#our defenders and doctors and first responders give me so much strength to keep going

[folklorespring]

"During the first 24 hours [after the airstrike] there's still a chance of finding alive people under the rubble. There's still hope. There's always hope". Ukrainian rescuers rest on the grass near the institute that was bombed by russia.

[captainjimothycarter]

So silly image of sorts based on cousins, but Peggy and Steve vs other parents regarding their kid because their kid takes after serumed daddy and is big for his age. Someone giving them shit for being terrible parents cause their 'obviously' pre-school aged child is throwing a fit and the snap back that the kid is a year, 18 months, not pre-school don't expect a big kid just because he's tall/broad for his age, he's still a baby etc.

Okay maybe less funny but over protective Steve really wanted to showcase himself.

--

They knew that there was going to be problems down the road with Steve having the serum and he and Peggy trying for kids.

Howard had given his own input or two and it was nothing more than, “We simply don’t know what will happen, kid. It’s all guessing games. Peggy’s pregnancy could either be completely normal six, seven, eighteen months or she could have the kid in six and the kid be fine or worst.”

Peggy’s lips pursed slightly, taking Steve’s hand into her own. Their wedding bands gently brushed one another as she did. “First off, do you not know how long a woman is pregnant for, Howard? Nine months! Nine months. How…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and waved off anything he said in explanation.

“Second,” she continued with a huff. “What do you mean worse?”

Here now, Howard looked sheepish, more so for the worse than the lack of knowing how long a woman was pregnant for. “Well...when we first met Steve he did have that laundry list of problems and-”

“You mean our kid could be like how I was?” Steve interjected, interrupting an annoyed-looking Howard. “They could-could-”

“Hold up, before you start spiraling, Stevie.” Howard’s hands flew up, raised to defend himself and stop Steve from starting to panic. “I said could. If. Maybe. It’s a possibility, a slight possibility that we have to consider, even if I don’t think it’s possible. That serum coursing through your veins rewrites DNA. Genetics. Your little kid is more likely to have that serum than to have any laundry list of your problem.”

But it was still something they had to think about and Steve was struggling to wrap his mind around that.

All through Peggy’s pregnancy, that problem remained in the back of his head. It was a possibility. No matter how much he tried to reassure himself with the countless doctors and even Howard saying that Peggy was doing outstanding for her pregnancy, how big the baby was, and what naught.

It was still there, no matter how much he tried to drown it with optimistic thoughts.

It wasn’t until Chester Micheal Carter-Rogers was born at ten pounds and nine ounces, twenty-five inches in length did Steve breathe a sigh of relief. Even if Chest was three weeks early and Peggy had to have a c-section.

Peggy and baby were both fine and Steve was grateful, so, so, so grateful.

That’s when the problems began to show how it would be to raise a child with the serum. How much of the serum and if they’d later possess super-human strength, no one was sure. Not even Howard. It was all development.

At three months, Chester was already sitting up on his own and responding to his name with a toothless smile. At five months, he was holding his own bottle and loving to play with his parents. At six months, started the teething.

“Well, at least he doesn’t have your strength,” Peggy tried to joke as Chester chewed on the slushy-texture pacifier. “Else he would’ve bitten my nipple straight off with those three teeth halfway coming in. If he bites my nipple, we’re having a problem, mister.”

Chester just giggled at his mama’s finger and gripped at it, making Steve give that half-smile of relief.

Chester was eight months before he said his first word, “Broom!”

Steve dropped the broom he was holding, looking down at the heavy boy strapped to his chest. He’d dropped a glass earlier and was trying to clean it up, having strapped his baby boy to him so he wasn’t hurt. “Did you just…?”

Chester grinned a whole eight teeth in his mouth now. “Broom! Broom!”

“You just…” Steve swallowed, feeling faint and overwhelmed with pride as he picked the boy up and hugged him. “You spoke!”

It was near the year mark did Howard point something out over dinner. “You know...Chester has never been sick.”

Peggy shared a look with Steve, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Steve lowered his fork and looked at their baby that he was feeding mashed-up food. “That’s true,” she said carefully after a moment of thought. “Not even a fever, a cold. I wasn’t sickly as a child but I had my fair share of colds as an infant and Lord knows you did too, Steve.”

“I think it’s safe to confirm that Chester has Steve’s serum,” Howard mused as if no one had already thought about that. “Good for him.”

--

Other parents started to notice the developments too during their daddy and me! classes. There were some snide remarks on how big their boy was for a one-year-old.

“Thirty-two pounds!” Gretta hissed, glaring at where Steve was showing Chester and the other kids how to blow bubbles. “He said Chester is thirty-two pounds and thirty-five inches! Can you believe that? Look at how big he is!”

Steve huffed in annoyance and tried not to let the other gossip get to him. It wasn’t until Peggy stormed home one day after a grocery trip with Chester, the little boy sniffling like he’d been crying did it hit him how rude the other parents were.

“I ran into our darling neighbor today,” she noted, slamming the eggs down on the counter.

Steve flinched and hope they weren’t broken as he finished buttoning up Chester’s pants after he’d taken him to the bathroom. “Darling,” he warned, knowing how sensitive Chester was to emotions. “Which neighbor?”

“Oh, the wonderful and perfect Kelly and her perfectly normal daughter Jackie. Don’t you know how perfect they are?”

Steve watched as she half-aggressively put up the groceries, only stopping her when she almost dropped the barely-survived eggs. “Peggy,” he breathed, cupping her jawline. “What did they say?”

“Chester went to hug Jackie as normal - he’s fascinated with other kids and you know him, doesn’t know his own strength, and is just getting the hang of walking right. He fell into Jackie and pushed them both down and Kelly acted like he had punched her daughter. She told me to keep my monster of a child away from her and her family. I told her then she needs to keep her husband home and away from his mistress on business trips.”

Steve’s lips pursed and looked over to Chester playing with his blocks, sighing. Yeah, he got that. The neighbors were not the most polite about Chester’s rapid growth. It’s not like they could say he was Captain America and Chester had some percentage of the super-soldier serum.

“Well, maybe she’ll learn to keep her mouth shut,” he grunted, taking the eggs from her to safely put in the fridge.

--

In the two months since that incident, Chester was speaking more, learning new words every day. He was even speaking full sentences and could name objects. Now he was walking by himself, kicking a ball back and forth, and even sang songs.

Unfortunately, that meant that Peggy had, of course, taught their son The Man With The Plan.

Right now, none of that mattered. Not when Chester, his beautiful son with his downy soft blonde hair, and hazel eyes, was screaming in the buggy. Not that Steve blamed his son, really. The kid was hot and icky and tired and after several boosters from the doctor, he wouldn’t want to be in public either.

But grocery trips had to be had.

And it didn’t help that Kelly shouldered by them, dragging her daughter and loudly stating that Jackie wasn’t allowed to hug Chester or even look at him.

Now how do you explain that to a child who’s already in a bad mood? You don’t.

Steve had given up on comforting Chester beyond rubbing his back and whispering to him as he looked at the options of oatmeal. He was still sniffling and hiccuping loudly and screaming every so often, even if Kelly had insisted on staying on the aisle with them.

“If that was my daughter,” she droned on without anyone asking her, “I would’ve taught her right and told her tantrums to get you nowhere, especially at that age.”

“And what age might that be?” Steve challenged, standing up and laying a hand on the cart. Chester’s little fingers wrapped around his middle finger to try to suckle on. Poor buddy. Still had that tooth coming in.

“Four, isn’t he?”

Steve just blinked at her, scooping Chester up to try to ground him. God, he wishes Peggy was here. She wouldn’t keep her temper in check as much as he was, but her comfort was greatly needed.

“You know damn well that our kids were born the same year, just months apart, and your daughter, who’s now pulling open the boxes of grits, by the way, is three months older than Chest. And by the way, Kelly, Chest is only eighteen months old! He’s just big for his age and upset because you’re a terrible mother who insists that our kids can’t play together.”

“Well-well-” Kelly stomped to her child and ripped the box from her hand, jerking her up. “He’s too big! He’ll hurt her! He’s nothing but a m-”

Steve didn’t feel his feet moving him until he was in front of the woman about to call his child a monster. He cradled Chester closer to him and glared down at her.

“Finish that sentence, I dare you. You and I both know damn well that Paul isn’t the father of your child and unless you want him to know…” The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he stepped back fixed Chester in his arms. “Come on, Chest. I know mommy is waiting for us at the house. Are you ready for our big move, huh? Away from judgemental neighbors who can’t keep themselves in check, yeah? We’ll find new friends for you to play with who don’t mind how big you are. Yeah, we will!”

--

It might’ve taken two months from moving from Brooklyn to DC and to finally get their house in order but Chester was a lot happier here.

More room to play around in, even having three play dates lined up in the last week with new neighbors who didn’t seem to mind their son was a little more advance.

It wasn’t until the four-month mark hit and Peggy came home from a doctor appointment within Shield did Steve feel the familiar dread hit him as she silently handed him a blank envelope.

Two sonograms were laid inside. One labeled baby a and the other baby b.

“Twins,” he breathed, looking over to Chester rolling his ball after the cat. “We’re having...twins.”

Peggy, seeing the familiar look pulled him in for a comforting kiss. “We are, but at least we have practice with Chester. And no judgemental Kelly around here.”

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 26)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2237

Warnings: angst and language throughout, medical complications, blood, fighting, surgery

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @quailliamyfears, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

"Shit!" Christine cried out. 

"Y/N? Y/N?" Stephen tried, but you were out cold. "Help her."

"But your chest. It's wide open--"

"Help her!" he demanded.

"Jeez, alright! Alright!" She went out into the hall and pulled in another bed. She called out for a doctor and a few nurses to help you onto the bed before telling them to leave and get her two suture kits. 

By the time they returned, the other doctor had cut your pant leg off and was working to clean the wound and assess it.

"Some kind of foreign blade sliced all the way through her leg." 

"Yeah, he was stabbed in the chest," she informed before starting to work on him. 

Stephen apologized to Christine for the way he treated her and she asked what was going on and he explained his situation to her before finishing the sutures. 

"Is she almost done?" Stephen asked the other doctor as he started to get up.

"What? Where are you going?" Christine asked.

"Late for a cult meeting. Just help me up and help me get dressed." 

As she helped him with his robes, the doctor answered Stephen's question. "She'll be alright, but she's lost a hell of a lot of blood. Her pants are beyond soaked in blood. I think she has a concussion," he said, recalling when he looked at your pupils. "She needs to stay overnight. How the hell is she alive?"

Christine looked from you to Stephen. The answer was clear - you had stayed alive for him. 

“She needs to stay here, Stephen,” Christine insisted. “I’ll take care of her.”

You suddenly gasped awake. 

Stephen was at your side instantly. “Hey there,” he greeted, his face painted with love and compassion. “Hey, you lost a lot of blood so they want to keep you overnight, but I’ve got to go back to the sanctum. I’ll come visit you as soon as--”

“What? No. Fuck no. I’m coming with you,” you insisted.

“You can’t. You need to stay here.” 

“Why?”

“Well, first of all I’m not done stitching you up,” the doctor that was working on you said. 

“Well, I see three doctors in this room. Maybe someone can stitch the back while the other stitches the front, but I am coming with you Stephen, like it or not. I still have the sling ring and you’ll have to tear it off my body to get it.” You glared at him and he held up his hands in surrender. 

Christine gave a look to the other doctor before she jumped in and you turned on your side, letting the doctors work on you from either side. 

The second you were entirely stitched up, you and Stephen made for the portal. He said his goodbyes to Christine as you stood off to the side, letting it happen. He showed her the portal before saying he really had to go. You stepped inside, and offered your hand. Once inside, you closed the portal and passed the ring to him.

He encountered the man that had attacked you and checked his pulse - he was dead. Stephen gave you a look of dread before reaching up to grab the cloak. It attached itself to him and the two of you continued walking down the hall.

"Strange! Y/N! You're okay. 

"A relative term, but yeah, I’m okay."

"The Cloak of Levitation. It came to you."

The Ancient One suddenly said, "No minor feat. It’s a fickle thing."

"He’s escaped," Stephen informed. 

The Ancient One asked, "Kaecilius?" 

"Yeah. He can fold space and matter at will."

"He folds matter outside the mirror dimension? In the real world?"

"Yeah."

"How many more?" The Ancient One asked. 

"Two. I stranded one in the desert."

"And the other?"

"His body was in the hall. Master Drumm was in the foyer."

Mordo replied, "He’s been taken back to Kamar-Taj."

The Ancient One informed, "The London Sanctum has fallen. Only New York and Hong Kong remain now to shield us from the Dark Dimension. You defended the New York Sanctum from attack. With its Master gone, it needs another, Master Strange."

Your eyes went to Stephen, analyzing his face, his response. 

"No," he said defiantly as he turned towards her. "It is Dr. Strange. Not Master Strange, not Mr. Strange, Doctor Strange. When I became a doctor, I swore an oath to do no harm. And I have just killed a man! I’m not doing that again. I became a doctor to save lives, not take them."

Sympathy hit your heart quickly as you saw him be torn apart by the actions he just had to take. Stephen might've been a bit cold, a bit uncaring in his bedside manner, but the fact remained that he did save lives and he did it well. And it was clear now that he didn't ever want to fail in saving a life, let alone be the reason for taking one. 

"You become a doctor to save one life above all others -- your own," The Ancient One Quipped. 

"Still seeing through me, are you?" Stephen asked as he got closer to her. 

"I see what I’ve always seen -- your over-inflated ego. You want to go back to the delusion that you can control anything, even death, which no one can control. Not even the great Doctor Stephen Strange."

"Not even Dormammu? He offers immortality."

"It’s our fear of death that gives Dormammu life. He feeds off it."

"Like you feed on him? You talk to me about controlling death. Well, I know how you do it. I’ve seen the missing rituals from The Book of Cagliostro."

"Measure your next words very carefully, doctor," The Ancient One warned.

"Because you might not like them?" he challenged.

"Because you may not know of what you speak," she clarified.

"What is he talking about?" Mordo asked, and your eyes were simply going from each talking person. He hadn't divulged this with you but now that he had, it was starting to make a bit of sense and you felt... betrayed. 

"I’m talking about her long life, the source of her immortality. She draws power from the Dark Dimension to stay alive."

"That’s not true," Mordo defended.

"I’ve seen the rituals and worked them out. I know how you do it," Stephen informed.

She didn't seem to respond to this, all she said was, "Once they regroup, the zealots will be back. You’ll need reinforcements."

"She is not who you think she is," Stephen said as he started to walk away.

"You don’t have the right to say that. You have no idea of the responsibility that rests upon her shoulders."

"No, and I don’t want to know."

"You’re a coward," Mordo said and this made you straighten up, ready to fight him. 

"Because I’m not a killer?" Stephen questioned, turning around, pressing him for an answer.

"These zealots will snuff us all out, and you can muster the strength to snuff them out first?"

"What do you think I just did?" Stephen asked, his voice getting volumes louder.

"You saved your own life! And then whined about it like a wounded dog."

"When you would have done it so easily?" he challenged.

"You have no idea the things I’ve done…And the answer is yes. Without hesitation."

"Even if there’s another way?"

"There is no other way," Mordo vowed.

"You lack imagination," he accused.

"No, Stephen. You lack a spine."

"Hey, we just had to fight for our lives here and we had no way to prepare ourselves. No one told us what we were up against here. You left Stephen defenseless," you accused. 

"We gave Stephen all the necessary tools to arm himself, but he couldn't because he was too busy arming his ego, as always," Mordo replied.

You were about to lay into him when Stephen turned to you.

"He's actually right. He was right all along. They did give me the tools, but I couldn't see them because of you." He turned to you, a sort of realization in his voice. 

"What?" you asked. 

"I was distracted by you. They warned me about that, but because of you, I couldn't focus on my work. I had to entertain you. I'm not a baby sitter. You knew we were coming here to fix my hands, but you had to make it about being soulmates again. Well guess where that got us, Y/N? In the hospital. I couldn't even focus on fighting for my life because I was too busy concerning myself with you. That won't happen again. All you've done since I met you was distract me from my one goal - getting my hands fixed and getting my job back."

You stood there, shocked to your core. 

How could he be saying this? This couldn't be true. None of this could be true. He loved you, he said he did. That couldn't have changed. He wouldn't have lied about that.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you avoided his haunting gaze. "You don't mean that."

"I don't say things I don't mean. When have you ever known me to hide exactly how I am feeling?" he challenged, knowing full well all of you in the room knew the truth. 

"Never," you whispered. 

"Right. This time is no different. You've held me back, and I won't let it happen any longer."

"Stephen--"

"Now, please. I don't like having to fight with you to get you to leave me alone. I've done it too many times, it's exhausting. So please, do me a favor, and get the hell away from me, and get out of my life." 

If he'd slapped you in the face, it would've hurt less.

He opened a portal and you saw your bedroom at Kamar-Taj. "Feel free to grab your things. You barged into my life, I suspect you can walk out of it just fine?" He raised his eyebrows at you and it took everything in you to keep from sobbing on the spot. 

For fear of talking, you just nodded and stepped through the portal. You turned to look at him, but as soon as your eyes made contact, he looked as if he hated you and he closed the portal, making you collapse on the bed in tears. 

--------------------------------------------------

After you gathered your senses, you packed all your things. You approached Wong in the library. You told him that if Stephen did anything dangerous, or reckless, or even if he went back home to contact you. He could tell you'd been crying, he looked down at your phone number curiously, but  ultimately decided to say nothing. He just agreed to call you. 

Wong helped you get a taxi to the airport and you got the first flight that would get you home. 

All you could think of was the way this felt like when Charles disappeared. That heartbreak. That crushing feeling on your chest. The way you couldn't breathe. The feeling of not knowing what you'd done wrong. 

How had everything fallen apart so quickly? Just yesterday you two were happy, blissful. You had both he and Charles. 

Now, you were returning home with one soulmate rejecting you. 

How? How coudld he do this to you? He seemed so in love. The way he held you. The way he woke up beside you. The way he stared at you as you worked. The way he did anything you asked of him, even if sometimes it took a bit of coaxing or fighting. The way he worshipped you physically. The way he finally seemed to believe in soulmates. 

How could he go from making a romantic date on the beaches of Bora Bora, and surprising you with dances in your bedroom, and teasing you at dinner time about how you ate your food to... to this. To casting you out as if you were trash after trying to save his life. You risked your life for his and it came so easy for him to tell you to get away.

He finally showed his true colors. He didn't want you. He just wanted his hands fixed. You were blind enough -- stupid enough -- to believe he wanted anything else. He just wanted someone to fill whatever stupid role he needed in his life and you were pathetic enough to do it. 

He used you and you couldn't see it. 

He had told you from the beginning he didn't want this. He wanted the control to choose a mate. Even the Ancient One had seen it. Stephen wanted to control life and death, of course he wanted to control who he loved. Maybe he lied about Christine too, about not loving her any more. 

He was wearing her watch into Nepal. You were just the buddy that tagged along.

That's all you were to him, a dead weight he wanted to rid himself of. 

Finally, you were at the front door of the mansion. You pulled out your key but before you could get it in the hole, the door opened.

Charles stood there, looking pressed and smart as always. 

"Y/N?" he greeted, highly confused as to why you were here without warning. He was thrilled to see you, but you hadn't given word you were coming home.  

You simply fell into his arms and he caught you. The sobs finally hit you, hard, and he held onto you.

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

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[criscpi]

"There he is, the beloved king of the year, the one who will take anyone to bed as long as they breathe."

I had just arrived. As usual, my friends would gather outside the clubs to complain about being single and resent those who were more successful than them.

But this time I could hear in Moyo an unheard of contempt.

"Hey there! who are you talking about?"

I approach the group.

Moyo doesn't say anything, but points to the most handsome boy on campus.

"What did Sander do to you?"

Moyo looks at me suspiciously

"You know him?"

He's been inhabiting my dreams for a long time.

"Sander? Not in person..."

I just hope I don't show too much of the blush that has suddenly sprung up on my cheeks

"Ah, his half-normal, half-fag fame precedes him..."

Before I could retort to that gigantic nonsense, Moyo walks up to Sander and starts repeating the same things in his face:

The tension is through the roof and they start shoving each other.

"Back off, I'm not interested in your judgments."

"It's not judgments it's the truth."

I approach.

And I get in the way.

"Moyo knock it off. We're here for a party. What's wrong with you tonight?"

"He fucked the girl I liked and then left her for a guy."

"So?"

"So Robbe? That's not normal!"

Enough. I was fed up.

"That's enough, Moyo."

"No, let me vent."

My hand departs without thinking and the punch that lands on Moyo is quite strong and unexpected:

"Now you listen to me: the fact that you couldn't be with that girl has nothing to do with Sander, understand?"

Moyo hits me back:

"You're defending the half-fag and not your friend? Are you from that side too? Or do you go back and forth like him?"

My nose is bleeding but I pretend not to feel the pain.

"I'm defending justice, it has nothing to do with how I feel about him because Moyo...“

I throw myself at him with an anger I've never felt.

"I've been gay all my life, but I've never said it because I have a bunch of obtuse dickheads as friends."

Moyo is clearly stronger than me, and he doesn't stop hitting me until I come out: that's when he seems to wake up, as if having a gay man around is a game changer.

"Robbe."

"You and I are done, I don't want to have friends like that...and now..."

"I've been gay all my life, but I've never said it because I have a bunch of obtuse dickheads as friends."

I stand up but I don't know how long I can keep from passing out.

"Leave Sander al..."

I couldn't. I passed out.

I'm not used to fighting. I wake up and it hurts everywhere. The place where I am I don't know, but I don't care, I just want to sleep.

"Robbe, that's your name right?"

I nod.

"Are you thirsty?"

"I throw up if I drink."

"Do you fight a lot?"

I try to open my eyes and see a blurry Sander.

I try to smile at him

"First time ever...are you Sander?"

"Yes I am...You weren't bad for a newbie...however you didn't have to..."

"No, I did have to. I was sick of hearing their talk out of time. I was sick of having to hide, friends aren't like that..."

"Right, but now it's going to take you a few days to recover. Moyo's a jerk but he's also twice your size."

“Bad start as a fighter right? Where am I?”

"At my house, my mother is a doctor and I thought it best to figure out whether or not I should take you to the hospital... your folks have been notified... I think

you will have to spend the vacations here"

The news hits me but I'm not lucid enough to understand exactly what it entailed.

"I'm sorry you have to take me on for Christmas."

"Don't even joke about that and then Robbe...you stood up for me in front of everyone. Take it as a thank you."

The phone rings:

"Robbe it's Jens... He's been calling you for hours...what do you want to do?"

"I'll answer. He's the only decent friend I have."

"Hello?"

"Robbe, how are you? Where are you?"

"I'm pretty sore but nothing broken. I'm safe."

"I'm... sorry"

"Jens, forget about it, we'll talk about it after the vacations."

"I can't move because of my injuries. And honestly Jens I need time. And I don't know if I'll still feel like seeing or talking to the others."

"I can't move because of my injuries. And honestly Jens I need time. And I don't know if I'll still feel like seeing or talking to the others."

"I understand... “

"Jens, thank you. I'll talk to you in the next few days."

I throw the phone toward my feet. This situation hurts more than the bruises.

"Robbe, why didn't you tell him you were here?"

"And risk them ruining your Christmas? No."

"Stop thinking about me."

"I haven't done anything else for months. Now can I rest some more?"

I don't know why, but I think I saw him smile.

"Sure."

Had I really been that stupid? Had I really said that thing that I had been holding in with difficulty for months and now it came out like it was the easiest thing in the world? Give me a shovel. I want to bury myself.

Maybe a couple of hours go by and Sander's mom comes in to check on me:

"Robbe how are you?"

"Sore, but the eyes seem less swollen."

Mrs. Driesen holds my head still and checks with some metal objects.

"It really looks like just bruises.... If you want you can try to get up as soon as Sander gets back."

"Where did he go? No sorry, none of my business."

Sander's mom is silent for a minute, she seems to be smiling. Everyone in this house is smiling and I think it's beautiful.

"He went to retrieve your clothes and finish buying Christmas presents."

"The presents! I had to go in the

Afternoon!"

"Robbe, I'll tell you what: if tomorrow

your eyes and legs respond well Sander will accompany you. They are bruises it's true, but they are important bruises: you almost broke yourself in several places."

"Alright, I get it, no more superheroes stuff..."

"That's right. Now rest, it's important. Then I'll check back in and we'll see if you can come down for dinner."

"Wait a minute, I hadn't thought of that but...has it been a whole night already?"

"A whole night and almost a whole day...I'm sure tomorrow will be better."

Robbe doesn't know what to think. Time has decided to move without asking him for an explanation. To the house of the boy he has had an exaggerated crush on for months.

When he wakes up he feels the urge to get up.

"Do you want to try walking?"

Sander. Was he always here with me?

"Yes...do you think it would be possible to walk all the way to the bathroom and maybe wash up a little?"

"I'll see what my mom thinks."

"Would you at least try to get me to the bathroom? I don't know how I've done it so far and I don't want to know, but I'd like to pee myself now."

Sander laughs.

"Whatever. Let me help you."

Sander helps me sit up then sits behind me and hugs me to help me get to my feet.

"Sander... Try to let go of me."

"What if I don't want to?"

I can't pretend he didn't say anything to me. Does he want to hold onto me? No, he's just afraid I'll fall. Yes he does. Handsome and kind. Practically perfect.

"I have to try to walk or I won't be able to come down for dinner. You can hug me later if you want."

Am I really flirting with him? What has gotten into me?

I try to walk and despite the twinges I manage to make it to the bathroom and do what I wished. But I hadn't reckoned on drying off and getting dressed.

"Sander... are you there?"

"Yeah sure."

"I need a hand..."

Sander helps me out of my bathrobe, dries my legs, and helps me get dressed.

He doesn't make any inappropriate jokes, in fact, he acts like a perfect nurse.

"Thank you."

"Do you want to try to get down and eat at the table?"

"Yes, I think if I don't start moving it will be more and more complicated."

Taking the stairs: what does rib pain have to do with taking the stairs?

"Would you... give me a hand, will you?"

"Tell me what to do"

"Just give me your hand."

Sander's hand in mine. Christmas was an underrated holiday.

"We're almost there."

We finish up the stairs but our hands don't decide to pull away. In fact, my thumb begins to lightly and shyly caress the back of Sander's hand.

Until his mother's voice forces us to break the moment.

"Ready to eat?"

"Yes, my stomach is starting to ask for food...thank you."

"Don't mention it, Sander told me what happened...we owe you."

I blush.

"Actually the stupidity of my friend and

Sander's strength to be himself, gave me the strength I needed, even to say who I really am."

Dinner had been perfect, Sander's eyes on me as I tell them about myself made me lose my train of thought several times; I hope they thought these mental lapses were due to Moyo's punches and not to the fact that I'm totally in love with Sander.

But now fatigue is setting in and Sander walks me to the bedroom.

"Sander, is this your bed?"

"Technically yes. But I sleep anywhere don't worry."

"Where exactly do you sleep?"

"Here, next to you..."

"Sitting?"

Sander looks embarrassed.

"Well last night yes. I was definitely anxious about you. But tonight I'm going to make myself a bed."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I won't let you sleep on the floor."

"You can't move from there."

He was right.

"I feel bad."

"You don't have to, I'm telling you I sleep everywhere."

I lie down in Sander's bed.

Sander's bed! I hadn't thought of that before. My dream had come true.

Not exactly how I wanted it to but,... let's think about something else. Christmas presents.

Sander brings a mattress and pulls it closer to the bed, sets it up and after several minutes in the bathroom slips under the covers.

When everything is shrouded in darkness I start talking:

"Would you take me to get the presents tomorrow?"

"Yes"

"Sander..."

"Tell me"

"I'm sorry about Moyo."

"Forget it. He’s hurt you more than me. In every way."

"Yeah...are you going to spend Christmas with your boyfriend?"

"That depends."

"On me?"

"Good night Robbe."

"Night."

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 30

I tried another new style for this one. It's not one that I would want to use for a fic any longer than this one, but it was interesting to do and I thought it worked pretty well for this. It certainly allowed me to include a longer span of time without writing a forever long fic. Nothing at all is graphic in this, but you should still check the warnings because there's a lot packed in.

Also, you don't even know how close I came to leaving it on Day 31. But I decided to be nice. You may thank me in the comments.

Read on AO3

Read on FFN

Day 30 (No. 31) - Experiment

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: dehumanization, all of the following is referenced, not shown - human experimentation, muzzles, mild blood, needles, teeth pulling, respiratory distress, seizures, burns, broken bones, electrocution, surgery

.

DAY ONE

“New specimen, coded KK5738. Male, approximately twenty-one years old. Mother is full-blood Galra, father was full-blood human. The subject takes on the appearance of an Asian male - white skin, black hair, eyes...vary from grey to violet, depending on lighting. Height is approximately five foot eight inches, weight approximately one-hundred-forty pounds.

“We will begin with a general examination.”

.

DAY TWO

“You can’t do this! You will not get away with this! You people are sick! You’re all going t-nngh hnnghaah!”

“Subject KK5738 continually exhibits aggressive behavior, despite its restraints, including shouting and attempts to bite myself and my assistants. Measures are being taken to prevent this from happening any further.”

.

DAY THREE

“X-rays show that most of the subject’s internal organs are the same as a full-blood human. However, there appear to be two or more extra organs of unknown function, adjacent to the liver and intestines. Further examination is needed. Exploratory surgery has already been scheduled for next month.”

.

DAY FOUR 

“The subject possesses the most fascinating blood I have ever seen. Results from the first sample have come in, which are detailed in Report 659. Today I will be taking several more samples for further testing.

“I will also be taking skin and hair samples. The skin sample will come from the inner right arm.”

.

DAY SIX

“I don’t know how you think you’re going to get away with this. I am a U.S. citizen. I am the leader of Voltron! Yo- hhha.”

“Subject KK5738 still shows defiance whenever given the opportunity to speak, though it seems to have weakened since the first day. This is probably due to the amount of time it has spent immobile.

“Currently its typical mouth guard has been changed out for a surgical gag so that we may extract teeth without being bitten. We will also be testing its jaw strength.”

.

DAY NINE 

“That was the last injection.”

“Thank you. As will be detailed in Report...ah, 668, Subject KK5738 has now received the first twelve of the substance injections that we plan to test. Substances one, four, and seven caused no noticeable reaction. Substances...two, three, eight, and ten caused mild external reactions, as detailed in the report. Substances five and nine’s reactions were internal, monitored via MRI. Number nine we did have to administer an antidote to prevent further damage. Substance eleven caused the subject to vomit extensively. Substance number six had the most dramatic reaction, garnering the use of an epipen, and it appears that substance twelve will be similar. I’m seeing signs of respiratory distress already, and -”

“He’s seizing.”

“Alright, go ahead and give it. So the subject showed the most sensitivity to substances six and twelve. Specific symptoms will be listed in Report 668.”

.

DAY THIRTEEN

“Daily monitoring of the various wounds created on Subject KK5738’s thighs. The superficial cut through the first layer of skin has nearly disappeared. The one millimeter deep cut has completely scabbed. The five millimeter cut has finished sealing up, but has not yet started forming a scab. The two centimeter cut is still open, with no visible change. 

“The first degree burn is still peeling slightly, but the redness is no longer noticeable. The second degree burn is possibly slightly less red than yesterday, but the blisters have not changed. The third degree burn shows no visible signs of healing.

“Once everything is fully healed, tests will be performed to ascertain the damage to nerve and muscle in these areas. Unfortunately, it does not appear at this time that the subject has any accelerated healing abilities that could be useful for advancing our technology.”

.

DAY FOURTEEN

“Subject KK5738’s oxygen deprivation test showed that it can last thirty seconds longer than the average human male before losing consciousness. Further tests will have to be performed to determine why.”

.

DAY SEVENTEEN

“Aaahngh!”

“We have just concluded our breakage tests for Subject KK5738’s bones. This included a finger, rib, radius, and femur. The exact pressure needed for each bone will be recorded in Report 682. Bones will be reset, and healing will be monitored.”

.

DAY TWENTY-FIVE

“So far the subject has responded well to the nutrient drip that it has been on since the beginning. Starting today we will be removing one of the nutrients...ah...protein, so that we can study the long-term effects. In a human, we would see swelling of the abdomen and extremities, as well as muscle weakness, brittle hair, and ridges in the fingernails. Maybe one day I’ll be able to run these same tests on a full-blood Galra for comparison. For now, we’ll have to see what this hybrid can tell us.”

,

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT

“The subject seems to have calmed, or perhaps weakened, to the point where the mouth guard is no longer necessary. We will, of course, keep it on standby in case this changes, or we require something to muffle its screams.”

.

DAY TWENTY-NINE

“Please...please stop...I don’t...I don’t want it.”

“We are applying electrode pads to key points on the subject’s body so that we can proceed with our electric shock test.”

“Please, I just...I wanna go home.”

.

DAY THIRTY-ONE

“Today we are monitori-...A-admiral! Sir!”

“At ease, Doctor.”

“What a pleasant surprise! To what do we owe the honor?”

“The hybrid specimen, of course. You’ve had it for a month now, and I’ve been keeping up with your reports religiously. I decided it was high time I come see it for myself.”

“Of course, of course. Well, here it is. Quite the specimen, is it not?”

“Well, it’s like you said...pretty much looks like an Asian kid.”

“True. But as I’m sure you’ve seen in my reports, there is so much that is un-human about it. I honestly can’t believe it got away with passing for human for as long as it did.”

“I...am human. And you...you people are monsters.”

“Hm. I see you’re letting it talk.”

“Yes, sir. It seemed unwise to keep the mouth guard on it for such an extended period of time if it could be helped. I’ve been tempted to put it back on, to be sure, but I imagine that after a while of seeing that talking doesn’t get it anything, it will stop.”

“You’re just as bad as the Empire...you know that? You can’t...keep me here forever. Someone will find me.”

“And just who is it that you think is even looking for you, hm?”

“Admiral, sir, I -”

“No no, don’t worry. I think this could help you with your little talking problem. Lieutenant, pull up the article for me.”

“Voltron is looking for me. My team...they’ll find me.”

“Your team thinks you’re dead. The whole world thinks you’re dead. Here, see this? ‘Black Paladin Killed in Crash to Earth’. This article is from a month ago. No one is looking for you because you didn’t make it to the hospital alive. Your Galra mother identified your body. You were cremated. Your funeral was two weeks ago. It was quite the touching ceremony, you should have seen it.”

“It appears you have sent KK5738 into shock.”

“Maybe it won’t be quite so talkative anymore.”

.

DAY FORTY-FIVE

“I must admit I have been looking forward to this day since first setting eyes on Subject KK5738’s X-rays. Currently we are prepping the subject for surgery by cleaning the torso where the incisions will be made. I’ll be starting with a Y-incis-...pardon me. What is going on out there?”

“Everybody step back! Hands up where we can see them!”

“What in the -...who are you, and what do you think you’re doing in here? This is a high level security facility -”

“I am Commander Takashi Shirogane, and these are the Paladins of Voltron. Now drop the scalpel and step back away from our friend.”

[wonderful-writer]

15 - Great Escape

Summary: Tensions run high as Clarke and Y/n still don’t trust Mount Weather. Upon the reveal that an officer with severe radiation burns is nearly healed less than a day later, the girls make a break for it and discover a secret that Mount Weather has been hiding for years.

Word Count: 3.43k

Based Off: 02x02, “Inclement Weather” & 02x03, “Reapercussions”

The next day, you and Clarke sat on her bed, trying to figure out the map. “It just doesn’t make sense. No exits, no emergency plan, nothing.”

Jasper looked over the rail of her bed and said, “It’s not bad. Maybe they’ll hang it up on the walls here one day.”

You smiled at your brother and he smiled back, turning his attention to the door as Miller and Maya walked through. 

“Miller,” Clarke said, sitting up on the bed with you. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You gave a short wave to him, which he returned. “Yeah. It only took, what, 3 surgeries?” 

“I hear you guys are fitting right in.” His tone seemed upset, puzzling you. Clarke looked to Maya and she looked away bashfully before handing a bottle of pills to Miller.

“Twice a day, don’t forget. You’ll be okay in a few days.” She slipped the duffel bag off of her shoulder and handed it to him, turning to Jasper and walking away, while Miller put his bag on the bunk next to Clarke’s.

Not long after, alarms startled you and the other delinquents as maya turned and made her way out of the room. Clarke stopped her and you got to them in time to find out that the alarms meant that someone from the patrols had returned injured.

You and Clarke turned to follow her, but Jasper grabbed you by the wrist and spun you both around. 

“Hey, Y/n, what are you doing?”

“Maybe they found survivors. If our people are hurt, we have a right to know.” 

“I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t just go wandering around.” 

You both had left before he could properly finish his sentence, following after Maya. Jasper ran to catch up with you.

“Who attacked them?” Clarke asked the man who was briefing Maya.

“What are they doing here?” He asked the girl.

Clarke turned and took the keycard from the man behind her, pressing it to the keypad beside the door.

“Stop! It’s not safe!”

“It is for us.” You said, walking through the door with Jasper. 

You ran down the long hall with Clarke, passing paintings as you went. She stopped as the hallway ended and split off into two directions. 

“Guys, slow down!” Jasper called after you. You ignored him and followed Clarke into the first door on the right. “Stop pushing so hard, these people are--”

He stopped himself as he saw the body on the table, covered  by a clear plastic sheet. You and Clarke looked at the wound, before she continued Jasper’s sentence.

“Are lying to us. That’s a bullet wound. Grounders don’t use guns.” 

“Unless the grounders got the guns from us,” Jasper tried. 

“I don’t think so.” You stepped in. “I think our people are alive out there.” 

You turned around with Clarke to see what Jasper was looking at, when Dr. Tsing and two other men, all in hazmat suits, brought in a man covered in blood and burns from the radiation. Another man in a hazmat suit led the three of you out of the room and the quarantine ward, back into the regular halls of Mount Weather. 

Jasper went back to the 48’s living quarters, while you and Clarke went to the dining hall to confront Dante.

“We need to talk.” Clarke demanded.

“Sure. Let’s talk over breakfast.” The man agreed.

“Who shot that soldier?” You asked abruptly. 

Dante guided you and Clarke to the corner of the room to talk privately. “The patrol that was looking for your people was attacked by what you call grounders.”

“We’ve fought grounders. They don’t use guns.” You explained.

“I never mentioned guns.” Dante defended. “Sergeant Shaw was shot by an arrow.” 

“That’s not true. I-I saw the wound.” Clarke countered.

“Sometimes, we feel so strongly about our people we see things that aren’t there,” Dante told  you. 

“We’d like to see the body.” You asked. 

“Of course,” Dante smiled and went to put his plate away. You looked at Clarke with suspicion about the situation, her looking at you the same way. Both of you knew something was going on and were determined to figure it out. 

“Come with me.” He directed you back to the quarantine ward and you waited in an empty room for Dr. Tsing to bring in the body.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” She said as she wheeled in the gurney. “We had to finish decontamination.”

She stood next to Dante as you and Clarke stood beside one another on the other side of the gurney. 

“Thank you, Dr. Tsing.”

“The man with the burns,” Clarke brought up. “How is he?”

“He’s improving,” Dr. Tsing told her with a little bit of hesitation.

“We would like to talk to him,” You mentioned.

“Sir,” She addressed the President. “Only patients are allowed in medical.”

“We can arrange that,” Dante told you. Dr. Tsing pulled down the sheet to Sergeant Shaw’s waist as Clarke pointed to the round object sticking out of his chest.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a dialysis shunt,” Dr. Tsing replied. “We all have them in case of exposure.”

“Would you like to see the exit wound?” She asked you. You and Clarke nodded and she began to pull Sergeant Shaw's arm to get his body on it’s side, showing you the exit wound.

“Sergeant Langston was forced to push the arrow out in the field.” She and Dante, who helped hold the body, let go as she went to the cupboard behind her to retrieve the arrowhead.

She showed it to you and Clarke, who seemed to begin to believe the fact that she only thought she saw a bullet wound, but you didn’t. If Sergeant Langston was forced to push the arrow out on the field, why would they still have the arrowhead? Why would he keep in to give to the medical staff instead of leaving it where they put it after it was out?

After that, you went back to the living quarters, which were much less lively than this morning. Jasper approached you and fell in line with your walk.

“What did President Wallace say?” He asked.

“He showed us Shaw’s body.” Clarke told him. “It looked like an arrow wound.” 

“Maybe because it is an arrow wound?” 

“Or that’s what they want us to think.” You suggested. “What? They could have doctored it.”

“Y/n, you sound like a crazy person. Why do you want to screw this up for us?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. The arrowhead was still bloody when they showed it to us and they said they had to push out the arrow in the field. No one keeps the arrowhead of an arrow if they’ve already removed it from a body.”

“And we don’t even know what this is.” Clarke said.

“This is… safe. This is food, a real bed, clothes, and my personal favourite-- not getting speared by grounders. How long do you think they’ll let us stay here if you two keep this up?”

“Did someone threaten you?” Clarke asked him.

“Heh, no. No. It’s common sense. Look, we’re guests here. Not prisoners. What would you do with a guest who kept calling you a liar and generally acted like an ungrateful ass?” Jasper asked.

“Kick their ungrateful ass out.” Miller responded from his bed without looking up from his book.

“Right now, our biggest threat to us is you guys.” With that, Jasper walked away and left you and Clarke standing there. You didn’t feel like a threat. You knew these people were lying to all of you. You and Clarke just had to prove it to everyone.

Later that night, the 48 were all hanging around in the dining hall, doing their own things. Music played and everyone chatted while you and Clarke sat in chairs near the entrance, her holding the map she drew. Frustrated, she balled it up and threw it in the trash.

“Langston,” One of the guards said, catching your attention. “Where are you going man? Tonight’s movie night.”

“I gotta pass. Doc says I got one more treatment.” He replied. Just a few hours ago he was red and covered in burns, how had he looked almost untouched by the radiation now? 

You looked at Clarke, wondering if she saw the same thing. She followed Langston and you followed her, watching as he got in the elevator to go to medical before heading back to the living quarters. 

“Only patients are allowed in medical,” She muttered, looking at the sharp corner of the bunk bed. You nodded at her from the other side and she removed the bandage from her arm as you did with yours, running your arm across the corner, cutting your stitches as Clarke did. 

You could’ve reopened your stab wound, but cutting it with the edge of the bed would have been really hard to do and you couldn’t have reached it by yourself. However, the cut on your arm proved to be enough as Clarke collapsed soon after she cut herself. You weren’t bleeding as much as her, but you extended the cut further than it was, passing out a couple of minutes after. 

After the bandages were placed on your arms, you and Clarke woke up, watching as Dr. Tsing walked to the door at the other end of the room and scanned her keycard to go into the restricted room. 

Clarke got out of her bed and you followed, watching her try to wake up Langston, but to no avail. The burns on his hands and face were no longer as bad as before, also noticing that his dialysis shunt was in use, pumping blood into his system. 

Your eyes followed the tube from the machine and into a pipe, following said pipe along the wall, until it disappeared. Clarke tried opening the door that led to the other room, but it was keycard activated. You took a step back and noticed a vent, just beside the door.

“Clarke,” You whispered, pointing to the vent once she turned around. You opened it, using all of your upper body strength to climb into the vent, Clarke following after. You crawled the length of it, pushing the opening on the other side until it clattered to the floor, allowing you to get through.

The first thing you heard was the mechanical whirring and a ventilator hissing, realizing what it was for when you looked around. Two people hung from their feet, monitors and wires connected to them as they were unconscious. You noticed a tattoo on one of their bodies, marking them as a grounder. 

Tubes were taking their blood and circulating more back in, bringing you and Clarke to the same realization: They were using grounders for their blood.

You turned after Clarke called your name, seeing even more grounders in cages, moaning in pain. They reached out to the two of you as you passed their cages, watching Clarke bend down to one of them. You did the same, recognizing who was in it as you bent down.

“Anya?” You and Clarke asked. 

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” Clarke assured the woman as she struggled with the lock. After she couldn’t get it open with ehr bare hands, you and her walked away to find something to open the cage with. 

Clarke found an electrical pipe and ripped it from the wall, using it to break the lock open. You opened the cage door while Clarke started helping Anya out of the cage. Dr. Tsing came into the room and caused you to panic, Clarke pulling herself into Anya’s cage with her while you hid at the end of the cages, praying she wouldn’t see you. 

As soon as she was there, she was gone, and You moved from your hiding spot to meet Clarke and Anya and help support Anya by putting her other arm around your shoulder like Clarke had done. You made it over to one of the doors that said it was the end of the containment area, entering a room with no other doors. The doors behind you slid closed and you began to panic as Clarke attempted to pry them open. 

An alarm similar to the one from when you tried to leave started to blare and Clarke stepped away from the door, back to where you and Anya stood.

“What is that?” She asked. 

“I don’t know,” Clarke responded. The floor gave out beneath you and all three of you began to fall, sliding down some sort of chute. You landed among more bodies, most of them still breathing. Barely alive, but alive nonetheless. 

You three began to panic, getting out of the body ridden cart, while Anya stayed sitting, checking to see if the boy in front of you was still alive. 

“Anya, take my hand!” Clarke yelled. Anya accepted and pulled her out of the cart, landing on a railroad. 

“We’re out.” Clarke said, noting the door that would lead us back into the mountain. You looked around and saw what looked like a pile of clothes, moving towards it. 

“Hey. Come on, get dressed.” You said, kneeling down and picking up the clothes. “We’re not going to cover any ground dressed like this.”

Clarke followed, picking up some boots and sorting through the clothes as Anya still rested on the cart.

“I won’t leave my people behind.” She said. 

“Anya, listen to me. My people are still inside that place, too,  but they have guards. They have weapons. Once we get out of here, we can find help. We can come back.” Clarke assured her.

“There is no ‘we’.” Anya snipped. You heard voices come from the other end of the tunnel and Anya noted that someone was coming.

“Not just someone. Reapers.” Clarke said. Anya went to pick up a boulder to fight, but Clarke argued that she could barely stand. 

“I have a better idea, come on.” You got into the empty cart on the tracks, helping Anya get in while Clarke threw the clothes into it. She hopped in and you all closed your eyes as the reapers approached the cart, tossing the bodies from the cart you fell into along with you three.

The cart began to move, wheels creaking as they moved along the tracks. You tried your best to stay still and keep yourself covered as the reapers hauled one of the bodies from the cart and away from you. You heard him scream and Clarke got up to check if the reapers were distracted, which they were.

“Okay, come on.” 

You and Anya sat up, but she went over to the other person laying in the cart.

“What are you doing? Let’s go.” Clarke asked, keeping her voice low. 

“Yu gonplei este odon.” Anya whispered, snapping the man’s neck and saving him the misery of being torn apart by reapers. 

You moved to get the clothes out of the cart with Clarke, jumping out and moving back down the tunnel without being seen. You got dressed as you ran, Clarke cursing as you couldn’t find your way out.

“Damn it! This place is a maze.” 

Anya coughed and stopped running for a few moments, giving you time to shrug on the jacket you found. “What are they doing to us?”

“They’re using your blood.” You responded. “We saw a soldier come in with radiation burns; hours later, he was fine.”

“It’s like your blood is healing them somehow.” Clarke told her. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Come on, this way.” You and Clarke started walking again and Anya went the other way. You turned around to catch up with her. “Hey, what are you doing? That’s the way back to the reapers.”

“You go your way, I’ll go mine.” Anya said. 

“Anya, we need to stick together,” You told the woman. 

“I told you, there is no ‘we’.” 

“I saved your life.” Clarke rebutted.

“You saved my life because you need me.” Anya corrected her. “I know the way back to your people. I know where the traps are hidden. You’d never make it alone.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Clarke decided, turning back around with you. “Our best chance of making it out of here alive is together. All we need to do is keep moving and hope—“

She turned and saw no traces of Anya, causing the both of you to whisper her name and go the way she went. You turned around once more and started running when you saw firelight, indicating that the reapers were coming. 

You kept running through the tunnels, pausing every little bit to catch your breath and check to see if reapers were behind you. You stopped abruptly when a reaper started towards you both from the direction you were running in. You went to the natural light on another pathway, but another reaper stopped you, and you turned around and saw even more coming from that direction.

It was safe to say you were trapped, and likely going to die. You backed yourselves up to the tunnel wall as the reapers closed in on you, but as a high-pitched ringing filled your ears, the reapers cowered away and covered their own. You and Clarke looked to your left to see two guards in hazmat suits. One with a flashlight, and the other holding the device that caused the sound.

“Get the hell away from them! Now!” The reapers started to run away and the one holding the flashlight turned to you.

“Clarke Griffin and Y/n Kane, you’re coming with us.”

The guards led you back to the door and as you approached it, Clarke began to speak. “I saw everything. I know what you’re doing to them.”

“That’s why you’re both going in the harvest chamber with them.” The guard told you. 

“Alpha-Delta 2, we’ve reached the intake. Two prisoners in custody.” He spoke into the intercom.

“Your mission was to bring back three. The outsider cannot be allowed to leave this mountain. Alpha-Delta 1 is coming out now.” A voice came from the intercom. 

To your surprise, Anya jumped down from somewhere you couldn’t see and attacked the guard that held you. Clarke grabbed the mask from the man who was at the intercom, leaving him to the radiation. 

“His mask!” You shouted. 

Anya pulled the mask off of the other guard and told you she found a way out. You both followed her back down the tunnel, but not before Clarke grabbed the discarded gun. You ran just as more guards came through the door. 

You both ran with Anya, stopping at an opening that led to a very far drop into water. 

“Wait, there has to be another way!” Clarke yelled over the rushing water.

“There isn’t,” Anya shouted back.

“Just give up, girls. You have no place else to go.” The guards shouted as they aimed at the three of you.

Anya looked between the two of you and jumped down into the water, Clarke calling her name as she went.

“We don’t have to kill you two. Do you hear me? It doesn’t have to end like this.” The guard told you. “Just surrender.”

You and Clarke kept looking from the guards to the lake below, weighing your options. Clarke dropped her weapon and you put your hands up, walking towards the guards. As they looked away you turned and ran, jumping into the water with Clarke, when everything went black.

You woke up again on rocky terrain, coughing up the water that had entered your lungs. Clarke was beside you doing the same thing, and Anya beside her, waiting for you to finish. You rolled over and sat up, hearing Clarke thank Anya for saving her.

“I think we should go back to the dropship first.” Clarke suggested. “So I can see who my people--” Anya smashed a rock over Clarke’s head and straddled her. 

“We’re not going back to your dropship. You killed 300  of my warriors. I can’t show my face without a prize.” She tied Clarke’s hands together with rope and then did yours, you putting up no struggle to void getting hurt any further.

She hauled you both up and tied a longer rope to both of your bound hands, dragging you along like you were her pet. You didn’t know that this was what was going to happen when you escaped Mount Weather, and now you had to try and fight your way out of another bad situation and try to get home. 

Taglist:  @soullessbabee​ | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis​ | @dummythiccwitch​ | @sireddobrev​ | @gxvrielle​ | @hurricane-abigail | @holyhumorliteraturelight

[19mrs-barnes17]

As Long As I Can Get - Chapter Five: Wounds Heal

Summary: “Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed. It means the damage no longer controls our lives.” - Unknown

Part: 5/5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (AU)

Warnings: supah cute

Word count: 3,001

A/N: Thanks again to @wxntersoldiers​ for beta reading! This chapter is dedicated to @cantnkrusshedevil​ for helping me to map out the details of this story’s plot.

~

A cool breeze blew through the tall grass, flower petals ripping from their stems and flowing into the wind somewhere out of sight. The cool brushing across her skin and ushering in a sense of calm to her frantic mind. The sun was setting and sending golden rays across her body and through the blades of grass. Soon the color has disappeared and she is left with the light of the stars, constellations twinkling within the dark navy net of the night sky. 

She feels peace for the first time in a while. Her eyes fluttering shut for a moment to take in the feel of the night air against her skin. 

This was her favorite place in the town. An empty meadow, well empty in the sense of human structures and beings. The only place where you weren’t likely to run into anyone, but you might spot an animal wandering about. A place of serenity and peace where she could simply be.

This was where she had come to understand her emotions since she was young. But she was just as lost as ever, stuck in a state of confusion and only one way to find an answer. She knew what she wanted, but she didn’t know if she had the strength to go out and get it. Or if she even could.

She was scared, but she wouldn’t let fear drive her to make a mistake. Fear had already caused far too much damage in her life and she was ready to break free of it. Instead, as cliche as it may sound… She wanted love to take the spotlight. 

~

“James? You there?” He could hear Y/N’s father from his room, his sluggish movement resulted in louder pounding upon his front door. But he had heard Y/N’s voice in his head chastising him about throwing on a shirt before answering the door and was momentarily delayed.

“Can I help you?” Bucky squinted at the man, fighting off a yawn as he leaned against the door frame.

“Y/N wasn’t answering her phone, some nurses were trying to get a hold of her to see if she’d pick up their shift. So I went to her apartment to see if she was alright. But...” Bucky straightened his stance, eyes landing on the phone in his hand. It was Y/N’s. “I have looked all over town but I can’t find her.”

“Look, she’s a smart woman. She’s probably just out clearing her head and left the distractions behind. The fact that it was in her locked apartment bodes well.” Her father nodded, relief flooding his face. “I’ll go to our spots and see if I can find her. Just wait for that to ring or buzz, ok?”

“Thank you.” He pauses for a moment, eyes saddening. “I never should have told you what I did. That’s not my job nor my business and it was wrong of me. But in my defense I become a little bit irrational when it comes to my daughter’s happiness, too paranoid about every little thing.”

“I know. But I never should have listened in the first place.” He left her father standing on his front steps as he made his way to the closest of the locations. “Go ahead home, I’ll find her in no time.

It was becoming dark as he went to location after location without success, his mind running through a list of possibilities. One came to mind and he felt like an idiot for not looking there first, it used to be his place to hide from the suffocating monotony of the town. When he met Y/N that changed, he showed her his private oasis so she could get away from the watchful eyes of her parents. It soon became a place they shared, one used to relax and calm their minds.

It had been ages since he had been to this field, seen these flowers and the tall grass in person. He had almost forgotten its power. His mind already felt less troubled as he began to scan the area. His eyes landing on a discrepancy in the tall grass and flowers.

The closer he got the more he noticed there was an inward bend in some of the grass as though someone was laying atop of it. When he saw an arm reach toward the stars he sent a text to her phone, a single word, before pocketing the device. Safe.

Bucky knelt by her head, his hair hanging over her as he shook her lightly. She responded instinctively with a fist to his nose. He fell onto his back with a grunt, holding his nose with his fingers as a little bit of crimson leaked between them. 

"Oh shit. I'm so sorry." She was hovering over him within seconds, eyes wide with panic until her training began to kick in.

"Never apologize for defending yourself. I'm the idiot who should have announced himself." He chuckled softly as she moved his hand to inspect the wound, eyes softening at the sight. Her fingers gingerly caressed over his throbbing nose before furrowing her brow and scrunching up her face as though she was brainstorming a plan.

"Good news is I didn't break it, the bleeding should stop really soon. It might swell a little but it isn't bleeding too bad." She pulls off her jacket and holds it beneath his nose, pinching the bridge between her fingers. "Sit up and tilt your head back."

"Guess it's a good thing I got punched by a nurse." He smiled a dopey smile as she held the jacket in place and shook her head.

"You're an idiot."

"Guilty. But at least I'm an idiot who loves you." She froze, eyes meeting his before a bright smile suddenly broke out on her face. 

"A lovesick idiot."

"Just what the doctor ordered." She shoved his shoulder and fell onto his back, her hand still attached and nearly dragging her all the way down. Hovering over him she carefully wiped the remaining blood from his face.

"You should be fine now, just ice it when you get home." She moved to stand but he grabbed her hand.

Bucky sat upright and patted the ground next to him before lying back down. She reluctantly complied, turning her head to the side so that she was looking him in the eyes. Something in her eyes had his insides turning to goo, heart racing in his chest.

"Stars are up there." She smiled softly and shook her head. "I may be an idiot, but I'm fairly certain about that one."

"Not my star." He furrowed his brow, absolutely perplexed by her comment. “It’s never been in the sky.”

"Alright, I'll bite where's your star?" She smiled and tapped his nose with her finger before giggling. "I'm not a star you goofball."

"Why not? We're all made up of atoms from previous stars aren't we? So why shouldn't you be my star? You do exactly what the North Star does after all." She returned her eyes to the sky but he couldn't stop looking at her. 

"And what's that?" He knew exactly what she was implying but he wanted to hear her voice say it aloud. Because if she said it, then he wouldn’t be so afraid to chase after this feeling she had him obsessing over.

"Remind me that I'm never alone." She smiled softly as her eyes fluttered shut, her chest slowly falling and rising as though she was blissfully unaware of how her comment had him reeling.

Bucky could not comprehend how someone could say something so profoundly heartfelt in such a casual manner. As if it was the easiest thing in the world. As though it held no more significance than any other endearment. To him it meant everything. Those few words made him fall all over again and he couldn't care less whether they had a whole lifetime or only a year.

He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

Her eyes remained closed as he moved to hover over her, a hand beside her head on the grass as he leaned in. His lips soon received a response from hers as they began to move together. Her hands making their way to his hair giving it a little tug which elicited a moan from him. 

Kissing her was like finally breathing that first breath of fresh air after months of breathing in smog. Euphoric. She tasted like chocolate and serenity. He just wanted to feel this rush forever, to taste her lips as often as possible and never let her go.  

One hand on the grass and the other beneath her, pressed against the small of her back. He held her close as his lips moved against hers, her tongue sliding inside as she once more tugged at his hair. She had him wrapped around her finger.

Y/N had a power over him that left him completely at her mercy and he didn’t mind that one bit. He almost forgot the necessity of air until she pulled away and rested her forehead against his. 

"Now I'm really mad at you." She laughed breathlessly as her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. "I've been missing out on that for over 10 years? You selfish bastard, learn to share."

Bucky couldn't help but let the laughter bubble up from his chest as his forehead fell onto her shoulder. 

"M'sorry." He mumbled against her skin causing her to suck in a breath. At this he smiled and pressed a kiss to her exposed collar bone after shifting the strap of her tank top. 

"Evil, how could you keep this talent to yourself." She tilted her head back with a smile, eyes closed as she propped herself up on her elbows. "Should be considered a crime."

"You don't wanna know all the thoughts that just popped into my head." Bucky moved to sit beside her but she straddled his waist and wrapped her arms around his torso. 

“Tease.”

Burying her face in his neck she left Bucky smiling like an idiot up at the stars. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her neck. She felt so perfect in his arms that he couldn’t believe he had ever denied himself the ability to hold her close to him. He may have never known the feeling of her lips on his or the way her hands in his hair could drive him so wild. To think he could have never known those feelings, such unbridled joy and love, was simply improbable. 

"I am never leaving you again. No matter how much time we have." She pulled back enough to look him in the eye. "I want you by my side for the rest of my life."

"I've never wanted forever. I only want as long as I can get with you."

He pulled her in for a kiss seconds after the words left her lips, smiling deeply into the kiss. 

~ 

When she woke in her bed with her head resting on his chest she smiled softly to herself. It was still hard to wrap her head around the fact that this was even happening. 

She never expected him to move back into town, let alone admit that he was actually in love with her and couldn't bear the possibility of letting her watch him slowly lose all of his mobility and functions. All this time he was simply terrified to put her through the suffering his family went through. Never realizing she went through it with them.

He hadn't noticed how much his hurting hurt her too. How watching him fall apart made her want to help him piece himself back together. But then again, she never noticed how he never stopped caring. How he kept tabs on her through Steve, though his letters. Or how he had kept a photo of her that he got from Steve in his breast pocket throughout his service. So that she was always with him.

Her heart swelled with joy as she closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. But when her stomach growled she was slipping out from beneath his arms and waltzed into her kitchen, eyes scanning in her fridge. 

Before she could turn around arms wrapped around her torso and pried her away from the fridge. She groaned in protest as he used his foot to shut the door, lightly smacking his forearms as he dragged her back to the room. 

“Uh uh, you know where the good stuff is. Put on some shoes and a jacket, we’re going to the diner.” She stuck out her tongue but complied, sliding on a light jacket over her tank top and slipping on some flats. 

“You go to the diner in pjs?” He nodded as he slid a hoodie on over his wild mane. She forced him into a seated position on her bed, standing between his legs as she gently guided his hair into the elastic band. His hands rested on her back and held her close and he messed with his hair, his face buried in her tank top. “All done, you can release me now.”

He shook his head and she chuckled softly, caressing his cheek before moving his head back. 

“So needy.” He gasped, throwing a hand over his heart. “And dramatic.”

“Takes one to know one.” He stood and pressed a kiss to her lips before taking her hand and leading her to the door. 

“Yeah but you know you love me.” She sent him a wink as she locked the door behind her and he shook his head. “Liar.”

“Mhmm. Yeah, yeah.” She smacked his shoulder as they descended the steps. “Okay, okay. I love you. I do.”

“Gee how heartfelt.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her flush against his chest, pressing her back to one of the walls on the landing. Her eyes watching him curiously as he cupped her cheek.

“I will always love you.” 

“Okay Celine Dion.” 

“I’m serious Y/N.” She placed a hand over his and pressed a kiss on the palm of his hand.

“I know. I love you too you idiot.” He shook his head as a smile tugged at his lips.

“Talk about heartfelt.” His arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned forward, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Like poetry.”

“Mhmm.” He met her halfway, lips moving with hers as her heart began to race with adrenaline. 

“As much as I would love nothing more than to drag your ass upstairs and continue this I am actually very hungry and will kill if not fed.” She didn’t wait for a response as she dragged him along, opting to drive to get there faster.

“You are very violent when hungry.” 

“Aw you think this is violent for me? Adorable.” He made a concerned face as she pulled into the parking lot but she ignored it, rushing to his side of the car and shoving him into  the diner and into a booth.

“My god you’re here early.” Becca sat on a stool smirking at her best friend, eyes betraying her confidence with a hint of surprise. 

“Evil man wouldn’t let me eat from my own fridge.” Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“He came between you and food and he’s still alive. Damn.” Becca chuckled as she slid off the seat and came over to take their order. “Last time a guy did that he almost got a black eye. But judging from your nose you didn’t get away scott free.” 

“No that’s from yesterday when he snuck up on me.” Becca shook her head with a furrowed brow, shrugging her confusion aside to work. “Don’t care just feed me now you beautiful human being.” 

“She’s very flirty when you give her food on an empty stomach.” Y/N just sent a wink in response before returning her face to Bucky’s bicep. “Usual Bucky?”

He simply nodded, eyes stuck on Y/N who was attached to his arm. No way he was getting that back until her food arrived so he used his right hand to hold out his cup and sip on his coffee. Becca returned with his plate and turned around to grab Y/N’s but it wasn’t quick enough because she smelt the food. He lost a piece of bacon as a result, but he regained 

use of his arm so it wasn’t a total loss.

“Oh thank god, I can refrain from murdering you.” She mumbled before taking a bite of her french toast. 

“Oh goody. I’m so grateful.” 

“You’re welcome.” She pecked his cheek before returning to her meal, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“You are by far the strangest person I have ever met.” She laughed heartily before turning to face him.

“Bull. You’ve met Denise and Hilda. Also your sister.” He sat silent for a moment before nodding. “But I am definitely your favorite. Don’t worry I won’t tell Becca.”

“How thoughtful.” Bucky’s heart felt full as she smiled at him, giggling like a complete goof. 

If this was what the rest of his life looked like, then he didn’t care how long he was given in the end. As long as he has her at his side as long as he can get her. She was all he needed, and his reason to never leave. He finally faced his greatest fear: letting himself fall in love with her no matter the result. And he was beyond grateful that she had fallen for him just as hard. 

What he didn’t tell her last night was that she had always been the one he imagined gazing at the star at the same time he did. Because with her, he knew he was never alone.

~

Tags: @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​ @asphalt-cocktail​ @cantnkrusshedevil​ @gstran18​ @navegandoaciegas @just-trying-to-survive-marvel

[jobethdalloway]

Tidings of Comfort

*filled another prompt by @thepriceisrizzoli!

~*~

For such a small box, it contained so many big dreams. 

It was small, humble, and its red color was pleasant in contrast to the snow drifts partially covering the welcome mat Angela had foisted on Jane. The open air hallways were a constant source of complaint for the older tenants in the building during winter, but Jane had thought and Maura agreed that so long as it was well-maintained, it brought a little festive cheer to the place. Slowly she started to back away, knowing that it would be too easy to just stand here forever staring at the gift box and that meant there’d be a good chance Jane could randomly walk out of her apartment at any time and see her there with it. She couldn’t be here when Jane saw it. Waiting to hear about it would be agonizing, but it would be more agonizing to watch as Jane read the card and opened it.

Okay. Nice and easy. Simple. Cute. Not stalkery, right? No. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Now just back around the corner and

OH SHIT AHHH OH NO AH SHIT

Maura’s attempt to make a quiet escape were thwarted not only because she slipped on some snowy stairs, but because the stream of profanities that zipped through her mind after her pep talk wound up slipping out, quite audibly, as she banged down the stairwell. She managed to stop the downward momentum by grabbing hold of the railing, and it was only after the faint echo of her body banging against the stairs and her resultant yells had died out that she let herself take a breath. On the one hand it didn’t do much for her faith in humanity that no one had come out to see what had happened, but on the other hand, it would’ve been mortifying to be found like this right after—

“Whoa, everyone okay out there? Are we laughing or are we calling first responders?” 

Jane’s face popped over the railing, and she looked stunned to see Maura lying there. “It’s okay,” Maura wheezed. “I’m a doctor.”

“Geez! What happened, are you okay?” Jane asked, hurrying down to meet her. 

“I’ll be fine,” Maura said, though this was belied by her inability to stand up without assistance. “I’m okay, don’t mind me, I’m just going to take off.”

“Take off? Wait, you just got here—did we have plans I forgot about?”

“No,” Maura said miserably. She hoped it was cold enough to warrant a red face, because a blush would blow her cover. “I was just thinking it’d be nice to see you, since you’ve been off work prepping for your deposition and then giving the deposition, so I was on my way up and, well...” Just enough of the truth to mislead Jane to a false conclusion.

It wasn’t in Maura’s nature to make spontaneous visits, and Jane would’ve pushed her for details if she wasn’t concerned about the fall. “Well, that was very kind of you, and I’m so sorry! Our super is usually on the ball when it comes to snow on these stairwells. I mean the halls are okay, at least. Are you sure you’re all right? Let me help you up, we can get you relaxed on the couch and watch a show or something.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“But weren’t you on your way here anyway? Come on, you’re not embarrassed, are you?” Jane chuckled. “I mean, you’ve seen me make three-point landings just trying to successfully navigate a curb on a rainy day. Hell, remember that time I was telling some rookie to shove off and I turned and face-planted over the tape into a crime scene?”

“Oh, gosh, I’d forgotten that. You almost compromised so much evidence.”

“Yeah. So I don’t wanna hear about embarrassment. C’mon, pal, you’re coming with me.”

With surprising strength, Jane took hold of Maura and started guiding her up the stairs. The forcefulness of her movements were coming from a place of wanting to be helpful and keeping Maura safe from the prospect of falling again, but as they neared the top of the stairs, Maura couldn’t help feeling like she was being strong-armed to her doom. Maybe if Jane hadn’t seen the box when she’d come out in the first place, she wouldn’t see it now... 

But no such luck.

At the top of the stairs, Jane noticed the small, intricately wrapped gift near her door. “Huh, what’s that?” 

“Well! Look at that,” Maura heard herself saying. “It seems to be a present?”

She leaned purposefully towards the door, which Jane nudged open. “It’s got my name on it,” she muttered, picking it up. 

“Maybe one of your neighbors left it,” Maura said. “Just—just now, I mean, when you were coming to my rescue. Did you see it when you came out a minute ago?”

“No, but it looks like I might’ve knocked it out of the way when I opened the door,” Jane mused. She glanced up and apologized when she saw Maura leaning weakly against the doorframe. “Hey, sorry, let’s get you inside. And might I suggest more practical boots the next time you go out in the snow?”

“Fair,” Maura sighed. They’d gotten to the couch and Maura hunched over to remove the boots, but groaned in pain half-lean.

Jane had been about to inspect the mystery gift, but dropped it on the coffee table at the sound of Maura’s anguish. Though Maura protested, Jane shushed her and knelt on the floor, untying the boots. Wanting to be as sensitive as possible to Maura’s pain, Jane removed the first boot with utmost tenderness, using her free hand to hold Maura’s stockinged leg steady. As Jane’s hand slid down with the progress of the boot, Maura felt goosebumps erupt that had nothing to do with the cold.

“That better?” Jane murmured, joining her on the couch. “C’mon, let’s see what this is about.” She picked up the small package from the table, and Maura might’ve lunged for it if that wouldn’t have sent her into spasms of pain. “The card is almost as big as the package,” Jane chuckled, unfolding it. She raised her eyebrows at the length of the note, and glanced at the bottom to check the signature. “Huh. That’s weird, it’s not signed.”

The panic churning through Maura’s veins halted, but new anxieties cropped up. She’d forgotten to sign it? How could she have forgotten to sign it? Maybe this was better. Maybe now she could try to plead ignorance. This had been an embarrassing slip of judgment and this had been a stupid idea and oh no was Jane reading the note now? Would it sound like it was from a stalker if it was anonymous? 

“You don’t have to read that,” Maura blurted out, and Jane looked at her, surprised. “I mean, um, I mean I think that might be one of Emily Post’s rules. If a card isn’t signed, you aren’t obligated to, um...”

“I’m not obligated, I’m curious,” Jane said.

“Wait,” Maura said, getting an idea. “Jane, you should be careful. An anonymous package left on your doorstep? With a long, creepy letter?”

“What makes you think it’s creepy? It’s not written with like, cut-out magazine letters. You saying I should call up a bomb squad to make sure there’s not a tiny explosive in here?”

Maura's impulse was to say yes because the distraction might help her make a stealthy getaway from this embarrassment, but her conscience wouldn’t allow it. “No, I’d just think you might want to be a little more careful. I mean, what does your gut say about unmarked packages?” Oh, no. This was bad. How could she be trying to scare Jane like this? Was that really worse than the humiliation she might feel at being found out and having her note rebuffed? “I-I’m not trying to frighten you, I just want you to be cautious.”

Jane pursed her lips. “Maura, nothing you do could frighten me.” 

“Not even...” She tried and failed to come up with an extreme example.

“No, not even if you suddenly started teasing your hair, quit your job, married Steven Tyler and joined Aerosmith.” 

That at least got Maura to laugh. “Steven Tyler? Oh, did your mother make you sit through the Liv Tyler episode of Who Do You Think You Are, too?”

“Yes, and it was very inspiring,” Jane said, returning to the note. “Maybe this is a DNA kit she sent me. Call it a gut feeling, but I don’t think this gift is intended to be a threat. Listen to this note.” She cleared her throat and held out the paper with a flourish: “‘Dear Jane: every time the holiday season comes around, I try to be good about remembering everything I have to be grateful for. You often get lumped in there when I say I am grateful for my friends, but it’s high time I singled you out specifically. I am so thankful for the friendship and solace you provide me. You’re fierce and first to defend me in my moment of trouble or need. Your wit and laughter sustain me and never come at my expense.’” With a rueful laugh, Jane glanced at Maura. “Guess this can’t be from you, huh? I think I’ve been making one too many jokes at your expense lately. I’m sorry about that.”

A lump had risen in Maura’s throat, and she tried to tell Jane it was all right, but couldn’t speak, so she merely shook her head.

Jane continued, her voice a little more reverent now: “‘When we part, there is no sadness because our bond is always there. You’re not just my friend; you’re a gift both precious and rare. In reading over this note, I’ve realized it sounds like a love letter, and I admit that made me pause to wonder if I should attach it at all. I didn’t set out to make it sound that way at first. Then I figured it might be dishonest to continue acting as though these feelings hadn’t been brewing for some time. I apologize for sounding mushy, but I had to make these growing feelings known and hope that the knowledge of their existence isn’t a burden to you in any way. Merry Christmas.’” 

She flipped the note over again, as if this time the back of the paper wouldn’t be blank. Maura tried valiantly to temper her wildly beating heart, but to no avail, and so instead focused on keeping her breathing regulated so as not to arouse Jane’s suspicions. 

“Wow,” Jane whispered. “Sounds like I’ve got a secret admirer, huh?”

“Not a stalker?”

“No,” Jane chuckled. “A stalker would go more into physical details like, ‘the column of your throat drives me to the brink of insanity,’ or ‘your eyelids look like they would be delicious additions to my favorite beet salad.’” 

Despite herself, Maura had to laugh. “Oh, that’s sick. Why do I encourage you?”

“Because you love me. And I love you.” Jane said it with a shrug and a teasing tone of voice, petrifying Maura with her casual confidence. “Face it, pal. You’re stuck with me.”

Maura was torn between wanting to laugh with her, and wanting desperately to confess everything and tell Jane the letter was from her. She was starting to falter under Jane’s gaze, which was soft but searching. Maybe too searching.

Thus, Maura’s response to Jane’s touching sentiment was to ask, “Could I make use of your bathtub?” 

“My...”

“I’m still feeling a little sore from my tumble down the stairs, and I think a little hydrotherapy might help.”

This wasn’t a lie, really; Maura was sore, and she often used warm baths as a way to soothe aches and pains. She hoped that by the time she got out of the bath, Jane would’ve had time to move past the anonymous gift and they could converse about something totally different. Or maybe she’d have turned on the TV and forgotten all about it the ludicrous emotional display. Maura didn’t stop to consider how suspicious this abrupt semi-departure made her look. Jane got her a set of pajamas to change into, and Maura started the water.

A few minutes in, the bath was indeed helping to relieve some of Maura’s physical pain, but emotionally she was still in a rather anxious state. This wasn’t helped much when, about ten minutes later, Jane started talking to her from the other side of the door. 

“So, why didn’t you sign it?”

Maura almost thought her heart stopped. She didn’t know what to say. Could she pretend she hadn’t heard the question? There was a soft shifting sound, as if Jane was sliding down the wall to sit outside the door. 

“How’d you...what makes you think it was me?” Maura finally asked.

“Few things. I know your handwriting, for one. It’s beautiful, precise. It’s so much nicer than mine, and I’ve always admired it. For another thing, I just stepped outside to see if I’d maybe missed another tag or something that fell off. There’s a little bit of snow right on the edge of the hallway, and I saw tracks that look like your boot prints, coming up the opposite side of the stairs as the side I dragged you up after your fall. And, well, you seemed really uncomfortable with this situation instead of wanting to help me solve it, which is what I’d think you’d normally do.”

It was almost tempting to laugh. “I should’ve known better than to think I could get away with fooling a detective.”

“That’s not all, though,” Jane went on. “See, I don’t... I don’t have a lot of friends. Definitely not enough close ones who’d have been able to write such a nice note about me. Too nice, because I do make jokes at your expense too often.”

“You really do,” Maura sighed, and that got a weak laugh out of Jane. 

“Well, look, um, this isn’t a joke to me. I promise. I think that was really brave of you, and really sweet.”

Maura didn’t know what to say to that, so she just asked, “Did you open it?”

“Open what?”

“The...gift?”

“Oh!” Jane laughed. “That’s so weird, I didn’t. I didn’t even think about it, because I already got my gift.”

“What do you mean?”

Jane sobered up. “The gift was the note. The gift is holding this note in my hand, as concrete evidence that you feel the same way I do. And—”

“WAIT!” 

There was a loud splashing sound now as Maura flailed to get out of the tub. Now that she knew it was safe to have this conversation face-to-face, she needed to be able to see Jane while they had it. She had to be able to see even the most minute changes in her countenance, had to ensure that the promising words Jane was saying were in fact coming out of her own mouth and weren’t some part of an elaborate ruse. It killed her that she had to make her reappearance with slightly damp hair, hastily put up, and old pajamas that didn’t flatter her figure, but she didn’t have the luxury to be precious about her appearance at the moment. Jane never seemed to mind.

She opened the door, and Jane was leaning against the wall, arms folded patiently and a serene smile on her lips in the semi-dark hallway. 

“So...are we really gonna do this?” Jane asked. “Are you going to be able to handle me?”

“Handle you? I should think being your best friend was a pretty good primer.”

“I know, but that’s what I mean. I mean, now you’re gonna be hearing things from me a lot more often. My filter’s gonna disappear.” 

Her demeanor put Maura at ease, allowing her to tease back, “Was it ever there?”

Jane took a step away from the wall and Maura’s breath caught in her throat. “I mean the filter that’s always kept me from telling you things like how beautiful you look. I know that it’s not like I’ve never told you that before. But I’d second-guess myself a lot so you wouldn’t think I was more into you than I should be. Like, I knew I couldn’t lay it on too thick or compliment too many individual things at once. Which I’d do right now, but I just established that cataloguing beautiful things about a person piece-by-piece can sound serial killery, so...”

Maura had been trying to keep her own smile in check, but couldn’t contain it when the joke made her laugh. She stepped forward as well, bringing them almost toe-to-toe, and reached out. Jane took hold of her arms, gripping them for support.

“You’re trembling,” Maura observed.

“Yeah. Yeah, and I can’t believe you’re not, what’s the deal?” Jane asked with a shaky laugh. “Sorry, I just got kinda overwhelmed just now. I’ve seen you in pajamas, even my pajamas before, I’ve seen you fresh out of a bath or shower before, and thought nothing of it or tried to think nothing of it. Now it’s like this veil has been lifted. I don’t want to come on too strong all of a sudden.” She pulled Maura into a hug. “And I’m going to do my best to live up to that beautiful card. I want to make you as happy as you’ve made me. You make me so happy, Maura, you make my heart so happy.”

All Maura could think to do besides whisper “me too, me too” was hug Jane back as hard as she could. They lapsed into a short silence as they stood, embracing each other in the hallway. Strangely, the urge to do anything more didn’t strike either of them right away; it was already too overwhelming just having gotten to these initial declarations, like going from zero to a hundred and twenty in nothing flat. Maura in particular needed a minute to process, and Jane seemed to intuit this:

“Sorry if that was a weird conversation to start while you were in the bathroom,” she said, and Maura laughed again. “I just thought, I dunno, you seemed skittish and maybe the better thing would’ve been to ignore it altogether but then I thought maybe you only got that nervous because you worried your feelings weren’t returned and I wanted to reassure you. Either way, I hoped keeping the conversation semi-private would maybe be helpful for you. It was just killing me sitting out here alone and thinking about it.”

“Thank you for being brave enough to bring it up when I just wanted to run away,” Maura said. “Although part of me also wonders if you didn’t just want to show off the fact that you’d figured out it was from me.”

It seemed the charitable thing to avoid bringing up (again) that it hadn’t been hard to solve, so Jane pivoted and replied, “Well, there is still one thing I’m hung up on.” She shifted out of the hug, pulling Maura’s gift box from her back pocket and opening it. “Why’s it empty? Is it like a metaphor?” In a cheesy deeper voice, she added, “A metaphor for how empty your life was before you met me?”

Maura’s mouth fell open and she smacked her forehead. “I’ve really outdone myself tonight. I forgot to sign the card and I forgot to actually put the gift in the box! Oh, my gosh. I was really, really nervous. Please pardon the hyperbole, but my mind must’ve been miles away.”

“Didn’t it feel light to you?” Jane chuckled, giving the box a shake before returning it to her back pocket. 

“I mean, it didn’t weigh much, it’s just a—”

“Ah, ah,” Jane cut her off. “Don’t spoil the surprise! You can still give it to me later. Although I’m sorry to disappoint you, whatever it is, it’s not gonna be even a close second to the gift of learning that you’ve been pining for me since day one.”

“It was not day one,” Maura scoffed, rolling her eyes affectionately. “I should cut the suspense now and just go get it.”

“Okay, so how about this,” Jane mused. “As amazing as I think you look in PJ’s, I assume you wouldn’t like to go out in them—I mean, further out than your car. Why don’t you go home and change, I’ll get cleaned up, and you can come back here with your amazing gift and we’ll go out to celebrate, um... whatever it is we’re doing here.”

“I think you look gorgeous as is,” Maura said, tugging the hem of Jane’s sweater, “but otherwise, I really like the sound of that plan.” 

Jane opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out of it when she felt Maura’s hand graze her backside. A shaky breath escaped her when Maura tightened her grip, and then Jane realized she was just taking her time extracting the gift box from Jane’s pocket. Seeing the response this small action elicited was incredibly exciting, and Maura was reminded of one of the only things she could remember her mother saying about love: that it was like friendship set ablaze.

“A sensitive spot for you, hm?” she murmured. “Good to know.” 

Jane almost tripped trying to follow Maura to the door. “I look forward to finding out yours.”

“Somehow, that’s another mystery I don’t think you’ll have much trouble solving,” Maura said.

Maybe Jane was the one who would benefit from a minute to process. Their everyday banter had just shot forward into something immediately more flirty than usual, but it didn’t feel weird. What actually caught her off guard was how natural it seemed. This all still felt surreal to her as she watched Maura gingerly put her boots back on, and reach for her coat. She was consumed by warmth, even as Maura opened the door and let the wintry air in.

“You be careful on those steps now,” Jane said, leaning against the doorframe. “Use the railings, grandma. Wouldn’t do for you to take another tumble.”

“No, I daresay it wouldn’t.” 

Maura’s heartbeat ratcheted back up again when Jane leaned towards her. She left a soft kiss on one cheek, then the other, and then a quick peck to the forehead. 

“Just so you’re prepared,” Jane said, pulling back and glorying in Maura’s smile. “There’s gonna be mistletoe hanging over this door when you get back.”

Speeding in winter wasn’t safe, Maura knew, but what the hell. She was already feeling reckless tonight.

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Behind the Marriage - Harry Styles Series (Part 35)

Part 34

The soft sound of Harry’s voice broke you out of your slumber. You roll over in bed, to see him sitting on a chair in the bedroom with his guitar in his hand. The babies were laying in their bassinets making little noises as he softly strummed his guitar and sang to them. You smiled as you watched him. 

The four of you had been home for a week now and just like you thought your lives were changed completely. Your days consisted of feeding, diaper changes,  laundry, and a few minutes of sleep here and there. Even though you were exhausted and still healing from the delivery, you wouldn’t change a thing. Harry looked over, noticing you were awake and he quickly stopped. 

“Sorry,” he winced. “Did I wake you?” 

You nodded, sitting up, “Yeah, but it’s okay.” 

“Damnit,” he sighed. “I tried to be as quiet as I could.” 

“Harry, it’s fine,” you smiled. “It was nice to wake up to that then screaming babies.” 

He smiled a bit, “True,” he said. “I changed their diapers a bit ago and I think they’ve fallen asleep again.” 

You laughed, “But only for about twenty minutes because it’s almost time to feed them.” 

“How’s that going?” He asked. “I know you’ve been having some issues with that.” 

“It’s going...” you sighed. “I don’t feel like I’m producing as much milk as I should be, especially with twins.”

“What’s the doctor saying?” He asked sitting the guitar down and walking over to the bed. 

“Weelll,” you said looking over him. 

“What?” He asked. 

“She said I could have a clogged duct which could be why I’m feeling pain and producing less milk,” you said. 

“And how do you fix that?” He asked. “Will you need to go see here?” 

“Actually, she said that you could help with that,” you said. 

Harry cocked an eyebrow, ”How is that exactly?”

“Apparently, part of what could be going on is that the babies don’t have enough strength to suck the clogged milk out, but you could possibly...” you said. 

He didn’t respond at first, but then all of a sudden a cheeky grin forms across his face. 

You rolled your eyes, “This isn’t supposed to be a sexual thing,” you laughed. 

“I know, I know,” he said trying to turn serious. “If you need my mouth, it’s yours baby,” he smirked. 

“Oh my god,” you shook your head. 

“What?” He laughed. 

“Nothing,” you laughed getting up from the bed. “Come with me.” 

**

Later that day, you were sitting in the nursery feeding little miss Ameila Rain Styles while Harry was holding her little brother, Finneas Edward Styles. You were producing a little more milk than you were before Harry helped you out, but you still weren’t producing enough. You were worried about giving them enough milk, so for now you two were adding in some formula bottles to help until you figured out your milk situation. 

“I still can’t get over their tiny hands,” Harry smiled as little Finn’s hand was around Harry’s finger, while he slept. 

“I know,” you smiled kissing Eila’s head. “They’re everything I could have hoped for.” 

“I wonder if we’ll still say when their teenagers,” he joked. 

“Depends on which one of us their like,” you smirked. 

“Hey! I was a perfect angel,” he defended. 

“I wouldn’t exactly use the word perfect or angel,” you joked. 

“Do you hear that Finn?” he gasped. “Your Mummy is trying to be funny, but she’s not.” 

You rolled your eyes,” And your Daddy is trying to act like he was a goody two shoes when he and I both know he wasn’t.” 

“Hey, to be fair you didn’t know me then, so how do you know?” He smirked. 

“Photographic evidence,” you smirked. “And Gemma and I may hav bonded a little bit over our joy to annoy the shit out of you.” 

“I feel severely ganged up on,” he groaned. 

“darn,” you smirked. 

When you finished feeding Eila, you sat her up against your arm as you gently, but forcefully hit your hand against her back to help her burp. All of sudden, she let out a big burp from such a little body. You and Harry both looked at her with wide eyes before letting out a little laugh. 

“At least that didn’t come out the other end,” he joked. 

“And if it does, it’s your turn Daddy,” you smirked.

“It’s always my turn,” he whined. 

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who was all, since you have to carry them for nine months and go through labor, I’ll change the diapers as much as I can,” you mocked. 

“That was before I knew how many times a day they both shit,” he groaned. “And how gross they are,” he added with a bit of a shudder. 

“Well, those were your words,” you smirked. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “When can we potty train them?” He joked. 

“Not for a few more years,” you smirked. 

“Fuck me,” he whined. 

**

After dinner, you and Harry were on the floor of the living room. Music was playing softly in the background and the babies were laying on their backs, looking around with wide eyes. Since they spent most of their days sleeping, it was nice getting to share a moment with them awake. They moved their little arms and legs around looking at you and Harry. 

“They seem unsure of us,” he laughed tickling Amelia’s tummy. 

“They do,” you laughed. “They’re like who are these people and why are they so close.” 

“So, my mom and your mom called earlier,” he said. “They seem to be bonding over your parents stay, which is great, anyway, they talked about coming over tomorrow with breakfast and keeping an eye on the babies while we get some rest. I told them they’re more than welcome to stop by.” 

You nodded, “I’ll be looking forward to getting a few hours of sleep all together,” you laughed. “That is if I can actually stay asleep. I keep finding myself waking up every so often just to check on them.” 

“Me too,” he said kissing the top of her head. “It still blows my fucking mind that we made these two and they’re apart of both of us.” 

You smiled, “I know,” you said. “I can’t believe that I could love someone this much. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love you with everything I have, but what I feel for them, it’s indescribable.” 

“I know exactly what you mean,” he smiled looking over at you. “As soon as I heard their little cries, my heart grew so fucking much.” 

“I’m so glad you didn’t pass out,” you giggled. 

“One time,” he laughed. “That was one time.” 

“And I’m always going to bring it up, don’t you worry,” you smirked. 

“I’d be shocked if you didn’t,” he said. 

You giggled turning your gaze back down to the babies, who were now both fast asleep. You and Harry smiled at each other before laying down next to them. He reached over to place his arm on you and you did the same with yours as you both laid there as a family until it was time to feed the babies again. 

[thedeviltohisangel]

He’s A God, He’s A Man: 2

If she had known who would be at the window, she might not have looked.

masterlist is my url/writing

send me your thoughts

Lydia thought the quality of air in New York was rough but Birmingham was giving that thought a run for its money. She held a handkerchief over mouth and nose as she stood in front of the two family home that would be half hers for however long this operation took.

It was already decorated upon her arrival but there were things she needed to change in order to feel at home. She would need at least one place in this city where she could feel safe.

----

Sitting at his desk in the betting room, Tommy was haunted his most recent encounter with Danny. The power the war still had over all of them was startling. Tommy did his best to cope with it but shutting out all of his emotions. It was the only way for him to possibly survive. As far as he was concerned, the Tommy before and during the war no longer existed nor had he ever. That Tommy had lost everything. Had been beaten down to the point of submission. He was stronger now because of it. People parted on the street when he walked down it because he had had the strength and the will to push aside who he was to be who he needed to be.

Arthur had brought the mention of an Inspector arriving in Birmingham to the family meeting just a couple hours prior. Tommy had heard the mumblings and whispering of the streets. He was known for being ruthless. The way he had been cleaning up Belfast without mercy had travelled faster than the train he had arrived in on.

He knew Pol was starting to get agitated by the new Tommy. The cold man who spared her fleeting glances with barely any humanity behind them. She had been the only one to ask him about the silver ring around his neck. Tommy thinks she was the only one with the guts to. He had simply told her it tied him to the past. That everything that made him weak was trapped inside the metal, never to escape. 

The ring in question was tucked under his bed with his pipe and stash of opium. The drugs were to help him sleep and the ring and a letter from Lydia for when he couldn’t. The whole box was a secret to everyone in his life. His American nurse was near a secret as well. Occasionally, one of his siblings or his aunt would whisper about the girl Tommy loved in France. Whisper about the man he might’ve been if she had been on the train with him that day. Tommy thought about that too. The dreams had been more vivid when he had first come back but now they were nostalgic. He couldn’t remember the pain in his side that had brought him into her care in the first place. Only remembered being healed and happy. Then Birmingham had torn open all his wounds. The Peaky Blinders became his source of healing. They numbed him. The lack of regard for life and death, lack of caring what the man standing across from him meant to someone else. Only caring how he would help him meet his ends.

Tommy knows that men like him don’t get to live long. Don’t get to ever be truly happy.

Then there were the guns. He had a sneaking that it wasn’t communists the Inspector was looking for but him. Polly had told him what to do. It was the sensible, safe thing to do. Which is exactly why he wasn’t going to do it. Expansion was always playing at the edge of his mind. Now was as good a time as ever.

----

Lydia held her white gloved hands in front of her as she eyed the pub from across the street. The more she had sat couped up in her new apartment, the more she had thought about getting a job. She had worked and had her own income for as long as her parents would let her. There was something about earning that made her proud. Straightened out her back and squared her shoulders. It was a man’s world both before and after the war. She had heard from others that during the war had been different. Women had rolled up their sleeves and gotten their hands dirty and made sure the world kept spinning while men fought leagues away. Lydia had heard the call to join the cause in France. She didn’t regret it for a second. She regretted coming back more than anything. The value she held overseas had been paramount. She had flitted from wounded man to healing man with ease and made them all feel comfort as they transitioned on and off the battlefield and from life to death. Fuck every doctor in New York City that had told her she didn’t have the proper education to do the job. That she was just a volunteer. An imposter. One day, she would prove all of them wrong.

“Hello, sir, how are you this afternoon?” She slid off her gloves, holding them both in one hand so she could extend her other to the man who was sweeping broken glass on the floor.

“Who are you?” Lydia retracted her hand quickly.

“Someone in need of a job.” 

“Right. Be on your way. I haven’t the patience for swindling today.”

“I’m afraid we misunderstand each other. I read in the paper this morning that you were looking for a barmaid. And I happen to be looking for a source of income-”

“With silk gloves?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “Look, miss, the type of client I host here, not the type you wish to be associating with. They’d eat you alive.”

“I was a nurse over in France. I know how to hold my own against some soldiers.” He looked at her like she really had no idea the kind of clientele that frequented The Garrison. Maybe they were soldiers once. But now they were Peaky Blinders. No way of knowing how to defend yourself against the likes of them. “How about we do a probationary run? If I am not able to do it, then we can go our separate ways with no hard feelings. Just give me a chance. Please.” Lydia had learned young that men who bend to her will if she made herself seem smaller. If she played into the gender subservience they expected from her.

“Right, yeah, temporary. Tomorrow afternoon.”

Lydia walked in for her first shift at The Garrison with a crowd already filling the chairs and the air with their laughter and loud voices. Harry was expertly pouring multiple drinks at once behind the bar and keeping the alcohol flowing so the coins could continue to drop onto the bar top.

“Here, let me.” Lydia took the glass out of his hands and continued to fill it from the tap without breaking a sweat.

“Nice little trick there, love.” She flicked her eyes up quickly to meet the ones of the man at the bar. He winked back at her.

“What’s the use of a pint if it isn’t the perfect pour?” she questioned. As someone who frequently sought the comfort of a cold drink, she had learned exactly how it soothed pain easiest. It was a wonder she hadn’t found a job in a pub sooner. If the world didn’t trust her nursing expertise, maybe they would trust her expertise in drinking.

“Now I’ll say-” The man was interrupted by the gentle knock on the window next to the tap. Lydia had assumed it was a private room for VIP clients of the pub but she was curious as to who exactly would be back there. The man she had been talking to at the bar was now deathly silent. “Best attend to that request, miss.” Furrowing her brow, Lydia pulled open the frosted glass.

It was better she hadn’t been prepared for who would be on the other side. She might not have ever opened the window and seen. It was as if every emotion she had experienced for her entire life came together to crash into her. She felt confusion at seeing the new lines that were etched across his face. Anger that he hadn’t looked for her, anger that she had been forced to spend this much time away from him. Curiosity as to what her Thomas had been up to that had him hiding in back rooms of a pub. But the prevailing feeling pumping through her veins was one of longing. Longing to be back in that cramped bed in France where everything seemed so much simpler. Perhaps even back to when she thought Tommy was dead. When she didn’t know how much she had been missing.

“Tommy,” she breathed out. He showed nothing at the sight of her. For years he had been trying to convince himself that Lydia was never real to begin with. That she was just a trick his shell shock had been playing on him. A coping mechanism to deal with what he had seen. What he still saw. But the woman looking at him through the window looked an awful lot like he had dreamed. Her cheekbones were a bit more prominent and her hair not as curly but it was Lydia. His Lydia.

“You’re dead. You’re not real.” He shut the glass doors to the bar. He must be sleeping. He must have taken too much opium. And there was no way he was about to have trouble breathing with his bloodied brother waiting on Watery Lane.

Lydia pressed her hand against the glass where Tommy had just been. Maybe she had dreamt it. Maybe this whole experience had been one long, realistic dream. Perhaps she had allowed herself to be tricked into believing Tommy Shelby still walked this earth.

“Lydia? Whatever order comes through that window is on the house, got it?” She nodded at Harry, thinking she might vomit if she opened her mouth to respond to him. The sound of a glass breaking across the pub jolted her out of her state of shock. Without a word she grabbed a bucket and a broom to go and clean up the mess before one of the men hurt themselves and made a bigger mess. You’re dead. You’re not real. His words haunted her. Tommy probably thought she had died after the fire when she made no contact and never found him in Birmingham after all this time. How did she explain to him that she had gone this whole time thinking he was dead?

With a huff, she got down onto her knees to pick up the tinier pieces of glass that were evading the broom. Just as soon as she had dumped the little pile into the bucket, a hand roughly grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up to her feet.

“You, of all people, should never be kneeling on a dirty pub floor.” After the first time she had laid eyes on Thomas Shelby, she had described his eyes as hauntingly beautiful to the other nurses. That hadn’t changed.

“It’s really me, Tommy. And it’s really you.”

“You still a nurse?” The way he shut down the conversation she was trying to initiate slapped her across the face.

“Technically-”

“Don’t have the time. You’re coming with me.” Like a rag doll he dragged her through the streets before stopping in front of his home on Watery Lane. Lydia had heard plenty of stories of this place during the war. How the whole family Shelby lived under one roof. The shenanigans that ensued because of it. 

Tommy had told her about each of his family members in depth. How she would love Pol, their intellects above his own. That Ada was dying for another girl her age to hang around with. That Finn would be following Tommy around like a shadow but how he was the sweetest boy and Lydia could help teach him how to read and write. Arthur and John would no doubt protect her like their own sister. 

But now, standing in front of the house she was going to come home to after the war and on Tommy’s arm, felt odd. She had dreamed about this house and the people inside it for so long that she feared learning the truth.

“I’m a trained nurse!” Lydia assumed it was Ada’s voice she heard coming from the kitchen as she entered with Tommy and the bottle of rum he had plucked from the bar.

“Pay no mind, Ada, I’ve found a nurse who did more than one first aid class.” The entire Shelby family looked at Lydia like she was a ghost. In a way, she was.

“The photograph,” Polly whispered.

“Do you have some tape? His thumb is broken,” Lydia asked as she began to roll up her sleeve. She plucked the rum from Tommy’s hand, sparing him a glance, before taking the rag from the hands of his sister. She figured the best way to get Tommy to talk to her was to take care of his brother first. Then she could at least make the argument that he owed her.

“I’ll go grab some,” Ada murmured as she stared at Tommy. He seemed to be taking this incredibly well. Her and Polly had sat by the fire before and talked about the girl in the picture Tommy thought he kept hidden from his family in the desk. The girl who had he had given a matching silver ring to.

“You’re the American nurse. From France,” Arthur pointed out as she offered him the bottle.

“Yes. Now drink.”

@aveiangdon @odetostep

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 34

Last time: Detective Kimblee got curbstomped, nobody wears hats in freezing weather, and the contents of The Mighty Armstrong’s letter shall forever remain a mystery. Onwards!

Inside Fort Briggs, Ed is shocked to learn that having a metal limb attached to your flesh in subzero weather can be hazardous to your health, he’s being treated for exposure. A spiky-haired blonde doctor’s talking about how the cold freezes flesh and unoiled automail will stiffen.

So do all automail Briggs soldiers carry around oil cans, then? Like Buccaneer, who just came into the med room complaining about Al’s head being stuck in his chainsaw-arm. Apparently northern automail- Hold up, is it just me or does this new guy in a labcoat who’s working on Buccy’s arm look like Havoc? Eh, maybe it’s just the cigarette. -northern automail is flexible, lightweight, and resistant to the cold, so they worked out an alloy. And here Ed was just trying to transmute iron, makes sense a blend of metals he’s not consciously trying to manipulate would resist him. Aw, Buccy has an actual automail arm while his chainsaw is getting worked on. I was hoping for shoe-tying shenanigans. After the obligatory “wait this kid’s equivalent to an officer?” moment the Doc recommends he call for Winry to make a cold-weather arm. If he wants to live, that is. Also, that’ll be a hundred cens for the coffee thank you. Hmmm, maybe Ed should do some research on the place he’s going next time? I get that he’s used to Central military life, but the North seems to run on different rules. Still doesn’t keep him from being irritated. [Major-General Armstrong]: “Hello, little red runt.” Major-General Armstrong; so intimidating that when she nicknames our height-sensitive protagonist after a fairy tale he’s too frozen with fear to respond. And then the mechanic returns Al’s head with his “hair” left a scraggly stump? This day is not going the Elric Brothers’ way. Episode 34 - “Ice Queen” ...as much as I like Major-General Armstrong so far and you lot seem to worship her, I have a lot of favorite characters who have taken the title “Ice Queen”. Let’s see how she stacks up against them. Taking a seat at a small desk (I thought it was hers to show off an austere lifestyle or whatever until that picture of North Doc’s family, guess she commandeered the office for a bit), Major-General Armstrong asks how her brother Alex is doing. Aw, she cares! Except for snarling after the brothers say the big strong guy they know and love is doing great? (Please tell me she has a height complex with her little brother, please tell me she has a height complex with her little brother…) Anyways, time to explain why they came north. They can’t say much though, while they want to eventually deal with Uncle if they talk about the Goths it could reach the Fuhrer, and then Winry (and Riza) are in trouble. The brothers decide to just talk about the quest to recover their bodies, tracking down May to the north. Major-General Armstrong… calls them Trouble Magnets and tells them to GTFO of her fort. Except that’s what she’d “like” to say but her interest in Alkahestry trumps her irritation with the protagonists. Knowledge is power, and knowing a skill that’s little understood in her home country could be useful in defending its borders. Another weapon for the arsenal… Hoo boy. Al protests that Alkahestry is specialized for medical healing, Major-General Armstrong snaps that- [Major-General Armstrong]: “My job is far more perilous than yours. I will make use of any knowledge that I can get my hands on.” Ok then. I’m getting that people like her attitude and all… but I’m kinda concerned about that line. If her immediate reaction to Alkahestry is “how can I weaponize this”, I’m worried what Major-General Armstrong’s opinion on Philosophers Stones would be. Major-General Armstrong declares that she’ll track down May while the Brothers stay inside the fort, telling Major Miles (is that Sideburns-Guy who’s been by her side all this time?) to put them to work. No work, no food, capiche? Then down the corridor she goes with Buccy, talking about how they’re still “soft and weak”, and that they haven’t told her everything. Major Miles/Sideburns is leading the Brothers somewhere, Ed tries to engage him in conversation but he stays silent. Ed gripes that they keep getting asked questions but don’t get any answers, when Sideburns stops and- Ishvalan! Sideburns is Ishvalan! Ok then! While it’s common knowledge that Ishvalans were purged (yeesh) from the army before the War of Extermination, Sideburns is half-Ishvalan so apparently got to stay in the military as Ed’s country destroyed that of his grandfather. Ed lets out a shaky breath and says Sideburns’ people destroyed the countryside, and one of them murdered his friend’s parents. The two stare eachother down… until Sideburns chuckles? A test? Ed didn’t give him the response he’s used to (shame and pity), but it’s understandable given his complicated relationship with Scar. Wait, attempted kidnapping? When did Scar try to kidnap you, as far as I can remember all your interactions were either trying to kill each other or you using him as Goth Bait. Sideburns seems pleased with Ed’s views, ushers him on while explaining that yes he was active duty during the War, being outside the military purge requirements he stayed while his relatives died in the East. He understandably resented the military’s actions, and was confused as to why Major-General Armstrong would keep him around as a ranking officer given the racial tensions. Eventually he asked her. [Major-General Armstrong]: “This is Briggs. No matter what happens, this territory must not fall. Every soldier here must be both strong and flexible. You must move as one cohesive unit, following me your leader in all things and at all times. In short, we do not have the luxury of discrimination here. The blood of several races flows within you, and with that comes varying strengths and values. You can see this country in a way that others cannot. I was born and raised in Amestris; in order to lead I need someone with your eyes. Now shut up and follow me, Miles! Understood?!” Damn! Sorry, had to include that entire quote. Still worried about the desire to weaponize Alkahestry (and possibly Philosopher’s Stones), but I’ve gotta respect that speech. Pfft! And in addition to that awesome quote, when Sideburns asked if he can’t get over his resentment about the Extermination? [Major-General Armstrong]: *sword drawn* “Fine then, bring it! On behalf of the military I will accept your challenge any time!” Badass in Command for sure. And when Ed speculates that she said that because she had all those troops at her back Sideburns is quick to nope that idea right out. Scary lady is scary. They’re outside now, Sideburns expounding on the Survival of the Fittest culture of Briggs. You don’t have power? Dead. You have it? You might survive. Private or general, all are equal to that rule. And apparently they respect various forms of power, Sideburns notes Ed’s high luck when he trips and dodges a falling icicle. Ok, have to admit my first thought was Sideburns would say “we leave these icicles up because if you get killed from falling ice you’ve got no business at Briggs” to expand on the Survival of the Fittest, but they’ve got more common sense than that. The Brothers are assigned to scrape off the falling threats, after that they’ll get a room. Aw, poor vertically-challenged Ed can’t reach the ice while his little brother knocks them down with ease, when someone who recognizes them walks up. Oh hey, Falman! That’s right, you did get reassigned to the north. Or actually, wasn’t it the Northern Command Center? Apparently he was for a bit, but then promotion and shuffling over to Briggs. Unfortunately despite the shoulder bling the Brothers pick up that doing grunt work like this means he’s off the career track? Come on kiddos, show some tact when noting the middle-aged guy is off the advancement list! I’d run away crying too! After Falman gets it out of his system, he takes Ed and Al to the Research and Development Center, where there are a bunch of guys working on tanks. Seems Major-General Armstrong’s interest in keeping a weapon advantage extends to taking the latest Amestrian technologies and turning them into weapons. So it does extend beyond Alkahestry, then. Hmmm. Now they’re being shown a massive mechanical room, giant red pipes and fans everywhere. Falman says this is the lowest level of Fort Briggs, since Ed comments that it’s warm I’m assuming this is the engineering room that keeps all the toilets in the fort from freezing, as well as several less-important functions. [Falman]: “Even if the fort’s attacked, this area will remain safe.” ...now why did you have to say that, Falman? You know the Irony Gods can’t resist a line like that. Looking around, Ed’s pushed aside by a mechanic who’s inspecting a pipe for an odd noise, then puts his head to the ground when the Ominous Piano starts up. Digging? Spies from Drachma? Uh, the screens starting to shake and the sound is getting louder, if these are spies they are the least subtle spies I have ever seen/heard. Wait. Not Drachma! NOT DRACHMA! WE HAVE GOTH SIGN! Way, way back in the show we saw the Goth Sloth digging somewhere. I guess we know where that is now! But why? Sloth seems to have a deep voice, saying that it’s annoying to do all this digging, but it’d be a pain to die so whatever. Huh, so this Goth’s being interpreted as apathetic? Guess we’ll find out now, there goes the floor! Mid-ep pictures of Major Miles and yup, that’s Sloth. Major-General Armstrong’s getting a report on Kimblee, seems he’s been checked into a hospital after the train battle. She’s upset to hear that he’s free, especially by the Fuhrer’s orders, but that’ll have to wait because alarm! Intruder in the base!

Sloth sloooowly crawls out of the ground, a big hulking brute facing down the engineers and Elric Brothers. Sloth stares… Ed stares… Sloth stares… Ed stares… Sloth falls asleep wait what? Ooookay then. After the Brothers’s outburst Sloth wakes up and they claim they’re just there to research a way to recover their bodies. But Sloth doesn’t care? Doesn’t know them? What, did Sloth just get told to dig a tunnel to Briggs way back when and hasn’t been updated since? Why? Oh for- Buccy! They aren’t Drachman spies! Yes it looks suspicious that they were talking with the Goth, but that’s because they can’t engage it directly! So now that Sloth has finished his tunnel he seems at a loss for what to do, just stumbles forward and tosses aside a pipe segment (that nearly crushes Ed) because it was in his way. So what I’m getting is that Sloth is even more the dumb muscle of the group than Gluttony was. And durable too, the other Goths had to heal from bullet wounds but they’re just bouncing off him. Sloth shambles onto an elevator and bumps into the lever to rise, seems he’s heading to Development. Ooh, do we get to see the tanks in action? Everyone runs upstairs where troops are running around with rifles, and some hapless mechanics are stacking boxes and arming themselves with pipes. Yeah, don’t bother guys. Sloth arrives and they get ready to- [Major-General Armstrong]: “Don’t move!” *Rocket Launcher* Damn! Someone find me a good picture of her pose after that shot. Unfortunately it’s about as effective as the small rounds were, she tosses the useless rocket launcher to a hapless trooper and orders the alarm turned off. Don’t want the Drachmans to catch wind of an opportunity. Drachma this, Drachma that… part of me is imagining that this is a one-sided rivalry. [Imaginary!Drachman #1]: “Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like an alarm going off at the Amestrian fort.” [I!D #2]: “Wait, they’re still staffing that place? We decommissioned our own fort years ago, ever since we found the Light of Leto. I hope they’re ok.” [I!D #1]: “Perhaps we should send someone over to check on them. Ooh, and deliver some pamphlets!” yessss. We’ve got working tanks! Major-General Armstrong orders the fuses removed from the shells, and reassumes the title of Tank Lady as she boards the vehicle, swings her sword, and gives the command. Fire! Headshot, byotch! Sadly, these are Goths we’re talking about, who all raise a massive middle finger at any non-Alchemy means of attack. A shot from a tank shell just scraped Sloth’s cheek away, and it regrew in a matter of seconds. Sloth just gripes that pain is a pain, and stomps forward. Another shot lodges in his gut but is tossed aside and healed even faster, and further shots just bounce off. Damn, he has Adaptive Ability? Sloth’s “back to work” smashing stuff now, sends some boxes and lockers flying which Ed stops with a Transmuted stone hand. Major-General Armstrong notes his protecting her minions, and then Ed runs up to say stop wasting ammo. She demands answers, but Ed can’t answer without explaining about the Goths and violating the Fuhrer’s deal. In the end it boils down to one question: “Are you on our side or are you in league with that thing?” Ed just doesn’t want to see anyone get hurt, so the Major-General sets that aside and orders Buccy to get some tank fuel. I suppose burning did work on Lust, but that was Alchemy. Hmmm, Major-General Armstrong says they can’t stop it, just delay. And they need something stronger than fire? What are you planning? [Major-General Armstrong, smirking]: “Now you get to see the Briggs way, kid.” Oh my Leto don’t you dare aaaaargh. End of episode. Stop cutting me off, damn it! Alright! We’ve gotten some more info on Major-General Armstrong, who I’m still reserving a nickname for until I’ve got some more info on her character. I am really, really liking a lot of what I’ve seen so far, but after her immediate jump on weaponizing Alkahestry and the drive to research and develop new weapons I worry about her response to Philosopher Stones. Hopefully my fears will be unfounded and she can earn a nickname, it’s a real pain to type out Major-General Armstrong all the time. Sloth! Interesting that they went with the apathy aspect of his Sin, seems to be a guy that prefers to follow orders because thinking for himself takes more effort. Definitely got a chuckle when he up and fell asleep facing the Elrics, good humor potential there. And impressively strong, too! Should be a good battle next episode. With him I believe we’ve only got one Goth left unseen, Pride, who’s hanging out in Central with the other Goths and Uncle.

[melodiouswhite]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 34

34. The memorable habits of Miss Donovan (and bar fights)

(A/N: here there be violence and dismemberment)

The physical injuries had healed well.

And now that both Jekyll and Hyde knew, that they had something like a family for the first time in their life, the wounds on their soul were beginning to heal as well.

But Hyde didn't feel strong enough to come out and go around to pursue his hobbies for a while.

Jekyll therefore had the pleasure of staying in control for almost a month, before Hyde got fidgety again.

“Are you sure you want to go back to that?”, he asked one evening, when Hyde demanded to be let out again. “Perhaps that scum will be back-”

“If he knows what's good for him, he won't”, his alter ego snarled in response.

“Hyde, I really don't think this is a good idea.”

“I need this, Jekyll”, the younger pointed out. “And so do you. Do you think I haven't noticed how you've gone back to your old self-repression? You want to be free again. And so do I.”

The Doctor didn't argue anymore.

He did laugh, though. “You're truly incorrigible.”

“Look who's talking!”, Hyde retorted.

Jekyll finished his work for the day and left his office.

Poole frowned, when he told him that he would go out tonight.

“Are you sure, Doctor?”, the elderly servant questioned. “Only a month after you-know-what?”

“It's alright”, Jekyll assured him. “We will be more careful this time. Don't worry, Arthur.”

Poole shook his head. “You're truly incorrigible, Henry.”

The blond chuckled. “I know.”

Only Poole got away with that cheek towards him.

“Mister Hyde! So good to see you again!”, the cash carrier* cried eagerly and approached the small brunette, when he entered the bar.

Hyde hid his scorn behind his creepy smile and told him that tonight he was just here to get drunk.

When he looked around, he recognised some men, he had bested on other occasions.

Some of them saw him and glowered, but Hyde didn't worry about them.

They wouldn't have the guts to do anything, he knew.

He jumped onto the counter and threw a Sovereign onto the table.

“Long time no see! The usual?”, the barkeeper inquired and Hyde nodded affirmatively.

“The usual. And pour it, where I can see it!”, he added scowling, when the barkeeper turned his back on him to pour the drink.

The man gulped. “Alright, alright!”

He stepped to the side, so the smaller man could see everything, poured the ale and handed him his pint.

“Thank you”, Hyde purred with false sweetness and strode over to his accustomed seat in the corner.

To his surprise, someone was already sitting at the table.

And it was none other than-

“No way!”, he exclaimed, “Miss Donovan! Fancy meeting you here!”

She turned her head, recognised him and grinned like a bedlam girl. “Likewise!”, she responded, “Been a while, hasn't it? Come and sit with me, Mr. Hyde!”

He did so.

This time she wasn't cross-dressing. Instead she was sporting a black and red dress. Her flame red curls were in a ponytail and she wore dark red lipstick and rouge.

Probably to lure men in.

Hyde knew a trap, when he saw one.

“How've you been?”, she asked cheerily.

“I'm getting better.”

“I can tell. Up to your debauchery again, eh?”

“Well, what can I say? I am and always will be a depraved man.”

“It's fine. Just don't go forcing yourself on people ever again. Now that you know what that feels like.”

Hyde frowned. “Oh, don't worry. I learned my lesson in that regard.”

She nodded. “Good.”

“Sooo”, Hyde drawled, “What are you doing here in a bar?”

The ginger shrugged. “Eh, ya know. Getting up the pole and looking for girls.”

Oh. So she's a queer too …

“Well, this is a brothel, so-”

“I'm not here to dab it up”, Miss Donovan revealed, “I want to find a lady-friend. Kinda hard for me to keep one.”

He looked at her in confusion.

It was hard for him to imagine.

Alma Donovan was an attractive girl, in almost every way. Even the piercing, feral look in her eyes – so much like his own – could be enticing. He certainly knew that a lot of men had a thing for wild, temperamental beauties.

She explained: “I'm mad. Maybe Luise told you, but I like to stab and mutilate blokes. They just 'ave to look at me funny and then they can say bye-bye to their crown jewels.”

Hyde cringed.

“Do I have to worry about losing mine?”, he queried.

She shook her head. “Unless you ever hurt a woman again, nah. Besides, you already got a taste of your medicine and promised to never do it again. So you're safe.”

Oh thank Heavens …

“And I have quite a few other quirks”, the ginger continued, “So every time I actually manage to get meself a girlfriend, it doesn't last long. I'm looking for a lady, who can put up with me madness.”

Oh.

Well, he knew a few tough girls. Tough enough for him, at least. And he was a madman himself, after all. So in theory, they would be able to handle that madwoman here too. But …

“Just out of curiosity, how do you treat your lady-friends?”

Suddenly, Miss Donovan grinned like a Chesire cat.

“Oh, I spoil them rotten!”, she cried excitedly, “Luise gives me a handsome allowance and I make quite a lot of money by placing bets! I'd give them the best I can afford, take them out for dates, protect them from perverts, teach them how to defend themselves and how to read and write, take care of them, be there when they need me-”

The plural form got his attention. “Them?”

Miss Donovan scratched her head awkwardly. “That's the other problem. Monogamy isn't me thing. That and the fact that I get into trouble so often … well, you get the idea. Have been jailed several times too. Luise cuts me allowance every time she has to bail me out.”

One of these girls, eh?

Hyde laughed: “Miss Donovan, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

“Call me Alma”, she requested, “Miss Donovan was me mother.”

The brunette grinned. “Call me Edward then.”

They shook hands and proceeded to chat about this and that.

Unfortunately their conversation was interrupted, when Hyde felt a presence behind himself.

Alma frowned. “Uhh, Edward?”

“I know”, he muttered and turned around to come face to face with a huge bloke, who was glaring down at him. He reminded Hyde of a gorilla Jekyll had once seen at the zoo.

“Can I help you, Sir?”, he asked coolly and with an unaffected expression.

“You sick in the head?”, the taller man snarled.

He raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Ye heard me!”, the gorilla growled.

Hyde looked past him and caught sight of some men he remembered roughing up. They were whispering and staring at the gorilla, like he was off his head. Which he certainly was.

“I have a score to settle with ya!”

“No, you don't”, Hyde responded languidly. “If we'd brawled before, I'd remember you.”

One of the workers in the background stood up and put a hand on the moron's shoulder.

“Are you off your rocker?!”, the man hissed, “That gremlin looks small, but he holds a candle to the devil.”*

A gremlin?!

He heard Jekyll snort in his head and almost laughed too. But Hyde was in a good mood, so the other man was off the hook. Besides, that was one of the more harmless things he'd been called so far.

“Well, you would know, wouldn't you?”, Hyde remarked, smirking.

“See, Sir”, he turned back to the gorilla, “That man would have a score to settle with me. And so do those three gentlemen in the back.”

He pointed at three other men, who were sitting at one of the other tables. The worker returned to his chair at their table.

“They're just wise enough not to”, Hyde continued. “And you should be too. Or you can just tell me what you actually want.”

“Ye must be that Hyde-fella”, the giant growled.

“'Sup?”

“I heard things about ya!”

“Really now?” Hyde's eyes narrowed. He was starting to feel extremely agitated. Why couldn't that twit just leave them alone? Normally he would have punched him in the gut by now, but he didn't feel like getting himself another house ban.

“Ye start brawls and beat people up for kicks”, the bigger man growled.

And you don't? Hypocrite.

“Even if they're over twice yer size-”

And what does that tell you?! Sod off!

“-Almost killed some old geezer for no reason-”

How the hell did that bastard know that?! Sir Danvers Carew hadn't pressed charges or given his name! The only witness had been a maid and Lady Summers had bought her silence. No one knew that it had been him!

Hyde feigned ignorance: “Some old geezer? Rumours! I can't think of one!”

Jekyll snorted: “Fibbing, Hyde? That's not like you.”

Shut up, Jekyll. Besides, it's easy to deny, when he doesn't say who he means.

Well, at least the fib had the desired effect. It threw the other off. Good. So he had only heard rumours about it. He couldn't prove anything. He didn't even know, if it was true.

The brunette scoffed: “Telling stories with no basis on reality? Pathetic! Now, for the last time, who are you and what do you want?”

I swear, if I have to ask one more time-

“I'm Bob Smith”, the gorilla told him.

“And I'm Queen Victoria”, Hyde responded, mimicking a falsetto and batting his eyelashes. “Guess who I am!”

Some people cackled in the background. Alma chortled and even Jekyll laughed in his head.

The gorilla's scowl intensified. “I'm tryin' to talk to ye, little shit!”

“As am I. And I'm currently failing. And I'm sorry for that. But I'm just so irritated! Because a plastered gorilla just strolled up to me and my friend, interrupted our conversation and is trying to intimidate me, like I'm one of the underage attendants!”

Hyde stared him right into the eyes. He could tell that, if he stood up, he still wouldn't even reach up to the giant's chest, so he didn't bother. Also, he'd bested men of that size before, some of them being professional brawlers. And he was in the perfect position to-

Suddenly the gorilla grabbed him by the collar, which made him gasp in surprise.

“Don't give me that sass, ye brat!”, he snarled. “I'll tear ye to pieces an'-”

Before he could continue, Hyde decided that he had enough and kicked him in the nuts with all his strength.

The gorilla let go and wailed like a little girl. Then he dropped onto the floor, clutching his crown jewels and cursed up a storm.

Priceless.

Utterly priceless.

The brunette scoffed: “Look at you! Acting tough, but a simple knock in the nuts is enough to knock you off your feet. Pathetic.”

“Oi!”, Alma suddenly piped up and stood up. She came around the table and grabbed the man by the hair. “I remember you!”

Her ice blue ice narrowed to slits.

“I saw you 'ere a fortnight ago! You're that piece of shit, who walked off with one of the underage attendants! That ten-year-old gal, if I remember correctly.”

So that gorilla is one of those blokes, huh?

“Ew! Gross!”, Jekyll groaned in disgust. “And you call me a dirty old man, Hyde! At least I don't use children to satisfy my carnal desires!”**

Yes, that's one of your redeeming qualities, Hyde thought drily.

Meanwhile Alma was grinning maniacally. “Why, there's only one appropriate way to 'andle blokes like you!”

To the brunette's surprise, she charmed a knife from her glove. “Now”, she purred darkly, “You will find out, why they call me 'Unmanning Alma'!”

Ohhhh, this is going to be good!

“Hyde, no.”

Hyde, yes!

Hyde was quite convinced, that the knife was blunt. Which made this whole thing even better!

But before more could happen, someone new entered the brothel.

He couldn't believe his eyes. “Lucy!”

She turned to face him. “Oh, Mr. Hyde! Good evening!”

He frowned. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave this place!”

The black-haired woman smiled. “Don't worry, I'm just here to get my clothes. It took me a while to find a room somewhere, but now I finally have a nice one.”

Hyde composed himself. Finding a nice and affordable place to live was extremely hard here in London, he knew that.

Lucy went up to the pimp and they began a talk, which quickly turned into an argument.

His eyes narrowed.

Oh no, that snake was not going to take Lucy's things for himself!

“Is there a problem?”, he asked the pimp icily.

The snake began to talk some gibberish about Lucy having debts.

“I see”, Hyde replied coolly and turned to Lucy: “When you moved out, how much did he charge you?”

“Sixty Pounds”, Lucy huffed. “And I paid! Now he wants another twenty!”

“Sixty? Her possessions are worth less than forty – which I know, because I calculated it. But since you're so eager to rob an ex-prostitute, let's settle this business once and for all.”

Hyde turned around, rummaged in his bag and then turned to them, his hands behind the back. “Alright”, he began darkly. “In one hand I'm holding my bag, that contains medical equipment, as well as all the money you could ever dream of. In the other, I have a walking cane stable enough to bash someone's skull in. Of course”, he added with a sneer, “The other option would be that you land behind bars for hiring underage prostitutes. Just a brief reminder, the age of consent was raised up to sixteen last summer. But then again, when has that ever stopped people from lusting for little brats, eh?”

The pimp stared at him for a full minute.

“Her debts are more than settled”, he finally uttered weakly. Then he backed off and let Lucy get her last things. When she returned downstairs, the snake was waiting for her and shoved a bag of money into her hands. “Here you have twenty pounds, just keep your mouth shut!”

Hyde snorted. The things people did to avoid getting apprehended!

“Oh shut up!”, Jekyll scoffed in his head, “You turn into me, when you get into trouble with the police!”

You shut up, Jekyll!

“No, you!”

Just for the record, I haven't got into trouble with the police since that Carew affair! Now shut up and let me enjoy the show!

“What show? This one or Miss Donovan castrating that paedophile?”

Oh, right. He had forgot about that bugger.

When he turned to the red-head, she had knocked the gorilla out cold and was staring at Lucy, like she was the most gorgeous thing in the world.

To be fair, the black-haired woman was the most beautiful girl he knew.

An idea popped into Hyde's head.

He took the surprised Lucy by the hand and guided her to his new friend (who quickly hid her knife).

“Let me introduce you to Lucy Harris, a woman who's too good for this sinful world – don't you dare deny it, Lucy”, he added, when she wanted to object. “And this is Alma Donovan, a friend of mine, who is just as mad as I am.”

“Charmed!”, Alma cried enthusiastically and shook the blushing woman's hand. “It's an honour to meet a remarkable lady such as yourself!”

“Uhm … likewise …”, Lucy mumbled shyly, obviously not knowing how to deal with this.

Jekyll laughed in Hyde's head.

“I didn't pin you to be a match-maker!”, he teased. If he had been corporeal, Hyde would've stuck his tongue at him.

Oh shut up, if these two hook up, it might give me an advantage!

“Sure, Hyde. Whatever helps you sleep at night! There is no way you could be doing this, because you want two people who helped you to be happy!”

I would strike you, if I could.

“But you cahaaan't!”, Jekyll taunted him. “Come on, Edward! You know that I'm right!”

The brunette puffed his cheeks in annoyance.

Better half, his arse! Also, how old was that man again? Oh yeah, fifty! He was a dirty, fifty-year-old bastard!

A groan got their attention. Oh, the gorilla was waking up.

The two mad people excused themselves and dragged the half-conscious man outside and into an alley. Hyde kicked him in the solar plexus for good measure, to render him defenceless.

But when Donovan had her blunt knife out, Hyde laughed and took a scalpel out of his bag. “That knife is too blunt. Use this, that'll be quicker.”

Alma took the medical tool and made short work of the man's nether regions.

She and Hyde cackled maniacally as the child-molesting bastard screamed, then left him to writhe in agony.

“I need to go back”, Hyde told her, “I still have to pay for my drink.”

She grinned. “Maybe Miss Harris hasn't left yet”, she hoped.

I'm sure one of her ex-colleagues is keeping her back for a few minutes to chat, he assumed.

And sure enough, he was right.

Lucy was leaning outside, next to the door and chatting with one of her colleagues, who had crept outside for some fresh air.

Hyde recognised the other woman. That French girl … what was her name … oh right, Marianne.

Alma went up to them and joined in their conversation, while he went back inside to pay.

Everyone was obviously glad, when he paid up and left the place.

Then he had a short talk with the three women (Lucy inquired how he was doing), before turning to go home. “Goodbye, ladies! It was fun to pass time with you!”

“Likewise!”, Alma laughed and waved back.

Then they all went their separate ways.

Hyde was still elated, when he arrived at his flat.

Sure, he hadn't got up the pole tonight, but damn! He had found himself one sister in arms!

“This was the best evening in ages!”, he exclaimed happily.

“I can imagine it was”, Jekyll deadpanned and appeared in the mirror.

“This is my nightmare!”, the blond groaned and shook his head. “You found a partner in crime, who's just as deranged as you are!”

The brunette cackled and revelled in the other's exasperation.

Meanwhile Lady Summers was doing paper work, when her telephone rang and she jumped.

With a frustrated sigh, she took the receiver. “Hello, Lady Summers speaking?”

In the next moment she winced and held the receiver away from her ear.

“You, Luise! I just had the best evening ever!”

Why did Alma have to shout into the phone like that?!

“Let me guess, you castrated someone?”, the Lady sighed in annoyance.

“That too, but I met some really interesting people!”

“Did you now?”

“Yes! First off, I stumbled upon Hyde in a brothel-”

“What were you doing there?!”

“I'm coming to that – and we chatted about this and that, when this huge gorilla of a man interrupted our conversation and started to annoy Edward-”

Oh, so it's first name basis now?

“-and you won't believe this! It was the same guy, who screwed that little girl the other day! The one I didn't get to punish, because I had to leave early!”

“Aha.”

“And just as I wanted to give him, what he deserved, this absolutely gorgeous woman walked in! She was so cute and beautiful, damn! It's true love, I know it! And Edward introduced me to her! Her name is Lucy Harris! She's so adorable! I asked for her address and get this! She just moved into the house where I live! Isn't that amazing?! Maybe I'll finally have a lasting relationship! And I also got to know a Frenchwoman, who is apparently a former colleague of Lucy's. A really bricky**** lady, I tell you!”

The Prussian needed a minute to process all of this.

Then she recovered her spirit.

“That's nice, Alma. But you still haven't told me what you were doing in a run-down brothel bar in Soho.”

“I was looking for a potential girlfriend! You know how hard it is for me to keep one! And every woman in Whitechapel knows me. They don't want anything to do with me. I don't even know why! I'm doing them a favour with what I do! Anyway, I hoped that maybe I'd be luckier in one of the other districts. And I thought prostitutes would be a good thing to start with, because they're tougher than others.”

That's in the eye of the beholder, the Lady thought drily.

“Have you told Mr. Hyde about your favourite pastime?”, she asked curiously.

“Yeah. But he was calm about it, after I told him that he has nothing to fear. He even helped me castrate that child-molesting gorilla! I think I found myself a brother in arms!”

Lady Summers groaned: “This is my nightmare! You found a partner in crime, who's just as deranged as you are!”

---

*cash carrier - Victorian Slang for: a pimp

**Hold a candle to the devil - Victorian Slang for: to be evil

***My version of Jekyll is anti pedo. Anything younger than eighteen is too young for him. Hyde likes them twenty (like himself) and older.

****bricky - Victorian Slang for: brave, fearless

[thedarksideofriverdale]

In Unity, There is Strength Part 8

Riverdale AU - Werewolves  ----- Kurtz X OC

Masterlist

Guide for Creatures and Characters

Meet the OC

Playlist

XXXX

Three cars, closely following each other, were speeding to the hospital. The first car had the hospital’s newest admission, the girl who knows too much. After parking near the ER, the entire pack ran towards the automatic double doors, Jughead hugging Zara closely to his body. Her eyes were glazed over, and the pack knew that her injuries didn’t just stop at her throat being nearly lacerated. The nurse at the front desk quickly grabbed the virtually immobile girl and called out for the doctor. After she was taken away, the group of teens sat solemnly in the waiting room. Numerous phones were buzzing, concerned parents wondering why their kids skipped school and why they were gone for several hours. “I should’ve gotten there sooner,” Cheryl whispered. “My powers failed me.” Tears were cascading down her face, and Toni slowly slipped her hand into her girlfriend’s to give comfort. “It wasn’t your fault, Cheryl,” Jughead said equally as quiet. He then looked at Archie, who had a rather peculiar expression on his face which Jughead determined as a look of guilt. “Archie? Is there something you want to say?” Archie avoided Jughead’s eyes and exhaled deeply. “I should’ve known she was going to do something like this… something reckless.” Betty furrowed her brows and asked, “How could you have known, Arch?” “Because she told me what was going on.” At the statement, Kurtz got out of his chair and left the waiting room. Jughead raised an eyebrow at this and asked, “What’s his problem?” to which Archie responded, “He’s why Zara’s been a bit… distraught.” Jughead quickly got out of his chair to follow Kurtz, but Archie stopped him. “It’s not gonna help, Jug. Remember when I was talking about the informer Zara was talking to.” The pack nodded slowly. “Well, the informer is Kurtz. And, the favor she offered was… letting him stay at her house.” The entire pack exclaimed in anger, and the hospital staff had to come in and shush them. “Now, I’m definitely going to talk to the psycho alpha,” Jughead said with unadulterated anger on his face. And, this time, Archie didn’t stop him. Jughead exited the hospital and saw the omega in the parking lot, kicking rocks around. “Hey!” Kurtz looked up at Jughead with a somber face. “You killed our only route to the ‘Dark Lord,’ and now, I hear from Archie that you’re the one making Zara an anxious mess. What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“Didn’t think you cared about Zara seeing that your girlfriend keeps you preoccupied ninety-nine percent of the time,” Kurtz said with a smirk. Jughead clenched his fists and tried to control his anger. He seriously didn’t need to “wolf-out” in front of a hospital. “Listen, I’m just trying to understand.”

Kurtz nodded and proceeded to say, “I… may have scared Zara last night… badly. She was butting into my business-“ “Only because she wants to help.” “Well, I don’t need her help!” “But, clearly you do! Without her, you wouldn’t have a home!” Kurtz exhaled deeply, a chilly cloud appearing in front of his face. Jughead, knowing that he wouldn’t get any more information out of him, went back inside the hospital. He keenly noticed that Kurtz followed him inside, and the rest of the pack glared at the omega. But, the group immediately got up when the doctor came to the waiting room with a smile on his face. “Your friend is going to be alright. Most of the trauma was shock, and she will have to work on that on her own with a therapist. As her friends, I implore you to help her with this. Because Ms. Fatehi has said that she was nearly killed, I’ve called the sheriff, and he will want all of your statements. You may go see her, but do not jostle her too much,” the doctor said. Archie went ahead of everyone to enter the room where he saw Zara sitting up with a food tray in front of her. An angry red line marred her neck, but she didn’t seem physically harmed elsewhere. However, Archie could feel pain from her ribs and back. Going up to her slowly without greeting, he gripped her wrist. Slowly, black tendrils went up his arms as pain started coursing through him. “Archie,” Zara began. “You really don’t have to take away my pain.” With a smile, Archie said, “It’s the least I can do.” He let go of her arm and held her hand. Veronica looked at them with jealousy, but said nothing. Zara was smiling at all of her friends, but when she looked at Kurtz, she dropped her smile. “You know the police are going to question you,” she said. “Claw marks don’t have fingerprints,” Kurtz said as he took a sip of the free coffee from the front desk. Archie clenched his jaw but tried to not grip Zara’s hand too tightly. Zara saw this and squeezed gently. 

“Regardless, we need to get our stories straight. I didn’t and won’t lie from my part except for what I saw in the end. I went into the woods, planning on finding more evidence because I’m a meddlesome kid, and I was nearly killed by a psychopath with a cloak covering his face.” Zara looked at the banshee who was looking nervous. “Cheryl, what are you going to say? How did you find me?” Before Cheryl spoke, Archie interjected, “I’ll say that I thought you would be doing something like this because you were feeling anxious, and I told our friends that we should help you.” Cheryl nodded and said, “We knew you would go to the woods because it is public knowledge that all of the killings happened in some part of the woods. After we parked our cars, we walked straight into a clearing and then heard you screaming.” Jughead then said, “We ran towards the scream and saw you getting choked by the cloaked man.” 

Reggie added, “We fought off the guy and managed to drag you out of the woods, and we don’t know anything about his death.” 

Jughead was starting to get nervous now. “Everyone, don’t mention his death. When my dad says it, we all act shocked. Zara, you should shed some tears out of fear, okay? Seriously, guys. My dad can’t know about werewolves existing, ok?”  The teens waited in the room for half an hour until the sheriff knocked on the door and came in. He was surprised to see so many people in one hospital room. But, before he could say anything, Zara’s mother came in through the door, and Archie let go of Zara’s hand so her mother could hug her. FP cleared his throat and began his interrogation. “So, let me get this straight: all of you went looking for her in the woods? How did you know she was going to be there, and why was it so vital you look for her instead of staying in school?” he asked, looking at Jughead in the end. Cheryl replied, “We knew that Zara wasn’t really sick and that she wanted to solve the case. She’s been a bit anxious about the murders, and she wanted to help out.” Zara nodded when the sheriff looked at her. The deputy glared at her daughter, but stayed silent. Archie added, “I was the one who told everyone she might go to the woods because that’s where all the killings happened, and I asked everyone to come along so that we could help her. We felt duty-bound to Riverdale and our friend.” Zara smirked thinking, Classic hero-complex Archie. FP, after jotting down some notes, asked, “How did you all find her?” Jughead replied, “When we parked outside of the woods, we headed straight in because we thought she wouldn’t be very deep in the woods. We found her after we heard her scream.” Betty added, “We knew something was wrong when we saw the confidential folder, deputy, that must belong to you. It was on the ground in the clearing of the woods.” The deputy again glared at her daughter. Zara then said, “That’s where I originally was because I knew the first murder happened in the clearing, but I head a noise and walked towards it only to be punched in the ribs and back by a cloaked figure.” “When we went towards the source of her scream, we saw her tied up against a tree with a wire enclosed around her neck, which was getting tightened by that cloaked man,” Reggie said. FP asked, “So, what did you do to save her?” Here comes the lies, Zara thought. “Kurtz tackled the cloaked figure, and Archie fought him back as well until Reggie untied me and dragged me away.” FP looked at the dark clothed boy and raised a brow. He remembered the boy getting caught up in drugs before he became sheriff. 

Even though no one asked him what lie he was going to come up with, Kurtz said, “I knocked him out and ran out of the woods with the rest.” “You’re positive you didn’t do anything more than that, young man?” FP asked, eyeing Kurtz in suspicion. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but yes, I’m sure I didn’t do anything else.” “Well, the cloaked man was found dead next to the wire and rope I’m assuming he used against Zara.” At that, tears sprang out of Zara’s eyes as was planned. “He was found with three gashes across his neck. Are you positive you kids don’t know anything about this?” All of them looked at him with their best expressions of shock. And then, they responded with “Positive.”

Notification Squad: @the-gargoyle-queen @-thatgirloverthere- @that-idiot125 @sweetscamille @kurtzyoufunkylittledruggy

[writing-yj]

Robin x Reader: The Bird Tattoo~Part Five (Soulmate AU

A/n: This might be a little all over the place. I am so sorry. It’s so bad! 

You grabbed a couple chips from a bowl you set high up every time you did a pull up, switching hands for each few chips. You got back to the Cave about half an hour ago, and you had been exercising since then. At the same time, you were going over recent information about the Gotham kidnapping cases. Three more people went missing, and it worried you to no end. You were still working on finding the pattern; The Doctor had one when he started his dastardly plans in Star City. Once you obtained that, you could go to the Justice League with little chance of them listening, or you could get rid of The Doctor once and for all, by yourself. You intended on doing the latter. 

     These thoughts briefly distracted you, and you accidentally grabbed the edge of the bowl instead of more chips. The bowl fell from it’s perch, and all the chips were dumped on your face. After hitting your head, the bowl clattered to the ground and nearly knocked off your sunglasses as chips got caught in your hair.

     You heard loud laughter behind you, and you glanced back to see Robin with a hand over his mouth. “Smooth move, Mockingbird.” For once, he wasn’t laughing sarcastically at you. He was genuinely amused, and it pleased you in a way you didn’t appreciate.

     “Save it or I’ll turn you into a punching bag.” You threatened as you picked up your spilled snack. “Do you need something?”

     “No, I heard someone in here and I wanted to see who it was.”

     You raised an eyebrow. You weren’t even making that much noise, if any at all. “Well, it’s just me, so if you’re not here to do anything else, there’s the door.”

     “I’m just as entitled to be here as you are.”

     “I never said you weren’t.” With a jump upwards, you grabbed on to the bar and did pull ups on arm at a time. You put more focus on your arm that wasn’t dominant to keep your arm strength evened out.

     Around five minutes went by and Robin was still standing there, watching you. It was rather creepy. “I heard that taking a picture lasts longer than staring.”

     “Why were you in Gotham last night?” Robin finally asked. It was on his mind since the night before, and Batman said the behavior you displayed was unusual.

     “So that’s what you wanted,” you pulled yourself far up on the bar and sat on top of it, looking down at him. “I already told Batman; Black Canary and I finished things up in Star City and I wanted to drop by for a bit, do some sightseeing.”

     “Not happily, from what I saw.” Robin sat down on a piece of equipment. “You didn’t look too whelmed.” You fought back a smile at his made up word. They were amusing to you.

     “I just wanted to get some stuff off my mind. Clear my head a little, unless that’s a crime now. From what I remember, you weren’t too whelmed to see me either.”

     “You and Black Canary operate in Star City, not Gotham. I was just defending my territory.” 

     “And I was trying to feel better. Lighten up, would you?” Your eyes narrowed and you prepared yourself for an argument. “If it’ll get you off my back, I won’t step into your ‘territory’ again.” You didn’t want to completely stay out of Gotham, but if it got Robin to chill out, you would.

     Deep down, Robin was concerned. Anyone could tell that you didn’t sleep again and your personality was slowly starting to change, with or without being so tired. He told himself that he didn’t like you time and time again, but he cared and he didn’t want to fess up.

     “You don’t have to stay out.” Robin said quickly to keep your attention. “I just wanted to know what you were upset about.” Before you could take it the wrong way, he added, “It’ll affect the team if you are.”

     ‘Of course it’s about the team. It always is.’ You thought to yourself. “I was thinking about my family. About what happened to them.” Your voice got quiet and you fiddled with your watch/wrist computer. “Sometimes, I try to imagine what it would be like if they were still here.” Your voice was tinged with sorrow. It was difficult to open up to Robin again, but he didn’t tell anyone about what you said Saturday night, so he gained at least some of your trust.

     “What happened to them?” Robin asked gently. He also lost his family, which you knew about, and he knew how fragile the subject can be. “I know how hard it can be to talk about. I was like that, too.”

     “I’m not going to say much, just so you know...” You looked away from him, suddenly feeling very exposed. 

     You didn’t say anything for almost two minutes, but Robin was patient with you for once. Your chest got tight as you struggled to pull the right words together. You weren’t going to say everything, but you didn’t want to say too much. It felt like you were trusting him too easily, too early.

     You opened your mouth, and the words were quiet. “The Doctor nabbed my family and I on our way home, one night. We weren’t the only ones he experimented on,”

     ‘Experimented on?!’ Robin thought with alarm.

     “The various tests and serum combined with animal DNA  were too much for the average human body to handle. They died, one by one. Obviously,” you jumped down from the bar and gathered your things. “I didn’t.” When you stopped talking, you walked past Robin and to the door. You didn’t want to say anything else; you hated remembering it. You hated thinking about how you were the one to survive, instead of dying with your family.

     Robin’s words were too faint for you to understand, but you didn’t stop to ask. You didn’t want him to see you in such a weak, vulnerable state. With every piece of information you told him, you wanted to say more. It was like he always had your trust, but you refused to acknowledge it. He hated you, right? And you didn’t like him either? How he made you feel this way left you baffled.

Robin sat in the lounge next to Wally, who was loudly eating a bag of cheesy chips. He didn’t say anything, and the team noticed he wasn’t feeling well. Hearing just a tiny fraction of your backstory made him feel sick. You and your family were science experiments? Every one of his victims but you died?

     “What’s wrong, Rob?” Wally asked and waved a hand in front of his face. “You don’t look too hot.” He wasn’t used to seeing his friend in such a state. Robin looked a little paler than usual.

     “Are you sick?” Megan asked and she floated over to him. 

     He moved away a little, not wanting her to read his mind. It wasn’t his story to tell. “I’ll tell you guys later.” Robin said and shrugged it off. “Did Batman call for any missions yet?” He shifted the subject as fast as he could.

     Kaldur shook his head. “No, not today. It’s strange. We haven’t had a mission for almost a week.” Batman hadn’t even hinted at a mission.

     “Hey, I take that as a good sign.” Artemis said casually. “But it’s still really boring.”

     “Maybe if we poke your tattoo date, it’ll appear sooner.” Wally joked and he jabbed Robin in the side. “That’ll bring some excitement.”

     “Hey!” Robin exclaimed and swatted his hand away. “I don’t think it works that way, KF.”

     “I’ve only seen like, one or two soulmate tattoos in person.” Wally pouted. “And M won’t let us get close to hers, let alone see it.” His head turned to Artemis so fast that she that it was going to fall off. “But Artemis has.” Wally flashed a toothy grin and wiggled his eyebrows.

     Artemis responded with a groan and a glare. “I’m not telling you what her tattoo looks like; even if I did, she would kill me.” The last thing she wanted to do was break your trust or your friendship.

     “At least give us hints!” Wally whined loudly. “Is it an object? Is it an animal? Is it a weird shape?” His questions came out as rapid fire. 

     “She’s not going to say anything, Wally.” Robin said with a sigh of boredom.

     Wally’s groaned was so dramatic that it made everyone chuckle quietly. “At least tell us if it’s colorful!” The lack of action in his life was affecting him greatly.

     “Fine!” Artemis huffed. “Yes, it’s colorful! I’ve seen a lot of tattoos, but I’ve never seen a tattoo that colorful in my life!” The words spilled out before Artemis could stop them, and regret and guilt followed immediately. What were you going to do if you found out she told you? “Happy now?”

     Wally was over the moon. “Oh my God, she must see him every day, then!” 

     Just before he could launch into a loud investigation, Kaldur intervened. “I think it’s best that we stay out of this. Mockingbird’s soulmate tattoo is her business and her business alone.” He looked over at Artemis with scolding eyes, and she looked very guilty. “I’m sure that if we go any further, she will be even more furious when she finds out.”

     “If she finds out.” Wally butted in. “Emphasis on if.”

     “No,” Kaldur knew for a fact that there was no use in trying to keep something from you. In the time you had been on the team, you always found out eventually. Always. “When she finds out. Emphasis on when.”

     “Yeah, good luck trying to hide it from her.” Artemis told him. She was going to tell you what she did the moment the opportunity arose. “You can’t hide anything from Mockingbird. Remember when she found everyone during hide-and-seek in five minutes?”

     Robin did a double take. “She played hide-and-seek?” You didn’t seem like a girl who would play it. “Willingly?”

     “Yeah,” Wally scoffed. “Because she knows she can win. We never find her, but she always finds us. I got into the ceiling and she still found me.”

     “You and Batman were still off doing your own thing when we got back from a mission, so we played it without you.” Conner didn’t have any experience with the game, so he was barely disappointed when he was the first to be located almost every round.

     Megan clapped her hands excitedly. “Maybe we can play it again now! It’s been a while since last time.”

     “I’ll go get her!” Wally volunteered himself and he darted out of the room in, well, a flash.

     Robin listened in as the team reminisced and described the last game of hide-and-seek. You always found some sort of bizarre, secluded hiding spot or you blended in freakishly well. No wonder you never blew your cover on missions.

     When Wally brought you back in his arms, you leaped out of his grasp with a displeased grunt. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

     “Hey, I got you here fast, didn’t I?”

     You elbowed him in the ribs, making him wince. Robin noted how you looked perfectly fine and cheerful, unlike how you were in the workout room. “So, are you guys ready to lose?”

Robin gaped up at your hiding spot in the library. You, once again, were the last person to be found; you had to give him multiple sound clues. “How did you actually get up there!? Wait, no, how did you even fit in there!?” The others were waiting in the lounge for you to be discovered, and it had been a while.

     “Just a little faith, trust, and pixie dust.” You called down to him as you wriggled out. “Duh.”

     Robin barely held in a giggle, but he put on a stern and slightly annoyed face. “Are you going to come down now or what?”

     “Are you going to catch me, my caped crusader?”

     “Yes, because that’s exactly what I’m here to do.” Robin rolled his eyes and held his arms out sarcastically. “Bombs away.”

     You took that as the a-okay and you let yourself drop from a dangerous height. His sarcasm was evident, and you knew you wouldn’t get too injured from the fall, but you wanted to surprise him.

     However, when he barely managed to catch you, you accidentally knocked off his sunglasses and they clattered to the floor. You felt remorseful as you flung yourself out of his arms and you snatched up his sunglasses to put them back on his face as soon as possible. “I am so sorry, I didn’t think that was going to happen-!” Your voice caught in your throat when a pair of beautiful bright blue eyes stared back at you.  He looked just as shocked. While you held his sunglasses, he held yours. 

     You see his face at school every day of the week, but this is the first time Robin seeing your own. He was mesmerized by your gorgeous (e/c) eyes, and your whole face was stunning. “I-I, uh,” he tried to say something, but he stuttered constantly.

     You saw your sunglasses in his hands and you gasped out of reflex; you didn’t even notice they came off. You threw a hand over your face, gave him his sunglasses, and you took your own. But, surprisingly, you didn’t feel the panic you usually did when another hero/sidekick almost sees your face uncovered. In fact, you felt indifferent. Like when Artemis sees you without a mask.

     After he put his sunglasses on, he ran over and all but slammed the doors shut. “You’re (Y/n) (L/n)?!” He couldn’t believe it; Gotham Academy’s captain of the robotics team with a 4.5 GPA at the top of all her classes and considered one of the most attractive girls at the school was Mockingbird!? The girl who completely charred a bully who made fun of Dick’s name was Mockingbird!?

     “Yes, now shut it!” You hissed as you pulled up the cave’s monitor system and selected the library’s security camera. In a few seconds, you wiped the sunglasses removal and conversation from the system, and you turned off the mics for the time being. “Memory wiped and mics are off. Proceed.” You were going to let Robin vent; he looked like he was going to explode. With anger or surprise. Both, most likely.

     “I’ve talked to you! A lot! I see you everywhere! In the halls, in the courtyard,” it was all blowing his mind. “Your picture is in the trophy case with the robotics awards- impressive, I admit -and you pretty much roasted Jared for making fun of me!” He looked very confused, and then a little down. “You defended me even though I treat you like crap here. I’ve been hating you as Mockingbird and-”

     “You have multiple reasons for not liking me. Granted, most of them are really stupid reasons, but I wasn’t going to let an asshole make fun of you.” It was all so... easy to talk to him about who you really were, now that that cat was out of the bag. It felt like he was a close friend, when he clearly wasn’t. “I’m a similar but different person without a mask. Some differences more prominent than others.”

     “I'm just confused that I didn’t figure it out myself.” 

     You nodded slightly. “I’m a little confused, too.”

     “About what?” Dick cocked his head. 

     Your brows furrowed. “About how I’m trusting you so easily. We argued all the time before, but I’ve told you about why I never took off my mask and a little about my family. Just out of the blue. There’s not even a solid friendship established between us and I didn’t tell Artemis any of that until we were almost as close as we are now.”

     That confused Dick, too. He started to feel like that recently as well, but he thought nothing of it. You knew basically everything about him, Dick Grayson, anyway. “Well, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Teamwork is based on trust, so there’s a plus.”

     “There you go, making it all about being a team and teamwork and missions again.” You sighed and went to the door. You started to mimic his voice. “’The mission will go smoother if you get whelmed for once’ ‘We need to strengthen our teamwork with these trust exercises’ ‘Mockingbird, stop being so reckless, that’s not good for the team’.”

     “The last one is completely valid! You are reckless!”

     “Not on missions! I’ve never blown my cover and it has been months since the one and only time I actually put you guys in danger!”

     As you both walked out of the library, the team wasn’t surprised to see you two arguing again. Something about Robin claiming that you were reckless, and you rightfully denying it.

     “I really just want him to get his tattoo and get this over with,” Megan murmured. “I bet they’re soulmates.”

     “We all do, M’gann. We all do.”

[jordanianroyals]

30 January 2021: King Abdullah II granted an interview to the Jordan News Agency (Petra), which was conducted by Petra Director General Fayeq Hijazin and published on Saturday. (Source: RHCJO)

Following is the translated transcript of the interview:

Jordan News Agency (Petra): First of all, Your Majesty, allow us to extend our best wishes on the occasion of your birthday, and to congratulate you and ourselves on the occasion of the centennial of our dear state. His Majesty King Abdullah II: Thank you. I wish you and the sons and daughters of our nation continued prosperity, health, and security. Petra: Your Majesty, the world witnessed an exceptional year marked by the COVID-19 pandemic. Jordan, like other countries, was impacted by it. What is your message to Jordanians as we move forward into 2021? King Abdullah II: Our consistent message is that the health and wellbeing of our citizens is the priority. As is the case of other countries, Jordan is going through difficult and exceptional circumstances due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Since the onset of the pandemic, the necessary measures had to be taken to safeguard our sons and daughters, but these measures also impacted our citizens’ livelihoods and our economy. Therefore, the necessary governmental decisions have been taken to mitigate their impact on various sectors and protect the most affected social segments. I have given directives to the government to balance safeguarding public health with protecting the national economy, and work to turn challenges into opportunities. We must remember that the battle against COVID-19 is not over yet. It is our duty to commit to wearing masks and maintaining social distance, and to continue abiding by other safety precautions. The more we commit to these measures, the faster we will be able to overcome this pandemic, God willing. Petra: Your Majesty, where does Jordan stand on the international ramifications of the pandemic across various levels? King Abdullah II: We continue to engage with regional and international efforts to counter the pandemic and its economic, social, and health-related implications. Jordan stood with its neighbours and friends just as many of them had stood by us, and for that, we thank them. We invested in our international relations to be among the first countries in the world to secure vaccines. And here, let me say that our country made it a point to include our refugee brothers and sisters in the vaccine distribution plan, giving them the same treatment as all Jordanians, keeping true to this nation’s humanitarian principles. The first refugee in the world to receive the COVID-19 vaccine was in Jordan. Petra: And what about the domestic level, Your Majesty? King Abdullah II: As you are aware, we have been working systematically and institutionally, with cooperation among all our institutions, to deal with the COVID-19 crisis. The challenge was to enhance performance and working mechanisms amidst rapid changes. When comparing data with others, it becomes apparent that Jordan, with God’s blessings, rose up to the challenge to avoid the threat of shortages in hospital beds and medical equipment necessary to counter the virus. A number of field hospitals were also set up in record time. With the grace of God, we were able to bolster our national food reserves, and promising opportunities materialised in the food industry sector. While some countries suffered a shortage in masks and personal protective equipment, we were able to produce and export them. This, and the pharmaceutical industry, are promising sectors. Our main concern continues to be safeguarding people’s livelihoods and sources of income, and protecting the middle class, which is the backbone of the economy. Without a strong middle class, no economy can grow or thrive. That is why I have tasked the government with facilitating the establishment of small- and medium-sized enterprises to safeguard and develop the middle class, and encourage harnessing the capabilities of our youth in vital sectors such as ICT and quality vocational training, as well as to bolster and institutionalise public-private partnership, which is key to reviving the economy. Petra: Are Your Majesty satisfied with the results so far? King Abdullah II: There is always room for improvement, but we must acknowledge the efforts exerted by public institutions, the army, security agencies, the medical and services sectors, and the private sector. First and foremost, this would not have been possible without the cooperation of citizens with institutions, each carrying out their duties. In the same vein, we thank all national public and private media institutions for their efforts to raise awareness and shed light on shortcomings, professionally and objectively. We also pay tribute to the great sacrifices by first responders and medical personnel who worked diligently. We pay our respects to our fallen brothers and sisters, doctors, nurses and all those working in the medical sector, who died of COVID-19 while carrying out their duties. May their souls rest in peace. They are a source of pride to me and to every Jordanian. In appreciation of these sacrifices, I have directed the relevant authorities to honour this distinguished group in a manner befitting their dedication, national service, and humanitarian work. Petra: Your Majesty have spoken about the importance of administrative reform. Has its objectives been met? King Abdullah II: Frankly, not yet. A number of steps have been taken, but there remains much to do. Therefore, I have given my directives to the government to set up a programme to achieve tangible progress in enhancing and developing the efficiency of our administrative apparatus. Clear criteria must be set for evaluation and performance assessment to incentivise innovation and hard work, and to prevent negligence, or a few who do not undertake their responsibilities from standing in the way of progress. Training programmes must be planned to hone skills and keep up with various developments, while restoring the lustre of our administrative apparatus, which has always had a good reputation. Our administrative apparatus must also be free from adverse practices such as favouritism and nepotism, which are a form of injustice and corruption, and administrative and legal measures must be taken to fight it, such as automation and providing e-services to ensure efficiency in performance. Tools for oversight in state institutions must also be bolstered, to ensure the availability of systematic methods for assessment that guarantee efficient and transparent performance, in line with the law and on track towards set goals. Petra: What is required, Your Majesty, to achieve this? King Abdullah II: Frankly speaking, economic growth requires resources and investments, which may not always be available. However, administrative reform requires only a will and clear programmes and plans, which must be available. The goal is to provide the best possible services to citizens. All state institutions must hit the ground running by setting up programmes to enhance their mechanisms of providing services to citizens. Meaningful goals need to be set to enhance the quality of services and ensure fairness in distribution. There also must be periodic evaluation to assess effectiveness. The codes of conduct at the government, the Senate and the House of Representatives provide a framework to set clear standards for operation, but they would not be effective in the absence of mechanisms for monitoring, implementation, and accountability. This practice must also be implemented across state institutions and agencies, since there can be no economic progress without proper administration. Therefore, we need exceptional and integrated economic and administrative performance. The time to take action is now, and all must pitch in, in service of Jordan. Petra: This year marks the centennial of the Jordanian state and its 75th Independence Day. What do these dear occasions mean to Your Majesty? King Abdullah II: We are proud of our independence, and celebrating it means the renewal of our determination to consolidate and build on achievements, in pursuit of self-reliance; capitalising on opportunities; believing in the potential of our people and the strength of state institutions; upholding the rule of law and justice; and continuing to move towards further progress, and economic, political, and social development. As for the centennial, it is 100 years of achievement and consolidation of a Jordanian model of determination, resilience, dedication, and progress, despite ongoing challenges. The occasion of the centennial is cause to be proud of Jordan, which was built with the resolve and determination of Jordanians, who rallied around the Great Arab Revolt and supported Al Hussein, Talal, Abdullah I, and Sharif Al Hussein—may their souls rest in peace—to defend the principles of the nation, in line with the teachings of our ancestor, Prophet Mohammad, peace and blessings be upon him, and to ensure the progress and continuation of the state and its institutions, and serve the nation and its people. We must also remember that challenges and setbacks are part of every journey, and delays are not always the result of shortcomings. Our nation, since its inception, has faced dozens of challenges, including multiple waves of refugees and migrants. The ramifications of these challenges require, at times, many years to cope with. However, with God’s blessings, the determination of Jordanians, and the steadfastness of national institutions, we have always been able to adapt quickly to difficult conditions. And today, we need to revitalise the spirit with which Jordan was built 100 years ago. I therefore urge Jordanians today, as they embark on the second centennial, to always remember what brings us together as a people who launched the strongest institutions, and built a state, against whose survival some hedged their bets. I urge them to remember what we have gone through and the challenges, difficulties, and—at times—the injustice our ancestors faced, and the price we paid for our principled Arab positions, in line with our Jordanian identity, which is a melting pot of all backgrounds and origins. We are all children of this nation, the worker, the farmer, and the academic, and the residents of the Badia, the villages, and the cities. We are all the soldiers and guardians of this nation. And those young Jordanians studying and excelling abroad with many innovations and achievements to their names, we owe them our support and encouragement, so that they return to their homeland and utilise their skills and qualifications in its service, just like their creative peers studying and excelling in our universities and colleges. With God’s grace and with the determination of Jordanians, this precious nation will remain a safe haven for those seeking help and a homeland for those seeking freedom, for we Jordanians have never closed our doors to those distressed or seeking shelter. We have stood by them, welcomed them to our homes, schools, and hospitals, and shared our livelihoods with them. I am proud to be part of a great people who do not know the impossible, and I hope that in the state’s second centennial, we would celebrate a country that grows with its people and by its achievements; a state with a productive, self-reliant economy; trained and qualified human resources; a streamlined, vital public sector that serves the people; and a strong, active private sector that works as a true partner with state institutions. I wish to see Jordan continuing to uphold its national and Arab principles, with an army steadfast in defending the land and the causes of its nation. I want to see a Jordan where all have access to the best health, education, and transport services, a country that is an example of excellence. I have great faith, optimism, and hope that our second centennial will be one of advancement, progress, and achievement. Petra: Your Majesty, after 100 years since Jordan’s development process began and since the establishment of state institutions and political life, where do you see the country today, and what are Your Majesty’s aspirations? King Abdullah II: Since its inception, Jordan has been taking serious and ongoing steps towards comprehensive development, especially political development, which requires the participation of all social segments in decision-making. The builders of this nation set the greatest example of this democratic process, which has produced the legislation and strong institutions we have today. And today, out of our keenness to maintain our heritage and our belief in continuous development to promote political participation and increase the participation of political parties and youth in Parliament, we must revisit laws regulating political life, such as the election, political parties, and local administration laws, and continue political development efforts. Our goal for many years has been to reach a platform-based political party scene that reflects the ideology and leanings of Jordanians, and carries forward their concerns and national causes, and works towards achieving their aspirations by conveying their voices and bringing their representatives to Parliament. Petra: Allow me, Your Majesty, to move on to the regional domain. Jordan has always played a dynamic role in enhancing joint Arab action. How do Your Majesty describe Jordan’s efforts and its regional relations? King Abdullah II: Jordan was built on principles of Arab unity and cooperation, and this is our approach. We are proud of the relationships we have with our Arab brethren, and we continue to stand by them under all circumstances, in deeds and words. We will continue to bolster our partnerships and coordination with all our brothers, and we have held a number of meetings, in addition to exchanging visits and communication with them, to strengthen cooperation in various sectors. Institutionalising joint Arab action requires more coordination and consultation, as we pursue expanded economic cooperation, and it is a top priority for us. Our region and our world cannot achieve the security, stability, and peace we seek without reaching a just and comprehensive solution to the Palestinian cause, that meets all the legitimate rights of the brotherly Palestinian people, based on the two-state solution that guarantees the establishment of an independent, sovereign, and viable Palestinian state on the 4 June 1967 lines, with East Jerusalem as its capital, living in peace and security alongside Israel, in accordance with international law, recognised terms of reference, and the Arab Peace Initiative. The Palestinian cause is central to Jordan, and we continue to stand alongside our Palestinian brethren with all our power and capabilities as they seek to gain their just and legitimate rights. We are constantly communicating and coordinating with them in this regard. Our martyrs have given their lives to defend Palestinian soil, and our ongoing efforts to reactivate the peace process will continue, in pursuit of the two-state solution—the only way to achieve just, lasting, and comprehensive peace. We also continue to bear the honour and responsibility of safeguarding and maintaining Islamic and Christian holy sites in Jerusalem, in line with the historical Hashemite Custodianship over these holy sites, and to utilise all capabilities to preserve and protect their Arab, Islamic, and Christian identity. Petra: As the leader of Jordanian diplomacy, can Your Majesty outline the principles of Jordanian foreign policy? King Abdullah II: Jordan has built regional and international relations on a solid basis of honesty, clarity, and transparency, that ensured the credibility of our nation and earned the respect of others. We speak clearly and frankly to all; we confidently express our positions and principles. Jordanians have every right to be proud of our nation’s standing and the immense international appreciation it receives. Our policy seeks building and bolstering regional and international ties based on cooperation and good neighbourly relations. We do not intervene in the internal affairs of other countries, nor do we allow others to intervene in our internal affairs. We play our part in efforts to resolve regional crises, overcoming joint challenges, and achieving just peace as a strategic choice. We provide suggestions, proposals, and initiatives that are in line with our principles and interests, and we engage with the proposals of others, accepting what is in line with our principles and rejecting what contravenes them. This clarity and engagement has gained international respect for our country and given us a diplomatic role that exceeds our size and resources. We have a pioneering role in promoting moderation and encouraging interfaith dialogue in the face of extremism and terrorism, as evidenced by several initiatives that illustrate the true image of Islam, at a time when voices of hatred and Islamophobia were growing louder. And now, Jordan has a role to play in the international efforts to chart the path forward in overcoming the humanitarian and economic ramifications of the COVID-19 pandemic. Petra: Your Majesty, if we may ask one final question, you have received the COVID-19 vaccine recently, could you elaborate on the experience? King Abdullah II: Yes, I received the vaccine, in line with public health recommendations. And I made it a point to take the vaccine in front of cameras so that everyone realises that it is a safe and easy process. I experienced some mild side effects, and I felt tired and had trouble sleeping for a couple of days after receiving the shot, but that is a small price to pay compared with actually catching the virus. With more Jordanians receiving the vaccine, we will be able, God willing, to begin recovery and to work towards restoring normalcy, and we thank God for all His blessings. Petra: Thank you, Your Majesty, for this insightful conversation, and our best wishes to you and Jordan on your birthday. King Abdullah II: Thank you very much.

[sonderlivra]

Home - An SnK AU One-shot

Rating: K+ Warnings: Injuries, implied violence, strong language Universe: Superhero AU

Prompt: #34 “You’re bleeding all over my furniture.”

Summary: Our boy Eren is in big trouble after the bad guys corner and hurt him. In his desperation, he has only one place to go to.

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The clock tower chimes midnight, my mind spewing a taunt with each deep clang of the bell that rings in my ears.

You’ve messed up.

Badly.

And you’re fucked.

Like, big time.

Yeah, thanks, I snarl at the incessant voice in my head.

Just, like, stating facts here.

I try to ignore the voice, or else there’s no ending this conversation. I’m brought to earth anyway, when a woman lets out this ear-piercing scream, like, five feet from me. That’s when I know how seriously I need help.

Resisting the urge to grin madly at the terrified woman and showing her my bloodied mouth in the process, I hurry further down the street, a destination now decided on.

No way.

I have to go there.

She hates you, man.

I don’t have a choice.

The voice surprisingly doesn’t counter this. I really don’t have a choice.

I struggle up the old, steep, marble staircase of her apartment building. She lives on the fifth and topmost floor in an old converted townhouse, the sort of old-ass buildings where elevators are frowned upon. Very typical of her.

When I finally reach her heavy metal front door, I am barely standing up straight, my various injuries screaming agony. The voice in my head is strangely quiet and so, without further ado, I gather the dregs of my remaining energy and knock.

She answers quickly; I wonder briefly what she was doing. The door opens a crack and I see her very familiar eye peering up at me.

“Eren.” She deadpans.

“Hey,” I try to grin without exposing my damaged teeth. “Happy holidays.”

“What do you want?”

“Aw, come on, is this how you treat an old friend?”

“Friends.” She says flatly. “That’s what you think we were.”

The grin is harder to keep up at this point. She is right; we were never just friends. We were always something… more.

I really, really don’t want to go into that right now. My knees are just about ready to give up and bring me down crashing onto her doormat.

“Look, I need your help…”

“You don’t say,” she mutters, eyeing my torn and bloodstained costume. “Anything else you need me to do?”

I backtrack. “That came out wrong. You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to-”

“I don’t want to,” she clarifies.

“Yeah. Okay, I get that. I respect that. But please, I have nowhere else to go.” My desperation has seeped into my tone and I see her look change. Of course she understands, she always has.

She understands nothing, the voice whispers suddenly in my head.

Fuck off, I snap back.

Again, surprisingly, the voice quiets down.

“What happened?” She says finally.

I can feel myself swaying. My knees have started to tremble. “Can I come inside?”

She ponders over this for a moment, and then, with a sigh, she slides the door open wide. I can smell her shampoo as I hobble past her; she still uses the mint-strawberry one. The pang in my heart is lost in the very tangible pain from my physical injuries.

“What happened?” She repeats, as I sink into the familiar couch. Man, it’s been months since I sat on this old thing. I think I missed it.

“Just -just gimme a sec,” I mumble and sink deeper into the couch, spreading myself out carefully in what I know is a very comfortable position.

She frowns and sits on the edge of the easy chair. “You’re getting blood all over my furniture.”

“I’ll clean it for you.”

She sighs and looks away. I notice a book open on her e-reader on the coffee table in front of me. I let out a snort of laughter before I can hold it in.

“What?”

“’The Devil Wears Prada’? Seriously?”

She shrugs. “It’s entertaining.”

“Wow.”

“What do you want, Eren?” She snaps. I can tell now that she’s at the end of her tether.

I sigh and clench my fists. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just need a place to heal, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“What happened to your base?”

I reach up to scratch the back of my neck, but then wince: I had forgotten the bruises there. “That’s the thing,” I say, too embarrassed to look at her, “it’s kind of… burnt down.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I got… careless. They tracked me down. Found the base. I barely managed to escape.”

Liar.

Shut up.

She leans forward, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. “And?”

“And what?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Goddammit, she’s good. I start to scratch my neck again as I think of what to say, and again, I wince and drop my hand. This time, unfortunately, she notices.

“What was that?”

“What?” I ask her, playing dumb.

“Eren. Are you hurt… there?”

“It’s nothing.”

She stands up and comes to my side swiftly. I don’t protest when she gently tips my head down and brushes my hair aside with the tips of her cool fingers, plainly exposing the bruises and scabs on the back of my neck. There is a long, breathless moment of silence.

“Explain,” she says quietly.

I don’t want to tell her, I really, really don’t. It’s like, if I don’t say it out loud, then I can deny it ever happened, for a little bit longer.

“It was Annie.” I say finally, and I can’t quite keep the shame out of my voice. “She was with them.”

There is silence again and I wait for her to say something, the inevitable ‘I told you so’.

“Your injuries. List them,” she says instead, her voice dangerously calm.

I don’t want to answer her, but I also want to. I know I have to, at any rate. “Twisted left ankle, broken left kneecap. Broken ribs, slightly punctured lung. Three fingernails stripped on right hand, right wrist broken. Dislocated right shoulder. Cuts on neck. Blunt force trauma to skull, inner left ear punctured. Other scrapes and cuts.” In the ensuing pause, I continue, “The ear is already fine. The cuts are healing, I can feel the lung tissue knitting back together. Ankle’s already setting, the cracks in bone are repairing and the fingernails are growing back. Wound on the neck is scabbing.”

There is a pause before she speaks. Her voice is incredibly even. “I should take you to a doctor.”

“Seriously? There’ll be nothing for them to see by the time we get there.”

“Your shoulder needs to be set in place.”

“You can do it for me.”

“I’ll break it.”

“You won’t. I trust you.”

There is silence again, and I can almost hear her say, ‘Now you trust me’.

“Okay,” she says, and before I can see it coming, she grabs my right arm and yanks, hard. I hiss in pain but I can already feel the shoulder setting back into the socket correctly.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

She simply nods. “I’ll run some water in the bath. Clean yourself up.” She frowns lightly. “You’ll have to make do with Armin’s clothes.”

“I just need to stay until I heal-”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She says flatly and turns away. “You can take the couch.” She pauses. “Unless he has a problem?” She is looking at my forehead and I scowl.

“Rogue has learnt better,” I say simply.

Have I really?

Yes, I tell him fiercely. You better fucking have.

I wait for him to respond.

…Yes.

She shrugs and walks away. I sigh and lean back when I hear her filling the bathtub in the bathroom. When she comes back to the living room, she isn’t looking at me. “Your bath’s ready. There’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.” She heads towards the metal staircase that leads to her loft bedroom.

“Mikasa,” I call out, and she pauses, her silky dark hair covering her profile so I can’t see her face.

“I’m sorry.” I tell her.

She turns to me then, her features brought starkly into focus by a lamp above her. Her lovely grey eyes are stormy with anger and with pain, just like the last time I saw her. She is as perfect as I remember her, except for the deep scar below her right eye that I gave her. It does nothing to mar her beauty, though.

She is acceptable, Rogue admits.

Fuck off, I tell him again. And again, he listens.

“Don’t forget to clean the couch in the morning,” she says and turns away again.

“Thanks, Mikasa.”

She was clutching the banister of the staircase, and when she lets go, I see that the metal she was holding is crushed and disfigured. “Good night, Eren,” she says quietly and goes to bed.

Her behaviour is completely fair, after everything I’ve thrown at her. I wish things between us were better, but I fucked them up in the first place. Even this little gesture of care she has shown me is more than I ever expected. More than I deserve, certainly.

But for now, I’m just glad to be back here, in her minimally furnished studio apartment. Despite her cold reception, all I feel is an overwhelming sense of relief. I feel like I’m finally back where I belong. I’m home.

Home, Rogue agrees in my head.

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A/N: The superpowers aren’t the main focus here, but in explanation, Mikasa, of course, has super strength and can jump high and far (think Jessica Jones). Eren has a Hulk-like alter-ego called Rogue. Eren has mental conversations with Rogue and it’s pretty much two people in one body. Eren also has super healing, clearly, and is pretty much indestructible except if hit on the nape of his neck. This is why his neck injuries are such a big deal. The implied background here is that Rogue did not like Mikasa and managed to bring a rift between her and Eren. My headcanon is the break happens over Annie, whom Eren defends but whom Mikasa doesn’t trust at all. Thanks for reading!