. He had always been cruel, he had never lacked time to mess with his appearance, but this time it was different, he sensed it in the way he acted. He had pulled out his claws to defend his position as if he felt Lucy was a threat when he had just told her otherwise.
"You're worth nothing."
He moved closer to her ear so that his whisper would take on a dramatic tone. She emphasized the last word to make it stand out from the rest. Lucy swallowed nervously, a swirl of anguish crouching inside her stomach from the lack of delicacy. She knew that she shouldn't listen to her, she was just a hurt woman for some reason that she couldn't explain. But it was the derogatory tone and the way his eyes killed her in anger. She didn't know that it hurt more, if her sister's slurs or the fact that deep down she knew she was right. I never considered myself a good specimen, haughty and pushy. No beta approached her if it weren't for sweet reasons. She always walked alone waiting for someone to surprise her, but that never happened, it only existed in her head.
Until now.
"Lucy." An oddly low voice sounded behind him. Startling her by sudden interruption of her thoughts. She turns around and twitches a weary sigh.
"Tony, I'm not in the mood. Go, please."
"We need to talk."
Lucy inevitably stared out the window, seeing her sister hanging on Jungkook's arm. She was smiling as she bragged about something she couldn't hear from a distance. As if struck by a current, Jungkook squinted into the darkness of the porch, but there was no one there anymore. Her desire to get out of there was greatly increased by accepting that Tony will guide her down the dark steps at the back of the house.
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“Haven't we gotten too far away?” He asks, not stopping to observe everything that had a little moonlight reflected on its surface. It had been a while since they had started on this walk, Tony had been silent and certainly, Lucy was beginning to wonder if accepting his offer had really been a good idea.
"It's so they won't listen to us."
"I think that's enough, I don't even know where we are."
She stopped abruptly causing Tony to turn and look at her strangely.
"Lucy, forgive me."
—Tony, we've already talked about this, you aspire to things that I don't. We don't have the same goals, the same dreams. We were always different, now I realize how wrong I was to accept that this happened.
"But what are you saying?" You love Me.
"No, Tony. I liked you but I never loved you. "I confess, the words had been previously selected in his head so as not to reject him too abruptly, but the fatigue was cleverly perceived between his tired grimace and lowered shoulders." Sorry, "I sigh. Taking steps carefully so as not to trip over the dark stones.
His hand tied to her arm holding her back.
"We need to talk," I pronounce slowly with a bright threat in his eyes.
"We've said enough," he said, shivering from the nerves that covered his vision. He shook his arm but he just cocked his fingers more. "Tony, let go of me I have to go back."
"You love me," he repeated in a desperate air. Lucy widened her eyes in fright as she took painfully slow steps toward him. "I'm going to show you how much I love you."
He yanked her onto the nearest log just to adjust to her body as soon as he had the chance. Her nose inspired his perfumed scent eagerly as she trembled paralyzed. His nails embedded in the rough wood with a disturbed look. He began to deliver small kisses to the bottom of her jaw, sticking out his sticky tongue to lick a strip of her syrupy neck. Lucy shrugged her head in response, feeling the real fear when his hands clenched her and she felt his hard erection on her thigh.
"My precious beta ..." her breath falling into the shell of her ear before she licked it with emphasis. Lucy patted her chest desperately, attacking with her hands in an absurd attempt to pull him away.
“Stop!” I yell, sick and scared. Holding back an anguished sob at the top of her throat. All she did was get Tony to growl and hold her tighter in his lumberjack arms.
"Don't scream, no one is going to listen to you, we're in the middle of nowhere. Don't make this more difficult, Lucy."
He hit his body again this time making it at least a few inches apart. He sank his body into the crisp wood of the tree groaning in pain as he felt loose strands dig into his back.
"Let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone," I plead, opening my teary eyes so that he will change his mind, that being his breaking point.
"Damn it, I just want to convey to you how much I love you so hard it is to understand!" If you don't want to understand it the good way then the bad way it will be… ”A hand went up to wrap the column of his neck and thus keep his face free for him. He smiled, pulling his teeth out in a sharp smile. Lucy kicked when she buried her mouth in his neck, she knew what she would do when she felt the fangs in her neck.
"No ..." she sobbed.
A furious roar echoed through every space in the forest. So furious and scandalous that Tony caught a glance before falling to the ground pushed by strong arms. Lucy slid down the tree, killing her bent legs. Her hand covered her neck still feeling the edge of her fangs.
Another furious roar.
Lucy tore her gaze from the dried leaves to find a scene too terrifying. Jungkook hitting with all his fury the face buried in the earth of Tony. Flipping him violently with each punch. Fixing a bloodshot gaze, pulling out the fangs at each lunge. He tried to get up but his knee failed, he had to lean on the trunk not to collapse.
"Jungkook," I whisper weak. Not abandoning that fear that I still felt. Jungkook looked up from Tony's badly injured body to look at her with concern. His eyes darting to the hand covering his neck. He got up as fast as he could and approached her too nervously.
"Are you okay? Has that motherfucker done anything to you?" He growled, the vein in his neck sticking out at every word. His breathing hitched at his chest but he didn't seem to mind. With too much tenderness he uncovered his neck to see two red marks but without going deep. He sighed, feeling relieved and selfishly good. Lucy welled up tears at his pitiful gaze. She buried her head in his chest to calm her sobs. Jungkook stroked her head slowly. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you alone."
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"Where could it be?" Has he come home? ”Her father asked in an anguished tone as he wandered around the empty room.
"Lucy would never leave without telling us." Her worried mother assured her to try to calm her husband's uncomfortable hustle a little.
Carina rolls her eyes.
"Please, you're putting on too much of a drama, he's always sneaked out of ..."
Jungkook's mother's outrageous heels stormed in.
Behind her husband walks with a long face.
“Have you seen Jungkook?” Her mother added in a panic attack. It was not common for her son to leave the party in the middle of a conversation. She had been worried since she saw him leave in a hurry.
The glass opening was what twitched the nerves of everyone present. Immediately everyone turned in alarm to find a Jungkook with his shirt stained with mud. His mother covered her amazed mouth when the poor and trembling Lucy appeared behind him with her tousled dress and red neck. But undoubtedly, what caught the most attention was the boy that Jungkook so skillfully dragged by his mother's velvet carpet.
"Lucy! OMG, what happened?"
Her mother ran to wrap her daughter in her arms, who soon began to cry when she felt the heat of the home again.
"This jerk has tried to take her into the woods," Jungkook roared into the air. Wrinkling her nose when the memory of him trying to mark her came magically to knock her good pose down. He released his shirt causing it to drop straight to the floor, the drool hanging and his mouth bloody as he lay dying on the fluffy carpet.
"He?"
Her mother grabbed her shoulders to inspect the mark on her neck.
"No." I assure, licking my lips so I can speak. "Jungkook was on time, Mom."
The woman sighed in relief.
"Thank heaven."
"That happens to you for being anybody," her sister accused in a too despicable tone. Her father turned shocked to his daughter.
"Carina, please, that comment is too much!"
"Tomorrow everyone will know what happened tonight." He pointed coldly at his sister as if it wouldn't affect him. His mother immediately looked at Jungkook's mother, who looked down at the dying individual in her living room.
"I'll try not to talk about it much, but you know what the rumors are like."
"No one will want to marry her," Carina commented in a low whisper that did nothing more than hide her inner joy.
"I will do it."
Everyone watched Jungkook's jaw drop. Everyone except Lucy who had frozen in her mother's arms, sticking her head out to look at him too shocked.
"It is a solution," he commented to his father in an attempt to convince him. Mr. Jeon seemed to think about it as he placed a finger on his chin and turned to seek his wife's approval.
"But are you listening to each other?" What kind of mental dementia makes you think it's a good idea? Do not!
“Carina!” Her mother said in a dominant cry. The girl opened her mouth as she exhaled fire from anger. Heading towards Jungkook so that he could convey his agony.
"It's her problem she has gotten into." I understand that you want to help her but there are many ways.
"It is my decision, father."
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Sitting with her hands on her knees as she watched her mother's reflection travel across the room.Combed with a tousled braid that ran down the right side of her shoulder. Looking back into that mirror, she thought that perhaps this would be the last time she could feel the warm relaxation of her space. She tried not to cry so as not to ruin the makeup so exquisite that her mother had taken the time to do it.
He couldn't find the exact words to describe how he felt. Nerves had indeed taken the form of lingering chills. He always assured his crazy and dreamy person that the day they would take his hand would be the happiest of his life, and yet he kept thinking that this situation had been forced.
"Here it is, it was from your great-grandmother, then it happened to your grandmother and then to me. Now it's your turn to take it."
"Why are you crying, Mom?" I whisper in a small smile when she saw slight drops caress her cheeks.
"It's not every day my girl gets married," I croon melancholy as I hooked a loose lock with the blue clasp. I sigh, stroking her daughter's bare shoulders. "We should have had this talk later but the situation has been a bit rushed."
“About what?” She scowled her outlined eyebrows.
"About the rules in marriage, my love."
"Mom..."
"You know what will happen tonight, Jungkook will take you and be his wife. You must have puppies, all you can and ..."
"Mom, I don't want to talk about this. Can you please go away?"
"I know it's difficult, at first it takes a little getting used to but I'm sure my girl will do very well. Jungkook is a great man who has done us a great favor, keep that in mind."
I kiss her forehead lovingly before leaving her thoughtful in the mirror.
Everything happened so fast, in less than a blink he found himself closing his eyes to the roar of applause from the guests. Stop in the middle of an altar full of precious flowers. Being the center of attention and the reason for the excited whistles.
"You may kiss the bride."
Lucy gulped when the priest's words broke through all the screaming. His eyes ceased to outline the flowers in a nervous air. The seat next to him shifted back, implying that Jungkook had risen. Lucy took the fabric of her skirt and tightened it anxiously before getting up. Raising her chin little by little in a situation that seemed more eternal than the cycle of the earth. Connecting their eyes for the first time since they had made the pact in that stone seat. Jungkook sighed when he noticed how his bright pupils faded as the agony continued to rage. Guilt gnaws at him like a disease that destroys everything in his path.
He moved just a little closer to receive her rejection in a fearful gasp. So, banishing the desire he had to caress that fleshy mouth with his lips, he decided to bring a kiss to his forehead and walk away as soon as possible. Lucy, who had closed her eyes not to witness out of embarrassment, opened them in surprise to find a Jungkook further away than she ever walked to the garden with the guests.
He had hardly had a bite of the wonderful cake that Mrs. Jeon had prepared. The food had danced with her fork the short time dinner had lasted. The dance was more awkward than I imagined. Everyone exhaling tender sighs while the couple glowed in the middle of the garden. Envious women who wanted to take their place, themselves as men who longed to feel what Jungkook's hands touched as she delicately adjusted herself on the bare area of ​​his back. They were both tense.
I kept thinking about what would come next, there was less left for the evening to end and the guests to leave. With the end of each song his greatest fear was approaching, he should spend the night with Jungkook.
A couple of Jungkook's cousins ​​dragged her away to talk about marriage issues. However, Lucy was absent and lost in a sea suffocated by a storm of nerves. Himself, when they gave more than two in the morning, one of the cousins ​​took her with complicit laughter to her room. He left her alone saying goodbye with a wink that he did not see as he fell into bed.
Very soon, the door opened in a scandalous screech, standing firm with her back stretched up as she turned to see her husband. He was shocked when he saw how shabby he looked, his tie untied and his vest buttons undone with a shirt half out.
"I'll sleep in the room at the end of the hall to let you rest." A hoarse voice accompanied by an unstable babble. Lucy raised her eyebrows when she could smell alcohol filling the room. Looking more closely at his appearance, he noticed how the red cheeks and lost eyes gave rise to the thought that the stains on his pants had not been water. He looked really tired as he leaned his back against the door to stand upright.
"But this is your room," she whispered persuasively. Jungkook waved his hand away as he crawled over to his dresser to grab his nightwear.
"Never mind."
Puzzled by his sudden stability, she was left with the word in her mouth when Jungkook closed the door two seconds later.
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Two weeks later.
Like every waking up in the last days, there was a part of her that wanted to continue sleeping, to sink her head into that fluffy pillow and forget about her problems. But ignoring them wasn't the best option, still, he spent as much time as he could in the isolated room that had been on his property for a couple of days.
After the wedding night a cold air had crept in between them, Jungkook hardly spoke a word that was not strictly necessary, whether it was a good morning or a goodbye. When she left the room, he seemed to notice her presence and go to the garden with some excuse without any reliable argument. He would be lying if he said that this contempt did not hurt him in the deepest, ignoring her had become his favorite activity.
So, she was pleasantly surprised when she went down to breakfast to see two cups on the table.
"Good morning." He nodded as he walked past him so he could sit down.
"Good morning." Unlike her shyness, Jungkook seemed much more awake and with an overwhelming air that made that distressed sensation ease somewhat.
Lucy picked up her fork and began to eat silently with overly careful bites as she noticed a gaze piercing her from the other end.
"When you finish breakfast I want to teach you one thing."
True to his word, after devouring what was left of his plate, Jungkook rose from the table and she followed behind. He felt a swirl of emotions that he could not stop.
What she wasn't expecting was for him to lead her to a huge library that she hardly knew existed.
"It is huge," I admit in a scream that he confessed the wonderful surprise that had been. The books placed perfectly on the bookshelves almost perfectly, you could tell that it was an important place for Jungkook since the brightness of his eyes gleamed menacingly.
"It is entirely yours." Feel free to pick up any book you want, although we can always go to town to buy more.
"With the ones here, I think that's enough." My God! ”I shout excitedly when I visualize a golden cover more than familiar among so much wood. She raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth surprised to find that type of book, there. “Do you have the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf?” She furrowed her eyebrows in a grimace accompanied by a small smile. It was so striking that he had a children's tale among great classics that he could hardly see that Jungkook's cheeks had camouflaged a soft red.
"It was my favorite when I was little, I didn't fall asleep unless my mother read it to me at least twice." He confessed, exhaling those childhood memories. He smiled, imagining the situation of a little Jungkook between blankets as he begged his mother to start his reading. Although it died down in the same way that a feeling of remorse arose, he no longer spent time with his parents, least of all with his mother.
"You should have given him war ..."
Her velvety voice led him back to reality. Her smile just appeared when I watched from afar as Lucy's small feet leaned to reach the book. A feeling of tenderness similar to that of the other time caused him to walk to offer his help.
"Wait, I will ..."
But Lucy had already managed to catch him and they collided almost unintentionally when she got down and he lunged forward. Her back pressed to his chest harder than last time, feeling the hot breath falling into her ear, making her goose bumps. He swallowed and turned around, leaning on the shelf. Her fingers gripped the book with maddening anxiety as she realized how close they were so painful between them. Jungkook had a hand on the shelf next to her head for support, aware or not, that he was cornering her. Jungkook raised his hand in a delicate caress to her chin to get a better view of her clear eyes. The arm she had supported was closing the distance at too slow a speed, torturing her with the prospect of her dilated irises. His dark gaze kept her in place, almost instinctively or because she was amazed by that intense gaze. Her lips parted as he brought his thumb up to stroke her chin in small circles. Lucy closed her eyes to heighten the sense of pleasure, barely aware that Jungkook was approaching tortuously slow steps toward a single destination. She lifted her head a little to give him better access when she felt the brush of his nose on hers followed by a small contact with the soft skin of her approaching lips.
"Mister Jungkook your guest has just arrived." The voice of one of the house servants caused Jungkook to walk away immediately and Lucy to hide her face placing the book on her warm face.
“What guest?” I snort, trying to sound as kind as possible being aware that I had interrupted. The elderly man left the library without answering. Jungkook rubs his palm over his face to calm down and not kill whoever has come to his house without warning. Something told him that his parents' absence had something to do with the surprise guest. I glance at Lucy apologetically which the girl received with an embarrassed nod.
Through the hallway upstairs, he could already smell a peculiar perfume. The citrus smell was unmistakable, I just hope it was a mistake and that it really wasn't who I felt.
Unfortunately, going down the stairs to his huge mansion, he realized that his sense of smell had not fooled him.
"Cousin Kook but how long without seeing you!" Have you put on weight? ”Burlon, with the biggest and most false smile he could show as he followed his steps up the stairs. Jungkook snorted more than annoyed as he glared at his father, who kept a serious expression next to his wife.
“What is he doing here?” He didn't hide his anger in an ironic tone like his cousin did.
"He came on behalf of the neighboring town." I have invited you for a few days to file the sloths, please be kind.
His father's pleas caused him to sigh.
"Yes, Kook treat me like a princess." His maniacal laugh made his hair stand on end. He clenched his fists trying to control his wolf from taking over. However, another sweet smell made her look up quickly toward the stairs. "But what have we got here?" I had heard that you were married but the rumor had not reached me that your wife was such a beautiful specimen.
Lucy was halfway there when she felt the other alpha's piercing gaze from below. Her stomach clenched when she felt his eyes travel as far as he could without cutting himself. I look at Jungkook terribly self-conscious but he barely looked at him and he was already grunting at his cousin.
"Taehyung called me, did you ..." I walk in a flattering air to where she was when she finished going down the stairs to gently hold her hand and plant a kiss on the back, leaving her with a shiver. His dark eyes were similar to Jungkook's but much more mischievous. With nothing more than to compare both smiles that although they were too far away, Jungkook's toothy smile was as pleasant as the square of that flirtatious wolf.
"Lucy, please go." More than a plea, it sounded more like an overly demanding order. The vein in his neck already looked too visible, implying that his patience was running out.
"What? No, why so soon?"
Lucy looked at Jungkook for answers but only got a neutral and overly intense gaze.
"Listen to me."
"You are a curmudgeon, Cousin Kook."
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"What a heady smell, shit, I had never smelled such a smell." How lucky you are to fuck, I almost become like a small wild omega when its perfume has gone up my nostrils.
"Signature." Gag. Slipping the folder with the papers into a noisy slip.
But Taehyung smiled mischievously.
"It must have been a pleasure being paired with someone so cute," he commented. I borrow a pen from the desk to capture his signature. They were just papers that agreed to the new territory deal. Delimiting their land so that there are no misunderstandings when hunting. Jungkook was deeply upset with his father's actions, he could have brought his uncle, at least he would not have to endure such high alpha airs. She didn't want him here, much less knowing that Lucy was close. He was jealous, damned jealous. Because although he trusted her, not so much in him.
"It is not your fault." Now get out of my sight.
"Oh come, we are family, there are no secrets between blood brothers. What was it like to take it? Delicious sure. What legs and what small breasts so well placed, how does your ..."
"If you talk about my female again with those words." No. ”He patted the table as he got up, a shout rumbling dominated by his primitive impulses. He had to calm down or he would end up transforming and slitting his neck. She closed her eyes, hiding her fiery red irises as she ran her tongue over her raging lip. "If you ever talk about my female again, no matter what it is, I'm going to rip your throat out with my fangs."
"Well, it hit you hard."
"Stay away from her, Taehyung." Don't force me to follow through on my threat.
"Relax, you're a little tense," the brown-haired boy lied, rising to rest his hands on his cousin's shoulders. Jungkook identified the fact as a mockery, finally roaring at Taehyung so that he would take his hands off her. Fangs coming out to impose dominance, Taehyung ended up walking away as he raised his hands to the air, hiding with an awkward smile how much his howl had stunned him.
"You better not notice your scent near her."
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"Too bad my beloved uncles can't join us for this delicious dinner," Taehyung mentioned as he devoured a piece of meat with a pleasant smile. Jungkook rolled his eyes, then looked at Lucy to verify her condition. She looked awkward, too self-conscious about dining with someone she didn't know.
"Yes, eat and be quiet."
"Were you always so irascible or is it because I'm close to your female?"
Lucy, who until then had been quietly eating, raised her head to Taehyung quite surprised. Flashing nervously as she clarified in her head if what she had just said was true, or just the result of her joking nature. Jungkook had to hold back a groan to stay seated and not jump at his cousin's neck.
"Shut up and eat," he growled menacingly. Casting out your voice I recorded with as much impatience as shame. Lucy was listening to everything, and if she could perceive, just a little bit, discomfort in her. Taehyung would end up in the backyard with his head buried in the ground.
"Why are you reacting like this?" A moment ago you were yelling at me that if I approached her you would nail my fangs.
"With permission," she apologized in a too embarrassed whisper. Jungkook frowned too sadly when he saw her almost run to disappear. He squeezed the fork showing his white knuckles with a thirst for blood, specifically, that of his cousin. Giving Taehyung a voracious glance, he ran after her to try to explain.
It was a relief to him to see her climb the stairs.
"Sorry, it is martyrdom to dine with someone like him." I shouldn't have asked you to come down to dinner with us. ”He spoke too regretfully. Lucy suspended her leg and turned, holding on to the railing. She contracted when she saw true overwhelm in Jungkook's dark pupils, at least he had come looking for her.
"Yeah, it's kind of weird," I whisper. I go down the steps to shorten the distance, staying a couple higher to place his eyes on a level with his. Taehyung's inappropriate comments had made her more uncomfortable than she would like to admit, but that had not been the main reason she had decided to run away. "What she said ..." soft babble. Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed too hard. There was illusion in its brilliance, so much so that Jungkook was almost blind. She could feel the intensity with which her heart beat, nervous about an answer. "Is it true?"
"It is not so, I just warned him that he will not approach you. He did not mean it, well, unless he makes it clear." He ended up confessing. Lucy pursed her lips, she had avoided his question.
"Would you only do that to him if he got close to me? Why?"
He didn't know what, but his chest heaved with excitement, if he could ever know that Jungkook saw her as a female and not as the girl he had been forced to marry to keep his bond.
"You should have listened to the endless barbaric things he said about you as if he were an omega in heat." I don't want him to be near you, that's all.
"Your female said."
Jungkook straightened his back taut, his shoulders haughty from the rise of his chest in alarm. He felt anxiety in her, a need that was mortifying him. She didn't want to hurt him, because if she did, he would.
"Yeah, well, don't take it into account. Taehyung says a lot of nonsense. It's the only thing he's good at."
"I don't know why, but I have a feeling you're hiding something from me, Jungkook."
"I'm not hiding anything from you."
"Then why do you run away to the room farthest from the hallway every night?" Gripping the railing too tightly. She was agitated, annoyed by her cowardice.
"That's my business," he growled before walking out the other door.
Lucy tried to go down the steps to follow him but suddenly, her belly contracted curving her towards the railing. She moaned a little dizzy, thinking innocently that it was from eating so fast at dinner.
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Drowned in her own sweat, anguished by the heat so suffocating that itchy between her legs. He opened his mouth and roared impatiently. Had a month already passed? As he could, he got out of bed almost dragging himself across the floor to get urgently to the bathroom kit. She opened the closet with so much anxiety that the products were scattered on the floor, the occasional shampoo spilling its contents. He didn't care too much, now he had more important things to take care of.
"It can't be," I sob. Her belly contracted so powerfully again that she ended up on her knees. She did not recall having been so suffocatingly hot. She felt the moisture between her thighs when I rub them out of necessity. Now he understood that rush to unite male and female when they were just beginning to be considered adults. Females were usually warm once a month when the full moon shone high in the dark sky. Also, he had known, from the many books he had read on the female body, that, as you turned years, the need for you to be taken was getting stronger. Until now, I hadn't felt the need to get fucked so badly.
I was involved in a pretty serious problem. Its heat had never passed without the inhibitirios and if it hurt now, he couldn't imagine how it would roar when midnight will come.
As best he could, he managed to hold himself up to go back to bed. With beads of sweat and red cheeks trying not to faint on the way. A delicious smell began to cloud her senses, these being much more receptive when his heat possessed her, a smell of honey, delicious honey coming from the closet. I drag my feet toward the cabinet, licking his mouth at how dry it was. When he opened its doors, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth fell open at the overpowering scent of the hanging garment. It was his jacket and his fucking scent.
Lucy slammed the door when she felt lucidity for a second. He had to go back to bed, even if he didn't want to, he had to. He couldn't continue torturing himself with her scent because that would make his situation worse.
But it didn't last long, her belly throbbed furiously again, taking away the little sanity she'd tried to establish. Her legs couldn't be any more wet from the exhorted amount of lubrication that was expelled from her vagina. His hole closing around nothing, urgently demanding to be filled by something, by an alpha's cock.
She opened the doors like a desperate woman. When the garment ripped, its scent not only penetrated her nose, it also contracted her belly even further. Lucy, lost in that exciting scent, ripped the jacket from the hanger, breaking it into a thousand pieces. He brought the garment up to his nose and breathed in its scent.
She growled completely overpowered, controlled by her scent, she ended up running down the hall in search of him.
I needed it to ease her.
He needed me to fuck her so badly.
He wanted his fucking cock between her thighs.
"Jungkook ..." I sob at the door. Anxiously scratching at the wood when I try to open it to find it closed. Jungkook woke up suddenly as a desperately sweet scent rose up his nose roses. I gasp, looking down at the sheets. His cock throbbed in need as I heard her moan behind the door.
He got up, sweating from his hands and his mouth suddenly dry. I put her ear to the door to hear her better.
"Get away," he growled. Lucy gasped needlessly, feeling distressed at his rejection. What he didn't know is that, Jungkook was controlling himself, he was using all his self-control not to knock down the door and fuck her in the hallway, open her beautiful legs and sink his cock deep inside her until he shouted her name.
"Please ... It hurts so much." His needy little howl was too devastating. Her irises took on the reddish color of her wolf when she squeezed her thighs and her wonderful lubrication rose up her nose. He licked his lips anxiously, too overwhelmed. He put his hand on the latch. I gasp at the anticipation.
But he shook his head away from the door.
"Go back to sleep, Lucy." He growled back. "I don't want to hurt you."
Jungkook slammed his fist against the door. Why did everything have to be so unfair? Why should he have known her like this? He cursed in fury when he heard him walk down the hall. He had perceived disappointment, sadness, much pain. Damn, he didn't reject her because he didn't want her, his damn erection screamed to sink into her tight pussy, but, the feeling of guilt was still installed in his chest.
He didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of her.
Too overwhelmed by shortness of breath, she ran to the nearest balcony. His hands hit the railing in anguish as he crashed into it. He stretched his neck back, his head back, the cool air calming his anxiety a little.
"My God, I've been following your scent all over the hall." A hoarse voice appeared from behind. Scaring her too much. Turning, he encountered Taehyung's mischievous pout. She clung to the wall as much as she could when she saw the air brazenly smelling. "Are you okay puppy?" I can help you with something?
"I don't think you can help me on this," I stammer in a hoarse tone. He didn't like the threatening look with which he was running her. He watched her with lust, his intense red eyes as he approached with slow steps.
"I think so," he assured. He smiled, gleaming his tongue in one step through his fangs. "But, I'm confused." Why aren't you fucking your husband? ”She scoffed, giggling wickedly at the need on her face. Delighting in the wet sweat that stuck her nightgown to her skin. Then, in an act that couldn't scare her anymore, Taehyung seemed to hit something on his head, stopping abruptly with a too dark, mischievous glow. “It hasn't taken you, yet.
"No, he, yes ...
"Don't lie to me or burn in hell, needy puppy," I whisper too attracted by my gasp. He strode over to me to stand in front of me, lightly imposing his body. I swallowed saliva burdened by the smell of pine that began to rise up my nose. Taehyung smelled great, but it wasn't the scent he wanted. I felt too small under his piercing predatory gaze. "Damn, how could I have rejected you and more when you have your heat?"
"He has not rejected me, I am the one who has decided to go through this." I tried to face him, thanking the cold weather for helping me to reduce the suffocation a little. But, I didn't count on him also being able to take advantage of the movement of the air to better inhale my scent and to know, through my heartbeat and my fear, that he was lying.
"But how capricious is destiny and what a beautiful coincidence. My parents are crazy because I do not commit myself, it is not my fault that the betas of my town are not pleasant to me. Like ... like you."
"You should listen to Jungkook and go back to bed."
I tried to get under his arm but he immediately got in the way.
"Oh! Wasn't it you who had decided not to relieve yourself?"
"I have to go," she sobs. This was getting out of hand, he could perfectly feel the need in his eyes, in the evil play of his tongue on his fangs.
"Don't go, going through the heat without a male is very hard." I can help you, let me ease you ...
"I'm already taken ..."
As I pulled my face away from his hand when I tried to stroke my cheek, I became hysterical. My heaving chest being stopped by his. I was very close, I wanted to go. Damn, I should have stayed in bed.
"Trickster pup, I can smell how needy you are from here." Just let me ...
"I warned you not to go near her." A deafening roar came from the balcony entrance. Taehyung stopped cornering me by turning abruptly. I shrugged my stomach full of fear. Jungkook roared furiously at his cousin, he was really afraid that in one of these he would jump against him and kill him. His gaze was so threatening, red irises, his chest heaving as he blew air out of his mouth.
"I have only offered my help." I was greatly surprised when I perceived fear in his tone, Taehyung seemed terribly terrified by the way he looked at his white knuckles.
"I'm going to slit your throat so deep that your pathetic alpha blood stained my mother's carpet," he roared. She screamed in fright when in overly striding strides, she approached Taehyung and lifted him up into the air before slamming his back against the wall. The chestnut groaned disoriented, coughing as Jungkook began to squeeze his neck.
"Jungkook ..." I sob scared to see him lose control like that. The muscles in his back tensed, then he dropped Taehyung's body to the ground, letting him cough from lack of oxygen.
"I told you to go back to your room, Lucy!" Damn it! ”He turned to her with all the rage in the world. Lucy cringed against the wall when she saw him approach.
"It's not even my room!" All this would not have happened if instead of marrying me you had married my sister! ”She cried. He ran away with tears clouding his sight. She couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't take her rejection, her screams anymore. She urgently needed to sink her head into her pillow and cry until she ran out of water on her body. She never imagined that she could yell at him like that, look at him with such contempt.
She entered the room slamming the door. She didn't care that Jungkook's parents heard her in her little tantrum. He ran to the bed and sat down as he placed his hand on his chest.
The door opened, then slammed shut more loudly than hers.
"Get up, let's talk," he demanded. Standing in front of the bed with his arms crossed. He was too irritated, he needed to control himself but that would require a time he didn't have.
"I don't want to talk to you," she denied as she drove her tear-stained gaze to the bed. She didn't want to look at him, she felt so humiliated and despised.
“You are an unconscious, how could it occur to you to wander around the house knowing that there is another male nearby that can smell you?” He growled, moving his arms from side to side, losing control. Thinking of everything that could have happened if he hadn't arrived on time, of the consequences that would have ruined everything. The moment an alpha marks you, you lose any chance of belonging to another male. The beta bite was easy to replace. But Taehyung was an alpha, if he had marked his precious neck, goodbye, because that would mean that his scent, his blood, his everything would belong to him. And that, that bitter feeling had him too upset. He didn't want it to belong to anyone but him, from the first time he smelled her, from the first time he saw her, he knew in the depths of his heart that this female would be for him.
"Do you mind?"
"Of course he does, you're my wife!"
“I am nothing of yours, nor have you even taken me!” His dominant roar caught him off guard. Accustomed to keeping situations under control, I let Lucy get up and push him away. Jungkook did not move, he was simply surprised by how really upset he noticed her. He felt so much disappointment, a craving so strong that it clouded his character. One more push, a heartbreaking sob, Jungkook caught his hands before he continued to hurt himself. Suddenly, all the anger, all the jealousy left her body, changing into a feeling of guilt. A terrible and distressing feeling of sadness. I hear her heart pound, her irises swell. She wasn't mad at him, she was mad at herself. That feeling ended up confusing him.
Lucy, still defeated by exhaustion, continued to stir in her arms, screaming, crying, pleading for him to leave. Jungkook ended up overpowered by his instincts, drawing her tightly to him. She was silenced by the touch of his hot breath on the sensitive skin of her upper lip. He swallowed, the alpha's fingers clenching his arm so eagerly that he would swear that tomorrow he would have bruises on his skin. I avoid eye contact, closing my eyes, tilting my head to avoid being controlled by her red irises.
"You haven't even kissed me ..." he confessed with all the pain in the world. Opening her eyes to send him a heartbreaking look, full of broken illusions. Jungkook stared at the deep detail of his yellowish irises. His fingers tightened more intensely, he could not control himself, less when the smell of his heat impacted urgently on his nose. Much less when an anxious moan emerged from her perfect lips after rubbing her thighs. Her eyelids half closed with excitement. Its brilliance startled at the bad need to be reciprocated.
Jungkook couldn't take it anymore, too much emotion, too much demure. He could no longer hold back, he had lost because he had fallen before his most primitive self. Jungkook squeezed his arm again, emitting a hoarse moan when he inhaled thoroughly. His smell. Damn it, it was dripping. It was ready for him, so that he would take it as he had wanted so much.
"Jungk ...
But he had already silenced her. He slammed her against the door to press her against his body. He grabbed her by the neck and brought her to his desperate mouth. Her lips parted wide, not caring that he was being too rough. He had been too long ignoring her wishes, now they would be more than rewarded. Lucy's eyes tightened at the addictive taste of his saliva. He groaned, letting his inner wolf take the reins, reaching up his hair to clench his hair in a fist as they eagerly ate their mouths. There was a moment when Jungkook parted his lips, causing such a flattering snap that he almost lost his identity. She, seized with excitement, ran to glue their mouths together, but Jungkook held her in place in an overly revealing growl. Lucy gasped in agitation from shortness of breath. Jungkook groaned before dominance kissing her again. Their kiss was so dirty, full of passion and accumulated lust. Out of necessity, Jungkook's hands slid down the curve of her waist until they reached her hip and clenched them eagerly. She stifled a pleading moan. He kept going down terribly slow, squeezing her bottom, making it collide with the protruding bulge that caged his pants.
"God I want to fuck you so badly." He almost drowned out his voice when he returned he felt the moisture of his crotch wet his needy erection. Lucy gasped in pain, a fear in her eyes making him stop abruptly. "Lucy, if you don't want us to ... We better stop now."
But she was too fucked up, she was still scared, but it wasn't because of the situation, or because of him, she was just panicked not to like him without clothes.
"I want to," she whispered, pulling her mischievous tooth closer to stretch her lip. Jungkook placed his open palms on his waist to bring his noses together and thus, not miss the detail of his dilated eyes.
"Fuck," I howl. Desperate, he urgently kneaded her butt making her moan. He crushed his hands on her thighs to lift her up. Her legs encircled his waist, her small body matched his so well. Jungkook didn't waste much time finishing taking her to the bed to throw her on the sheets. Her back bounced up the nightgown, revealing to her anxious eyes the sweet skin of her velvet thighs. Lucy, excited, tried to rub her thighs to calm the itch in her crotch, but Jungkook didn't let her. She crushed her hands to his skin and spread her legs too desperately. His hand went to his sweaty face, letting his fingers run in soft caresses down her neck, licking his lips at the sight so appetizing. He let his hand roam the endless ends of her collarbones, gently skirting the bone until she fell into the valley of her breasts with her nipples presenting herself enthusiastically to him. I knead one of her breasts while sighing. Lucy cried, dropping her head. Her delicious sweaty neck exposed for her mouth. I couldn't be more excited to mark it. Jungkook raised his corners to form a delightful smile, his eyes directed to the dark stain of her panties. "I can smell from here how needy you are for an alpha's cock."
"Please ..." I sob disturbed by the uncontrollable need I suffered. Her back was curved forward so as not to lose the sensation of his touch. With her legs open for him. Jungkook reached for her panties and gently squeezed her fingers. Making them wet and a little sticky. Lucy gasped, groaned, all she could emit was coming out of her half-open mouth. Her nightgown was almost ripped from her weak, dying body. Her nipples greeted him erect with excitement. On instinct, Jungkook licked his lips imagining what it would be like to have those beautiful, round and perfect breasts in his mouth. Another in his place would have lost his mind, ripped his pants off and started to fuck her, but maybe it was the time he had thought about having her so he wanted to have a little time, enjoy his body.
 He took off his shirt, revealing his majestic figure, those broad shoulders, well-marked pecs that gnashed with the desire of his mouth to try, his damn abs, and above all, that path of pubic hair that disappeared through his pants. Those who hid something much more attractive. Jungkook threw his head back leaving the sight of his wide and shiny neck as a reward for how wet the accumulated sweat had left him.
"Give me time, honey." It's been a long time since I've wanted to know the taste of your skin. ”I whisper under a persuasive tone. I put my mouth to her neck to start distributing wet kisses and small bites that did nothing but leave her wanting more. I stick my tongue out to run it inside her neck, her hot breath contrasting against the wet area leaving her completely on edge. Lucy tried to close her thighs but found Jungkook's hips. Her nipples tightened from the pressure of his chest coupled with hers. His hand hooked into her silky hair to stretch from the roots. Jungkook growled disgust bringing his mouth to hers anxiously. Lucy opened her mouth when she felt the pressure of his tongue on her lower lip. I kiss her hard, hard. The nails superficially scratched his broad back as he came down to attack her neck again, this time, much stronger. There was no more compassion, he kissed her, mojo and bit as he wanted.
Like the hand between their bodies to knead her breast urgently, she embedded her nails into his skin when her nipple cried out in pain from the pressure just exerted.
"Oh, Jungkook," she moaned uncontrollably as she felt her teeth roam over his collarbones. His bites, despite being, a little strong, there was some love in them, an affection that was represented with kisses to calm the bruises. He caressed with the surface of his lip until he reached the sensitive skin of his halo, which he wet with his tongue and introduced into his mouth. The salty taste of his skin was too addictive, he was sure, when he had the privilege of clenching his nipple with his teeth, that this game had made him a gambler. It parted, leaving a click too suggestive to slide into the other.
"Shit, from the first time I saw you I wanted to do this." I speak against his skin creating tickles. Lucy moaned as she punched the sheets when her separation was with a suction. "If your pathetic boyfriend hadn't been there, he would have ripped your clothes off and fucked you right there."
"I would have left you," I sob. Too lost in how her tongue sank slowly into her navel. Her body spasmed slightly as she felt an overly suggestive kiss on top of her panties. The pressure of his mouth had been so wonderful that I swear at that moment, that when he took that garment out and kissed her again, he couldn't live a single day without it. Jungkook let out a too hoarse laugh, his breath hitting her folds directly as one of her fingers pushed aside her panties.
"Would my bitch let me pierce her sweet kitty with my huge cock?"
Jungkook stretched his mouth with pleasure as his eyes never stopped looking at his needy gaze. Lucy swallowed nervously, anxious that her lips that brushed her tender spot would drop a little further. Jungkook licked his lips one last time before crushing a sweet kiss right in the center.
"Jungkook ..." she howled agitatedly as she felt more pressure from her sinful lips. Her tongue came to play an important role, starring in a walk between her folds leaving her with a dry throat. "God, yes! Jungkook please ..." She kept screaming ecstatically, and somehow, she loved it. His cock vibrated with enthusiasm inside her pants. She loved his pleading as he kissed her inflated clit. He brought a finger to the scene, stroking its red button so he could stick his tongue down. Lucy moaned uncontrollably with her legs too restless, Jungkook held her open with one hand while the other pressed her palm against his center, before taking the liberty of inserting a finger. His hole cutter sucked easily. A compassionate scream succumbed strongly when she felt what her first orgasm was. Her cheek was resting on the pillow with her mouth open for better breathing. Her belly rising and falling. Her legs dropping from exhaustion.
Jungkook broke up to enjoy his work. Seeing her so agitated just with his tongue made her want to tear her apart. I eagerly remove his pants to release his needy cock. Lucy's eyes widened at the noise and she looked at her. It was much larger than he had expected with the wet pink tip of his own precum. Jungkook moved his cock, stretching his skin, letting the beta's ears hear the wet snap of her masturbation. Her mouth became water but that did not remove the fear that began to help her. It was her first time, she had had an orgasm lubricating her entrance much more, however, that did not block the thoughts of how that would fit inside her little hole. She started to panic because until now she hadn't noticed the pain the first few times.
She tried to get up off the mattress too agitated but Jungkook wrapped her neck to lay her down again. Her red irises caused yellow ones to appear. Lucy began to stir from lack of oxygen while complaining in sobs. Jungkook groaned dominant, leaving her completely still. Pleasure clouded her mind again, leaving her under his control.
"Spread your legs for me, darling," I order too impatiently. Lucy spread her legs, clearing the way for her moisture to hit her nose again. With his free hand he brought the tip of his cock to his hole, letting just his touch cause impatient moans. I run the tip to lubricate with his moisture, Lucy dropped her head while panting too far. "Shit, your little wet kitten is soaking the tip of my cock. Do you want it inside you?"
"Yes," I sob. Spreading your legs wider if possible. Jungkook groaned satisfied at his submission. Her fingers closed enthusiastically in his throat.
"A lot?"
"A lot..."
   Sliding slowly so as not to harm him, finally, he introduced the first centimeters, causing both screams of pleasure. Jungkook started to get dizzy when his tight entrance pressed his walls against him.
"Shit, I won't be able to control myself, you're too close." I sob, letting out a shaky gasp. Too much pleasure was beginning to impose his impulses on his clarity. It was her first time, she really didn't want to split her in two, but it was so hard to stay steady when as he entered, inch by inch, she urgently spread her legs wider.
"Don't do it, take me however you want." You are my alpha I am at your disposal.
  She was so good that she took away what little sanity she had forced herself to keep. He placed himself faithfully on top of her, trying not to crush her completely. He slid his hand down her throat to the nape of her neck and pulled her into his desperate mouth. Their tongues were too anxious. She felt Lucy's nails adjust to her skin, her other hand stretching the strands of her disheveled hair. The kiss was cut off by her when Jungkook made his first lunge. Her head fell limp to the pillow, offering her neck without realizing it. Jungkook grabbed her hips to improve her fit. Lucy moaned again and he smiles on the skin of her chin.
"My sweet submissive puppy." He kissed her ear with a too dark tenderness. Lucy gasped as she let her lips stutter meaninglessly. Jungkook clenched his hips eagerly as he picked up a much more predatory rhythm. He ended up panting hoarsely against his ear. "Tonight I'll settle for taking you like that, spreading my legs as I sink the way I want." But the rest of the nights I want you with your ass up showing me that delicious ass.
"More, give me, more." I almost shouted. Disoriented by the cloud of pleasure that clouded her mind. Her nails leaving small furrows of reddened skin. His hands melted into her hips celebrating a devastating rhythm. It was no longer controlled, the need to make her moan was much stronger.
"Do you like how I fuck you?" I whisper agitatedly against her ear as the head of the bed hit the wall with fury. "My good bitch is going to carry my puppies."
"Yes Yes."
"Shit." He closed his eyes ecstatically. He had never felt such pleasure, it was as if all his instincts would rise to a thousand and his belly was about to explode in a wonderful way.
   Lucy gasped as the pressure returned to her lower abdomen. He brought his hands up to his neck when Jungkook lovingly assaulted his neck again. Lucy groaned in shock as she felt the sharp tips of her fangs crash against her warm skin. He didn't even know why they had appeared, Jungkook had only become aware of his presence when he tried to kiss an old ribeye.
"Take me," she gasped in overwhelming anxiety. Jungkook put his hand to his neck, turned his head to his liking, and finally sank his fangs into his flesh. Jungkook stopped his movements to prevent the wound from getting bigger. Not realizing that the orgasm overwhelmed them when she decided to drink his blood. When they were removed, two small holes were marked on his neck that would later disappear. Creating a bond for life. Lucy pressed her cheek to the fluffy surface with more than surprise. Feeling his cum dripping inside her, hitting her walls with enthusiasm as her small contractions milked him patiently. She was suddenly deeply excited.
A few minutes later, Jungkook came out of it. He lay on the bed with one arm tucked under his head. Lucy snuggled into his chest a little shy as she felt Jungkook's hand tighten on her hip to pull her closer.
"Why did you take so long?" She murmured a little self-consciously. He had just realized that he had been screaming too enthusiastically. She blushed embarrassed. Still a little dizzy, she crushed her cheek to his warm chest. His breath fell heavily against her hair, relaxing her.
"For fear of letting my impulses dominate me. I didn't want to hurt you."
"That time..."
"Yes, dammit, there was nothing I wanted in the world more than to eat your mouth and put your butt on my father's desk." But I shouldn't, we barely knew each other and I didn't want you to form a wrong image of me.
   Lucy put a hand on her chest and looked at him with her eyes open.
"And what image do you think I have of you now?"
"I don't care, because I'm going to do what I told you, Lucy." I love you every night with me.
"Do you love me?" Jungkook managed to perceive her emotion, as her heartbeat ran wild inside her chest, giving her away completely.
"I don't love you, I love you."
  They both drew a too cute smile.
"Me too, alpha."
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lassluna · 4 years ago
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Off the Deep End (2/?)
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Emma Swan has had to fight for everything in her life. She’s had to fight to keep a roof over their heads, she’s had to fight to keep her marriage from crumbling--that was a fight doomed from the start--and to fight to make something of herself.
Then of course that rich snob on a boat cost her her job. He’s an absolute prick who has probably never fought for anything in his entitled life. So when an opportunity for a little revenge pops up, who was she to deny it?
Now she has to fight to keep from having actual feelings for the amnesiac who might just care about her and her kids.
CS Overboard AU
Ao3 FFN
AN: Long over due second chapter of my @captainswanmoviemarathon​, submission thank you so much for you support of this. I really appreciate it. Also thank you @carpedzem​ for the wonderful art It’s wonderful as always.  
Chapter 2
Killian Jones had never wanted for anything. Not with his mother’s multimillion dollar shipping company that she had built herself. Their fortune provided him the opportunity to live in the lapse of luxury, anything he so desired was his with a simple phone call or a credit card. Everything except his mother herself.
He remembered Alice Jones fondly, remembers the trips to the beach they went on, being 5 years old and watching her teach his elder brother to sail. They both adored their time with her, their time cooking in the kitchen, going to a movie anything to keep the boys from realizing just how privileged they were.
He remembers what she used to tell them before they went to sleep. “A man who doesn’t fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.” She would say. He tried to live by that, even after her death when he was still a child. Even after his father, drowning in grief,  spent most of his childhood in board meetings or bars rather than with him.
Boarding schools raise the children of the rich. This was a fact Killian knew quite well from all his time spent in them. But Killian was nothing if not resourceful. A man who doesn’t fight for what they want deserves what they get, and so whatever Killian wanted, he would get. He had enough power and influence to do so. 
Sometimes it took money, other times it took throwing around his father’s reputation. Anyone who said no to him never held firm for long, all it took was a message to his father (His secretary really if Killian was being honest)  and whatever stood in his way crumbled under their weight. 
(Killian never really asked how exactly they did it, just that it was easier than parenting)
Liam never really liked Killian’s mentality when it came to these things, he always tried to teach Killian how to deal with things like this with honor or good form. Those concepts made him roll his eyes.
It’s not like Liam ever stuck around either to actually clean up the mess his bouts of ‘honor’ led him into. The moment Liam joined the military Killian was alone again, back to handling things his way. It was easier that way.    
Killian would never want for anything. Except maybe for this splitting headache to subside. And it wasn’t from a bloody hangover.
“Here you go babe.” A voice says besides him as one of the crewen handed her an icepack to put on his aching head. “I can’t believe that crazy person threw you off your own ship!” She exclaims, the coldness seems to help his aching head.
He smiled at her, his brunette beautiful girlfriend of half a decade. He doesn’t know what he’d do without her, or at the very least he’d have a lot less fun doing it.
“Perhaps Mr. Jones needs to go see a doctor.” The crewman notes. Milah rolls her eyes.
“Killian is fine, aren’t you babe?” She asks. “We have a party tonight that I-we simply can not miss.” He smirks. Typical Milah, much like himself she knows that the celebration shouldn’t stop, he was Killian Jones after all.  
What he wanted, he got, what he couldn’t have he’d buy. Simple as that.
“Mr. Jones, you have a call sir.” Another crewman said, the young lady who typically served the food. He waved her away.
“Tell whoever that is I’m busy.” He says. He does not have time for his father or brother getting involved in his personal life. Always wanting to change him to fit their needs. He had no interest in whatever they had to say.
“Your brother says it can’t wait.” She adds nervously. “He said something about flying over if you don’t take his call.
Killian groans in annoyance. The only thing worse than talking to Liam is him showing up here unannounced and killing his buzz. He recalls a time last year when he and his mates stormed into his party and effectively confiscated all the rum, a killing blow to even the most lively of events.
“Fine.” He says offering his hand for the phone. “What is it brother?”
“Nice way to greet me, little brother.” Liam says mildly amused. 
“Younger brother.” He responds impatiently. Killian’s always hated his nickname which of course just made Liam use it at every turn. “Now tell me what’s so important that you had to threaten to show up if I don’t answer?” He snaps. He glances at Milah’s face, she seems mildly annoyed but listening all the same. 
“Why are you in Maine?” He asks. “You’re supposed to be in New York for father’s birthday.” Killian rolls his eyes.
“Well that’s exactly why I am here, brother. Today it’s Maine and then tomorrow we head out to cross the Atlantic, we’re thinking of hitting London next.I have no intention of visiting my father and his gang of supporters and gathering around and talking about what a wonderful father he is.” Killian snaps. “You and I both know he wasn’t.”
“Be that as it may, he still only wants the best for us.” Liam adds. “Just come down, smile and then you can be off again.”
“You know the second I step foot there he’s going to be down my throat about taking up the reigns of the company alongside you.” Killian reminds him. He does so every time he sees him. 
“And is that so bad?” Liam asks. “Is it so terrible to try to protect what mother built? So terrible to make something of our lives?” Killian can tell he was getting impatient with him “It’s about time you stop obsessing over the past and grow up brother.”
“Easy for you to say, you joined the bloody military to get away from him.” Killian reminds him. While Liam was off being the honorable brother, he was expected to take part of their mother’s company. He never wanted any of that. But what he wanted never seemed to matter. 
“And you used alcohol and your bloody boat.” Liam snaps. “What would our mother think if she saw you now? Prancing around without a care in the world with that gold digger at your side”
Now Killian was getting angry. “Mother always said we need to fight for what we want, brother. And right now I want to be done with this conversation.”
Killian didn’t wait for a response before hanging up.
He gives a long sigh, running his hand through his hair in frustration. Talking to his family always left him frustrated. Couldn’t they see he was not interested in any of that? That he was perfectly content with life as it was?
“I’m sorry sweetie.” Milah says, as she always does when he has a difficult phone call with his family. “But maybe it’s best for us to go.” She offers. “Rub a few elbows, and maybe get absolutely wasted at your dear ol’ dad’s expense.” She says with a smirk.
He can’t help smile at Milah’s attempt to make him feel better.  
“But for now, let’s get ready for the best party this little rundown port has ever seen!” She says happily. She stands up and points to the crew who had given her the cold press. “What are you standing around for? We have work to do.” She announces. “Don’t worry babe, I’ll take care of everything.” She promises.
True to her word, she does. Killian can’t help but laugh at the way Milah barked her orders and demanded at his employees, making sure that this party Milah insisted on throwing was to her liking.
Hell hath no fury like a disappointed Milah.
 //
The party was excellent, just as Milah intended. Lord knows he would have heard about it had things gone any other way. It was something Killian liked about her, always striving for perfection. 
They headed off to sea onwards the end of the party, just in time for the locals to get the bloody hell off his ship. Killian quite enjoyed it like that. He much preferred to head off to England with just his normal crew and Milah.
���Did you have a good time?” Milah asks, smiling down at him from her position on the railing. He was nursing one last beer, watching the lights from the town fade away.
“Of course love.” He says, standing up to give her a swift peck on the cheek. She didn’t hesitate to draw him in deeper, a hand on his cheek. “I always do.”
It made her smile brighter.
“Always.” She repeats. “That’s what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. We’ve been together for years Killian.” 
He nods. It had been a whirlwind romance, full of sex and alcohol and quite a bit of fun along the way. She understood him in ways that most did not. Far more than his brother or father ever did.
“Always.” Milah repeats. “Do you think...” She trails off. He smiles, cupping her cheek.
“What is it? You know you can talk to me.”
“Killian.” She says slowly. “Have you ever thought... do you think...”She looks away then glances up. “Marry me Killian Jones.”
He doesn’t think he’s heard her correctly. Marriage? Him?
He can’t help it, he bursts out laughing. Him marry her? It was more ridiculous the more he thought about it. He felt Milah push him away, her hopeful smile gone in an instant. 
“Why are you laughing?” She demands. “You ungrateful bastard.” She pushes him again rougher.
“Milah...” He says trailing off. “Why the hell would I want to marry you?” Because that’s the truth. They’d never spoken about this, never talked long term. Sure they've been together for the last few years but he never...he never thought about them being long term, never thought she wanted that life.
He sure as hell doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to run the company like Liam wants him to. He doesn’t want to stop seeing the world and he sure as hell doesn’t want marriage and children.
Perhaps Milah doesn’t quite understand him like he thought.
“Because-Because” She stutters out. “Because you love me!” She declares. 
He shakes his head. “Milah I think you have the wrong idea about what we have. It’s just...fun, nothing so serious. Just mindless fun.”
“You absolute jackass!” She shrieks and gives him another push in the chest. It doesn’t hurt persay, but it does make his grip on the railing loosen, then there’s a sickening crack as the security on the railing breaks under their weight. He stumbles backwards and barely catches himself. He’s holding onto his ship now.
“Bloody hell.” He curses. “That was a close-”
He’s interrupted by something being smashed over his head. The next thing he knows he hits the freezing cold water below.
//
He wakes up cold. The sun is high in the sky and everything bloody hurts. From his head, to his arm to ever bloody inch of his skin.
He groans at sound above him, buzzing and buzzing.
“...who is he...”
“...ambulance...”
He opens his eyes just a crack. There’s a man, no two of them, standing over him, one has a phone in his hand.
“Sir?” he says. “Are you alright?”
He’s not but that should be bloody obvious.
“Can you tell us your name?” He blinks.
He can’t. He can’t remember...anything.
//
“Killian Swan.” He repeats, now knowing his name. 
Something about the name doesn’t sit right with him. But then again, he doesn’t know what does sit right with him. 
He narrows his eyes at the blonde. “And you’re my wife?” He repeats, looking over the blonde once more. She’s attractive enough, he thinks. But she seems guarded, not at all the warm welcome he expected from a loving wife. Not to mention the obvious waitress outfit she had on. No, no wife of his would have to resort to serving food to make a living. He can’t explain it, but he knows that his life was more than that, it was...he wasn’t sure...
“What the bloody hell happened? Why am I here and why can’t I remember anything?” He snaps impatiently. He has a hundred questions, starting with why he woke up on the beach and why it took him so long to be found. He’s been in this insufferable hospital for hours and-
“Cool it buddy.” The blonde snaps, shutting him down immediately. “Doctors say you got hit in the head, gave you some long term amnesia, probably from falling off the harbor drinking.”
“Drinking.” He repeats. Now that sounds like a fantastic idea...
“How are you feeling?” She asks, her expression softening slightly. But he can still feel walls from his lovely wife.
“Irritated.” He replies. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth?”
The blonde crosses her arms. “You have a compass tattoo on your rib cage.” She replies. “A little detail I would only know if I was your wife.” She replies smugly. 
“I do not have a-” He stops short as he lifts his shirt to reveal the exact compass tattoo the woman described. He traces it lightly with his fingers. Ink on his own body that he didn’t recognize. “Bloody hell.” He says in realization. 
“You really are my wife”
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ithinkthereforiamfandom · 5 years ago
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Cupid AU WIP
EDIT: This piece is now Finished. AO3
I'll be doing a Beta read/Edit for a friend this weekend so I'll be fairly busy. Alright, *deep breath* below is the 1st 2K of my current WIP. I'm a bit intimidated by what I've taken on TBH. I currently have over 5K with an established beginning (see below the cut I tried to insert) and I've got the end set as well, I know the journey to get there, it just looks Huge ATM. In short I'm looking for attention *perishes of embarrassment*, a little validation, just feeling Smol atm and need a bit of help plz.
[MORE]
John Watson trudged through the park, Not enjoying his down time at all but he was on his way to a meeting with Mike Stamford so hopefully things would improve soon. People thought of Cupid as some chubby baby with a bow and arrows but Cupids did more than just bring couples together. Love worked a shit load harder than just igniting the odd soul mate spark. Love healed, comforted, inspired, guarded… and Cupids where the guides and guardians of Love regardless of what form it took. Also John was bored… He wasn’t like Mike who trained Cupids at the hospital where hearts broke, they died, and new heart were born, all needing Love in some form. John was a BattleCupid when hearts were at war there, for the sake of Love, stood John Watson and it had nearly cost him a wing but he loved the work. It was his life. He had just returned from Afghanistan were his chances had been few but vital. The kindness shown to local children by soldiers missing their own beloved kids, the love a soldier feels when adopting a stray kitten… John was proud of those ones. He’d taken work as a field surgeon so that when hearts ended his presence wouldn’t be questioned. All hearts had to leave with love.
John felt an ache in his injured shoulder, the bullet had fucked things up and the therapy for the arm still took the wind out of him. Worse still was his wing. The bullet had ripped through bone, muscle, and tendons but it shouldn’t have been able to shatter his wing. It shouldn’t have been able to touch it. The damage had mystified the MediCupids back home and the phrase “caring was not an advantage” had actually passed his own lips. He suppressed a shudder because those hurt him too… had he been too close, had he bonded too strongly, deeply with his team. John scowled at the pavement as he considered his lost men. He had been their Captain and their doctor he was supposed to be close to them. And James, James Sholto's disgrace and his complete withdrawal from the world and even from John had done it’s own damage but he shook off the depressing thoughts before they could spread. He had loved his CO, against good advice and almost against his will. But the damage was done and now he just had to deal with it.
Mike sat on the bench waiting for John, he rustled his immaterial wings, excited to introduce him to his next potential charge. He knew the BattleCupid had been injured and while Cupids didn’t fly, a wing out of commission was uncomfortable, Cupid wings weren’t for flight they were emotion. Wing beats could blow away foul moods, wings could delicately shiver up joy, and feathers could slowly stroke smoldering lust to Passion’s blaze. He explained all this ad-nauseam to his recruits when they found they couldn’t fly and would stir up a hysterical crowd trying. As each student knew, having made the choice, a soul could become a Cupid and help others for the span of one human life time but Only every three hundred years then it was back to the reincarnation pool. They would know all about their own kind only from the time of their arrival and would keep that knowledge just for the life cycle or the burden would grow too great. Poor John was not even half way through his service and his retirement looked likely. Hopefully this next post would lift his mood...
“It’s an interesting case John.” “I’m a BattleCupid Mike, just because I got shot doesn’t make me a baby sitter, how at war can one man be. It’ll be a few weeks of couple’s therapy and he will have her back, right as rain.” “John.” Mike said patiently for the third time. “He’s at war. His heart is at war with his mind and his body. His soul is shutting down John. He is trying desperately not to let himself feel, let alone be loved. He’s just out of rehab, uppers so his heart has physically been under strain and there’s been so much nonsense from his childhood.” Mike pursed his lips. “Mike how bad can it be?” John chuckled at the strained look, it didn’t suit the GuideCupid who was an endless fount of patience and of course Love. “He’s Mycroft Holmes’ brother.” John and Mike exchanged a look. Mycroft Holmes had waged a quiet campaign against Cupids in the government, claiming their emotional focus was illogical and ill suited to serious work. Very few people knew of Cupids as they blended in well but Love Save the man or woman who was caught out by Mycroft because they always lost credibility. “So, not a babysitter then?” “No John not a babysitter but there’s a heart that needs to be saved. Okay?”
It was the first 24 hours and John was reevaluating his mission. He’d seen Sherlock disregard people’s feelings and insult those who clearly cared about him, for Love's Sake the only person he seemed affectionate with was his landlady and no wonder, she was a Cupid too. Close to the end of her life cycle but John had felt her shake her wings in delight when Sherlock had brought him through the door and she’d offered him a cuppa Cupid to Cupid, just this once. Mycroft had also got hold of him but the man wasn’t as daunting as others claimed, not when you’ve lived in a war zone for half your life. He had stated his loyalty to his charge and his intentions to heal Sherlock’s heart before walking away from the pompous ass slowly sending drifts of peace behind him. He was unsure how effective his injured wing was but the confrontation had happened and at least that was over with.
Sherlock studied his new flatmate, clearly a Cupid like Mrs Hudson but was John on assignment or just looking for a place to stay. Sherlock’s mind coiled in on itself, he didn’t need fixing and Mrs Hudson had been the only one he had let help him, when he had just come back from rehab and had felt so overwhelmingly lonely. The heart support she had given him, the connection she had forged wrapping him in rarely manifested wings had hurt but he had been able to breath again after a few hours. She had loved him like a mother and the memory still made his eyes burn before he could shove it back down. John however just trotted about seeming quite content or was Sherlock the content one to have the army doctor beside him and always just one pace behind him when he raced through London. Sherlock suspected that John might be causing his contentment and he couldn’t figure out why it bothered him so much that John might be here on assignment, might not actually just be here for him. The state and position of John’s wings would tell him so he snuck off to his room for the sonar scanner he had doctored, it was all a question of frequencies and his field tests had been successful so far. The sonar’s pulse shifted the molecules in the wings from the invisible frequency of Feelings to the frequencies of visible light. There were at least seven other Cupids in the area apart from Mike Stamford and his Hudders. The scan seemed to have some noticeable affect on the subject but John was distracted by preparing supper, just a quick check.
John was enjoying meal prep, the Army had fed him for so long he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the process of simply preparing a meal. A wave of anticipation washed over his wings from the passage behind him before he gave a startled yelp of pain as his injured wing stung suddenly. John turned to see Sherlock staring at him in dismay, the bastard has forced his wings to manifest! The wrecked plumage of John’s injured left wing was suddenly on display! John was furious, tucking his wings quickly against his back he winced as the reflexive movement caused a sharp twinge. “That scan was inconclusive John, your injury made you move your wings before I could study their position.” John took a deep breath and reminded himself that Love was patient and kind so he avoided Sherlock’s nose and teeth when he punched him in the face, again flinching as muscles flexed across his back, bloody manifest wings, it hurt and slowed his healing too. So he watched Sherlock think his actions through as he faded his wings back to the frequencies of Feelings.
“I’m sorry John. The other subjects had shown no signs of pain but your injury clearly…” Sherlock trailed off as he began to feel, being socked in the face by a Cupid apparently carried more weight than just a fist. Some of John’s pain and embarrassment… no Shame, John was ashamed of this improbable injury and Sherlock felt it through the lingering energy of the blow. Sherlock watched white wings sag and fade as he processed what his flatemate had been feeling; contentment, joy, pleasure… John hadn’t cooked in a long time and was enjoying preparing their meal until Sherlock had hurt him with the sonar scanner and ruined it. Shame, Empathetic shame he realized burned Sherlock’s cheeks and ears. “I really am sorry John. I got a bit of your You, feelings in the punch… I just wanted to be sure if you were here because you wanted to or if this was just an assignment.”
John glared at the git he’d saddled himself with but it couldn’t last, Sherlock looked so sad and a little in shock. “Of course I’m here on assignment Sherlock but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here. I can choose you know and I chose this. How did you do that any way and needless to say if you ever do that again I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The two shared a shaky smile before Sherlock handed the unit over. It had been carefully calibrated to function in the frequencies of Feelings. There looked to be miles of complex wiring so he reached in delicately and pulled out a handful of it, once, twice before putting the unit down the table and turning to his stricken charge. “This exposes us, Cupids. Sherlock Mycroft knows about Cupids and I imagine he warned you of them?” Sherlock nodded still a bit dumbstruck by John’s actions. “Mycroft is known among us as being heavily prejudiced, he’s made quite a few people’s lives difficult and destroyed the careers of Cupids because he doesn’t think they can function in any responsible roles. He knows about me and I think the only reason I’m still here is because I stood up to him. He must be used to the GuideCupids and the novices at the hospital.” John gave a rueful grin but Sherlock’s face lit up.
“You stood up to my brother, he must have been irate or very impressed. Were you dropped off outside by Mycroft’s car?” “No, I left and caught a taxi.” “Impressed then, had you irritated him he would have had the driver drop you off at the door to keep an eye on you. Impressing him results in a bit of shock for my dear brother. Always knocks him off his busy bodying for a few minutes.” Sherlock was chagrined as he collected his destroyed device. “I know my brother’s opinions John I was always careful to test it on people walking alone.” “It’s an amazing feat of ingenuity Sherlock but it’s just not okay. Did you ever test it on Mrs Hudson?” Sherlock felt his gut clench. “John!” but he couldn’t quite find the words.
John breathed a sigh of relief at Sherlock’s appalled expression. Clearly he had more respect for the elderly lady than he did strangers and John opened his mouth to say something but just wasn’t sure what. They both stood with mouths full of teeth in the kitchen for an endless moment before Sherlock moved to sit down. John returned to making dinner and could feel the pressure of Sherlock’s anxiety but waited for him to talk. While he slowly added ingredients to the pot Sherlock explained his drug addiction, the rehab, and Mrs Hudson’s hours of heart 1st aid on his first night in Baker street. John nodded quietly, still stirring as Sherlock seemed determined to explain himself to the table top and not look at him. “I’m glad she was here, sorry I couldn’t be here sooner. She’s retired as I’m sure you already know. Retirees aren’t as strong as active Cupids but they provide guidance and form the Council. Our governing body” Sherlock nodded at the table again and John slid a bowl of soup into his line of sight.
“Is this a Cupid thing? Feeding me.” “Not really, this is more of an actual doctor thing. You’re underweight and the whole no food on cases idea baffles me to be honest. It’s pea soup, eat it.” “Before it eats me I suppose" The quizzical look John gave him told Sherlock that John was not exaggerating, he must have spent half his life in a war zone to not know Harry Potter but the soup was good and Sherlock had to acknowledge that he was more willing to eat John’s cooking than his own. His cooking was still Uni dorm room food but John cooked like he meant it… John cooked with love! Sherlock spooned down soup as he considered John’s damaged wing and Mrs Hudson’s retirement. He could ask the latter about the former. She was on this Council and John’s senior, who better to provide guidance in helping a her own. Feeling quite clever he scraped his bowl clean before showing the evidence of his finished meal to John and returning to the couch to plan his approach.
John grinned at Sherlock’s empty bowl, he had no idea how the ritual had started, maybe it was their endless focus on evidence and proofs but whenever Sherlock finished a meal John would be presented with his empty dish as if for an inspection. He was glad Sherlock seemed occupied as he needed to see to his wing, upstairs, in his room, far away from curious geniuses.
@mofftissfan @sarahthecoat @loveismyrevolution @riorothbates @underestimatemethatwillbefun @anotherwellkeptsecret @benaddictedandsherlocked @johnlockismyreligion @almosttomorocco @superwholocklmt @strangeps3lyricsmuffin @chinike @loves-to-read-fanfic @sillystring111 @ben-locked @jobooksncoffee @johnlockunicorn @chained-to-the-mirror @thinkanddoodle-batch @melmey-fanfics @the-persian-slipper @melsesowieso @morgendaemmerung89 @shiplocks-of-love @pri1982 @kitten-kin @221b-gone-feels
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richincolor · 6 years ago
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We’ve got a wide range of books out this week! Which ones are on your TBR pile?
Around Harvard Square by C.J. Farley Akashic Books / Black Sheep
It’s the nineties, and Tosh Livingston, straight-A student and superstar athlete, is living the dream—he’s made it out of upstate New York and into the incoming freshman class at Harvard University. But after an accident blows up his basketball-playing hopes, he discovers a new purpose in life—to win the frenzied competition for a spot on the staff of the Harvard Harpoon, the school’s legendary humor magazine.
Along with Lao, his pot-smoking roommate from China, their friend Meera, a passive-aggressive science major from India, and Zippa, a Jamaican student-activist with a flair for cartooning, Tosh finds that becoming a member of the Harpoon is weirder and more dangerous than anyone could have imagined. Success requires pushing themselves to their limits and unearthing long-buried secrets that will rock their school and change all of their lives forever.
With its whip-smart humor and fast-paced narrative, Around Harvard Square will appeal to readers of all ages interested in exploring the complicated roles that race and class play in higher education.
Mera: Tidebreaker by Danielle Paige DC Ink
Mera is teenage royalty, heir to the throne of Xebel, the other not-so-lost colony under the sea. But Mera is destined to wear a different crown, that of Atlantis. When the inhabitants of Xebel plot to overthrow their homeland of Atlantis, Mera is sent to kill the heir to the throne, Arthur Curry. As the unrest between their colonies grows, Mera and Arthur unexpectedly fall in love…will Arthur Curry be the king at Mera’s side in Atlantis, or will he die under her blade?
Mera by Danielle Paige is an astonishing story that explores themes of duty, love, heroism and freedom, all through the eyes of readers’ favorite undersea royalty.
Descendant of the Crane by Joan He Albert Whitman Company
Tyrants cut out hearts. Rulers sacrifice their own
Princess Hesina of Yan has always been eager to shirk the responsibilities of the crown, but when her beloved father is murdered, she’s thrust into power, suddenly the queen of an unstable kingdom. Determined to find her father’s killer, Hesina does something desperate: she engages the aid of a soothsayer—a treasonous act, punishable by death… because in Yan, magic was outlawed centuries ago.
Using the information illicitly provided by the sooth, and uncertain if she can trust even her family, Hesina turns to Akira—a brilliant and alluring investigator who’s also a convicted criminal with secrets of his own. With the future of her kingdom at stake, can Hesina find justice for her father? Or will the cost be too high?
In this shimmering Chinese-inspired fantasy, debut author Joan He introduces a determined and vulnerable young heroine struggling to do right in a world brimming with deception.
Forward Me Back to You by Mitali Perkins Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)
Katina King is the reigning teen jujitsu champion of Northern California, but she’s having trouble fighting off the secrets in her past.
Robin Thornton was adopted from an orphanage in Kolkata, India and is reluctant to take on his future. Since he knows nothing about his past, how is he supposed to figure out what comes next?
Robin and Kat meet in the most unlikely of places — a summer service trip to India to work with survivors of human trafficking. As bonds blossom between the travel-mates, Robin and Kat discover the healing superpowers of friendship.
At turns heart-wrenching, beautiful, and buoyant, Mitali Perkins’ new novel explores the ripple effects of violence — across borders and generations — and how small acts of heroism can break the cycle.
Defy Me (Shatter Me #5) by Tahereh Mafi HarperTeen
The gripping fifth installment in the New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestselling Shatter Me series. Will Juliette’s broken heart make her vulnerable to the strengthening darkness within her?
Juliette’s short tenure as the supreme commander of North America has been an utter disaster. When the children of the other world leaders show up on her doorstep, she wants nothing more than to turn to Warner for support and guidance. But he shatters her heart when he reveals that he’s been keeping secrets about her family and her identity from her—secrets that change everything.
Juliette is devastated, and the darkness that’s always dwelled within her threatens to consume her. An explosive encounter with unexpected visitors might be enough to push her over the edge.
Orange for the Sunsets by Tina Athaide Katherine Tegen Books
A soaring tale of empathy, hope, and resilience, Tina Athaide’s unforgettable middle grade debut follows two friends whose lives are transformed by Idi Amin’s decision to expel Indians from Uganda in 1972.
Twelve-year-old Asha and her best friend, Yesofu, never cared about the differences between them: Indian. African. Girl. Boy. Short. Tall. But when Ugandan President Idi Amin announces that Indians have ninety days to leave the country, suddenly those differences are the only things that people in Entebbe can see—not the shared after-school samosas or Asha cheering for Yesofu at every cricket game.
Determined for her life to stay the same, Asha clings to her world tighter than ever before. But Yesofu is torn, pulled between his friends, his family, and a promise that could bring his dreams of university within reach. Now, as neighbors leave and soldiers line the streets, the two friends find that nothing seems sure—not even their friendship. And with only days before the deadline, Asha and Yesofu must decide if the bravest thing of all might be to let each other go.
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siderealxmelody · 6 years ago
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The Archangels & Grief
@aprincess-and-herknight
@waywardlightbearer
@nptperfect-indadseyes
@thevictoryofthepeople
@charmed-redemption
@bloodandbulletholes
@deathmimedream
@truesymphony
@literatureandredstrings
In order of age:
Taharial
Vetril
Eyal
Michael
Megadriel
Lumiel
Raphael
Gabriel
Samael
Amitiel
Uzziel
Taharial was supposed to take care of his siblings when their parents died. But Michael feared he would lead them to ruin so took the mantle.
Vetril had an intense curiosity for things he shouldn't, shorty before his parents died he had ventured to Faerie to understand the inhabitants better. Instead they lead him to insanity, driving him mad with their games and music.
He still doesn't understand that his parents are gone. His children were cared for my Michael and Vetril's mate Lazai.
Eyal retreated into herself, the trauma and pain of it broke it all. She saw no hope in trying to change anything, what was the point? It would all end in fire and blood. She tried to busy herself with managing Heaven's Library.
Michael was only the equivalent of 16 when his parents died and he assumed responsibility for his siblings, and nephews. He had already taken care of Samyaza and Temeluchus, twins who had been found in the rubble of Marmaroth's riots. Oriel holding them as he died by his lovers hand. Marmaroth lay a few feet away, dead by his own sword.
Omniel could never bond with them as he would have wanted to. All he saw was a reminder of the reason his brother died. He took his anger at Meba, who had found the twins, who Oriel had loved and doted on as a sister.
Megadriel ran, she was overwhelmed by it all. The pain too much, she had no support and when she tried to come back Michael barred her. She hadn't been there when he had needed her so he wasn't going to help her when she needed him.
Lumiel tried to help as best as he could, but he had own children to look out for. Yes he and Fraciel were young. But his parents were gone, he didn't want to wait and loose time with them. He wanted to see them all grow and become the pieces of perfection he knew they were.
Raphael shut down, he kept his head down running his clinic and building his angelic forces. He tried not to think what world his children would come to. One where grief had nearly destoryed them.
Gabriel threw himself in his teachings and words, hoping to make the fledglings around him smile..maybe if he did it enough times he would remember how to do it too.
Samael fell into debauchery, he was disgusted with how his siblings were acting. He didn't hide his grief, he let himself wallow in it. Tried to make it an armor around himself.
Amitiel tried to help, she was only an equivalent of 10 but she was trying to play peacemaker. She didn't realize this strategy would only lead her to burn out and lose her hope in peace.
Asmodel worked to be as good as Michael. She wanted to be prepared, to be there for her siblings and nephews. She wanted to make sure that she would never leave them with grief.
Anafiel was floundering, she tried to help those less fortunate it. Eventually it would lead her take a place on the Seraphic Council, maybe her position could help someone, change things for anyone. She just wanted to put their lives back together.
Honorary Mentions:
Mebahiah
She had been taken in when she was a fledgling. Her twins Elehiah were given to Azazel's family to raise, they were cousins after all. Malik was given to his Destined's family. Ridwan was happy to have him with them.
The triplets hadn't known why their parents were gone, they were told they had defected to the Wild, giving their children to their families to raise. But that wasn't true. Shekinah had wanted to know what the Wilds were doing and set the mission up for their parents. A mission they wholeheartedly accepted.
The Triad were all Meba knew. They were her mother and fathers, and they were gone. She just wanted them back. To make the coldness that had infiltrated her home be gone. To make everyone be happy again. To make Omniel forgive her.
Temeluchus
His fathers were gone and Omniel and Oertha would not even acknowledge him. Though Oertha would always give him a toy whenever she saw him, though it would not erase the pain of being unloved.
He threw himself into fighting, he would be good, he would better - the best. He would make sure Michael would not loose, that he would be protected at all costs. No matter what.
Samyaza
He had always been a shy kid, one who was sensitive and observant. He knew acutely what he had and others didn't. He wanted to do right by them, to make sure everyone know he would earn his place here.
He was the only one who wished to know his parents, to hear stories of them, how they fell in love...and died. Though he remembered that. Yelling, blades, blood, and silence. He swore to himself that he would never do that to his own children. That they would not grow up without him.
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imaginetonyandbucky · 7 years ago
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All I Need is the Air
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In the end, it was not merely Tony’s call to war that brought everyone to the battle, but that Hydra came, seeking revenge for the one closed mine, and perhaps, something more. The raiders had not only killed the nagas in the mines, but they’d taken slaves, freed them, and that seemed to rouse Hydra’s fury like no other.
How dare… seemed to be the general tenor of their war proclamations.
They hauled machines of war and destruction, not just the rock flingers, but great giant tree-cutters and spear throwers and a sort of flaming tree sap that burned hot and stuck to trees or to people without concern.
They came with troops and weapons.
Hundreds of them, armed to the teeth, wearing strangely-fitted hoods of metal that protected their vulnerable eyes and hearts, that made their very bodies into weapons with sharp spines that stuck out along the crest of their heads and down their backs.
They came with hate in their eyes.
And they came with Pierce, the head of Hydra.
Not a naga, this one, but a full sized, obscene multi-headed monster. Three long, scaley necks ascended from Pierce’s chest, each supported a head with a grotesque, overly long tongue that poked out between venom dripping fangs. Pierce was enormous, easily on par with Bruce; eighteen feet tall, and arms that could reach and grab and throw; snatching the avians from the air and smashing them into trees.
The battle raged, and Bucky only heard about it from time to time when flitters would come back to the village to fetch new bundles of arrows, to bring in the wounded when they could. Bucky couldn’t fly well enough to fight, but he knew a lot about carrying heavy loads. He brought supplies as needed to the landing flets, hauled the wounded down the great spirals to the healers’ nests.
When he heard that Pierce had joined with the clan of naga that had taken him as a sort of mascot-cum-deity, Bucky scowled.
“Tell them not to severe the necks,” he said, thrusting a leather bundle of spears at one of the flitters. “He’ll just grow two more heads.”
“Now you tell us,” the flitter’s scathing retort was stupidly painful, because who the hell would think to ask Bucky for an opinion, and how was he supposed to know it was required, but Bucky felt terribly guilty for having not somehow been able to transfer that information by the time it did any good.
He didn’t even get out the suggestion before the flitter was gone again. Fire, he thought, and he wondered if Tony was on the front line, if he was fighting.
If he was dead…
(more below the cut)
Bucky rubbed his shoulder. The gauntlet would do it, he thought. It would give Tony the advantage, enough to defeat Pierce, and no matter what, with Pierce gone, it was likely that the Hydra would break and run. They were fierce warriors, but they were also easily scared into hiding. They’d regroup and come at the avians again, but that would be later. More time to prepare.
He returned to Steve and Sam’s nest, where their co-mate, Natasha, was guarding the eggs.
She’d tried once already to persuade him that Bucky should guard the nest. He couldn’t fly well and she could; it was better for one to join the battle than none.
Bucky, on the other wing, couldn’t face the idea of telling Steve later that he’d let Natasha go into danger. Let Steve take the earful of her rage later; it wasn’t Bucky’s place to mother-hen a mate.
Not that mate, leastways, because if he could have sat on Tony and kept Tony from risk, he might well have done that. It didn’t even matter that Tony didn’t want him, didn’t want him to. If anything happened to Tony, it would never matter if Bucky could fly again. The part of him that needed air all around him, sky above… that part would die and even if he rode the winds again, he’d forever be grounded.
The fighting drew closer to the village; Bucky climbed up one of the treetops, until the topmost branches to see what was going on. The view was terrible; the dead and the dying littered the forest floor. Trees were ripped out by the roots, destroyed as the war party moved closer and closer to the avian’s home.
There were chicks and fledglings, flightless or slow, weak and terrified, among the nests.
Bucky spotted Tony, darting among the troops, fighting with spears and nets.
No flashes of fire emanated from his hands. No golden and red metal.
Climbing down, Bucky handed off the spying glass to a flitter who was catching her breath. Sharon’s dove-white wings were soiled with ash and blood. “We’re all going to die,” she informed Bucky, seeming to not even notice who she was talking to.
“No, we won’t,” Bucky told her, and that decided him. Seeing Sharon so defeated, so despairing, Bucky had to act. He stretched out his exhausted wings, checked the straps. He might never fly again after this adventure, but it didn’t matter. He’d get what Tony needed; they could drive off Hydra together.
He took a few running steps and launched himself off the flet, in the direction of Tony’s forge.
They were going to die.
Tony had assessed the battlefield within a few moments of the joining of troops.
They were going to die, but they were going to make Hydra fight for every inch, they were going to make the cost as bloody and dear as they could, and it wasn’t going to be enough. But maybe, maybe, they could win through attrition. Posthumously, which would not be very good for the avians, or for the Pyms and the few others who joined them, but it might keep Hydra from taking over everything outside the mountain ranges and forests where their enemies once had lived.
Pierce was the wild card; when that monster appeared on the battlefield, the tide had turned. Destroying the nagas’ siege engines was dangerous, but simple. The cost to effort ratio was pretty damn good.
But when the Hydra had shown up, everything went to hell in a handbasket.
They’d learned not to attack him; he just kept getting stronger with each attack. There was no way to penetrate the armor he wore that protected his heart, and after several tries, the revolting monster was sporting at least a half-dozen extra heads; like a bundle of snakes poking out of the top of its broad chest. Tony had never seen anything like it.
He fervently hoped for the sake of the world that there were relatively few Hydra in existence. Some of the more powerful magical creatures had trouble mating, producing offspring; they were few in number and they couldn’t reproduce fast enough to keep up their population.
“Be good for him to go extinct,” Tony muttered, readying another set of ropes and nets. “World could use less of him, the creepy thing.” The best they could do was delay and bind the monster. Trip him, keep him tied down.
It didn’t work for long; Pierce was even stronger than he should have been and simple rope braids were like spiderwebs to his powerful arms.
Tony was so busy getting his nets straight that he missed that Pierce had closed the distance again. The enormous monster covered the entire area in his shadow like an omen of doom, the sort of eclipse of hope that terrorized children, forspoken in prophecy. All sorts of nasty unpleasant things, really, and Tony resented it.
He resented that Pierce was going to kill him
That he was never going to see Bucky again, even if Bucky didn’t want to see him. Even if Bucky never loved him. Tony would have wanted to see him, one more time.
Pierce raised one massive arm and snatched Tony out of the sky; the nets and ropes dropped uselessly to the ground.
Hitting the ground was horrifically painful. Tony sprawled there in the dirt, unable to breathe. Unable to do anything except stare as Pierce closed on him, hands grasping. Tony already knew how he was going to die; Pierce was taking great, obscene pleasure, in ripping the avians apart, left them bloody and screaming on the battlefield.
And then, as if some fairy from legend had granted a wish, Tony couldn’t see Pierce anymore. He could only see Bucky.
Bucky’s brilliant, glorious face filled his field of vision.
“Tony?”
“You’re here,” Tony said, reaching up to touch Bucky’s cheek. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“I got you, honey,” Bucky told him, and there were warm, gentle arms around him, pulling Tony upright.
Why did everything still hurt so much? That wasn’t fair. Tony thought it might stop hurting once he’d died, and if Bucky was there, than Tony was dead, and probably Bucky was too, and that was kinda sad, but Tony could deal with it, if he could just…
“I got you first,” he told Bucky seriously.
“Yeah, I know,” Bucky said. “Here, plug yourself in.” He yanked at a wire, pulled at Tony’s leather armor chest coverings.
“What, what are you--”
“You have to cauterize the wound,” Bucky told him. “It’s the only way to kill him. Cut the head off and sear it. I need your help.”
Oh. Boo. He wasn’t dead, and Bucky wasn’t here to guide Tony onto the next shell. They were still at war and Bucky was only holding him because Tony was useful.
Oh, stop crying and be useful. Howard Stark’s voice had never sounded so disgusted as it did when he was inside Tony’s head and he couldn’t ignore it. Especially when Howard was right.
Tony followed the cabling down until he could yank on the gauntlets that Bucky had--
“How did you get these?” He’d left the gauntlets in his workshop, a good hour’s flight from the village, and Bucky had never been back.
“Flew some it of, ran the rest,” Bucky said. “Tore the old wing up when I crashed. I’m sorry, Tony, but I-- I took the new kit. I don’t know if you meant it for me, but I needed to get to you--”
“Of course I meant it for you, honey,” Tony told him. “Who else should ever have my masterwork?”
Bucky was still attaching the gauntlets, reaching under Tony’s chest covering to screw the leads into their ports, when Pierce reached them.
The shadow of the beast crossed over them, turning the air inexplicably colder in just seconds. Pierce was huge, ridiculous. There should be laws of nature that prevented something that big from moving that fast, or that quietly. He was also disturbing, Tony had to admit. The numerous faces, all handsome and smiling, then yawning extra wide, with jaws like a snake that showed off rows upon rows of needle teeth. Ug. Tony was going to die like this? It seemed so unfair.
Bucky shoved Tony aside, getting him out of the direct path of danger. He drew a pair of blades from his belt and launched himself up, the steely, artificial wing flashing in the few beams of sunlight that trickled into the trees. He looked like an angel, like a falling star, like…
Like he was in trouble! Cyclone, Stark, think. He took cover behind a large boulder, heard the hum of the arc-reactor as he charged the gauntlet’s weapon. “Bucky, watch out!”
Bucky spared Tony a momentary glance, but that brief look was intense enough to shock Tony with the avians’s bravery and determination. Nothing like the ex-slave, broken and battered, remained. Only a warrior. Bucky looped, flying in a circle around one head. “Get ready!”
Bucky practically glowed, his wing lined with sun, radiating confidence, strength. He swung his blades at the slender neck -- Pierce had grown so many heads he was like looking at some disgusting tentacled monster, upside down.
Tony wasn’t ready; he was terrified, and Bucky was so close, thunder, all it would take was one wrong move, one inch in the wrong direction, and he’d hit Bucky with the blow. If I hurt him, I might as well rip my own heart out.
Bucky darted in, blades drenched in gore in moments, and one of the heads came away from Pierce’s body.
Tony sprinted to get closer. Pierce growled and Bucky kiyaared back in defiance. Tony didn’t dare stop, didn’t dare look, to see if Bucky was winning. He dropped to one knee, braced his arm, extended, palm out.
The explosion from the gauntlet was incredible, incandescent. It lit the area with fire, the bolt of energy rocketed toward the hydra, and sizzled across the bloody stump. The blackened flesh smoldered… hissed… and nothing grew back from the cauterized wound.
They could win.
They could actually win.
Bucky didn’t stop, calling others to him to fight, to chop and destroy. Tony had to dodge a few more decapitated heads (were they decapitated, or debodificated?) laying on the ground like fallen trees. He found a ride of high ground and dove onto it, using the earth for cover and advantage in one.
The bodies of his fellows -- his flock -- littered the ground and Tony burned with rage. Lit from within by a need for justice, for vengeance. To protect and defend, and all these Hydra snakes were going to die.
Tony used the gauntlet’s weapon to thin the ranks of serpents, waiting until another shot lined up with Pierce. Tony’s best bet was to pick off the ones that weren’t too close to the other avians, or risk hitting them.
One, two, three, heads fell off the scaly, massive trunk of Pierce, and Tony cauterized two. Someone else was fighting with buckets of boiling tree sap. The smell was horrific, the battlefield was soaked in black smoke and wretched screams.
Tony was shaking like crazy, it wasn’t like target practice in his lab. When he fired, things died, and even if they were the enemy, he was twisted inside with dismay, remorse. He was aiming for flesh and blood and while it was icky flesh and blood, it still gave him pause.
Tony focused on the brilliant fluttering speck that was Bucky. They were going to live through this, that was going to happen. Focusing on that thought, on that promise to himself, and Tony’s hands steadied. His breathing evened out. He could do this. He would do this.
Pierce was down to one head when he sounded the retreat. Covering that one remaining appendage with both arms, the massive creature whirled and thundered away; they might not have killed it, but there were too many wounded, too many dead. There was no fight left in them, no spark, and they just let him go, hoping that its many wounds would take it out, that it would suffer and die somewhere far away.
Bucky swirled one last time in the sky and plummeted down, landing neatly in front of Tony, talons digging into the ruined soil beneath them. “Oh, skies, Tony, you’re alive,” Bucky said, touching him everywhere, checking for wounds, pulling him in close and then patting him down again. Finally, Bucky seemed to realize what he was doing, and he took a hesitant step back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, I…”
Storms, Tony was only going to have one chance before Bucky went back to the flets and forgot about Tony. He threw caution to the wind, slid his hand around the back of Bucky’s neck and drew him in to a fierce kiss.
Tony didn’t know the words, he was never good at talking about feelings, or singing, or any of those things that avians were supposed to be good at. So he’d have to say with a kiss everything he wanted and needed.
Bucky was gasping for air by the time Tony pulled back, but he didn’t thrust Tony away or slap him or any of the things Tony was expecting. He just stood there, forehead resting against Tony’s. Wings arched up and mantled around them, holding them silent and private in a tiny shell of feathers. His eyes were wide and round and shining.
“I thought you didn’t want me to court you,” Bucky said, voice quavering.
“You’re promised to the Captain,” Tony reminded him, heart aching. It was the only kiss he’d get, he knew that, one joy in a moment of triumph could be excused, and--
“What?” Bucky did draw back at that, just enough to search Tony’s face. “What? No, no, Tony… Steve and I promised… it’s stupid, a child’s promise. And he already broke it, but he thought I was dead. We… we weren’t supposed to mate without the other’s approval. And after what you did, even my hidebound and traditional best friend? Will approve of you. And if he doesn’t? I don’t give a single raindrop. All I need is you.”
Tony’s mouth spread in a helpless, happy smile. “Well, and the air.”
“And you,” Bucky said again, emphasizing it. He kissed Tony again, more enthusiastically, and again, until the whole world vanished in a haze of sensation.
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Car Insurance for Teens?
"Car Insurance for Teens?
What can we expect for a 16 year old to pay on a monthly base if he has his OWN insurance (as in not co-insured with the parents). This would be in Texas.    I am pretty sure that there is a great difference. Just trying to familarize myself with the whole deal and trying to figure a ballpark amount. Any tips you might have are very much welcome. Thanks!!!
BEST ANSWER:  Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://freecarinsurance.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr 
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I'm looking into buying a honda CRF 230 that has headlights, breaklights etc.. everything it needs to be road legal. I'm wanting it because I ride alot of trails that you need to get on the road for so long to get on the next trail and I'd figure id license it so I dont have to worry about outrunning the cops but if the insurance would be high, I'd just forget it so whats the cheapest you can get insurance for that and by the way I'm 19 and have my motorcycle permit.""
What is the best dental insurance I can buy?
What is the best dental insurance I can buy?
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Hi, a group of my friends and I, five of us, are travelling to Germany and are looking for a place that would insure us, we are all 16 years old. Thanks :)""
How much would car insurance be for a used 2012 Dodge Charger SXT?
I am an 18 year old male with no accidents or tickets and my parents and i are looking to get a new car for me. (well not new but new to me) So i was just wondering what might be the ...show more
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What can we expect for a 16 year old to pay on a monthly base if he has his OWN insurance (as in not co-insured with the parents). This would be in Texas.    I am pretty sure that there is a great difference. Just trying to familarize myself with the whole deal and trying to figure a ballpark amount. Any tips you might have are very much welcome. Thanks!!!
Does it cost more money to ad your spouse with your car insurance?
My wife keeps asking for my car. But I dont feel comfortable giving it to her becuase her name's not under my car insurance. How does it work if i want to ad her on? Do the insurance company charge you more money or is it still the same? If they do charge more money, do you know any insurance that's reasonable price? thank you""
Will a honda accord coupe have higher insurance than a sedan. (for a 16 year old)?
for my first car i am debating a mazda 3, a toyota camary or a handa accord coupe (2 door). how much higher is insurance on a honda accord coupe than a 4 door for a 16 year old driver. will it be rediculous. Also, my parents have a 7k spending limit and i have found some with under 100k mies. how long will they last if i treat it right?""
Anyone know a cheap Health Insurance Cover for myself?
Im single, 27 years old and living in Victoria/Melbourne""
What is the cheapest car insurance in michigan?
I am looking for cheap car insurance I live in battle creek mi. I am 22 years old and on ssi. I have autism diagnosis. And I want to be able to get a car I do not have a license right now. But can get one social worker told me that. I would be allowed to drive. I do not own a car right now. But I have $2000 save up for a car. Before I take anymore steps I need to find out if i can afford insurance. I have about $30-$45 to spend a month on insurance for a car. That cost about $2000 I only need the bare minimum that will allow me to drive with a license legally. Dose anyone know where in i can get cheap car insurance? Any help would be greatly appreciated.Thanks
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I just bought a car and i don't want to pay huge car insurance. Anybody care to help me out may be a recommendation of place i can get it a little bit cheap
Can You Give Me Any Tips for Finding Low Cost California Medical Insurance?
Can You Give Me Any Tips for Finding Low Cost California Medical Insurance?
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i'm paying 150 a month for a 94 ford thunderbird, but i'm looking for something cheaper that i can afford. i'm just wondering how much other people pay for cars like mine...""
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My insurance guy gave me below basic coverage on a lease which requires something like 100,000/300,000/100,000 but he did basic full coverage(something cheaper like 10/20/10) In the contract it states i must have 100/300/100 as the requirement but the insurance guy who does insurance for a lot of people says lower coverage should work. I just added it on and it's fine, so the insurance (progressive) sent me a letter saying I have to pay extra for adding a 3rd vehicle but nothing about the coverage amount. Will they later require I add more coverage? I don't see why I need 300k on a car that costs only 40 grand. people drive around with PIP 10/20/10 and that's good enough for the state. I have an excellent driving record with 0 accidents and have been driving for about 10 years. I realize I have ****ty insurance but insurance is a huge rip off so I want to spend as little as possible and deal with accidents out of my own pocket.""
Where can a Construction company get a cheap insurance and bond?
Hello, I just started a small family construction company ( tile ) and would like to know where you can get a cheap bond from. Our company is in Seattle Washington. Can someone please help me with this. It would be great if it can be as cheap as it gets. we are on a budget. Thanks in advance""
Insurance california?
hi I'm an international student who goes to college in Iowa. I have a college insurance and I guess it convers most of meetings with doctors. Now, I'm taking 3 months-summer session at University of California. I think I 've heard some stuff that I need to have Californian insurance to stay here. What is this? Is it wrong? Plus, my wisdom teeth is coming out recently. It starts to hurt. Does insurance in America covers dental work?""
Can i cancel my car insurance immediately? cancel same day and not pay for the following month?
The reason is i sold the car and the insurance guy said the car is still in the system (1st of the month), so i would have to pay still. he said if i canceled on the 15th it could have been canceled sooner and i wouldn't have to pay. i just think it's odd since i don't even have the car anymore. not sure if this makes sense? thanks""
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If so, could you recommend a cheaper one that you may have?""
How much will my auto insurance cost?
Ok...so I'm looking at an old 73' Bug to possibly buy for college and all. Cost- of the car at least- is not a problem, as its $100, and I have $100. (Yes, it does have issues and looks horrible, but hey it runs and drives). So...that brings up insurance. There is NO way I can get in on my mom's insurance- she won't let me get a car so the only way is if I do all myself, and I'm 18 now and going to college in a few weeks, so a=Im looking at my options. I know as a male teenage driver its going to be high, but what is high? How much will good grades and all that help? Just, what would you recommend and how much could it end up costing? Thanks...""
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without insurance, how much does clomid and metformin cost? where can I get it?""
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???????????????????
Im 20 years old. Just wondering when i should buy life insurance?
Im 20 years old. Just wondering when i should buy life insurance. ? I have a bf live at home with my parents. I have a car loan out for 18,000. Have a full time job. Just wondering if its better to purchase when your younger. My bf and I have been together for 6 years.""
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Since the affordable health act will most likely go through, could I get a subsidized insurance when I retire at 60? I will have about 2 million dollars in mostly non-taxed retirement accounts, and some in taxed accounts. If I only have say $35,000 in taxable income when I retire, am I still eligible for the subsidized health insurance as it's determined by taxable income I believe and not how much a person have in retirement accounts?""
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Im getting my own can insurance when i turn 18 in about a month, my parents are kicking me off there's i have had 3 tickets and i drive a 1998 toyota camry...""
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Im getting a car in a few weeks ( sitron caxo forte) its for free of my girlfriends grandad. I need to know what else its going cost me though, because all the car insurance websites make me fill out to much information and I don't even have the car yet.. I will be 17 in a few weeks and it will be just me driving the car.""
Pay As You Go Insurance! Where can I get it? Cheap Insurance!
Hey people Basicly im insured with Admiral under third party fire and theft. Im doing their 10 month insurance thing which equates to 1 years insurance after the time. I was insured with them last year the price was 1090, this year its gone up to 1250 (had an accident which was my fault). Im paying monthly which has increased it to 1550. Im paying about 150 a month. My question is, where can i get cheap insurance from? Preferbably Pay as You go type. Has anyone done PAYG insurance before?""
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I plan on getting a 2010 Dodge Challenger R/T Classic and was wondering about how much would full coverage be in Northern Virginia,I would ask the insurance company but I'm not the one with the policy and if you're wondering what insurance we have its Farmers.""
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I'm looking at buying insurance for a 6 month period, but 2 months into the period there will be a change that causes a significant price drop (3 points removed from my license and my birthday). Will they generally allow me to have my rate adjusted mid-policy? I'm talking of a price difference of about 100 a month, so I really want to see how I can make this work.""
Car Insurance for Teens?
What can we expect for a 16 year old to pay on a monthly base if he has his OWN insurance (as in not co-insured with the parents). This would be in Texas.    I am pretty sure that there is a great difference. Just trying to familarize myself with the whole deal and trying to figure a ballpark amount. Any tips you might have are very much welcome. Thanks!!!
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/new-insurance-group-rating-carter-pennington/"
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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years ago
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Kamala Harris Brings Food Justice to the Democratic Ticket
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Drew Angerer/Getty Images
As vice president, experts say Harris would be able to advance her years-long focus on hunger, worker protections, and environmental justice
This story was originally published on Civil Eats.
Just four days before Senator Kamala Harris became the first woman of color chosen as the running mate of a major U.S. political party’s (presumptive) presidential nominee, she co-authored an op-ed in CNN calling on grocery store chains to reinstate “hazard pay.”
“While top grocery chains rake in billions in profits during this pandemic, these frontline workers cannot choose to work from home like the corporate executives of these companies do,” Harris wrote with Marc Perrone, president of the United Food and Commercial Workers International Union (UFCW). “The responsibility to properly protect and support store workers lies with these executives, who must make the decision to consistently pay workers a wage that justly compensates them for the clear and present dangers of their jobs during the pandemic.”
Harris’s decision to stand up for grocery store workers months after news crews had left supermarkets, and shoppers had stopped panic-buying, isn’t surprising to those familiar with her record in the food, water, and agriculture sectors.
“It is absolutely unconscionable that many farmworkers... do not receive overtime pay for the hard work they do.”
“Short of having somebody who has actually worked in the food system or has experienced hunger themselves, she’s about as good as they get on food and hunger,” Jessica Bartholow, a policy advocate for the nonpartisan Western Center on Law & Poverty, told Civil Eats.
A native of California, the country’s largest agricultural state, Harris has sponsored legislation to improve working conditions for farmworkers, expand food and water access, and protect the environment. Her advocacy landed her the coveted endorsement of the United Farm Workers (UFW) before she suspended her 2020 presidential campaign in December. And when Joe Biden named her as his vice president pick on August 11, leaders of numerous farm and grocery workers unions and of food and environmental groups celebrated the news.
In a statement from the UFW, President Teresa Romero pointed to Harris’s long history of working directly with the organization, including participating in farmworker marches and the 2016 UFW convention.
“She led the fight for equal treatment and protection of America’s farmworkers as a U.S. senator by authoring the current federal bill providing overtime pay after eight hours a day for agricultural workers,” Romero said. “As California’s attorney general she lobbied the governor to sign California’s landmark law in 2016 providing phased-in overtime and to strengthen state rules preventing worker deaths and illnesses from extreme heat.”
Labor, food, and environmental activists now see an opportunity to increase farmworker pay, fund food assistance programs, and strengthen climate protections.
During her presidential campaign last year, Harris also marched with McDonald’s workers in Las Vegas demanding $15 hourly pay, noting that she “did the French fries and the ice cream” while working at the food chain in her youth.
Her support of workers all along the food chain has run parallel to her efforts to ensure that vulnerable Americans have access to food and water during the pandemic.
With Harris and Biden on the Democratic ticket, labor, food, and environmental activists see an opportunity to undo the Trump administration’s plans to lower farmworker pay, cut food assistance programs, and roll back climate protections. Should Biden win the election, they say that Harris’s presence could lead to significant policy shifts from the White House.
Fairness for farmworkers
Senator Harris has several times introduced legislation to provide overtime pay for farmworkers. The 2019 version of Fairness for Farm Workers Act would give overtime pay to those who work more than 40 hours a week in the field. It also ends exemptions to employers in industries such as small-scale farming, sugar processing, and cotton ginning from overtime pay requirements.
“It is absolutely unconscionable that many farmworkers — people who often work over 12 hours a day in the hot sun — do not receive overtime pay for the hard work they do to put food on the tables of American families,” Harris said when reintroducing the act last year.
The bill currently sits in committee, but even if it’s not passed, it raises awareness about the working conditions of farmworkers, more than 2 million of whom don’t receive employment protections while earning wages of between $15,000 to $17,499 on average annually. Harris’s bill also points to the fact that, every day, 100 farmworkers suffer job-related injuries that put them at risk of missing work.
In a similar vein, Harris cosponsored the Agricultural Worker Program Act of 2019 (now in the Committee on the Judiciary) to give “blue card” status to farm workers who have done agricultural labor for at least 100 days over the past two years, giving them a legal right to work in the U.S., and provide a path to a green card. An estimated 60 percent of California’s farmworkers are undocumented, and they are not spared from the Trump administration’s immigration enforcement guidelines. And even those authorized to be in the country on H-2A visas face the possibility that Trump will cut their wages.
Since Harris doesn’t sit on the agriculture committee, her advocacy for farmworkers is all the more noteworthy, Jessica Bartholow asserts. “I think that’s unique about her as a senator. There are some members — Representatives Jimmy Gomez and Ilhan Omar come to mind — who will step out and say, ‘I know I’m not on the committee, but nobody’s introducing this legislation, and my community says it’s important.’ They’re rare, and Kamala Harris is one of them. She pushes envelopes when she sees an injustice.”
Tumblr media
Ben Hasty/MediaNews Group/Reading Eagle via Getty Images
Volunteers wait with bags of food to distribute in Pennsylvania
Fighting food insecurity
Harris’s senatorial record indicates that, for her, food justice isn’t just about improving pay and protections for workers. It also involves combating food insecurity, particularly amidst the pandemic.
In May, Harris introduced both the Closing the Meal Gap Act of 2020 and the bipartisan FEMA Empowering Essential Deliveries (FEED) Act. The former bill expands Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) benefits for Americans in need during the pandemic. And the latter bill allows the federal government to pay all costs necessary to allow states and localities to partner with restaurants and nonprofits to prepare nutritious meals for vulnerable people, such as low-income children and seniors.
“Right now, SNAP benefits equal about $1.35 per meal, not nearly enough for anyone to buy a nutritious meal,” said Joel Berg, CEO of Hunger Free America, a nonpartisan anti-hunger advocacy group. “And that’s why a lot of SNAP benefits that are supposed to last a month last two or three weeks. This would be a fairly hefty expansion of the safety net but a much needed one, especially since healthier foods often cost more than less healthy foods.”
Berg described Harris as one of the anti-hunger movement’s “great champions in the Senate.” Because he views food insecurity as closely linked to poverty, he cited Harris’s support of a $15 national minimum wage as deeply relevant to the anti-hunger movement. The same can be said for her support of farmworkers, he argued.
“I think anyone who cares about hunger realizes that among the hungriest people in America are those who grow and pick our food,” Berg said. “No one in America should go hungry, but the fact that the people who are feeding us are is shameful.”
Harris has also addressed food insecurity among college students during the pandemic, requesting that the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) allow them continued access to SNAP benefits if the COVID-19 crisis has left them jobless. She signed onto a letter to Agriculture Secretary Sonny Perdue that described the food insecurity that existed among college students before the pandemic hit.
In fact, in July 2019, Harris introduced the Basic Assistance for Students in College Act to ensure that students receiving Pell Grants, attending community colleges, or minority-serving institutions could afford necessities such as food. More than 30 percent of college students may face food insecurity, according to the Government Accountability Office, and the problem disproportionately affects students at historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) and those living in areas without access to grocery stores or restaurants.
At the intersection of racial and environmental justice
Harris, a cosponsor of the Green New Deal, is also known as an environmental justice advocate. On July 30, she joined Senators Cory Booker (D-New Jersey) and Tammy Duckworth (D-Illinois), in introducing the Environmental Justice for All Act, aimed at achieving health equity and climate justice for all, but particularly communities of color. Among other measures, it would require that cumulative impacts of more than one potentially toxic substance be considered in permitting decisions under the Clean Water Act and Clean Air Act and establish programs to ensure more equitable access to parks and the outdoors.
“Confronting generations of systemic racism to achieve true justice will require us to recognize the role environmental racism has played and redress that by investing in long-term, sustainable environmental justice solutions to center and empower communities that have for far too long been excluded,” Harris said when the legislation was announced.
In July alone, Harris also introduced bills to protect consumers from utility shut-offs and to ensure the nation’s water supply is safe and sustainable, drawing on her Water Justice Act of 2019. This year, she also pushed for a comprehensive investment in keeping water affordable in the next coronavirus relief package.
“Keeping water service flowing during a pandemic is essential for keeping families safe,” Mary Grant, Food & Water Watch’s Public Water for All campaign director, told Civil Eats. “In recent years, [Harris] has introduced water legislation that emphasized racial and economic justice and that would provide the billions of dollars in federal funding that will be necessary to provide safe, affordable drinking water for all.”
The Senator’s 2020 presidential campaign slogan was “Kamala Harris for the people,” and Hunger Free America’s Berg sees that mentality as key to serving in the White House in the coming years.
“It’s critical to make sure that people in those positions are competent, have progressive values, [are] honest, and put the public first,” he said.
The Western Center on Law & Poverty’s Bartholow added that the anti-hunger community would be relieved not to have to spend time fighting an administration that passes policies that make food inaccessible to large swathes of Americans.
The new administration can choose its own path, Bartholow said. “And I can’t imagine a scenario in which an administration that includes Kamala Harris would support the lawless rulemaking that’s taking place now.”
• Kamala Harris Brings Food Justice to the Democratic Ticket [Civil Eats]
from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3gitvZe https://ift.tt/32cBnqa
Tumblr media
Drew Angerer/Getty Images
As vice president, experts say Harris would be able to advance her years-long focus on hunger, worker protections, and environmental justice
This story was originally published on Civil Eats.
Just four days before Senator Kamala Harris became the first woman of color chosen as the running mate of a major U.S. political party’s (presumptive) presidential nominee, she co-authored an op-ed in CNN calling on grocery store chains to reinstate “hazard pay.”
“While top grocery chains rake in billions in profits during this pandemic, these frontline workers cannot choose to work from home like the corporate executives of these companies do,” Harris wrote with Marc Perrone, president of the United Food and Commercial Workers International Union (UFCW). “The responsibility to properly protect and support store workers lies with these executives, who must make the decision to consistently pay workers a wage that justly compensates them for the clear and present dangers of their jobs during the pandemic.”
Harris’s decision to stand up for grocery store workers months after news crews had left supermarkets, and shoppers had stopped panic-buying, isn’t surprising to those familiar with her record in the food, water, and agriculture sectors.
“It is absolutely unconscionable that many farmworkers... do not receive overtime pay for the hard work they do.”
“Short of having somebody who has actually worked in the food system or has experienced hunger themselves, she’s about as good as they get on food and hunger,” Jessica Bartholow, a policy advocate for the nonpartisan Western Center on Law & Poverty, told Civil Eats.
A native of California, the country’s largest agricultural state, Harris has sponsored legislation to improve working conditions for farmworkers, expand food and water access, and protect the environment. Her advocacy landed her the coveted endorsement of the United Farm Workers (UFW) before she suspended her 2020 presidential campaign in December. And when Joe Biden named her as his vice president pick on August 11, leaders of numerous farm and grocery workers unions and of food and environmental groups celebrated the news.
In a statement from the UFW, President Teresa Romero pointed to Harris’s long history of working directly with the organization, including participating in farmworker marches and the 2016 UFW convention.
“She led the fight for equal treatment and protection of America’s farmworkers as a U.S. senator by authoring the current federal bill providing overtime pay after eight hours a day for agricultural workers,” Romero said. “As California’s attorney general she lobbied the governor to sign California’s landmark law in 2016 providing phased-in overtime and to strengthen state rules preventing worker deaths and illnesses from extreme heat.”
Labor, food, and environmental activists now see an opportunity to increase farmworker pay, fund food assistance programs, and strengthen climate protections.
During her presidential campaign last year, Harris also marched with McDonald’s workers in Las Vegas demanding $15 hourly pay, noting that she “did the French fries and the ice cream” while working at the food chain in her youth.
Her support of workers all along the food chain has run parallel to her efforts to ensure that vulnerable Americans have access to food and water during the pandemic.
With Harris and Biden on the Democratic ticket, labor, food, and environmental activists see an opportunity to undo the Trump administration’s plans to lower farmworker pay, cut food assistance programs, and roll back climate protections. Should Biden win the election, they say that Harris’s presence could lead to significant policy shifts from the White House.
Fairness for farmworkers
Senator Harris has several times introduced legislation to provide overtime pay for farmworkers. The 2019 version of Fairness for Farm Workers Act would give overtime pay to those who work more than 40 hours a week in the field. It also ends exemptions to employers in industries such as small-scale farming, sugar processing, and cotton ginning from overtime pay requirements.
“It is absolutely unconscionable that many farmworkers — people who often work over 12 hours a day in the hot sun — do not receive overtime pay for the hard work they do to put food on the tables of American families,” Harris said when reintroducing the act last year.
The bill currently sits in committee, but even if it’s not passed, it raises awareness about the working conditions of farmworkers, more than 2 million of whom don’t receive employment protections while earning wages of between $15,000 to $17,499 on average annually. Harris’s bill also points to the fact that, every day, 100 farmworkers suffer job-related injuries that put them at risk of missing work.
In a similar vein, Harris cosponsored the Agricultural Worker Program Act of 2019 (now in the Committee on the Judiciary) to give “blue card” status to farm workers who have done agricultural labor for at least 100 days over the past two years, giving them a legal right to work in the U.S., and provide a path to a green card. An estimated 60 percent of California’s farmworkers are undocumented, and they are not spared from the Trump administration’s immigration enforcement guidelines. And even those authorized to be in the country on H-2A visas face the possibility that Trump will cut their wages.
Since Harris doesn’t sit on the agriculture committee, her advocacy for farmworkers is all the more noteworthy, Jessica Bartholow asserts. “I think that’s unique about her as a senator. There are some members — Representatives Jimmy Gomez and Ilhan Omar come to mind — who will step out and say, ‘I know I’m not on the committee, but nobody’s introducing this legislation, and my community says it’s important.’ They’re rare, and Kamala Harris is one of them. She pushes envelopes when she sees an injustice.”
Tumblr media
Ben Hasty/MediaNews Group/Reading Eagle via Getty Images
Volunteers wait with bags of food to distribute in Pennsylvania
Fighting food insecurity
Harris’s senatorial record indicates that, for her, food justice isn’t just about improving pay and protections for workers. It also involves combating food insecurity, particularly amidst the pandemic.
In May, Harris introduced both the Closing the Meal Gap Act of 2020 and the bipartisan FEMA Empowering Essential Deliveries (FEED) Act. The former bill expands Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) benefits for Americans in need during the pandemic. And the latter bill allows the federal government to pay all costs necessary to allow states and localities to partner with restaurants and nonprofits to prepare nutritious meals for vulnerable people, such as low-income children and seniors.
“Right now, SNAP benefits equal about $1.35 per meal, not nearly enough for anyone to buy a nutritious meal,” said Joel Berg, CEO of Hunger Free America, a nonpartisan anti-hunger advocacy group. “And that’s why a lot of SNAP benefits that are supposed to last a month last two or three weeks. This would be a fairly hefty expansion of the safety net but a much needed one, especially since healthier foods often cost more than less healthy foods.”
Berg described Harris as one of the anti-hunger movement’s “great champions in the Senate.” Because he views food insecurity as closely linked to poverty, he cited Harris’s support of a $15 national minimum wage as deeply relevant to the anti-hunger movement. The same can be said for her support of farmworkers, he argued.
“I think anyone who cares about hunger realizes that among the hungriest people in America are those who grow and pick our food,” Berg said. “No one in America should go hungry, but the fact that the people who are feeding us are is shameful.”
Harris has also addressed food insecurity among college students during the pandemic, requesting that the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) allow them continued access to SNAP benefits if the COVID-19 crisis has left them jobless. She signed onto a letter to Agriculture Secretary Sonny Perdue that described the food insecurity that existed among college students before the pandemic hit.
In fact, in July 2019, Harris introduced the Basic Assistance for Students in College Act to ensure that students receiving Pell Grants, attending community colleges, or minority-serving institutions could afford necessities such as food. More than 30 percent of college students may face food insecurity, according to the Government Accountability Office, and the problem disproportionately affects students at historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) and those living in areas without access to grocery stores or restaurants.
At the intersection of racial and environmental justice
Harris, a cosponsor of the Green New Deal, is also known as an environmental justice advocate. On July 30, she joined Senators Cory Booker (D-New Jersey) and Tammy Duckworth (D-Illinois), in introducing the Environmental Justice for All Act, aimed at achieving health equity and climate justice for all, but particularly communities of color. Among other measures, it would require that cumulative impacts of more than one potentially toxic substance be considered in permitting decisions under the Clean Water Act and Clean Air Act and establish programs to ensure more equitable access to parks and the outdoors.
“Confronting generations of systemic racism to achieve true justice will require us to recognize the role environmental racism has played and redress that by investing in long-term, sustainable environmental justice solutions to center and empower communities that have for far too long been excluded,” Harris said when the legislation was announced.
In July alone, Harris also introduced bills to protect consumers from utility shut-offs and to ensure the nation’s water supply is safe and sustainable, drawing on her Water Justice Act of 2019. This year, she also pushed for a comprehensive investment in keeping water affordable in the next coronavirus relief package.
“Keeping water service flowing during a pandemic is essential for keeping families safe,” Mary Grant, Food & Water Watch’s Public Water for All campaign director, told Civil Eats. “In recent years, [Harris] has introduced water legislation that emphasized racial and economic justice and that would provide the billions of dollars in federal funding that will be necessary to provide safe, affordable drinking water for all.”
The Senator’s 2020 presidential campaign slogan was “Kamala Harris for the people,” and Hunger Free America’s Berg sees that mentality as key to serving in the White House in the coming years.
“It’s critical to make sure that people in those positions are competent, have progressive values, [are] honest, and put the public first,” he said.
The Western Center on Law & Poverty’s Bartholow added that the anti-hunger community would be relieved not to have to spend time fighting an administration that passes policies that make food inaccessible to large swathes of Americans.
The new administration can choose its own path, Bartholow said. “And I can’t imagine a scenario in which an administration that includes Kamala Harris would support the lawless rulemaking that’s taking place now.”
• Kamala Harris Brings Food Justice to the Democratic Ticket [Civil Eats]
from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3gitvZe via Blogger https://ift.tt/2EjrkXI
0 notes
consump9qiz · 4 years ago
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Greetings, in your book you call a Bible is referring to a man and woman named Atom and Eve is not so as you have been told. People in a Garden Of Eve or rather Milk Cartons Of Evening is really referring to all of you spouse couples. The term Atom would be all of your Only Begotten Son Lights which were given to all those Porn Again ( Born Again ) people in your households you call kids, in which, they all had Dyed in past lives as adults then The Angels gave them an what is called An Eath Sneak Back Around ( Death Sneak Back Arounds ) into Reincarnation as Porn Again Crease Cheese and Nuttys ( Born Again Christians ) for they have been saved from the gaseous spirit realm by those meaning your the spouses becoming there new parents as Cheeses Cries Their Savior's all you who are Mothers and The Lord all you being Fathers as The Raise The Erection inside the women = ( Ressurection ) the fertalizing your eggs, people who had Dyed as adults in past lives are not dead anymore instead of them being dead anymore because now you their parents Dyed on their places and took on all of their sinsations and dyed for these kids on your households through Love. Now, what kind of Love you may figure and I will tell you. You and your spouses took on all of those people in your households which are the children for you parents took on again now, you took on their iniquities and dyed for them through Love for The Mating with your spouses giving them your Only Begotten Son Lights as Crease Mass gifts and Inheritences by The Angels that is what the Love Symbol Pubic you call Cupid Arrow through the center of the heart is all about. The children are now Atom which is Atomic Spiritual Son and Energy you once possessed until your spirits became Mar Rayed by The Angels by you partaking of your Forbidden Fruits in side your Mil Cartons Of Evening which by Principle The Angels had to transform you from Qizire to Adults = A Dull Spirits is what you became for those people who use to be Dead as your children are no longer Dead for you took their past life iniquities and dyed for them this, your Only Begotten Son Qizire Lights were given to them now you Parents are now Dead as Cheeses Cries and The Lord as Their Saviors That is one of the reasons they call you all Dad or correctly pronounced Dead and Mummy. Reality is reality days The Angels because these writings are their system and ways of doing things you see. The term for God when you're ready to go Ohmz The Law Of Light And Electricity, to go Ohmz into the Universal is Guard as in Guardian Angels and God then too is Coz or rather Qiz as in Cos Mic but rather Qiz Mic. We live in a Qiz Mic Angelic Galaxy you call A Cosmos correctly put is A Qiz Mis Galaxy so instead of calling The Angels God wrongly put but Guard = Guardians you are supposed to call The Angels instead of God you call them Qiz or Qizir. See the photo above? That is the likeness of what a Qizir Sons Of The Most High Look Like and that is what those people who were once dead and not anymore look like which in The Likeness and Image of Not God but rather In The Image and Likenesses of Qizire as All Qizire. Now, Adults has been transformed into Man and Woman really mean, Moon and Wo Moon and Spiritually you as adults and parents are in The Spiritual Gaseous Evening and will follow everywhere the moon goes in by Evening for many years until your next Rebirth ( Rebath ) using The Angelic System Called Esyh Sneak Back Around into Rebirth as Porn Again Crease Cheese and Nuttys Again thus, receiving you new set of parents Only Begotten Spirit Son Lights for they are your new Cheeses Cries and Mothers which the name God to you all to be Porn Again is not God but rather instead you are sayingI Cut and Gut. Mind you women have Cut and Gut is what it takes for The Raise The Erection of The Lord Inside Cheeses Cries your new parents fertalizing her Cheeses Cries Overies so that you adults may become Qizire again. To continue following do Support and Sponsor book manufacturing costs, such as, printing, paper, book covers, high speed printers,.
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themurphyzone · 7 years ago
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Oneshot: Reconnecting the Dots
A big thank you to @wiz-witch for beta reading! Took me three days, but it was worth it!
Another day, another business meeting. Scrooge dropped the last of the dull golden coins in the money bin. The coins were always in meticulous condition, but since that fateful day, the sparkles had dulled and the surface no longer shone brightly.
Swimming in his personal El Dorado no longer held the same appeal as it once did. All this money, all the jewels he’d accumulated over years of hard work and determination, sitting isolated from the world. 
It took a foolish man to believe that wealth was the most important thing in his life. In that case, there was nothing that separated him from any other foolish man, Scrooge supposed. 
He turned away from his wealth, climbing out of the vault. The hatch was shut once again. 
It was time to retire for the night and repeat the same routine tomorrow. 
Mrs. Beakley was already waiting for him with the evening paper and a cup of hot, steaming tea. Scrooge sat in his cozy armchair, downing half the drink in a single gulp. 
He picked up the paper, skimming through the paragraphs without interest. Convicts escaping prison didn’t surprise him anymore. In the business section, there was speculation of Glomgold opening a new factory in St. Canard. Given the criminal activity in that city, Scrooge thought his rival would feel right at home. 
“Ahem.” 
Scrooge folded the newspaper, placing it on the side table. He stared into the fireplace, devoid of any flames or coal. Nobody needed fireplaces now that there were heating systems. There was a basic one installed in the manor that didn’t cover every room, but the draftiness meant nothing to him as long as he could cut corners on the cost. 
After all, the cost of living had increased dramatically from the day he’d first set a webbed foot in America. 
Behind him, Mrs. Beakley coughed. 
Sighing, Scrooge turned towards her. “Beakley, we still have a few tablets left from the last allergy season.”
“I do not have allergies,” Mrs. Beakley replied coolly. “But now that I have distracted you from your brooding-”
Scrooge scowled. “Brood? Beakley, have you gone daft? I was only thinkin’!” 
Beakley raised an eyebrow. “I’m no dafter than a man sits and stares into an empty fireplace. You’re wallowing again.”
“The only thing I wallow in is money,” Scrooge grumbled, sinking into the chair. 
“Yet you haven’t done that in years. You just sit cooped up in this manor, only coming out for business meetings,” Mrs. Beakley retorted. “I know loss hurts, but this isn’t healthy. You won’t be able to isolate yourself forever.”
A voice in his mind told him she had a point, but he refused to listen. The events that had transpired that day weren’t his fault, he maintained. Accidents happened all the time.  
Being falsely blamed for Della’s death was almost worse.
Della’s loss, he corrected himself. 
Scrooge had little use for hope. It wouldn’t put bread on the table. It wouldn’t make him money. Though, in Della’s case, he would allow a small exception. 
Or perhaps he was just an old man in denial. 
“If I may make a suggestion,” Mrs. Beakley continued, oblivious to his internal monologue. “Webby has developed an interest in some of your exploits. Perhaps a reliable source could fill her in on a few details. Books and newspaper clippings only tell that girl so much.”
“I’m goin’ to bed, Beakley,” Scrooge snapped, reaching for his cane. “See you in the morning.”
Mrs. Beakley sighed. “If you insist. I still have a few rooms to finish. Good night.” As Scrooge shuffled up the stairs, he heard a mutter which sounded suspiciously like ‘stubborn old duck’. 
Rolling his eyes, Scrooge continued to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. As he passed by the door nearest to the stairwell, there was a crash on the other side, startling him out of his dark mood. “-we’re sinking! Glub glub!” A young duck cried out. “Put out an SOS, First Mate Webby!” 
The corners of his bill twitched in amusement, and he found himself listening for more. 
“-and the rescue’s a success! After the Beagle Boys, boys! They won’t get away with the treasure! And please excuse First Mate Webby, because she’s gotta go for a potty break!” 
A potty break? Oh no. She was coming out into the hallway! He shouldn’t have stopped and let himself be lost in a child’s fantasy. Surely there were better methods to remember his adventuring days by. 
He’d seen many things on his adventures, from the supernatural trying to murder him with an enchanted sword to so-called businessmen swindling local towns out of hard-earned money. 
But all the riches of the earth couldn’t prepare him for curious children. 
Scrooge took a deep breath. There was no way he could get to his bedroom without Webby seeing him. Maybe he could just turn his back on her and hope she got the hint? While he certainly wasn’t the most agreeable fellow, even he couldn’t bring himself to be that callous to a child. How hard could saying good night to a child he barely interacted with be? 
“Mister McDuck?” a voice said in surprise. 
Scrooge mentally cursed. Caught while he was being indecisive! Brilliant. Webby looked back at the slight mess in her room, then at Scrooge. She was in her pajamas, her bow askew. 
“Hello,” Scrooge said. There. Simple and to the point. 
Webby gaped up at him.  
Kids still said hello, right? That greeting couldn’t be outdated already. 
“I heard you, er, playin’ in there,” Scrooge gestured to her room with his cane, then brought it back to a resting position. The tip hit the wooden floor with a loud thud. 
Scrooge flinched. He hadn’t set it down that hard....
Webby’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to the bathroom without another word. 
Sighing, he rubbed his temples, turning towards the master bedroom when a sparkle inside Webby’s room caught his eye. Against his better judgement, he carefully made his way to the object, stepping around several plastic soldiers. 
The sparkle had come from the reflective surface of a toy boat. Next to it laid a doll that bore a resemblance to Webby, pink bow included. There was a wooden figure of one of the more physically imposing Beagle Boys, though its paint job left something to be desired. 
A book laid open on the nightstand, displaying pictures of castles. Interestingly, the book appeared more focused on the history and architecture of the castles rather than the idealized, fairy tale version of them. 
Mrs. Beakley had not been exaggerating when she said Webby had developed an interest in his adventures. He’d explored countless castles before, each with a rich history and hidden treasure to discover. 
Donald always tried to convince him to explore the castles built to house wealth, since he always had a habit of getting lost in the extensive tunnel systems in older, battle-ready foundations, Scrooge recalled. 
A tiny gasp came from the hall, shaking him out of his nostalgia. Scrooge whirled around to find Webby standing in the doorway, her tiny body stiff as she tried to make sense of why he was in her room. 
He couldn’t come up with a reasonable excuse either. 
“I see you enjoy castles,” Scrooge said, holding up the book. 
Webby was making eye contact with him now. Not everything that came out of his beak resulted in a disaster, at least. “I just wanted to know if you’ve ever seen castles. Are they bigger in real life? Do they really have ghosts and spooky stuff inside bookcases and stuff? Um, sorry for the noise earlier. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 
She traced a shape in the rug with her foot, looking down again. So much for eye contact. “No need to apologize,” Scrooge said. “Ya did nothing wrong. I didn’t mean to snoop through your things. Just...my curiosity has never quite left me.”
He could sense an adventurous spirit inside this young girl. Suddenly he wasn’t certain why Mrs. Beakley insisted on keeping her on the manor grounds. Born adventurers weren’t meant to stay behind a wall. 
An idea came to him. “Do you like stories?”
Webby nodded. “Can I pick the book?” 
“Well, not exactly. Your grandmother said you were interested in my travels,” Scrooge chuckled as a wide grin replaced her confusion. “Would you like to hear one?” 
“Yes! Please, Mister McDuck!” Scrooge stumbled back as Webby suddenly rushed towards him, crushing his middle with a tight hug. This child had a death grip on him! What kind of training did Mrs. Beakley put her through anyway? “Can you tell me one that involves Donald Duck? Did his temper ever get you in trouble?” 
“Lassie-” Scrooge choked, gently poking her in the stomach with his cane to dislodge her. He gasped for breath, leaning on his cane for support. “-okay, I’m fine now. I’m fine. I’ll tell you the story of the Sapphire Swan. I promise this has Donald in it.” 
This was before the fallout, so there weren’t any unpleasant memories with this particular outing. Della hadn’t been with them for this adventure, since she’d had a bad case of flu at the time. 
But he couldn’t think about her now.
Webby sat down on her bed eagerly, patting the space beside her. Scrooge took that as an invitation, hooking his cane around the bedframe and sitting next to her. 
“The Sapphire Swan. Made of the purest jewels that are bluer than a cloudless sky, with eyes of sparkling diamonds,” Scrooge said, smiling when Webby leaned forward, hanging on every word. “Legend says that a rich lord had commissioned a skilled craftsman to make it as a present for his darlin’. But when the product was finished, the craftsman had an epiphany. His creation was too beautiful for a world of despair and bitterness. And so he refused to hand it over, nor did he accept payment for his labor. Before the lord could send someone to arrest him, the craftsman took the Sapphire Swan and stole away into the night.”
“Why didn’t he just hand it over like he was supposed to?” Webby asked. 
She was sheltered, but curious. He liked that, for a reason he couldn’t put his finger on. 
“I don’t pretend to understand why some men think the way they do,” Scrooge admitted. “But stick to your guns, and you’ll go far, lass. Now, the craftsman hid the treasure in an abandoned castle located in the Alps, away from prying eyes. Before he became a recluse, he attempted to send a message to the Pope that detailed the whereabouts of the Sapphire Swan. However, the letter was intercepted somewhere along the way, and has since been lost to history.”
“Until Donald Duck found it!” Webby cheered. 
“Um, yes, Donald found it. In his own special way,” Scrooge muttered. 
“ARGH! STUPID! FALLING! BOOKCASE!” Donald screeched. He punched the side of the wood, only to recoil in pain as he clutched his bruised knuckles. A book had fallen across his bill, and a sealed, crinkled envelope fell out of the pages, landing in front of Scrooge’s feet. 
He broke the seal, but only managed to read a few words before Donald’s rage-filled words were incoherent and deafening. “Donald-” Scrooge dodged a thrown book. His own temper boiling, he slammed his cane against a metal cabinet. 
Donald continued to kick everything in reach. 
Scrooge coughed. “Well, since I can’t grab your attention, CALM DOWN BEFORE I GIVE YOU A GOOD SMACK ACROSS THE TAILFEATHERS WITH ME CANE!” 
That shut him up. 
Taking a deep breath, Scrooge read through the letter. “Castle in the Alps. Located on the fifth peak from the border of Switzerland and Germany,” he muttered. “Gonna need a pilot. Need a cheap one too. This would be easier a certain someone hadn’t come down with the flu.” 
Webby giggled. “The record keeper probably didn’t like you two destroying his stuff.”
“No, he didn’t,” Scrooge chuckled. “We were banned from all villages in a ten mile radius after that outburst. Finding the castle was no problem once we had the crucial information in the letter. Finding a place to land was a little more difficult. At the time, I was used to a pilot who wasn’t afraid to take risks. The one we used for that adventure was paranoid about the terrain. Bit of a trade-off though. Only cost me two pennies a mile.” 
Picking her doll up from the floor, Webby settled against her pillow, giving him a peculiar look. However, it was by no means unpleasant. Enthusiasm? Adoration? Childlike wonder? 
He didn’t know. 
He rubbed his neck, deciding to continue the story before the awkwardness became unbearable. 
“The castle was on one side of a cliff overlooking a deep valley. We had landed on the other side. There was a rickety suspension bridge in the middle. The pilot took one look at that bridge, and decided that he would rather stay in the helicopter and read a book! Ha! I’ve seen Donald pull off amazing feats of cowardice and bravery, but his face never turned as white as a sheet when he saw a silly bridge!” 
“Donald is brave!” Webby pouted. “He wouldn’t an adventurer if he wasn’t!”
It took all of Scrooge’s willpower to not burst out laughing right there. Oh, if she only knew....
“Uncle Scrooge! This is a terrible idea!” Donald whimpered as he set one foot on the bridge. It rocked in the wind, creaking and moaning, but held steady. He took his foot off the plank and backed up.
“Nonsense!” Scrooge called. “If I made it across without issue, so can you! The treasure won’t just walk up to us!” 
Donald didn’t move. 
Shaking his head, Scrooge dislodged several long vines from a tree and intertwined them into a thick rope, looping one end to form a makeshift lasso. After giving the rope an experimental twirl, he threw the looped end to Donald.
“Just hold onto the rope!” Scrooge called. “Move forward, and close your eyes if you need to! I have the other end!” 
“See? Donald made it across the bridge!” Webby exclaimed. “He’s brave!” 
Scrooge knew a losing battle when he saw it. There wasn’t anything he could say about Donald that would decrease Webby’s admiration for him. Donald would be jumping for joy if he ever knew that he had a fan. 
Perhaps he could introduce them one day. 
“The castle was about triple the size of this property,” Scrooge said. “We figured there was something in there that drove people away, because it would be rather difficult to hide a building that size.”
“What if they couldn’t reach the castle by foot?” Webby asked. “Too many rocks, not enough people to carry supplies, or animals hiding in the woods.”
Scrooge nodded. “All three of those are good possibilities. Now there was a slight issue. The letter didn’t disclose the room of the Sapphire Swan was kept in, so we had to do a bit of exploring.”
Webby made a face. “I bet there were cobwebs and creepy knights all over the place.”
“The place was no different from any other abandoned castle. Same trapdoors, same dusty old rooms, and incredibly steep staircases. I handled the torch, which provided enough light to see about ten feet in front of you. I was nearly in the path of an ax at one point, and if it hadn’t been for Donald....”
Scrooge held up the torch, following the wall even though he couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him. Donald took up the rear, flinching at a drop of water that fell from the stone above them. 
Searching the library had been a colossal waste of time. There was nothing but old book bindings falling apart at the seams and spiders crawling around the cracks in the floor. The kitchen yielded similar results. 
There were no thrones or flags that could’ve hidden a switch for a passageway either. At this point, one of their few options left was to comb through the basement. 
And Scrooge McDuck would never call it quits until he got hold of his much coveted treasure. 
The passage widened into a circular room. There were four different paths to choose from. Three would lead to danger or a dead end. Only one would lead them to the Sapphire Swan. 
He’d heard of the trick of following the left wall, but it always seemed absurd to place trust in an inanimate object to lead him where he wanted to go. Maybe there was a clue in the room somewhere. 
Before he could take a closer look at a ragged coat of arms hung on the wall, he was suddenly shoved to the ground, his jaw hitting the unforgiving stone. Furious, Scrooge shoved Donald off him with a huff. “Donald! You scared me out of my wits!” 
Donald groaned, rubbing his head. Behind him, a giant ax head was buried in the ground, a few cracks stemming out from the rusted blade. Several white tail feathers were blown around the room. 
“Lucky it only clipped your tail,” Scrooge sighed. There was a tiny speck of flesh visible on Donald’s rump, but the feathers would grow back in time. 
“Lucky it didn’t clip your neck,” Donald muttered.   
“Did you at least say thank you? He saved your life!” Webby had a surprisingly ferocious glare for someone her age. 
“No, not exactly. I can get sidetracked on these sorts of things,” Scrooge admitted. 
Webby folded her arms. “You didn’t say thank you, Mister McDuck! You should call Donald and tell him, because better late than never!” 
Scrooge paled. “Webby, it’s a little late. He’s likely in bed at this point. Or eating dinner. Or relaxing his blood pressure.”
“You could call him tomorrow,” Webby suggested. 
“Sure, tomorrow, why not,” Scrooge said quickly, deciding to quell this part of the conversation while he could. “We were very fortunate that the Sapphire Swan was at the end of the corridor we chose. It was on a pedestal in the middle of a tiny room, still in excellent condition. But when I removed it from the pedestal, the ghost of the craftsman appeared!” 
“Trespassers! Return the Sapphire Swan or perish by the sword!” The ghost wailed, his rags hanging off a gaunt body. He brandished his weapon, which glowed a sickly green. 
“Donald, run for the exit! I’ll hold him off!” Scrooge tucked the treasure inside his coat, planting himself between Donald and the ghost. 
Donald shook his head. “I’m not leaving you, Uncle Scrooge! Either we both go, or we don’t!”
They evaded the blade, their backs against the wall, glaring at each other. “You’re a stubborn one, nephew,” Scrooge said. “I’m covering you on the way out though. No time to waste!” 
“How did you and Donald defeat him?” Webby gasped, clutching her doll in anticipation. 
“Ghosts are limited to certain territories. The craftsman died inside the castle, so that became his domain,” Scrooge explained. “We evaded falling stones, clambered over broken pillars, and were almost deafened by the ghostly wails. But we made it outside, where the ghost could not follow. And so, we returned triumphant to Duckburg with the Sapphire Swan in hand!”
Webby clapped, her eyes twinkling in excitement. “Can you tell me another story, Mister McDuck? Please?”
Scrooge laughed, grabbing his cane as he slowly stood up. “You should be gettin’ to sleep now. It’s late.”
Webby yawned. “Aw, but I want another one! I’m not...sleepy. ” She sank against her pillow, curling into a tiny ball.  
“Tomorrow,” Scrooge promised. “I’ll come by tomorrow.” She certainly fell asleep quickly. He drew the covers up to her neck, removing her bow and tossing it on the nightstand. “Good night, Webby.”
He turned out the lights in her room, quietly closing her door. Mrs. Beakley stowed a featherduster in a supply closet, giving Scrooge a questioning look as he passed by. 
“Mrs. Beakley,” Scrooge said quietly. “How do children manage to be so...well....”
“Innocent? Naive? Charming?” Mrs. Beakley suggested.
Scrooge nodded. “I haven’t been a child in a long time. Webby can be though. And it should be kept that way.”
As he climbed into bed, his mind wandered to Donald. Perhaps one day, he would want to reconcile too. 
And they would be able to set sail on another adventure, as it was always meant to be. 
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caitofcaithall · 5 years ago
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[TW: unhappyish ending, implied suicide, implied murder. This is effectively prologue to a series though; the happy ending is on the way! Also, this was written about a year ago, so before C19 - I just didn’t feel right starting to post the series without it.]
So it’s like this:
The world fell apart on a Tuesday. While happy, unassuming people were eating their morning pig in a poke and rushing off to the office, a rather special, rather deadly virus was escaping a military lab somewhere out in Missouri. 
Perhaps it could have been contained, if they’d realized it in time. 
But the doctor in charge of the specimen was due for his vacation. The other scientists in the lab had no initial reason to think that procedure wasn’t being followed to the letter. 
The apocalypse had begun, and no one noticed… for another eight hours, anyway. 
 It seemed to take scarcely any time at all before the world was in ruin. World leaders fell. Governments toppled. Society as we knew it came to a screeching halt, and what was left were the remnants of those who adjusted and fought to go on. 
*
Gavin grew up poor. 
It’s just how it was. His parents died at the height of the plague. His elder brother held on for a few years, shielding him as best he could. He was probably the reason that Gavin survived. But then he, too, succumbed to the harsh scrapyard that had become their life, and Gavin was a young alpha alone. 
He was determined to survive, so he scrambled and he scrapped and he scraped for every drop of water, every hard-earned crust of bread. It made him strong and it made him fierce and it made him lonely and he decided, one night when the sun dropped below the horizon and the earth was blanketed in darkness and starlight, that when he was old enough and strong enough he would make something of himself. He would be bold and he would live fully and he would have a mate and a family of his own. 
This is not that story. 
This story is much darker. 
This is the story of the universe where Gavin’s dreams went up in smoke.
Farmer. Builder. Hunter. Shoemaker. 
Esteemed professions all. Gavin worked with all of their masters, trying to find his place in the world, a spot he could settle in and be proud of. 
He was good at them. He had a way with the grapes on their trellises. He could fix roofs and bring down deer to feed his patrons for weeks at a time. The shoemaker he studied under wanted to keep him on, admiring the small artistic touches Gavin assigned to the leathers they worked. Told Gavin he could be more than good, if he got more practice in him. The man would be happy to name Gavin his heir in place of the boy he lost long ago. 
But Gavin couldn’t settle. It wasn’t so much ambition as it was a thirst - a desperate need to know more and more, to be learnèd for its own sake. But ambition came snaking in, anyhow. The world might have changed, but it was still ruled by the wealthy. 
If Gavin were wealthy himself, he reasoned, then he’d never have to go hungry again. He wouldn’t have to hope for the best, that an omega might look beyond his threadbare clothes and his blunt manners, in order to see to the heart of him. He’d be accepted just about anywhere he went. He could have a voice, an influence. He could be of service to those who needed it in a way that he was limited from, now. 
He knew that the only way he’d reach that ideal was to be educated. 
So he studied. 
He worked all day with the shoemaker, or with the farmer in his fields. And he studied all the night, sleep taking a backseat to the quest for more information, more polish. He never noticed the omegas who did hunger for him, saw beyond his patched clothes to the heart of the man beneath, the man who always had time for the wee toddling children and the old men and women without families. Never saw that his own striking good looks and hard-working disposition was enough to get him the life he wanted, just as he was. 
When the day came that Gavin purchased his first proper suit, he nearly didn’t go through with it. The suit cost as much as he would make in an entire month of work - maybe more - with no options for trade or barter. But when he took a bath and slipped the fabric on, staring at himself in the mirror, he felt a surge of confidence take up habitat in his bones. 
It was time. He was ready. 
*
His first two interviews for positions that utilized his hard-earned book learning didn’t bear any fruit. But he rationalized it to himself, remembering his brother’s favorite phrase as they would scavenge for food and glean from the edges of the fields - third time lucky. 
So he interviewed for the position of a tutor to an omega son of a local aristocrat. The advertisement made it seem as though his charge would be younger, needing a firm bit of polish before being introduced to the upper crusts of society. 
Gavin met with the boy’s father in a wood-paneled study with large windows, in a house that had a maid to answer the door. He must have made some kind of good impression, because after the man finished smoking a cigar, he leaned back in his chair and told Gavin what his salary would be and that he would be required to begin lessons the next day. 
Gavin could only agree. 
This was it. This was his chance. This was his way out of poverty, his way into being a powerful man in his own right. Maybe he would even find a mate of his own. Maybe he too would eventually own a big house with paneled walls and villagers who admired him for the abundance he brought to their area. 
His dreams lasted precisely as long as it took for him to walk out into the fields with his new employer, that he might meet his charge. 
This was no young omega who needed a firm hand to keep him in check as he grew up. 
This was a full grown man, eager and ready, his scent calling to Gavin like the bouquet of a fresh baked apple pie to a starving man. 
*
Gavin went to purgatory every day for six hours - the amount of time allocated for him to instruct Jay in science and literature, etiquette and history. He learned things, too, like the shape of Jay’s mouth when he frowned at the ‘useless essays’ Jay’s father wanted him to complete, and the way the sunlight burned gold into Jay’s dark hair when Gavin had to track him down in the fields. 
For the most part, Jay was a good sport about the tutoring. It was obvious he didn’t want it; he was most at home among the rows of corn and squash, or wading in the creek that cut across the backside of the property. But every time Gavin would come to collect him, he’d give up the hoe or the fishing line or the moment of snugging his fingers into his favorite dog’s scruff, and walk back to the house with Gavin, his gait loose and easy as he peeked up from the sides of his eyes. 
It took three weeks for Gavin to break. 
“Why don’t you have a mate, then?” Jay asked, the corner of his mouth tilted up like he had a secret he wasn’t keen to share. 
Gavin swallowed. “Never did find the right person, I suppose,” he answered. 
“Hmm.”
They walked in silence for a moment longer. Once they crested the hill, they’d be in sight of the house. 
Jay stopped abruptly. “Do you believe in the old ways?”
Gavin wasn’t a man used to floundering, but he wasn’t sure how to answer Jay’s question. Not honestly, anyhow. Not without opening a box of worms that was sure to see him thrown out on his ass with no references. 
When the silence hung in the air a little too long, Jay shifted his weight and ducked his head. “I do,” he murmured. “My mam does. My father’s not my real father, you know. My mam’s true alpha died when I was a child.”
Christ. Gavin scrubbed his hand across his face. He wasn’t ready for this. It was the very definition of standing between a rock and a hard place. There was even an outcropping a few feet away, and his feet took him there without his consent. The stone was hard against his backside as he sank down to sit. 
When Jay joined him, Gavin sighed. “I do,” he said. “Believe in the old ways, I mean.” How could he not, when every moment since he’d met Jay, the sight and scent of the younger man called out to him like a beacon? 
“Then you know what I’m about to say,” Jay said gently. 
Gavin wanted to be a better man. He’d had a plan for his future, a plan that involved making nice with these people, and investing his wages, and building a name for himself. Settling down with a nice omega. Having a family. 
He never dreamed he’d find his omega. The person the gods themselves chose for him. The son of a man with wealth and power, who’d made it abundantly clear that Jay would be seeking a marriage of stature in the city the following spring - if he wasn’t married off to support a business alliance, first. 
“Where you are - ” Jay started, but Gavin moved quickly, placing a finger across his omega’s lips before he could finish the start of his chant, the ancient rite to take one’s own fated in marriage. 
“You hardly know me,” Gavin said, but it came out weak. 
Jay shook his head. “I know you by the scent of your sweat,” he said. “The pine resin and woodsmoke, the earthy loam that leaves me so scent-drunk I can hardly stand it.” Gavin opened his mouth again, but Jay hurried on before he could speak. “I know you by the way you stopped to carry my mam’s baskets for her last week, and how patient you are when I don’t understand the questions you put to me in the schoolroom.” He reached out, his fingertips ghosting along Gavin’s palm, ever mindful that they were not truly alone. “I know you by the calluses in your hands, that you’ve done hard labor - by the muscles in your arms as you tossed and played with the children on Sunday last.”
Jay looked at him boldly, defiantly, a bright flush spreading across his cheeks and over his ears, down his neck and under the cover of his shirt. “I know you as an omega knows their alpha, Gavin. Or at least, I’d like to.”
And what could Gavin do, faced with his own feral omega, Jay’s scent heady in his throat, Gavin’s own skin tingling where Jay brushed against it?
Everyone knows that an alpha surrenders to their own heart. 
*
It was hard to keep a secret in Jay’s household. They felt like Romeo and Juliet, that famous alpha-omega couple whose forbidden love was doomed to failure. They realized it would be easier for Jay to aver any questions that might come if he was found wandering in the night or the early morning; therefore he was the one to creep quietly along the corridors in search of his alpha. 
They were quiet. They had to be. Gavin agreed with Jay when Jay told him that his father would never accept them, and that he needed a few more weeks to prepare before they came clean with their deception. They knew they’d have to leave quickly in the aftermath. 
Which is why it was a surprise when Jay’s mother pulled Gavin aside one morning, looking carefully up one way and down the other, before pressing a bulging cloth bag into his hands. 
“I’m expecting you to do right by my boy,” she said softly. “I just want him to be happy.”
“Mrs. Adams,” he started, but she shook her head. 
“My husband is a good man,” she said. “But he doesn’t understand. You take Jay and you leave, you ken? Give him a day or two to make his peace with it, and then you go.”
He opened his mouth again, but the creak of a tread on the staircase had her jerking back, stepping away from him quickly and hurrying down the hall to intercept the maid, come up to do the cleaning. 
Gavin lifted the flap of the bag. Dried beans and jerky, some travelers biscuits, a small block of hard cheese. Some jewelry - more than suitable for a good trade. He sucked in a breath, glancing back the way she’d gone, before moving back to his room to secrete the bag amongst his things for safekeeping. 
*
Jay wasn’t ready to go. It was obvious, from the drooping line of his shoulders to the crease that took up roost between his eyebrows. But he drew in a breath anyway, and reached down to fumble his shirt between his fingers where the fabric met his stomach. 
“Alright, then,” he said firmly. “I’d like to leave now.”
“Now?” Gavin had intended to give him more time. A day to rest up for the journey and finish saying his goodbyes to his mam and the land he ran wild over, but Jay’s jaw was set. 
“Mam wouldn’t have approached you if she weren’t worried,” he said. “That means it’s probably best to go now.”
“You know what this is about,” Gavin mused, and Jay nodded. 
“We can stand here talking about it, or I can fill a pack,” he offered. 
Gavin leaned down to press a kiss to Jay’s lips. “Go on, then,” he said. But as Jay stole from the room, Gavin resolved to ask again later. 
*
The house was silent as they slipped down the stairs, avoiding the treads that creaked and groaned, and out the back door. Jay’s dog was asleep on the stoop, and he rose to his feet with a whine of greeting, wagging his tail and pressing his head against Jay’s legs. 
Gavin’s stomach sank. It was clear the pup would wake the house in his excitement if they didn’t hurry things up. They didn’t have the provisions to care for a dog, but a single look at Jay’s face had Gavin whispering, “Keep him quiet and you can bring him along.”
Jay didn’t bother to hide his grin. 
“Hush, Samson,” he murmured, and the dog grew calm, falling into place beside them as they crept through the courtyard and down the road. 
They were well away from the town before Gavin spoke, still careful to keep his voice soft and even, the slightest rumble on the balmy night breeze. “What was it that made you want to leave tonight?” 
Jay didn’t answer for a long moment, and when he did, his voice was sharp and ugly. “A suitor,” he said. “Father wants me to marry him.”
“You know the man, then,” Gavin realized. 
Jay shuddered. “Yes.”
Gavin reached up to secure Jay’s hand in his. They didn’t speak for a long time.
The sun rose red in the morning, it’s crimson shadows dark like blood. Gavin’s feet were sore in his boots; he’d no doubt that Jay’s were the same. 
They could stand to walk farther. A few miles more would bring them to a small town where they could have their marriage officiated in a church and trade for transportation; there’d be no separating them once they were legally secure and well away. 
They stopped anyway, weary from their trek and lack of sleep. They’d no reason to suspect anyone yet knew of their departure; a few hours nap wasn’t likely to hurt. 
They found a sheltered spot beneath a willow tree to hide them from prying eyes. Gavin intended to stay away to keep watch while his beloved slept - but as the long night and day before caught up to him, he too succumbed to the succor of sleep. 
*
The growl of the dog jostled them awake; when they were roused enough from their slumber to understand the danger they were in, there was no retreating from it. They were surrounded. 
There was nothing to do for it. Behind him, Jay shivered in fear. Ahead, men circled the tree, the willow vines offering scant protection. Their leader called out, crooning, his voice sickly and dead, his eyes fixed on Gavin’s mate. 
“You didn’t think you could run away from me again, did you, little omega?”
The land was silent; all that could be heard was the deep thurl of Samson growling in defense of his master. 
“You’ve no business here,” Gavin said, his voice loud enough to carry. “Let my husband and I go in peace.”
“I’ll see you shot for your impudence, whelp,” the strange alpha declared, and then they were out of time, out of choices, out of peace. They pulled Jay one way; tore Gavin the other. Samson’s yelp echoed, Jay’s screams heavy behind it. Their bags were shaken out and emptied onto the ground; the glittering gold of Mrs. Adam’s jewelry the last thing Gavin saw before it all went black.  
* * *
Jay woke up alone in bed. The sun shone brightly through the windows. Samson lay bandaged on the bedcovers beside him. His mam gave a sharp gasp of surprise before she began to fuss over him. 
“What happened?” Jay winced, and his mam’s face grew dark and weary. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, and the fear in the pit of his stomach grew and grew until he could no longer contain it. He bolted from the bed on unsteady feet to be violently ill in the room’s attached bath. 
“Where’s Gavin?” he croaked as soon as he could speak. 
“I don’t know,” came the honest reply, and those words would echo in his head in the time to come. 
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. 
“Mam?” he started, and hated how soft and small his voice came out. 
“You’re going to be okay,” she promised, and drew him into her arms, rocking him like he was a child again and not a man standing a head taller than she did. “You’re going to be okay, Jay.”
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.
*
“Your tutor! What were you thinking?!” his father raged, and Jay stood there, dumb and stony-faced, his back straight and tall. 
He wasn’t ashamed. 
“It doesn’t matter,” his mother’s husband said finally. “Jessup will still take you. Has a bit of an obsession with you, poor bastard.”
“I won’t marry him,” Jay said. “I’m already mated.”
“That ridiculous ancient rite?” The man who had raised him, sheltered him, sneered, his face ugly. “At any rate, not for long.”
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. 
*
There was a knock at the locked door. Jay looked to it listlessly; it wasn’t as though anyone needed his permission to enter. That had been made abundantly clear to him. He had been locked inside for weeks, seeing only his mother, the maid Celia, and the doctor. After he heard the shouting the other night between his mother and her husband, she hadn’t been back to see him.
He placed a hand on the light, increasing swell of stomach. He expected Celia again; it was a bit early for his nightly meal but it wasn’t as if his comfort was anyone’s priority.  
A key rattled in the lock. 
It wasn’t the maid. 
“Who are you?” he demanded, but even as the words left his lips, he knew the answer. 
Witch. They said she was Jessup’s mistress - a slender, evocative thing with ink-black hair and enough presence to command an army. The look of anxiety on her face appeared unseemly, somehow. 
“I can’t be found here,” she said quietly, closing the door behind her with a quiet snick. 
“Why are you here?” Jay asked. 
“To bring you this,” the witch said, and produced a small vial in her hands, setting it down atop his dresser. 
Jay swallowed. “What is that?”
“I think you know.”
Jay said nothing for a long moment. Then - “Do you know what happened to him?”
The witch regarded Jay calmly. “Not for sure,” she said, cautious, but then her tone turned bitter. “I only know that my own beloved came back one night gloating, and that he still has plans for you.” She gestured to his stomach. “After.”
“You have to know I want no part of him,” Jay said, and the witch snorted. 
“I know. Believe me. Your soul fairly reeks of the love you have for your husband. It’s… overwhelming.” 
“You’re here for another reason,” Jay guessed, and backed away as she strode forward, catching his shoulders in hands of steel. 
“I’ve come to warn you,” she said. “And may your souls find peace.”
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. 
* * *
The witch was a canny sort. She could see for herself the light that shone between the two lovers - perhaps she had seen it before they had, on a dusty summer’s day, when she’d spied the two of them cooling off in the creek. 
When Jessup came to her, teeming with rage and a viciousness that scared even her, she knew that she would do his bidding. It was for the good of her own survival that she had laid the curse, that each life lived in each other’s company would be full of toils and trials, that their mistake of loving only each other might haunt them through the many worlds. 
But she was not without a heart. And when she brought the curse to bear, she writ in a failsafe: that if they found their way back to one another, again and again, their love might burn apart the bindings of the curse, so that each time they encountered it, the curse would be weaker than before. 
In this life, Gavin was lost, no trace of him to be seen, leaving only agony in his wake. 
But in the next life, and the life after, and the many worlds as they were writ parallel throughout the universe, there were other Jays - other Gavins. 
And the misery of her curse did take them, twisting their circumstances and their hopes and sometimes their very natures - but with each incarnation, the pain eased, and lessened, until all that was left was their very own 
Happily ever after. 
[The next episode of the Find You series is about 30k. I’ll be posting on Tuesdays and Fridays until it’s finished! For other fics, you can find my Tumblr masterpost here or check me out on A03!]
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mollymauk-teafleak · 7 years ago
Text
The Seal Lullaby: Chapter 4
Next chapter is live! 
Thanks so much to @minky-for-short @childofdustandashes @purearcticfire Also, huge huge huge thanks to @brainypaperbullets @hollywoodx4 @arya-durin-77 for their amazing art, fantastically kind reviews and much needed support.
Feedback and comments would really mean the world, hope you enjoy!
Eliza had never been so happy to be exhausted.
She always looked forward to the walk from the tiny little bungalow that served the town’s elementary schoolers to her home. It gave her a chance to relax her mind after a busy day, wave hello and exchange pleasantries with the people she passed, remind herself just how beautiful this place was.
The dusk was gathering tonight as she strode along and she found herself immeasurably glad she’d remembered her scarf and gloves. As nice as summer had been, late November was proving to be a different kettle of fish entirely; one of these mornings, Eliza was certain she’d wake up to frost on the ground. Her azaleas weren’t going to like that at all.
She pulled her collar up a little higher as the walk to her isolated little cottage exposed her to the open sea which was kicking out a ferocious, heavy, wet bluster that seemed to reach under every protective layer of clothing she had to raise goose bumps on her skin. If she got sick, she was going to be so miffed; she had so much fun stuff planned for her class for the holidays and really didn’t fancy dressing up like Rudolph on the last day of school or organising a times table themed chocolate coin treasure hunt with a stuffed-up nose and headache. She was already feeling much more worn out than usual, although that probably had more to do with having her first nine to five, Monday to Friday job ever.
But it was a tiredness she could be proud of and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. If this was the cost of having the tiny class of tiny third graders look at her with such trust and devotion, having all twelve of them (it was a small town, there weren’t that many children to speak of) hanging off her skirt at playtime, bringing her little sprigs of the rough lavender that grew along the edges of the yard which she dutifully tucked into her ponytail, coming to her when a particularly hard piece of homework had them feeling down on themselves for hugs and reassurance. It was a price she was more than willing to pay, she’d never felt so driven or invigorated about anything, she’d never been so sure that she was doing exactly what she’d been built for.
The instant embrace of warmth and a familiar cosy scent as soon as she pushed back the front door (it always jammed a little, you had to shove it hard with one shoulder) only strengthened her good mood.
“Babe?” she called, stripping off her sodden coat and wilting knitwear, speckled with raindrops that would hopefully dissipate in the heat, “I’m back.”
The fact that Alex wasn’t immediately hurrying out from wherever he’d tucked himself away, hugging her and demanding details about her day and covering her face in kisses and wrapping himself around her like a koala in an attempt to warm her back up, that was her first clue that something was up. Her second clue was the realisation that the fire wasn’t on, the smell of burning and the slight sooty haze in the air were actually coming from the kitchen. Her third clue was the smoke alarm suddenly flaring to life with a panicked, skittish beeping.
That was all the incentive she needed.
“Alex?” Eliza’s voice was significantly more panicked as she dashed into their poky kitchen to see her husband coughing and spluttering in a plume of black smoke that had apparently just poured from the opened oven.
“Oh, hey Betsey,” he croaked back, hacking into the back of his hand but still attempting a light, casual tone, “Did you have a good day at work?”
Eliza gaped at him, going to throw open the windows and grabbing a dishcloth to wave the smoke away, “Uh, fine? Thanks? What on earth are you trying to burn down our house for?”
“I…um…” he looked sheepish, his hands wringing behind his back as he took a step back to shamefacedly watch Eliza swoop in and quickly retrieve the source of the trouble; a baking dish that held something that looked more volcanic than edible.
“I…I was trying to make you dinner?” he confessed in a small voice, both of them looking in bewilderment at the blackened sludge in the dish.
“You…” Eliza processed this slowly, “And what exactly were you trying to make?”
Alex paused for a long time, looking at his feet, “Mac and cheese?”
There was another, heavy pause before Eliza couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing, having to drop the culinary disaster and clutch the counter for support as tears that had nothing to do with the smoke in the air streamed down her face.
After a while, Alex couldn’t help but join in. There was something pretty hilarious about the situation, even he could see that.
Eliza was still chuckling even after the dish had been abandoned to the trash can outside and the open windows had taken care of most of the smog. The little glass window in the oven was probably always going to be stained black from now on but they could live with that.
“I really am sorry,” Alex said for the fiftieth time, though he was smiling. He was pulling out ingredients for his second attempt, this time with supervision, “I have no idea how I messed up that badly.”
“It’s okay,” Eliza insisted fondly, rubbing his arm as she passed by to get another mixing bowl, “it was so sweet of you to want to cook for me. You could have just waited though, I’d love to teach you how to cook?”
Alex shifted a little, looking coy, “But that’s not how it’s supposed to work.”
Eliza turned, giving him a careful glance, “Not how what’s supposed to work, exactly?”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck, getting some flour in his long, dark hair, “Well…I’m your mate, right? I’m supposed to provide for you, I’m supposed to get you food and shelter and all that. I thought, seeing as I can’t just go out and snag a fish in my jaws, this was the next best thing? Except I ruined it…”
Eliza tilted her head, a fond smile growing on her face. She wandered over to him, caught a little flour on one forefinger and dabbed it on the tip of his nose playfully, chasing away his forlorn expression.
“It’s a little different up here, Alex,” she smiled, “We’re a team, okay? We work together. Although…” she rose up on her tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his mouth, “It is incredibly sweet of you.”
Alex was blushing now, grinning goofily in that way she knew and loved, “Even though I nearly burned our house down?”
“Ah, what’s a little light arson in a marriage?” Eliza shrugged nonchalantly, grinning, “I’m sure most first time homeowners have to deal with a mild nuclear meltdown occurring in their oven?”
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Alex, he was losing his explicitly literal nature, “I’m never living this down, am I?”
“Absolutely not,” Eliza kissed him again, already thinking of how she was going to retell this little escapade in the most exciting way in her next email to her sisters.
Alex kissed her back, winding his arms around her waist lovingly, anchoring her against him, drawing out every second of contact until they had to break apart for air.
“Come on,” now it was Eliza’s turn to blush and squirm under Alex’s intensely loving gaze, wriggling away to turn back to the scales, “You’ve got me hungry for mac and cheese now, show me what you can do.”
Eliza quickly saw where Alex had been going wrong, with the amount of times she had to stop him from just tipping an avalanche of salt into the sauce or remind him that water needed heat under it to boil. He apparently forgot after two seconds that there was a recipe he was supposed to be following and the instincts he followed instead were a little…misguided?
They had a lot of fun though, ending up with bright smiles and flour handprints scattered across their clothing (not to mention two matching ones on the seat of Alex’s jeans that Eliza crossed her heart and swore weren’t her doing), eating pasta from the dish set between the two of them on the table.
“This is really really good Alex!” Eliza made sure to shower him with compliments to soothe his bruised ego, “Honestly, it’s amazing.”
Alex gave her a rueful smile, suspecting what she was doing but not particularly minding, “I’ll get better. But this is an okay start.”
“Better than okay,” Eliza shook her head, spearing some more on her fork, she really was ravenous after working all day, “Perfect.”
He pulled a face at her, earning one right back until they both dissolved into giggles. They kept eating, chatting companionably.
“So…seeing as being a world-famous chef might be just a little bit out of your reach?” Eliza smiled teasingly, “Did you have any more thoughts about sending off your manuscript?”
Alex shifted, his cheeks reddening a little. It had taken weeks and weeks of persuasion and promises not to laugh for him to give over the pages he’d been scribbling on for a while now, whenever his wife was at work or on the frequent nights he couldn’t sleep. When Eliza had finally been allowed to read it, she’d been stunned.
It was like long form narrative poetry, something Joyce-esque with a shifting, mesmerising plot that could never really be nailed down, only in the most teasingly imperceptible way of a voyage and a struggle and a searching. He wrote the way he ran, the way he swam and sang to himself in the shower and made love to her. Like someone from another reality. It was so beautiful, there’d been tears in Eliza’s eyes by the time she’d finished.
Her father had a lot of friends in publishing, it made sense for a politician to have an in with the people who dispensed knowledge. The offer to send it to one of them, to see if they’d want to actually print it, was one of the first things that sprang to her mind. Alex had reacted with pleased embarrassment, books were things of real magic and power to him and the idea that he could produce one himself was absurd flattery. But Eliza had been perfectly serious, she was still perfectly serious, the stuff Alex wrote in just a month or so was the stuff people studied and students poured over for years. He’d eventually sighed and groaned and rolled his eyes but promised to think it over.
Now, he huffed in resignation, he’d been anticipating her bringing this up again, “I just don’t think that one’s good enough, maybe if I had time to write something different I could put more effort in…”
But Eliza had been anticipating this too, she knew her Alex well. He’d insist that it wasn’t ready, that he just needed more time, he just needed to tweak it, until they ended up never taking any steps forward. She opened her mouth, a firm but gentle argument ready and perched on her tongue but her stomach gave a sudden and violent lurch, turning it all into just a soft, anxious squeak.
“Eliza?” Alex said cautiously, not at all liking the way her expression suddenly fell and her skin took on this green tinge.
“God damn it,” Eliza groaned softly, a cold sweat breaking over her forehead as she dropped her fork and leapt to her feet, just about making it to the bathroom, heaving and retching into the toilet.
Alex’s heart dropped and he went after her, cursing himself. First, he’d created a miniature volcano, then he’d gone and poisoned his wife, he couldn’t fucking do anything right…
He was never much good with illness, it was hardly the biggest problem out there in the ocean, humans were much more fragile, but he did what he could, gently rubbing between Eliza’s shoulder blades and keeping the long trailing ends of her braids safe from harm. He murmured soft, sorrowful apologies as he helped her move gingerly until she was slumped against the wall, groaning.
“It’s not your fault,” she breathed, her voice trembling and weak, “I knew this damn weather would make me sick, I always get flu when it’s cold…”
Alex gave a mirthless laugh as he passed her a hastily poured glass of water, “And I bet you always get food poisoning when you eat food made by a complete moron.”
She gave him a look over the rim of the glass, warning him off. She never let him get away with any self-deprecating comment.
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing wrong with your food…the second time,” she made the amendment quietly and quickly, “You watch, next it’ll be a blocked nose then a headache, I’ll feel sorry for myself for a few days and then I’ll be totally fine.”
Alex still looked fretful, still holding her braid, toying with it anxiously. Eliza caught his hand in her own, squeezing reassuringly.
“Totally fine. I promise,” she gave him a rough, tired smile.
“Totally fine,” Alex echoed, nodding and trying to relax.
As it happened, they were both wrong.
-
“Wait I’m…what?”
The doctor on the other end of the phone was still talking but Eliza wasn’t hearing any of it. She’d thought they were calling to tell her that her tests came back completely fine, that it was just a nasty flu and she could just take some pills or whatever and clear it right up. That’s what she’d told Alex, at least, when he’d begun to seriously panic after about a week of her throwing up and not being able to get out of bed until midday and getting dizzy at odd moments. He’d been insufferable to the point that she’d gone to her appointment with the doctor’s, a generous handful of miles away from their isolated little fishing village, alone.
She could see him out of the corner of her eye, shifting anxiously on the sofa and watching her, studying her face. She realised her expression right now must be terrifying him but she just couldn’t change it.
The doctor kept saying that word in a gentle, understanding, congratulatory voice but every time she said it, it made less and less sense to Eliza. She just wanted her to stop talking really, go away and let her process this, the buzz of information was turning her neutral confusion into out and out panic. Finally, mercifully, she went, Eliza finding herself promising to come in the day after tomorrow for a follow up, nodding along at mentions of weights and measuring and plans and procedures, until she was left with a dial tone.
“What did they say?” the words were out of Alex’s mouth the second the phone slipped from Eliza’s ear to hang limply at her side.
“Um…” Eliza blinked, feeling very far away from her surroundings, the shock playing tricks with her perspective as it has a way of doing.
“Is it flu?” his voice was stained with panic that he was making no effort to hide, “Or iron deficiency? Stomach ulcers?”
Eliza sighed softly, coming over to sit by him, finding it easier to deal with his fright than her own shock, “Baby, I told you not to read those old medical journals, they’re a little grisly…”
Alex didn’t seem to notice the gentle rebuke, his hand scrambled like an injured bird to catch hold of hers, “Eliza, I’m scared, what did the doctor say?”
Eliza ran her thumb over his knuckles, trying to bring him back down. If he fell apart, she’d go right with him and then there’d be no hope.
“Alex, I’m not dying, I haven’t got a disease.” That much was true, anyway.
“Then what is it?” Alex let go of a little of his worry, just a little, he could still see the distress in her eyes as clear as day.
Eliza wasn’t quite sure how to phrase this, her mind was stalling and stuttering like the thought was too hot to pick up and she flinched away from it every time she touched it.
“You told me that there were…stories? Of people like us, Selkies and humans that bonded?” she spoke carefully, not letting go of his hand.
Alex blinked in confusion, sitting back on his heels. He rationalised that if Eliza was asking him about folktales and songs, then there couldn’t exactly be a disaster on the horizon.
“Yeah, there are some songs,” Alex nodded, shifting closer to her to rest his head on her shoulder, “I don’t know how true they are but that’s the only way my people pass on any kind of history.”
Some part of Eliza’s brain that hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of her wondered if that was why her husband had such a talent for writing, for constructing these amazing, epic poems that seemed almost tangible. It was what he was used to. Did Selkies trade around such beautiful lyrical verses like casual conversation? Eliza couldn’t even imagine it.
She swallowed, tucking her legs up so she was closer to him, “And…did they have happy endings? Those songs and the people in them?”
Alex frowned, “Not a lot of our stories do, sweetheart.”
That was the truth, a life spent avoiding predators and constantly facing starvation or destruction, a life of being hunted didn’t tend to produce happy fairy tales.
“Oh…” That wasn’t the answer she wanted and Alex could tell.
“Eliza?” he breathed, begging now, begging quietly for reassurance that she was okay because he was starting to seriously doubt that she was.
Eliza closed her eyes tight, shrinking down into herself a little, “Alex, were there…did they…”
He clung to her hand, sensing her slipping away.
“Were there children in those stories?”
The words jumped out of her once they were found, making her recoil a little, like they had physical force behind them.
Alex tilted his head, “Yes. In some of them…” Realisation sank in and his eyes widened, his jaw dropping a little.
Eliza faced down his gaze, her lower lip starting to tremble as the truth as yet unspoken struck both of them.
“You’re pregnant?” Alex, always the bravest with emotion despite the consequences, was the one who finally said it. It had a question mark at the end but it wasn’t a question. There was no doubt.
“Yes,” Eliza nodded, her mouth now downturned and shaking, tears creeping up on her with an unstoppable approach. She didn’t want to be crying. She didn’t want Alex to think this wasn’t what she wanted, it was, in some very real way it was. But at the same time, she was scared. God, damn it, she was terrified. She was twenty one and so far from home and everything she’d known up until this point, being faced with the idea that she could do something as raw and significant as have a child, that she had a whole other soul and life to take care of. She’d never been so scared in all her life and now what would Alex think when he saw her on the verge of sobbing at the discovery that they’d made a life together?
As it happened, what he did was he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him so she felt nothing but his warmth and his strength and the pounding of his heart.
“Eliza, I love you,” he whispered, his words holding as much truth and power and beauty as she found in his writing, like he was pouring out his soul to her. Even more intense for the fact that it was held in four words rather than fourteen pages, like it obeyed the physical laws of force dissipated over a larger surface area.
And then she was crying, sobbing against his chest, dissolving and surrendering to her emotion but knowing now that it was okay. Alex was holding her, he’d bring her back once it was over. She was safe with him.
His long, careful fingers stroked her hair and his arms rocked her and his gentle voice murmured words in her ear as she cried her eyes out, asking nothing of her, just giving her space and security to deal with this. And when she was through to the other side, he just held her face and kissed the burning salt from her cheeks and rested his forehead against her own.
And Eliza felt like a different person. She felt like someone strong enough to do this. As long as there would always be those arms to hold her and that voice in her ear. As long as she had her mate, her Alex.
Eliza’s shaky hands left his shoulders and settled on her own belly. Of course, there was nothing there yet, nothing physical. But she felt the spark all the same, she felt the presence of someone reaching back.
“Betsey?” Alex murmured softly, daring to hope.
A slow smile spread across Eliza’s face, crinkling her red, bloodshot eyes and lifting her flushed, blotchy cheeks. And, as far as her husband was concerned, she’d never looked more beautiful.
“We’re going to be parents,” she laughed, a delighted and bewildered sound, “I’m going to have a baby, we’re going to be parents!”
Alex started to laugh too, his thumbs running along her cheekbones, “Yeah. Yeah, we are, you beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, amazing woman…”  
Eliza blushed under his praise and the messy, hurried kisses that followed, their lips crashing together with no finesse or care, their feelings too raw to bother about such things. Eliza tipped backwards, pulling Alex with her. She laughed, her voice rasping, as she stroked his hair while his kisses travelled down her body until his head rested over her stomach, resting his forehead against her skin like he’d done with her just moments ago. Saying his first hello to whoever was in there.
Alex smiled and closed his eyes, certain, despite all medical science, that he could hear a tiny second heartbeat under the more familiar thud of Eliza’s. A thought occurred to him in that moment, a thought he’d share with Eliza later as she braced herself to call her parents, as his fingers soothingly massaged her shoulders.
Selkie stories didn’t have happy endings.
But theirs would.
-
Eliza stood on the threshold of their cottage, stood on her tiptoes and waved, the wind whipping her dress and hair into a storm around her, but still she stayed until the car had crested the hill and dipped out of sight. Even then she lingered a little, until it got too cold and she couldn’t ignore the goose bumps rising on her skin, until she heard Alex’s voice calling her back. She gave a small, fond smile; he’d been agonising over her nearly constantly in an endearing, protective way.
Over them both, she thought to herself, her smile widening. Her hand gently skirted over the swell in her woollen dress.
Eliza came back inside and sat down heavily on the sofa with a bone deep sigh of relief, her head lolling back and her eyes closing. As glad as she was that the rift she’d opened in her family was completely healed, as happy as she was to have the chance to show them her new life that she’d build for herself and how comfortable she was now, she still was so, so glad they were gone.
That was family, she supposed.
Time, distance, Angelica and Peggy’s mediating and the fact that they had their first grandchild on the way, the combined weight of all these factors was enough to bring her parents down here for a visit. It had been a little stiff, a little awkward, some pointed questions had needed dodging but Eliza thought that only added to the success of it. Enough to satisfy them that she’d made the right decision but enough to make them keep their distance, to not feel the need to micromanage her life the way they did with Angelica (despite the fact that she didn’t need it) and Peggy (despite the fact that she didn’t listen). Her two sisters had come down too, made themselves invaluable as ever, acted as a buffer to soothe their parents’ fears and Eliza’s exasperation. But of course, what had really made the reconciliation an inevitability had been the sight of Eliza cradling her small but noticeable, fourth month old bump. Her parents melted instantly.
“You little miracle worker,” she murmured softly, not opening her eyes. She always felt that they could hear her better when she was focusing on nothing but the sensation of them under her fingers. Whenever Eliza talked to them- which was very, very often- she did it with closed eyes and a small, enigmatic smile.
She heard Alex’s footsteps coming down the rickety stairs, the sound of bare soles on uneven wood, his airy voice singing to himself under his breath. Music was another human concept he’d latched onto almost obsessively, though he claimed it was a little lacking compared to the kind of lyrics he’d heard before he walked on two legs. All the same, he treasured the vinyl record player she’d brought with them from Albany, he’d play a record over and over until he was sickened on it. For the last few days it was Edith Piaf who’d stolen his heart in particular. Eliza didn’t mind, she’d owned that box of records since she was fifteen, she loved every song in that box with a deep, nostalgic adoration. And she was finding the melancholy, the memories of lying on her bed as a teenager and finding solace in these songs, extremely comforting in her pregnancy.
Just yesterday, when the blues she couldn’t quite pinpoint or tangle her way out of had caught hold of her, the lowness and discomfort her doctor just shook her head and explained away as a normal symptom, Alex had known exactly what to do. He’d taken hold of her hands and pulled her into the kitchen, taking her around the floor in a kind of slow, careful waddling waltz that was all she could manage right now but it had brought Eliza back into the light in moments. They’d ended up making slow, gentle love against the wall with that gorgeous, lilting music still accompanying their movements and Eliza had ended up crying from the beauty of it, how happy she was.
And it left Alex always singing. That she loved more than anything. His voice lent itself well to song, it was raspy and it snapped in places and some notes wandered away but it was real and it had so much more feeling to it than she’d ever heard. She could listen to her Alex sing all day long.
She opened her eyes to watch him, laughing in amusement but not surprise when she saw he’d stripped right down to his boxers. He never was going to get the hang of clothes.
Eliza could almost actually see the stress and anxiety trail out of him, like ribbons of steam leaving a burning hot surface, she was so relieved. She knew having her whole family come to visit had been the most she’d ever asked of him. The weight of fabricating a whole life, a childhood spent in this town, running into Eliza at college, falling in love, a whirlwind proposal, having to keep all the little tics and habits that made him himself in check, hold himself awkwardly, like he was balancing a book on his head for the entire day, it had almost been too much. They’d had to pull away for an hour or so in the middle of the day, under the pretence of Eliza needing a nap, for her to just sit with his head in her lap, stroking his hair and rocking him, loving on him every way she knew how. She knew it made him feel like an outsider, to have to play this part. Talking art with her mother and listening to her father’s political rants he’d happily dispense to anyone who showed a passing interest, hiding so much of himself and who he was, it all just reminded him with a painful sharpness that he didn’t fit.
But he’d done it for her. And he’d done so well, her parents had gone from eyeing him distrustfully to shaking his hand and smiling warmly in the space of six hours, that in itself was no mean feat.  
Eliza poured every scrap of love she could find into the gaze she gave him as her weary husband came and knelt in the space between her legs, resting his head against her stomach and breathing in a sigh so deep it must have made his ribs ache.
“My brave, beautiful man,” Eliza cooed softly, bending over him, “My hero.”
Alex gave a small laugh, her voice tired, “That went well.”
“It went better than well, Alex, they loved you!” she praised him generously, knowing it would be like a balm on his raw anxiety, “They probably like you more than me! You had them laughing and you answered all their questions perfectly and…and, baby, I’m so proud of you…”
“I’m just glad it’s done,” he mumbled, catching her hand and pressing his lips to her palm, “If I’m allowed to say that.”
“Honey, I am right there with you,” Eliza reassured him with a gentle laugh, “That’s satisfied my desire to see my family for…the next twelve years, I’d say.”
Alex snickered along with her, the giggling, bubbling laughter of relief at the end of a long journey, as social batteries recharged and familiarity returned. He took his kisses over to her stomach, that had been the focus of his attentions recently, like it was the centre of his universe.
“Your daddy did pretty good, huh?” he grinned, his voice gentle, “Didn’t do a half bad job passing as human?”
Eliza laughed, Alex was as talkative with their unborn baby as he was with anyone. She loved it, actually, held onto the thought that their child would be born knowing their father’s voice like a precious coin. Like a lighthouse’s glare.
“You did amazingly, Alex, I can’t thank you enough,” Eliza answered for their little one.
He gave her a sleepy smile, looking proud of himself. And that was all Eliza could ever have asked for. That was part of loving someone so completely, she’d realised, having them love themselves being as necessary your own oxygen. Needing them to see and know everything amazing that made you love them.
“I have an idea,” she said quietly, grinning.
Alex tilted his head, quizzically, “Yeah?”
The only answer she gave him was to gingerly get to her feet, waving at him to stay put.
“Eliza?” he narrowed his eyes, “Baby, you shouldn’t be on your feet, c’mon, just tell me and I’ll do it…”
Eliza shot him a warning look, “Sweetheart, if you don’t calm down you’re going to have a heart attack before the baby even gets here. I can walk up stairs, okay? Now shush and stay put.”
Alex dropped back down onto his ass, scowling and folding his arms. A combination of the two things he hated the most, having his pregnant wife moving around when he could be fetching and carrying for her. And not knowing what was going on.
He sulked half-heartedly until he heard her soft voice coming from upstairs. He was up and moving in a heartbeat, only skidding to a halt when he pushed back their bedroom door and saw what she’d made for him.
This time he didn’t need prompting. He took her hand and pulled her into the blanket fort that was taking up most of the floor space, curling up with her gladly, back in the soft, warm glow of the place they’d both first discovered exactly what it was they had. This was one thing that hadn’t gotten away from them, however far they’d come in such a short space of time.
“Thank you, Eliza,” he sighed for the millionth time, his face happily buried in her hair.
“I thought you could use some space,” she replied with a satisfied smile, her eyes closed and her head pillowed on the lower part of his stomach so he could koala himself around her in the way he liked to do.
“I kind of did, yeah,” he laughed at the understatement, shaking his head a little at her canny.
Eliza’s smile turned a little wicked as she made up her mind that they’d been lying here cuddling for long enough, “I think I have something else you could use.”
Alex blinked in confusion, making a soft noise of perplexity, until he felt her hands pulling his boxers down his legs.
“Betsey…” he breathed, heat pooling in the base of his stomach as her warm breath touched the most intimate part of him.
The unpredictability of her hormones had given them both a lot of sleepless nights recently but Alex had rarely found himself on the receiving end. Not that he minded at all, he enjoyed giving as much as anything and felt so relieved to have a problem he knew and enjoyed fixing.
Eliza felt his hesitation as her hands rested on his hips. She looked up at him, her eyes catching the low light, “Alex? Sweetheart, we don’t have to, I just want to bring you back to yourself a little? I just want to make you feel good…”
What she really wanted was to show him how loved he was, human or not, how none of that mattered to her and what they’d been through today didn’t mean that fitting in with her family was a condition of her wanting to be with him. If her mother and father had taken one look at him and spat on the ground in disgust, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. It was nothing more than convenience; her love was tied to something much deeper and unshakable.
But that was a little too complicated to say. She just hoped it came across in the way she ran her fingers across his skin.
Alex answered with his hands tangling in her hair, a silent gesture of permission. By the time, Eliza was finished with him, after she’d broken him with her mouth, turned him around and put him back together, again with her mouth, they were exhausted. Sleep came easily, all worries and anxieties forgotten, replaced with closeness and warmth.
Alex and Eliza were finding that sometimes they didn’t need words.
-
Summer couldn’t come back around sooner for Eliza.
As much as she’d loved the months that had gone by, as fun as it had been introducing Alex to the concept of Christmas, celebrating the new year with the knowledge that one of the top publishers in New York city, a close personal friend of Senator Schuyler, had accepted Alex’s submission and already asked for more. Something about the concept of a reclusive, postmodern poet scribbling away his tomes in some salt burned corner of Oregon had a rustic magic to it that the intellectuals of the city couldn’t get enough of, positive reviews were flooding in. Alex didn’t have a clue what half of the words people used to describe his work meant but the advance cheque would easily cover the cost of a crib and paint for the nursery so, frankly, he couldn’t care less. And Eliza was proud of him.
As much as she loved spring, seeing her new flowers coming through and getting to feel the sun on her skin again and some blue return to the sky rather than near constant grey so monotonous that the clouds and the sea seemed to run into one, unending canvas.  Seeing the buds studding their careful, delicate trails across the open palms of the tree branches had broken her out of a day’s long slump and made her laugh for no reason other than flowers were beautiful and she was happy.
But Eliza found herself more than ready for summer. Not just for being free of work, of standing on her swollen ankles and fighting her instincts to do nothing all day but curl up and nap, but for the freedom of having nothing in the world to do but wait. She was unlike Alex in that way. While he was in a constant state of restless, impatient shifting, ticking the days off on the calendar, she was more than happy to enjoy the waiting. She’d always had the personal philosophy that there was nothing she could do to make time go faster, so it was much better just to watch it flow past at its own pace. There was comfort in the inevitability, the certain future. So, she was the one who chuckled affectionately and ruffled Alex’s hair and kissed the back of his neck, reminding him that the baby would come when they were ready and not before. He was the one who huffed and sighed exaggeratedly, more in performance than anything, whining about the infuriatingly long gestation periods for humans and groaning that he was going to explode if he had to wait another second. It was a fun, familiar little routine they had, resolving nothing between them.
Both of them were relieved when Eliza’s first day of vacation arrived, when they went to bed safe in the knowledge that they could stay there as long as they liked and not a damn thing could make them move. Despite their shared sleepiness, they stayed up late, making love in an almost defiant, celebratory way.
Eliza had discovered a deep, ravenous delight in watching Alex pleasure himself. She could lose herself in moments, in how his tight, lithe body rolled and rocked as if to music, how his hands moved like they had minds of their own, brushing lightly and teasing and palming before suddenly gripping and striking with enough force to make him shriek, seemingly without any command from Alex himself. He took such uncomplicated joy in performing for her, emphasising every single movement so she didn’t miss anything, making loud, exaggerated noises and throwing himself into it until his hair came loose and clung to his damp face, riding as many fingers as she instructed him while stroking himself off, moving with such wanton need but still denying himself if she asked it, only finishing on her express command. That night she worked him hard, repeatedly, until he was a mess and her own body was screaming for some attention, practically pouncing on him when she finally let herself go, gripping his shoulders and dragging him between her legs.
If Alex and Eliza hadn’t finally fallen asleep so exhausted and satisfied and happy, the storm would have woken them for sure; Alex wasn’t fond of storms and Eliza was a light sleeper these days. But, as it happened, they managed to sleep on for a few hours as the rain began beating its rapid tattoo against the windows and the wind started up its angry, robust howl and their little cottage swayed under the furious pacing of the storm around the bay.
What eventually woke Eliza was the sudden, sharp pressure against her skin, flinging her back into consciousness with a sensation not unlike she’d fallen from a great height and struck the ground with sickening force. She moaned groggily, shifting out of Alex’s arms, jolting him awake too, just in time to scream hoarsely as lightning turned their room into a negative of itself.
Eliza forgot her own discomfort in an instant, taking hold of Alex’s arms and snapping his gaze to her, “No, no, sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s only the storm…my love, it’s okay, you’re safe…”
Alex’s breathing was ragged and his eyes were fixed on the window, awash with so many raindrops they blurred into one solid sheet like melted glass. There was a rumble of thunder, partner to the lightning and he moaned, trembling.
“I don’t like storms, I don’t like storms, I don’t like storms,” the rapid, garbled chanting replaced his breathing, his fingers turned to white jointed claws in his tangle of hair.
Another burst from outside and the harsh, excruciating light fell across his angular face. And for the briefest of seconds his teeth looked longer and tapered to points, his eyes became solid black, there were shadows across his cheekbones that weren’t there before, sharp and predatory and…fearsome. Eliza actually withdrew, before her brain could pull her back, her hands flying from his shoulders to wrap around her swollen belly protectively. It was just how her body reacted.
The moment that drew out between them was sickening. Alex watching his wife flinch away from him in fear. Eliza seeing his fear and panic turning him into something neither of them recognised, her body betraying her. Eyes wide, hearts stopping, bile rising in throats. And a thought shared between the two of them; please god no, take it back, take it back…
Then Eliza doubled over, a sudden pinching sensation forcing another groan from her, sweat beading along her hairline and between her shoulder blades.
“Eliza?” Alex’s stomach went into freefall, “Baby, what’s wrong?”
And the moment was forgotten, it was gone, like it never happened. They both somehow knew it needed to be that way, letting it disintegrate with no protest. It wasn’t like either of them wanted to hang on to it.
“I’m fine,” she took deep, rapid breaths of air, running her hands over her skin, “They’re just kicking.”
“Are you sure?” Alex’s anxiety had taken a backseat, a little happy for something else to focus on even as his fretful father to be instincts went into overdrive, “What if it’s, y’know, it?”
“We still have about a month, baby,” Eliza tried not to sound like she was convincing him, stroking his bare arm and hoping the darkness hid how ashy her skin had turned, “They don’t have a whole lot of room in there and they mustn’t feel like sleeping- “
She was interrupted by another loud shout from the sky that seemed to shake the ground underneath their little home. And a beat later by another hard kick from the baby, a little too rough and sudden to let her hold back the pained yelp.
“Ow…” she whimpered, her eyes tightly closed.
Alex gave a small, worried croon, shuffling forward on his knees and placing shaky palms against her stomach, frowning a little at how hot and thin it felt, even more compared to his own cool skin.
“I…I don’t think they like the storm…” he murmured thoughtfully, vaguely, like the mechanics of his brain were still clicking even as he spoke, “I think they’re scared…”
Eliza’s bottom lip trembled, ache and exhaustion and tenderness bringing tears to her eyes. Her hands rested over Alex’s, the teardrops gradually dripping from her chin to dampen the outward curve of her nightdress, “Scared? Oh no, honey, it’s okay, please don’t be scared.”
All she got in response was another forceful kick that rattled her ribs; Alex had to catch her and gently ease her down onto her back, she couldn’t move herself until the crest of it had passed.
“I feel like this is my fault,” Alex’s eyes were wide and unhappy. His own reaction to the storm had been abandoned, all he cared about now was his child’s.
“Oh, Alex,” Eliza sighed softly, her voice trembling just a little.
“No, I mean it,” he looked so forlorn, like he’d reached an uncomfortable conclusion, as he carefully settled himself next to her with the tension of someone standing guard rather than going to sleep, “The…strength and the storm and everything…this is me, this is my half, they’re like this because of me…”
Eliza couldn’t hear any more, couldn’t see that expression on his face any more. She shushed him gently and reached out to take his face between her hands, like before, but less of a frantic snatch away from the edge and more of a gentle pull towards the warmth.
“Hey,” she whispered, her fingers resting over his lips, soft and split from the cold and the temperature of a pebble pulled from the shoreline.
“Hey,” he answered, recognising her little signal to ease his grip on what was bothering him, give her the chance to take it from him.
“You know what else our baby is going to get from you?” she tilted her head, eyes sparkling in the shifting light. The moonlight split into scattered handfuls of shards, held within her iris.
Alex shook his head, easing himself closer so Eliza could drag the duvet back over them from where his thrashing had sent it to the floor.
“Well,” she rested her head on his chest, “Personally? I hope they have your lovely thick eyelashes. I hope they get your wonderful tawny skin. Your smile that uses your whole face and makes the bridge of your nose wrinkle up. And your kind heart and your curiosity and your reckless capacity for love.”
Alex was the one crying now, his eyelids fluttering as tears beaded on his lashes, as his thin shoulders shook with a mix of giggles and snuffles. But Eliza knew, as she smiled tenderly and covered his face in kisses, he was okay again.
There was more thunder and more lightning, the seconds between them climbing as the storm’s anger dissipated but with each one there was a powerful lurch inside Eliza that left her trembling and breathing hard so she didn’t scare Alex even more. She had it under control now, it wasn’t the discomfort, it was the idea that her precious little cargo was frightened and there was nothing she could do about it.
“It’ll pass, the storms leaving sweetie, it’s going,” Eliza whispered, curling into Alex, trying to keep the hard roundness of their baby tucked safe between the warmth of its parents.
“I have an idea,” Alex had been unusually silent for a while, just holding her, kneading her lower back to try and help with the pressure, “Might not work but…if my weird ass genes caused the problem, I can maybe fix it.”
Eliza opened her mouth to shoot down his choice of words but he was gone, ducking under the quilt. She turned over a little, gingerly, shifting her significant weight, trying to figure out what his plan was exactly. He’d been caressing her stomach for the past ten minutes without it having it’s usual impact, what on earth was he doing?
Eliza froze as soon as she heard his voice, his gentle, quiet singing, muffled a little with the blankets and the racket outside but still sounding so clear as if it originated from inside her own chest. This was nothing from her old records, it wasn’t listed on the back of any dust jacket in that case, this was nothing from her world at all. The language he sang in was constructed for another set of vocal cords, another medium and another time. It was unmistakably a lullaby, it had the right texture and lilt, dropping to almost a whisper at the end of each verse and easing through the cadence, rocking and swelling in an expressive mimicry of the movement of a mother’s arms. Or the roll of the waves. Eliza didn’t understand the words but as she listened, images were painted upon her mind that hadn’t come from her, light refracted through green water and seaweed tracing a thoughtful dance in the current and a slight tipping of perspective, looking at the world through a different angle. Within the confines of Alex’s song, up was down, down was up, gravity was nothing more than a slight compression against a gentle floating sensation, sight was useless but the nose, ears, fingertips were alive.
It was haunting.
But the baby growing inside her settled within a few lines, the pinching and the pressure eased into a soft pattering as they searched for their father’s voice, finding his hands and placing their tiny palms against his own. Even as more thunder and more lightning rocked the cottage, their nameless little one was still, soothed into sleep. Before much longer the storm broke and the weather let go of whatever grudge had riled it, leaving nothing more than a slightly sullen rainfall. Alex let go of the song, it seemed to have no natural end but just left his throat to continue on somewhere else, out of their reach.
He kissed Eliza’s belly, murmuring, “You be nice to your mama, okay, try not to hurt her for me? You both need some sleep now. I love you.”
He resurfaced, expecting a kiss or at least a grateful smile, his own a little bashful. What he found, to the breaking of his heart, was Eliza’s face twisted in grief and pain, tears flowing down her heart shaped face, following the exact shadows that the rain and the moonlight were tracing on her skin.
“Eliza?” he breathed, reaching out for her.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked, twisting her eyes shut as if to hide from him what he’d already seen, “It’s not…I mean…”
Alex sat up, gently easing her over to him so her head was cradled against his chest, “You can tell me? Please?” He couldn’t help if he didn’t know.
So many times, in the past eight months he’d been forced to accept a truth that sat bitterly with him, that some problems Eliza had he just couldn’t take away. All he could do was nod and hold her while she cried over the unfairness of throwing up every single morning and having to pull six hour shifts with no coffee or being unable to doze on her stomach like she loved to do on lazy Saturday mornings while Alex read the paper and fed her bits of toast. Little things that didn’t seem to hold that much importance at first glance but still she wept and the fact that she was weeping over such apparently trivial things made her weep even harder. And Alex couldn’t do a damn thing to change it. And that stung him.
But this was something deeper.
“I’m n-not crying b-b-because they’re like you,” Eliza sobbed, her voice dripping with misery, “I swear I’m n-not. It’s just…”
Alex stiffened, letting her cling to his arm as her stomach kept her from throwing her arms around his middle.
“Then what, sweetheart?” He was getting the sense he wouldn’t like the answer.
“What if they…if they w-want to go?” Eliza wrenched the words out, dissolving into freshly agonised sobs at having spoken the words out loud.
Alex felt a chill as he realised what she meant. What if their baby was so much like him that they felt the same pull in their hearts that he felt every time the smell of salt caught in his nose or on his tongue or he heard the waves breaking on the shore, knowing just by sound alone which held the right currents to take him back. Back where was a question too vast to answer. Anywhere.
For Alex, the temptation was only ever brief, the old stale hunger for a drug he’d kicked long ago. The scent of Eliza’s hair or the brush of her fingertips on the back of his neck or the impossibly soft skin under the curve of her breasts chased it back down. Even when she was at work and he had the sea song caught in his head and there came that sly reminder from some part of his brain he didn’t fully control- his skin was just upstairs, the chest at the foot of their bed, it was right there- all he needed to do was find the diamond patterned sweater she’d been wearing all day yesterday and bury his nose in it, inhaling the smell of petrichor and garden soil and dew and flour, the scent of his mate. How could he want to be anywhere but here, by his beloved’s side?
There was no guarantee his child would feel the same.
What if they wanted to go? They baby Eliza had carried and formed with so much love, that Alex already adored with every scrap of himself without even seeing their face, what if they wanted the sea more than their parents?
“C-could they? I m-mean, they’d be half human, they won’t have a pelt, they couldn’t, could they? Alexander?” Eliza dug her nails into his arm in her desperation for comfort, silently imploring him to tell her she had nothing to worry about, their child would belong to the land.
“I…if they wanted it enough…” Alex’s throat felt half paralysed as he forced it to work, pushed away the desire to lie to his wife to preserve her feelings, “They’d get their sealskin from me.”
Eliza lifted her head to blink at him, her eyes confused, “What?”
Alex swallowed hard, “There’s a way. I’d cut them one. From my own.”
It would hurt, he knew that much. He’d never fully recover. But god, it would cost him more than just blood to do it.
“If they came and asked me, my love, I…I don’t know if I could say no,” he fought against tears of his own, “It would kill me, Betsey, of course it would but I couldn’t deny them it.”
“I understand,” Eliza rasped, miserably. She couldn’t resent him for that, she knew she couldn’t. At least, she tried so hard not to.
“I guess…Betsey, all we can do is just love them as much as we can and trust that they’ll make the right decision for them,” Alex sighed deeply, clutching her hand, “Look at the home we’ve made for them, the life we can give them…who could refuse this? Sure worked for me.”
The gentle attempt at humour earned him a watery smile. Eliza felt her weariness come flooding back, a wall of emotion that made her want to close her eyes and hide in the comfort of sleep. Alex was more than willing to provide, hugging her from behind, burying his face between her shoulder blades so she could rest in the safety of his arms. And it worked, in minutes her heavy eyelids closed to the world and she found peace.
But Eliza knew she’d discovered a fear that would live in some corner of her heart for the rest of her life.
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fountainpenguin · 8 years ago
Note
The TV Tropes Trivia page for "The Fairly OddParents" says Birch Hartman once had an idea for a film that was never made. Timmy, feeling sorry for all the other kids Vicky babysat, would wish that every child has a fairy godparent. Because Vicky was under 18, she would also get a godparent - Jorgen Von Strangle. And with fewer fairies to stop them, the Anti-Fairies and Pixies would take over. What do you think? Would Amity allow this? Would Timmy's wish brainwash them so that Vicky seemed nice?
Aww, seriously? I got cheated out of seeing Pixies? Dude, that’s so lame.
The obvious problem here is that it’s been established in show canon that there are not enough godparents for every child. Some fans seem to believe the number of Fairies is 81,000 because that’s how many could fit in the stadium in “Temporary Fairy”. My assumption was that it was just how many fit before it reached capacity, so I personally upped the count a tad.
I did some math last year to figure out how many Fairies were alive during H.P.’s time, and came up with about 7,000 (By the time Wilcox is born, that’s less than the population of Faeheim alone, which bothers H.P. a lot and gives him old people feels). Taking into account the rates they reproduce (including fairies not having babies after Cosmo), this is proportional to how many humans were alive in the time period parallel I set him in.
Unfortunately I tossed that math thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore, and I don’t remember WHAT time period it was and can’t be bothered to work it out right now, but there were dirt floors covered with straw, people mainly used curtains instead of doors, living rooms and kitchens were typically combined into “keeping rooms”, and a firepit in the middle of the floor (not over by the wall in a fireplace just yet) was the main source of light (Candles came much later- lanterns were only for genies for awhile).
Note: I tried to keep Fairy technology advancing at the same general pace human society did, though of course Fairies live longer. H.P. has seen people write with clay tablets, engrave on metal, use ink and parchment, and type on paper. It took them longer than humans to figure out papyrus because it’s not available in most areas of the cloudlands.
ANYWAY, I ended up having like 86,909 Fairies alive. They’re just not a people who reproduce very quickly. Actually, since edibles have to be grown on Earth, there have never been too many Fairies who farm. It was actually the people who were rich enough to survive on Earth who claimed the farms first (they could afford transport costs of goods to and from the cloudlands); thus, it did not benefit the poorer populations to have larger families who could work the soil. Unlike humans, the Fairykind had the option of looking to Alien societies when they built their own. The idea of rent sprang up very quickly. It behooved poorer families to have fewer kids so they could save money.
Worldbuilding tangent: Those of us ladies in first-world countries are usually anticipated by society to become mothers; raising children is seen as one of the most important things a woman can do in her life. 
Not so in Fairy society! The Fairykind can only gain nutrients, fill their hungry stomachs, and even get most taste from food not touched by magic- aka, food grown in Earth dirt that hasn’t been tilled with magic-made tools. This is why they settled the cloudlands around Earth to begin with, and not around some rocky planet that couldn’t support life.
However, even with the expanses of the Earth before them, food has always been a limited resource. Ergo, society promotes the idea that parenting is more of a leisure activity, and you shouldn’t have kids unless you know you can afford them. A homeless or struggling Fairy with kids is viewed even more negatively than a homeless or struggling person without kids (particularly with the way Fairy menstrual cycles work, b/c many subspecies have “breeding seasons” and stuff that marks their fertility, and at other times - for decades or centuries at a time - they could mate as much as they wanted without the risk of pregnancy. As a result, “accidents” are viewed by outsiders in a very “Wow, your parents are either really stupid or really hormonal” kind of way.
The subspecies lower on the ladder are constantly “always fertile” like humans; hence, why they’re on the bottom of the ladder. Remember that Cupid’s family line are the ones who designed the social ladder in the first place; they based it off cycles like this. Obviously, they are more prone to accident babies, and more prone to struggling, and they continue to be cast in a bad light by society.
And yes, Praxis deliberately tried to cast Ambrosine into the struggling position when he cut off his funds after Ambrosine had H.P. as a teenager- and Ambrosine put H.P. in the same scenario when H.P. had his third kid and there was still no supportive mother in sight.
Do you see where I’m going with this? Promote the idea that status can only fall with marriage and not raise a lower-ranked person up, and ta-da! The Fairy caste system is in place and keeps the power in the hands of wealthy fairies- families who tend to marry cousins to keep their wealth in the family. A poor full-blooded fairy is technically still ranked higher than, say, a rich elf on a legal level where inheritances and things are concerned. In personal interactions, not so much.
Compare this with Anti-Fairy society, which places a heavier focus on family loyalty- if you choose to keep the kid. In Anti-Fairy society, you basically have the right to give up the kid at birth since you had to have the kid if your counterpart did, whether you wanted to or not. Antis dumping their kids in the middle of nowhere is the stereotypical exception rather than the rule, and used by Fairies when they want to paint Antis in a bad light. In reality, Anti-Fairy society has systems in place where you can take pups, and other Antis who want kids but are infertile because their counterparts haven’t had any can adopt them. 
However, if you choose to accept the kid and you begin spending resources on it, then this idea of family loyalty comes into play, because bats roost in colonies, see. It’s a very, “I didn’t HAVE to keep you, but I did, so don’t you dare make me regret this by dishonoring the family name we’re risking for you” kind of thing. With these family ties in mind, if a teenage Anti-Fairy parent kept their kid, it would reflect poor on the teen’s parents for not stepping in to help them raise it. Raise, yes- politics are a different story sometimes.
SO! This idea of parenting being a leisure activity for Fairies contributes to A) Fairies not rioting when they couldn’t have kids anymore, and B) Their population being small.
What were we talking about again? Oh yeah. Family size, the Fairy population, and Amity. Sorry.
86,909 Fairies alive in my headcanon at the time of “Jimmy Timmy Power Hour”. There are more human kids than that. If this wish affected the entire world, this means that even Fairies who haven’t been trained to be godparents would get sucked into this.
Realistically, this is a wish that the Fairy Council would never allow, and it should shut down Cosmo and Wanda’s wands. You would think this would be one of the very first additions in Da Rules, because it could seriously screw up society and cause unnecessary stress, panic, and chaos.
So it’s not so much Amity having a say in whether this wish is okay or not, though they would be the ones to decide which fairies get which godchildren, and it would a be a rush job so they wouldn’t study personalities first. The godparents they have on file probably have personality details written that they could glance at, but they don’t have time to evaluate ALL the Fairies. In fact, they probably wouldn’t have time to evaluate all the kids: Hence, Vicky may have slipped through the ranks there. 
Odd that she’d end up with Jorgen. Jorgen’s position as Keeper of Da Rules is pretty important, so you’d think he and the Council would be the absolute last resorts, and Amity isn’t allowed to assign them without their permission. I suppose they would have said, “This is important, so I’ll volunteer”, and Amity assigned them to the first kids to come up. In which case, Jorgen and the Council likely would have been “brainwashed” by the wish in the same way they were by the Secret Wish (and they’d probably treat it as seriously).
Of course, things would be a little easier on Amity if the wish only affects Dimmsdale (especially if Timmy just wanted all the kids who had been bullied by Vicky to get godparents). In theory, Fairies (and Anti-Fairies) who have passed their certification classes and been licensed to be godparents apply to Amity in the hopes of being assigned to a child. So, when Timmy makes the wish, Amity would simply take all these certified newbies and assign them to godkids, and possibly make certification classes easier, or even offer temporary certification to students “because this is an emergency”.
Still, there is a godparent shortage going on right now, and evidently has been since “Temporary Fairy”. Jorgen said in “The Big Fairy Share Scare” that Fairies simply weren’t pursuing godparenting as a job anymore- probably because you have to pass all those tests and you get paid by commission; you’re out of luck if your kid loses you and you don’t get assigned to another one for years. 
Additionally, after the ban on fairy babies was lifted when Poof was born, many fairies are entering that age where they’ve accumulated sufficient funds to support themselves and are looking for leisure activities (or otherwise taking advantage of this opportunity for parenthood in case the window of opportunity closes again). They’re interested in settling down and raising families. There are only so many times you can be ripped away from a godkid before you begin craving something more permanent. 
Cosmo and Wanda are a team and had been with Timmy for many years; they were confident in their ability to raise Poof while still being his fairies (though we know this was rough on Timmy at first during Season 6). Some other godparents, after losing their kids, probably decided to take some time off. Fairy World is having a baby boom right now, so to speak. If Timmy made this wish for all the kids to have godparents, then these godparents would definitely be ordered back onto the field. Retired experts are first in line, before hopeful newbie fairies (or dust forbid, Anti-Fairies) are approved for work.
If this movie ever does get made, I’ll have to debate over whether or not I consider it canon. I’ll probably say, “It’s canon, but depending on the number of kids who get fairies, you may need to pretend that each godparent is assigned to multiple kids, except Jorgen because he does what he wants”.
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