#she's a risk to my niece so she had to go back to the shelter and I'm a lot sadder and more stressed about it than I expected

[kyofsonder]

Life, aiming a loaded crossbow at me: I'm sorry. You were involved in the decisions that led to this, but you can't know whether they're worth it until everything is done. This is the first step. Endure it as best you can.

Me, shot with the crossbow bolt: [looks down and sees a label tied to the bolt that reads "metaphor for stressful situation"] Ow. Thanks for the warning, I guess? At least it's the only thing I'm getting shot with for a good while.

Life, reloading several bolts into the crossbow at once: Have you ever heard of speed shooting?

Me: I want it to be known that I resent this.

Life: Noted. [shoots me multiple times in quick succession]

Me, on the floor and stuck full of crossbow bolts all over my body: Recovering from this is gonna suck.

[empressofthelibrary]

Tell me about Jamie and Rachel

......Okay, I've been trying to keep my mouth shut about them because I'm worried I'll lose the motivation to write if I spill the beans, but... When I look at the pace I'm actually writing at, I might not get there until I literally retire. So... Here we go. Spoilers ahead, obviously.

Long story short, they're Bailey and Dick's daughters. I'm not sure how obvious that was, but I'd be shocked if nobody had put that together yet, honestly. And they might be from another dimension. They hatched from eggs that grew from a plant Bailey got as a wedding gift from the girls' fairy godmother.

...I'm gonna explain everything, but it's a helluva ride, so buckle up. Time travel is heavily involved, so be warned. It gets confusing.

The earliest seeds of this start not in Bailey's relationship with Dick, exactly, but with a cryptic warning from a random blonde girl with a very strong grip and intense orange eyes. She tells Bailey to "stay away from the peacock man" and... Vanishes back into the crowd.

Bailey brushes it off as a prank from some weird kid.

Fast forward a little bit, and Bailey gets called in to body-double for Princess Lydia of Valdania. The country is in political turmoil, Lyd is announcing a marriage of state, the risk of assassination attempts is high. There's a masquerade ball involved, because what's the point of fanfic if not self-indulgence, and Bailey encounters a man dressed as a peacock. She has completely forgotten the warning from the weird kid, but her "bodyguard" steps in before she can accept this wierdo's request for a dance. That becomes important later, I promise.

At some point, through some kind of Star Trek Bullshit, I'm sending Bailey into the 30th century. Someone else needs to be with her; it can't be Wally, for obvious reasons. She gets back with the help of Cary Wren, the GL of the time, but... Cary misses the target by about a decade. Bailey lands about ten-to-fifteen years ahead of when she left, practically in the lap of a twenty-something Lian. (Lian is growing up normal, fuck canon, this whole "Shoes" thing is stupid.) Bailey panics once she realizes she's not when she's supposed to be, and who she's looking at. She's familiar enough with the scifi genre to know that finding out your own future is bad. Lian is trying to do damage control, making sure Bailey learns as little as possible, while still getting her home. But she can't keep a perfect lid on things, and Bailey comes face to face with a very curious child -- One with red-gold curls framing her freckled face, a gaptoothed grin, and giant, almond-shaped eyes, blue as cornflowers.

Everyone freezes. Chris -- now also an adult -- scoops the child away as fast as he can. Bailey does not understand the tension in the room. She has a niece, clearly. That kid looked exactly like her nephew Aiden did at her age. Obviously Phoebe had another kid. Why a civilian child is here is a mystery, but she's trying really hard not to think about that.

The other person on the adventure with her points out the obvious. Bailey laughs it off -- It's pretty much physically impossible for her to have kids. And who would the dad even be? She'd be an awful mother besides. Nah, no way. That cycle ends here. (The thought had crossed her mind, but it scared the shit out of her, so she shoved it down deep.)

Fast forward a bit. Bailey freaks out and runs away from an actual relationship beginning with Dick, because change is hard and scary and good things never stay and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah commitment. I've talked about this a little.

To be more specific, she runs away to space with Kyle. While in space with Kyle, the party runs afoul of a Black Mercy. Bailey gets sucked into a dream. She's married to Dick, and has been for fourteen years. They're both going gray, getting old. Together. They have a little yellow house with a porch swing and a picket fence. There's a shelter cat, a cranky old-as-hell ginger tabby with one good eye. The sidewalk is covered in chalk drawings.

And they have two fantastic, adorable, smartmouthed daughters. Jamie's older, eleven, and already almost as tall as her father. Rachel is six, and steals the chocolate chips from the pancakes Dick makes on Sundays. They're both bright, compassionate, opinionated girls, so full of light and life and joy. Jamie has Bailey's righteous anger and outspoken nature. Rachel has Dick's quick mind and mischievous tendencies. Bailey loves them, loves this life, so much. It's everything she's ever wanted. Everything she didn't realize she wanted. Everything she was afraid to let herself want.

But she does. She wants it so, so much.

And then Zyzzanyx, the imp she'd... encountered... previously (that's another post) pops in. Explains that she's gonna die if she doesn't make herself wake up -- that Kyle and Laney and the others are gonna get hurt if she doesn't help them. And Bailey has to let it all go.

(The Man Who Has Everything did not do enough exploration of the long-term psychological ramifications of this concept to suit me, okay?)

Bailey is deeply shaken by this dream. She starts to realize that she does want to be a parent, but the idea of stability and putting down roots still scares the hell out of her. It takes someone else pointing out that she's already basically adopted Lanos, the amnesiac navcom AI who is from another Earth, for her to really start to come around to the idea.

...This is what leads to her freakout that has her knocking on Ollie's door at four in the morning, unleashing a wall of text, and recounting the whole tale so far over several bowls of chili.

Unfortunately, Laney leaves. Bailey doesn't really have a stable place to share with a teenager, and... Lanos has a big sister to get to know, and a whole new universe to explore. They stay in contact, but it's a bit like sending your kid off to boarding school.

Shortly after that, she leaves for Los Angeles. She doesn't really have anywhere to stay, having lost her apartment while in space, and she's been couch surfing. Bette offers her a proper room in her penthouse apartment in LA, and a chance to rebuild the Titans West. Bailey takes her up on it. Staying in the Gotham/Metropolis/NYC area was too close to Bludhaven and Dick anyway; the further away she could get from him, the better.

From there, the next big chapter we get in this saga is what I refer to as the Little Mercies Arc. And this one I need to do a lot of research before I write, I know. But essentially, someone is making designer drugs derived from a Black Mercy they got ahold of and embiggified to a truly dangerous degree. You know those century-old rhododendron bushes that are the size of a small car? It's like that. But Bailey and Jason take this person down, and burn the stash.

...Or. Most of the stash, anyway. Bailey picks up a single sleeve of the Little Mercies. She tells herself it's for research. Study. Finding out how it was made. But it's not. She knows it's not.

She misses her daughters. She misses the life she could have lived, if she hadn't fucked things up with Dick. She's only human, after all.

You can see where that's going.

Bailey stabilizes, gets some help, starts getting better. She gets more involved with the local community, doing volunteer work and stuff; that was Ollie's idea, and it's a good one. She forms connections with people, even starting a new relationship with an old acquaintance, Jonah Pavoni -- a nurse, formerly from Central, who helped her decide to take up being a superhero.

...Cut ahead about... Twentyish years or so. Metropolis. Four teenagers in spandex are in hot pursuit of a man in a peacock-themed outfit. They are:

A speedster in green -- Kickstart, also known as Trenton Swift; currently the second-youngest ward of the West-Allen clan, until his parents can be found.

An acrobat in blue-and-black -- Madcap, Blythe Phillips; daughter of forcibly-retired minor-league supervillains Punch and Jewlee, seeking to redeem her family name through vigilantism.

A blonde Kryptonian girl with orange eyes -- Liora of Kandor, once Liora Tyr-Van; an escapee of the bottled city, hoping to find a way to unshrink her people before their resources run out. I'm leaning towards Spitfire for a name.

And at the front of this quartet, a young archer, black-haired, blue-eyed, and both enraged and terrified. Rachel Marion Grayson-Adler, Fledgling, third-generation superhero. She's eager to prove herself, and desperate to stop the man ahead of them.

He's headed for the Jules Verne Museum, after the time-bubble Clark donated, the one he used to visit the 30th Century growing up. If he gets ahold of it, if he jumps back to when he wants... It could literally wipe her family out of existence.

Unfortunately, they don't make it. The guy gets away with the time-bubble. So what do a bunch of 15-17yos do to solve this problem?

Steal the other time-bubble from the Flash Museum, obviously.

They leap into the timestream after him, but none of them know how to pilot the dang thing. Ray and Liora are trying to shoot the other bubble down. Blythe is hitting random buttons because one of these things has to help, right? Trent is just trying to steer while the three girls move around the tiny, cramped ship.

...Both bubbles crash. All five time-travellers are now scattered along the timeline. And this is where it gets confusing, so stay with me.

Blythe lands on a random rooftop in Gotham, just before the whole thing with the dragon-wizard from another dimension. That is also its own post. But that happens after Bailey gets back from space but before Laney heads out.

Liora tumbles into the middle of Bailey's team-up with Kara, Bette, and Shayera. She helps, but she also has to gtfo because the giant robot dinosaur they're fighting is kryptonite-powered.

Trent... Actually snaps back to the time they left, and goes for help in the form of the Team's Designated Older Siblings, Jamie and Wade.

Rachel crashes into the middle of the West-Park dining table, appearing out of thin air, at roughly the same time Bailey is getting her head back on straight.

And the other guy, the one they were chasing? His bubble lands in the wrong time, but not too far off the mark. He's outside a small volunteer clinic in Keystone City. It doesn't take much use of his touch-telepathy to steal the knowledge, training, and clothes of an unlucky nurse, a witness to the crash, and he slides in seamlessly. He's now Jonah Pavoni, RN.

Jonah's plan all along was to steal the time-bubble and go back to before the love of his life -- the woman who saved him, the brilliant, shining angel, the ethereal wonder he's loved since childhood -- before she married some asshole who didn't deserve her. When he crashed in the wrong place and time, he didn't know if he'd ever find her again. But three days later, the Pied Piper drags her in. She's injured, but the wounds are more mental than physical. Of course -- his goddess couldn't be brought down so easily. She just needs... A little encouragement. A nudge or two. He can help with that.

It's like fate brought him exactly when and where he needed to be, placed him in an even better position to convince Bailey of his devotion. Now nothing could keep them apart -- not the misalignment of their ages, not distance, not that stupid neglectful jackass. No, now he could be here for Bailey, from the very beginning, building her up, adoring her, showing her the worship she deserves. Finally, he could be hers, and she could be his. As it was always meant to be.

...Man's a little bit not right in the head.

Blythe and Liora are trying to find their friends, and worrying about Jonah later. Liora crosses paths with Bailey once, and in the interest of still having her best friend to find, tries to warn Bailey to be careful. It doesn't work that well.

Rachel, however, needs to find Jonah right now immediately. While also keeping her identity secret from her extended family and avoiding the hell out of anyone who might recognize her, so she doesn't Marty McFly herself out of existence. She's a walking ball of anxiety, my poor lanky dorito girl.

Wally would like to help, but she keeps saying she isn't allowed to talk to him about it and there are time-travel rules and he has no fucking clue who this sassy lost child is but she called him Uncle Wally so clearly she's family of some kind. But his family is really damn big, and he doesn't know who he's supposed to help her avoid. She's an archer with super strength, she might be Roy and Donna's kid? Somehow? But she also used the phrase "Uncle Clark," and her eyes are really blue, and she has that dorky little forehead curl -- Kon has weird time-travelling clone daughters, right? And... He and Bart are close...?

While all that is going on, Trent, Jamie, and Wade arrive in the present day. They're in Gotham. It's a full moon. On Friday night. Naturally, things are going sideways all over the city. The addition of two speedsters and an acrobat are easy enough to hide. ... For a bit. Eventually they get spotted by the local nosy busybodies. Wade is completely unfazed by the arrival of the bat, Trent is mildly shocked to see Mr. Wayne still in the suit, and Jamie is dying because that's her grandpa how could this go any wronger.

More bats show up, that's how. Including Dick.

They eventually nab Blythe -- who has been having fun stopping criminals, harassing the local vigilantes, and bonding with Steph in the few months she's been stranded -- and as they're trying to leave, Dick puts it all together. He has a daughter. From a future that, after Bailey literally left the planet to avoid putting a name on whatever was happening between them, seems unreachable.

Things get emotional, obviously, and moreso when they part. Jamie can't stick around, she has to find the others. No, Dick can't help, he's already figured out too much and putting the fabric of spacetime at risk. Or something.

Dick, reluctantly, lets them leave to go find Liora. I'm not totally sure where she's been during all this, but I'm batting a few ideas around. They grab her and set to finding Rachel.

While all this is happening, Jonah reveals the full truth to Bailey. He's the kid she saved in her latest adventure. He's been in love with her for two decades, since that fateful moment. He's crossed time and space and warped the laws of reality just to be with her. He'd planned to just come back to this point, but what he'd gotten -- this chance to get to know her, to watch her become the hero he always admired -- it was more than he ever could have dreamed.

And now, now they could be together. He's finally repaired the time bubble. They can sweep away to the time he left, have a life together. He's waited for her for so long, can't she see how much he adores her? Won't she be his?

...Bailey, on her end, has had a series of bombs dropped on her. By a guy she's not even sure she can call her boyfriend yet. Ending in what sure as hell sounds like a proposal? And he... Might be a kid?? She says no, like any sane person would, with a few expletives thrown in.

Jonah does not like this answer. He didn't want it to go like this, but... He reaches for Bailey. If she won't love him willingly, he'll just make it happen.

THWIP!

Suddenly there's an arrow sticking through Jonah's palm.

"STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HER," Rachel screams, barely clinging to her vantage point.

A fight naturally ensues. I don't have it choreographed well, but we wind up with all three parties -- Bailey and Jonah; Rachel and Wally; Jamie, Wade, Trent, Liora, and Blythe -- all in the same space. During the chaos, Rachel falls from some great height, while injured. Bailey dives after her.

It's too great a fall for her to survive, if she can't recover. And with her wounded -- maybe Jonah has, like, feather-shaped daggers and he stuck one in her side? -- she can't do much. Bailey is trying, but she can't quite reach --

-- and then two feathered wings, shining a brilliant gold, like flame and sunrise, unfurl from Rachel's back.

Ray scrambles to pull up, flapping awkwardly, moving on instinct alone. She pulls up, rising into the air, crowing and laughing and on one hell of an adrenaline high. Bailey helps her get back to the others. Ray gets patched up. There's celebration and relief and joy. Someone makes a "Literal Flying Grayson" joke. Wally still wants an explanation, please and thank you?

Once all that gets shook out, Bailey turns to Jonah. He tried to kill her daughter. He is a threat to her girls, and he won't stop until he's stopped permanently. Clearly, there's only one thing to do.

Wally steps in, trying to plead for mercy. Bailey laughs, and agrees. She'll show him mercy, alright.

...Remember that giant mega Black Mercy? It went into the care of one Dr. Pamela Isley, retired since her wedding to Harley, and considered mostly rehabilitated. Her indoor garden has a real nice skylight.

So yeah. Bailey can show him a little mercy, alright.

There's a whole lotta crying as the time-travellers make their goodbyes. Bailey tries to put on a brave face, because you gotta for your kids, but she doubts she'll ever see their future. But she's so, so proud of them, and she loves them so much.

Fast-forward a bit again. Throughout Bailey and Dick patching things up and figuring out a relationship for real, there's a whole lot of dramatic tension as they both try to keep their mouths shut about the possible future they've both seen, but don't know the other one knows about. Bailey is scared to death that Dick would be with her for that future -- only a possibility she doesn't even know how to reach -- and not for anything inherent to her, and Dick doesn't want to put any pressure on Bailey and make her run away again. It's a whole thing! But they do work it out, and... Well, wedding bells do ring.

And Bailey gets a very unusual wedding gift from Zyzzanyx, her old ally. A small chest, containing what sure looks like two tulip bulbs. Zazz explains that these'll grow into the girls, so... She and Dick can plant 'em when they're ready. It's old magic, and it'll take a drop of blood from each parent, but, well. She's fond of the little rugrats too, she guesses. And watching Bailey be miserable about not having them is, y'know, depressing or whatever.

Bailey thanks Zazz for this, and releases the imp from her life-debt. (Like I said, that's it's own post; this is already a mile long.)

The girls eventually happen. Jamie is roughly of an age with Wade, less than a year younger. Ray is born about five years after that, I think. They grow up safe and happy and loved, with a phenomenally huge number of aunts and uncles and grandparents.

There are many arguments and discussions regarding youthful vigilantism and sidekickery, but once again, Bailey cannot stop the future. It's allowed, but under very strict conditions regarding school and social lives. Jamie begins training at age fifteen, taking on the name Dawnbird, and patrolling with her dad.

Rachel learns archery from Aunt Cissie, and then from Uncle Roy and Grandpa Ollie, when she won't be deterred from masking up once she turns fifteen. She uses Fledgeling as her moniker, one of her mother's nicknames for her, as something of an olive branch. Bailey relents and lets Ray be her partner.

I could go on, but I think this post is long enough as is. Most of the rest of what I have is bits and pieces and fun facts anyway. If there's anything anyone's curious about or wants me to elaborate on -- or if you need a diagram, 'cause I got a little Charlie Day here -- my askbox is open!

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

Hunted

The relationships between the Aztec and Mayan pantheons in mesoamerica can be.... complicated... mostly the two groups will not interact much. But sometimes there's conflict between the two groups, nothing major just skirmishes or disagreements. If one were to make a comparison, it's similar to the relationship between the Aesir and Vanir of Norse myth. That is, until you look below. In the underworld, only the rule of Mictlantecuhtli means anything. This horrid dread king rules over all of Xibalba, and no other mesoamerican dead deity can question his rule. But a prophecy that spoke of his death at the hands of a new death god has him.... nervous. As such, he's desperate to prevent the prophecy.

Mictlan: I cannot let Miquitzlicoatl take my place at the throne..... I must have her killed... but with her mother there.... that is much easier said then done....

The lord of the dead looked on at the world above, for some kind of opportunity. On the earth above, it seemed something was happening.

Quetz: Mija.... are you sure about this? I'm not sure it's a good idea....

Mari: mamá! I'll be fine! The river's not that far away! You'll be able to hear me yell if anything happens!

Quetz: I'd rather not risk anything happening in the first place....

Mari: mamá.... I'm not a baby.... you can't protect me forever.... some day I'll have to deal with this.... it's part of growing up

Quetz: other children don't have to worry about gods trying to kill them out of paranoia!

Mari: ur... you may have a point.... but regardless, I'll still have to deal with this eventually.... sheltering me won't help....

Quetz: aye.... you have a point I guess.... but as your mother.... I still cannot help but worry

Mari: that's fine.... but please don't stop me. I just want to go find some flowers is all....

Quetz: fine.... just.... try to make it fast.... por favor?

Mari: I'll try....

After that, Maria left the house, and headed towards a river not too far away, but out of sight of the house. Meanwhile in the underworld, the king of the dead saw this as a perfect opportunity.

Mictlan: hehehehehehe! Yes! If things go well..... I will not have to worry about her any longer.... Camazotz! I am in need of your assistance!

The lord of the dead called upon a truly terrifying god. Camazotz was another underworld god, specifically the mayan god of bats. Tho he seemed less like a proper god but more like a monster! He spoke in a creeping voice, that would drive shivers down your back

Camazotz: what do you need of me, my lord?

Mictlan: I need you to hunt down that serpent, Miquitzlicoatl! She is alone in the jungle currently, so this is the perfect opportunity!

Camazotz: of course my lord! It shall be done!

Mictlan: excellent! Do not let me down!

The bat god then left, to complete his task. Meanwhile, Mari was at the river she mentioned to Quetzalcoatl looking for a relatively rare flower that bloomed in the area.

Mari: hmmmm.... could've sworn it was around here.... did an animal eat it? That'd be annoying if true.

As she looked, noises could be heard throughout the jungle.

Mari, surprised: huh?! What was that?

She looked around for a time.... then after some time without anything.... she continued on

Mari: huh.... guess it was nothing....

But then.... a horrid screech could be heard

*SCREACH!!!!!*

Mari: what the fuck!?!

Then the giant Bat monster swooped out of the canopy! To attempt to hunt her down!

Camazotz: THERE YOU ARE!!!

Mari: oh fuck!

Immediately Mari started to run from the monstrous being, passing through the trees to avoid the ravenous beast!

Camazotz, flying after her: now, why are running?! I just want to talk!

Mari: calliete! I know damn well that's a lie, you stupid fuck!

Mari continued to on running from her pursuer, narrowly avoiding the various obstacles on the jungle floor, only to trip on a large rock and fall.

Mari: aw fuck!

Then the monstrous beast slammed onto her, ready to finish her.

Mari, in pain: FUCK!

Camazotz: hahahaha.... now you're finished little goddess.... and don't worry I'll try to make it pa-

*Growl!*

Camazotz: ....huh?!

From the nearby trees a deep growl could be heard, then a huge dog like creature came out of the trees.

Xolotl, in a deep growl: Stay! Away! From my! Niece!

Camazotz: stay out of this, Xolotl! You know Mictlantecuhtli's word is l-

But before the bat could finish, Xolotl pounced onto Camazotz attacking the other underworld god and saving Mari from death.

Xolotl, as she attacks Camazotz: Run Mari! I'll handle him!

Mari, getting up: don't have to tell me twice!

Mari then ran back towards her home, so she can stay safe from any more attacks from the bat god. She opened the door and entered the house, running into the arms of her family.

Quetz: mija! What happened?!

Mari: *panting* giant *huff* bat *huff* tried to kill me *huff* Tia saved me *huff*

Rex: fucking hell.... you're not hurt are you?

Mari: just a scratch....

Ed: is tia ok?

Mari: I'm not sure.... *huff* she told me to run.... *huff*

Ed then looked out the window, to see Xolotl in her human form coming towards the house, somewhat harmed from the previous fight.

Ed: tia's here!

He opens the door, to let her in.

Xolotl: hey guys! How's Mari doing?

Mari: I'm fine but... are you good?

Mari: me? I'm more then alright! You should've seen the other guy! I'm just happy you're safe!

Mari: si... gracias tia....

Xolotl: de nada....

Meanwhile, back in the underworld. Mictecacihuatl was not happy.

Mictlan: damn that Xolotl! Traitorous puta! This may have been my one opportunity to be free of this accursed prophecy.... and now it is lost! And where has Camazotz gone?!

But then, as he is speaking, a new soul enters his domain..... the soul of a god.

Mictlan: oh... she really did that? She killed Camazotz.... with enough resources I may be able to bring him back.... but to go so far? She's really intent on protecting those foolish children then.... *sigh* this may be the end for me....

Back at home, Mari was still dealing with what had happened.....

Rex: mija...? Are you ok?

Mari: ....I'm fine papá.... just.... shaken.... I really hate that guy....

Rex: that's fair.... it's always him that's sent after you.... thank goodness your tia was close to save you.

Mari: si.... papá? Is it a good idea to stay here....?

Rex: what do you mean?

Mari: .... I think I'd rather not live here anymore.... we're within the other gods' reach and.... this keeps happening....

Rex: do you want to move?

Mari: si.... if that's possible....

Rex: I can talk with tu mamá... see what she thinks....

Mari: gracias....

A/N: there's one of the bat incidents.... thankfully Xolotl has no loyalty towards the underworld and will protect her family. RIP Camazotz.

Tags

@haskamadoneanythingwrong @havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong @hasereshdoneanythingwrong @hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong @hasmataharidoneanythingwrong @hasjalterdoneanythingwrong @hasbbdoneanythingwrong

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 21)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 20.1

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Bearing the child from a man who promised was sterile gave more anxiety as you lived in their world, knowing that Geralt will resent as the offspring was forged by a cursed spirit that held her own reasons and consequences. Your fate becoming more complicated as each day pass by with a dreading feeling that you surely have no idea about.

Warnings: The usual blasphemy. Lore about the Djinn. (I've made it up) Matka means 'mother'. Ingrith is an OC of mine so she ain't real in the witcher story. Hehehe. (Surprise! Guess Geralt knew Ingrith after all. HE LIED. LMAO. 😂😅🤣) Panicking reader. Pregnancy. 

Words: 5.4k

A/N: Is this a boring chapter? I dunno. But, it will provide everyone the lore they need for some of your questions to be answered. I forgot to actually edit this because I was too focused on ranking up in Free Fire. Hahahahah. 😂 Had to edit this a day before I actually publish it in Tumblr. (I usually take 2 days because everybody loves to disturb me in my house. Also I need to manually tag people in taglists, check my grammar and typos. Oof. It makes me squint my eyes too hard on the screen because of how small the letters can be) 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. I only own my original characters in this fanfic. 

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Geralt of Rivia,"

Vicious and cunning as she may seem, her tone was utterly redolent. Familiar faces finally met in such a fate that not any fortune teller may assume would happen. Loved ones being involve in adversities that has been unflattering for the witcher who stood before the queen's long associate in the castle of Kaedwen, a victorious smirk warping her sharp-edge face that Geralt has not reciprocated. Twisted in a smile that tells she was hopeful over her plans being moved into the right places.

"---I knew you would come," Ingrith spoke as a matter of fact.

The witcher knew that this encounter was inevitable for the second time. Their previous meeting lingering inside his head---being the reason why he chose to live in the outskirts of Kaedwen which eventually made him tarry a bit over going to Kaer Morhen after receiving no answer from her. Receiving much of an answer he needed through Cuthbert, his neighbor who happened to heard rumors about 'her' whereabouts more than from the sorceress he'd decided to talk with.

He'd finally knew where Yennefer has been travelling when you've arrived, his search being an easy one as Geralt discovered her location after trying not to seek for the sorceress he has been looking for years---ending up knowing her area when he gave up finding the sorceress after a month or so.

"Where is she?" he beseech his avows, the scowl stern and never fading as he was eager to see you since the moment he step foot in the castle.

"Yen or your futile human? Oh, it wouldn't be that cursed princess you've butchered in Blaviken because she's already dead, Geralt."

The cunning sorceress tutted before him as they stood at the foot of the abandoned round tower, no guards being publicly seen because of the fact that they were too much of a milksop. Ingrith, Tybalt and Eanraig---the ones who had cabbalistic abilities were the only people who tries to take care of the prince. His own parents and siblings never giving bother about checking how he was doing despite of being harmless in daylight.

"---You've disappointed me---I knew you had a penchant for sorceresses or women whom you could consider as your kind---strong, discerning....and even whores paid to entertain you through your pitiful solitude,"

Ingrith went on with her vouching, leaning her head to the side with a knowing gaze inside her eyes; a forewarning that she was dismayed from his foolish decisions that she finds, continuously mocking his settlements, "---But, you've chosen a useless woman who could not defend herself even by telling the queen that she was not the thief who has stolen her precious necklace,"

The butcher barred his teeth, jutting his jaw forward as he felt his back turn tense and rigid from how he was turning furious as each second passes by with the sorceress he'd regretted to seek for help before---not knowing she would also be the person to afflict pain for his midget in the future.

"You've told the queen that she stole her jewelry when you know it wasn't her, not a canny persuasion made, Ingrith."

Her grin turned bigger, finding his anger satisfying and entertaining in her perspective. Ingrith could disguise as a devil and nobody would notice because of how wicked she'd been turning herself into; a wretch that Geralt have seen from her with the sacrilegious intentions living inside her mind.

"I've expected more from you than to choose and defend a mortal, Witcher."

"---I've remember the night we first met," she continued to ran her mouth, sardonic as she gladly hinted. Ingrith could see the blaze in his golden eyes, how he wanted to unsheathe his sword that was carried behind his back to show her his indignation for everything---from leaving her niece in the hands of her father who detested her due to deformity.

Hence, she has left young Yennefer with no guilt in her eyes despite knowing everything---leaving the past behind and acting like it never happened, taking the initiative to ignore her whereabouts and look the other way from how she grew into a strong woman.

"You were asking Yennefer of Vengerberg from me," she stepped a foot closer towards the witcher, making Geralt deeply breathe through his nose from his pique and lack of personal space that she was trying to bombard him with.

Ingrith couldn't help but let her grin fall when Geralt took a step back, steering clear from her suggestive gestures as he gave her a low hiss and rumble of his chest when he added words to complete her sentence, "---and you had other plans,"

"I've had better plans for us, Geralt."

"I do not wish to be involved by those treacherous plans of yours. You want power---you wanted to become stronger. Settling yourself in the castle to do what you want. Even planning to extirpate your own niece because she is more powerful than you,"

The sorceress scoffed to herself, exasperated from how he blocked her advances. His amber filled with fury as it has still not yet died down after going the deep end. Her trials involving on discouraging his faith for a mere mortal like you. Her ears felt like it was being rattled from the inside, triggering her pride and ego over being told that she was below of her niece in terms of strength and magic, "Yennefer of Vengerberg? She is not powerful as you may seem, Witcher."

"You've left her alone with people who do not care for her,"

"Sorceresses don't die easily than mortals. It's in her blood; our blood, Elven blood. You know this."

Geralt couldn't help but give her a snicker, the small curl of his lip raising in disbelief for her intentions over you and being involved in his god-forsaken life that he didn't want you to be a part with, "You want my mortal to die,---" he gruffly muttered, the words tasting bitter on the ends of his tongue for the idea of you dying in his arms.

"---I won't let that happen, not until I'm alive, Ingrith."

The witcher continued to brood like how people described him to be; his mood turning sour for not seeing you yet and not knowing what was happening to you as it kept his chest bothered and heavy. Ingrith's features warped into a twist, her nose scrunched from how distasteful she found his protection over your vulnerable, weakened self; how pathetic he was caring for a mortal that could die easily especially having the curse, you were more impuisant than any other woman in the continent because a curse had effects and consequences.

His safeguarding would be useless because of the inevitable juncture that would give him sorrow and Geralt had no idea what he was in when he was trying hard to shelter you out of harms way.

Ingrith crossed her arms, shaking her head at his determination, "She'll eventually die, witcher. It's her fate in the continent. Humans like her reach their demise with misery and regret because they're nugatory, serving no purpose but to be insignificant over us,"

The latter turned his back away from her, ending the discussion with his perseverance being unyielding, shaking his head for her estimated fortune telling that he believed was a lie; understanding that she was only saying it because you didn't belong to their world and you were at high risk over danger for the chaos living in the continent.

"She won't die nor will you have the opportunity of doing so,"

"Her existence would bring more despair; more sorrow for your fate. She's just a nuisance value of human kind!" Ingrith loudly exclaimed from behind, watching him courageously push the doors to the round tower where the cursed prince has been living. Disregarding her warnings like the wind passing through.

He heard her but didn't give any acknowledge over her words. Whether it was true or not, the witcher may never know unless the day that Ingrith has been foretelling has actually been damned after all.

The fairly large throne room was filled in luxury, themed in gold and red. Such color that simply tells how their bloodline lived around the hierarchy that they highly take care of. Blood and coins. It says all. Their ornaments and artifacts spent with coins seeming to be conceived in detail for their palace rather than for the people who deserved it better living in Kaedwen.

Queen Makeda tapped her fingers along the arms of her throne, her gaze sharp and pondering over Geralt and Tybalt who stood in the middle of the room. Both having an obvious lour; deepening when she started to give orders about what was to be expected over the hunt, any hints as to where the witch has been rumored to be last seen or any more information that must be shared before Geralt takes off.

"Tybalt shall be coming in search for the witch with the witcher,"

Prince Markith, he was the queen's younger son before Prince Althalos. A lot more younger than the cursed man, immature as the maids say so. He stood beside his seated mother, wearing a simple doublet over his black breeches. The fading freckles on his cheeks stretching when a giggle escaped his lips; an obvious space between his two front teeth shown as his laugh echoed around the throne room that has gotten Geralt to give a gander.

"Witch. Witcher. Witchest." the teenager playfully mumbled beneath his breath, finding amusement over the whole thing going on with his family especially seeing the white haired witcher all brooding and silent, subtly mocking his kind in the least offending way as possible.

The queen immediately given him a sharp warning of her gaze, cocking her head to the side and seeing her son continuously chuckling from his own joke, having his own world that he always manages to live in. Seeming to be like he had imaginary friends rather than real ones that his parents seclude him amongst children because Markith should be remained untouched from the filth that people had.

"Markith, that is not a proper attitude of a prince," she lowly scolded in the midst of talking, the child's interruption obviously irking her temper.

Markith raise a brow, the child's tone utterly sardonic as he spoke, "But, I'm not the crown prince. Brother is. But, if brother dies then---"

She cut him off with a brusque hiss, "He will not die from our hands! He will live and rule the future of Kaedwen,"

"Does this kingdom even have a future when it is ruled by your hands?"

Quietude filled the throne room after her son's sarcastic retort. The silence was frothing; bubbling from her expected aggravation over the younger prince's shameless answer. Much to her chagrin, she has never received an apology nor an explanation as to why Markith suddenly blurted it out in the open for Geralt to hear.

Upon hearing those words coming from a child, the witcher couldn't help but stood nonplussed. His expressions coming off as emotionless with his brooding charm jumping off the four corners of the room. In which has received a glower from the vampire who also stood beside him, his eyes seeming to be taking Geralt much more of his attention when they were both called to stay beside each other.

Queen Makeda raised a finger, ushering one knight to march his way up the numbered stairs under the lavish canopy where the king and queen's throne sits.

"Bartley, bring him back to his chambers," she roughly ordered, her teeth barred as she glared at Markith who was also feral for disregarding his opinions over their corrupted reigning throughout their kingdom. Bartley gave a courteous bow for the queen before walking to where her son stood, forcefully grabbing onto his shoulders as he gently pushed him around to leave.

"But, Mother---"

The queen never takes no for an answer. Hence, one loud yell was all the child has taken before being thrown out, his gaze lingering longer at the witcher whom he has heard tales about; having quite the eagerness to see if the tales were true to their words. Yet, his mother decided to lock him up in his room again for being curious and playing around.

"Now!"

Geralt stood completely still. The scowl never changing as he gave a heavy sigh, seeming like the world was carried on his burly, armored shoulders. His sour mood being the result of your prior, quick separation before he even walked to the throne room. Your pained words ringing inside his head for a thousand times like a plague that he had finally not been immune for.

He shouldn't have left you in that condition especially when you were physically injured. Geralt actually just proved to you how much of a witcher he was; cantankerous, blunt and emotionless even though you've had this strong faith for him that you believed being the opposite of it.

But, he just needed to fuck it up by leaving you without a word and also calling you pathetic in such ways.

The butcher continued eating his own heart out by staring at the queen with brooding eyes, waiting for the go signal for his hunt. He wanted to get this over with; planning to do his job right and find the witch, bring her in the castle to reverse the spell then off you go with him. Leaving all of these behind as a past that you would never forget or decide to forget forever if you wanted to.

Tybalt audibly scoffed for Geralt to give him his regard, taking the side-eye from the witcher as he publicly stated his cavils, "Why am I traveling with him now, yer' majesty? to be his guard? Hilarious!"

One familiar hum was heard; gruff and utterly sarcastic once Geralt began to frankly acknowledge. His hostility over the vampire obvious when he has opened his mouth, "I work better alone and away from blood sucking monsters." a feigned curl of his lips appearing to be a smile has been received towards the queen, her quick understanding seeing that it was a forced one that Geralt was trying hard to perceive over his altercations.

"---I'm a witcher. I slaughter beasts. Monsters of any kind."

In the spur of the moment, Geralt turned his head to let Tybalt see the mocking flicker inside his golden eyes.

Tybalt knew he was pertaining to his kind. Vampires. He couldn't help but clench his fists on his sides, his nostrils flared while the witcher was trying to get on his nerves---or he just basically hated the higher vampire to send his animosity by being forthright, "What ye' lookin at, Weccan?" he sneered back at Geralt with barred teeth while the white wolf had the end of his lip curled into a leer, irked by his smug pillorying in the presence of the queen like he didn't give a fuck.

He really didn't especially when he wanted to behead everyone in his way.

Geralt's presence was already making Tybalt's hackles rise without even trying to nettle his temper. The image of his newly bathed hair was already narking him without even seeing his face and the feeling was mutual for both enemies.

Tybalt began forming his own ridicules, seeing the witcher become the object of his scorn.

"Your skin is as pale as your tresses. I doubt you still have any amount of blood in ye'!"

"The joke's too old. I'll assume you've asked me if I do bleed." the white wolf was nonchalant as he quipped. Displaying to be quite blase from his attempts of hurling more anger out of him when he was too furious from the start to even begin with.

"---Witcher, do you bleed?"

Geralt couldn't help the most jaded expression he could ever muster upon hearing the most asked question, uttering out a grumble of his insouciant timbre of his voice that has gotten Tybalt bellowing from his remark.

"My blood's not tasty enough for you. Don't bother."

"This feckin' arse!"

They've both sent each other deep growls against their chests, a low rumbling sound that was bouncing off the castle walls that everyone who was inside the throne room could notice as they stood side by side, giving each other glares and their derisive taunting.

Queen Makeda had a finger supporting her head from falling. Her arm folded and leaning against her throne whilst sighing over their random twits. Foot tapping along the stoned floors as she gave them both her enervated attention.

Tybalt's fixated gaze has been cut short when he'd knelt on the ground with one knee, bowing his head to pay his respects for the queen---probably, seeking support over not letting him travel with the witcher who must have a difficult time finding the witch that couldn't be found at all; not wanting to share his time with Geralt because their personalities were clashing against each other like rusty, acidic metal, "---Your highness, If you're worried about him dying in the middle of saving yer' witch whom can lift Prince Althalos' curse, I can assure you, he will not die. Legend says witchers die from monsters they hunt. The witch obviously isn't---"

The queen has raised her palm to cease his comments, completely unimpressed by how privileged he was being when it was her decision whether he would let him go or not.

"I can see how you both despise each other," she plainly stated, sounding nasally like she was too disappointed by Tybalt's actions.

At the mere exclamation of that, both men spoke in the same time. Their antipathy colliding even with their words sounding exactly what they felt for one another.

"Hate him." Geralt and Tybalt both snarled with such rancor, glaring for one more time before partially giving their whole attention to the queen who sat before the throne.

They've seen her mouth turn into frown, turning a blind eye towards the higher vampire who was left sulking for his sudden hunt. His plans with his sorceress coming to a stop for the queen's orders, intending to guard all your whereabouts in the palace as Ingrith tries to formulate a scheme to have you suffer without raising their hands on you nor using magic that will eventually fail because you were protected by a djinn.

"Tybalt. Be with the witcher. I want you guarding him until he finds the witch. The witcher shan't go back empty handed."

Tybalt couldn't help but curse beneath his breath, subtly rolling his eyes as he stood on both feet, adjusting his fur coat resting along his shoulders, "Oh, feckin' bullocks." before shaking his head as he forced a nod and approval out of him to gesture at the queen of Kaedwen.

Geralt calmly tried his best to exhale in a relaxing demeanor, his facial features twisting in utmost pique from the idea that he would be spending five days with the vampire he had a fight with back in the marketplace.

"Fuck." he lowly snarled to himself, momentarily shutting his eyes to breathe in disappointment. His head cocked to the side. Geralt felt Tybalt grip onto his armored shoulder, giving him a shallow pat to state his indignation with the whole ordeal. He turned on his heels, marching out of the throne room to fetch and pack his belongings for the journey ahead, quickly jogging out of the throne room that was making him want to curse as every second passes by with the witcher.

Queen Makeda can't help the snicker on her face, a smile forming wrinkles on the apples of her cheeks as she stated her false promises.

"You have my word about your little woman, Witcher. We will not touch her again."

Though, Geralt knew deep inside that it was all just a lie.

You've been receiving lots of personal questions from the druid. One of his queries was about the idea of wholeheartedly accepting a child from Geralt which you explained an approval if it was given in the future---or if he was even capable of giving you one. You strongly believed he can't.

Though, in the back of your head, you couldn't help but think how your child would look like with his genetics. Will she or he have white hair too? you gotta' have a child with beautiful genes somehow. An echo of hopeful, deranged voices filled your thoughts, quickly disregarding the thought in the back of your crazed head whilst hearing Eanraig bombard another question of his that kept you aware of how zealous he sounded.

"Do you love Geralt?"

"Woah. Hold your horses, Eanraig."

Subtly swallowing the anxiety away from hearing such question, you've warily cleared your throat. Your mouth wincing from the pungent taste of your after-retch. The inconspicious nullify of the subject taken heed by the scholar when you've avoided his eyes.

In-denial of the truth. Eanraig thought silently to himself while he brought his hand down, away from patting your back, "You will be giving the witcher a miracle," he lightly convinced you and decided that particulars shall be provided for the mother of the miraculous child growing inside; delaying the details with the father that would surely bring him into a shock and red-light from the witcher himself because of how having a pickney in the midst of his life will only bring his descendant danger.

"---From the night of the full moon, between a man and woman who had nature take its course, a child shall be produced,"

Mentioning that in a hot second, you were quick enough to counter the lie you ought to believe in. Trusting Geralt and his words more than ever because he knew himself better than anyone else especially in 'that' department. Thorough objection was promptly written all over your shocked, disapproving expressions; brows furrowed in worry with lips turning ajar for such sensible responsibility being given to your head like a crown fitting for you.

Was Geralt lying and he actually just wanted to get you pregnant? If so, then he was certainly a wacko for even doing it---in your world he could be arrested for lying.

"Geralt's infertile! What are you even---?!?!" you couldn't finish your sentence as the responsibility for having your lechery take over you a few nights ago was worth enough to blame. How did Eanraig knew when it hasn't reached a month after a tangle of passionate desires with the witcher? did everyone knew about it but not you both? was it why you were being hated by Ingrith because she knew you were bearing Geralt's child?

A ton rounds of bulleted questions rang inside your head after one query hasn't been answered. One by one it was hopping like rabbits chasing a baited carrot because on the other side of your head, it knew answers for your disputes within yourself.

Panic and fear over an unborn child was beginning to take a toll as you grabbed onto your roots, frustratingly tugging on them while you listened to Geralt's old friend.

"Infertile or not. As long as the other is human who possesses no magic---or better yet, both humans who possesses no magic shall receive results beyond their expectations. I have never told Geralt about this because he will never believe me. A Witcher does not take that kind of news too well---might be even saying that he would take his child as a bait to be eaten by monsters than to bring them to this world,"

You've pursed your lips, finding how true it was to hear those words from the witcher knowing that you were pregnant by his child. Was this a hoax? a dream that God wanted you to never wake up from?

Being transported to their dimension; loving a mutated human you never expected to and eventually baring a child from him when he knew he could never bore a child at all. Was this your destiny for him? giving him miracles---a child that he certainly didn't expected and needed because accepting his child of surprise was already difficult for him to undertake.

"I can totally hear him saying that." you uttered completely defeated and benumbed from the breaking news that made you forget how upset you were by Geralt's prior actions.

"You are having his child, my dear. You're carrying his scion that has been forged by the Djinn." Eanraig started his elucidation about the serious topic at hand, educating you about the accelerated gestation that the Djinn's curse may come between. Earlier telling you about the expected development because you might be seeing changes over your body than how a normal woman will be expecting.

"---The process is faster. Three times hastier than a normal pregnancy---Though, never fear for the child not to be normal."

With sangfroid, the breath that you've been holding has been puffed out with your eyes drooping closed; letting the calmness sink in without having the panic rise through your head for a hundred times because of the thought that the child would turn out different in which she may suffer in the end.

Until Eanraig decided to continue his statements that has given you whiplash.

"---Because that child is beyond normal. She'll inherit the Djinn's powers because it is a part of Matka's three wishes."

"She?" you've managed to feebly and shakily mutter beneath your soft breath, feeling the coldness wrap around you for knowing more about the child that you were currently bearing---keeping you in a constant disorient that had you staring onto your twitching fingers laid upon your thighs.

"I'll assume that the Djinn you have gotten was a Matka. The cursed Djinn who lovers try to find in order to bore an heir if they cannot create their own offspring. Matka was created to give her own powers to a progeny that would inherit her abilities---believing that her existence will help the world from lessening the bedlam within the lore of monsters and humanity,"

"You're telling me I'm really pregnant with a girl? with...with Geralt's child? This child is also...owning such power that is making me hyperventilate right now?! Is it a vampire?! What if it eats my insides just like how Edward's baby did?!" your back was still utterly stiff from the nervousness that this news has given you, the mere fact of taking care of a powerful baby pouring ice buckets on your head---the dread hitting your core from the stupefaction and fear raising a child of your own.

Your modern references has given Eanraig a nonchalant stare from him, never knowing to laugh or smile over your panicky state.

"Is the witcher a vampire?" he hesitatingly spoke, his throat sounding dry before Eanraig cleared his throat when he'd lately realized.

"No."

"Then, it shall not have any vampire blood."

Skin felt tingling as your heart couldn't stop the beating so fast, throwing you into a swivet, "I'm not prepared to be a mother, Eanraig!"

You couldn't help but reach a hand to clasp around your tightening throat, further listening to Eanraig. His expositions making you want to give him a bark of laughter due to the disbelief over what reality that destiny started giving you when the Djinn happened.

"The continent has its own supernatural contingencies that nobody may ever explain---which has given you a child of yours with the witcher. Your kingdom knows no magic based on your reactions, correct?" the druid raised a brow and grabbed both of your shoulders, firmly letting you look into his grey eyes that continued inspiriting your devastated self.

You've tentatively shook your head to give an answer. The dread gripping your heart so tight that you started breathing heavily, your fingers suddenly grabbing onto your stomach because of the sudden memory that the castle guards have placed a kick to your gut. The worry for your unborn baby bringing you into utter distress for her condition.

A loud gasp left your lips, "Wait, I've been---I've been abused---hurt---what about my child, Eanraig? If---If Geralt knows about this now, he wouldn't want my child, would he?"

"I...may never know what he thinks, little woman. He hardly speaks. Only to you, the bard and his surprise child, I assume."

"Then, should I keep this from him?"

"I doubt his mutations can keep your pregnancy as a secret,"

Panicking more than ever, you've felt your eyes well up with warmth. Signalling tears threatening to come out of it as both of your palms were on either side of your head. Quiet whining were heard in the back of your throat for the future that was bound for you especially by being thrown on the face by a brick, the brick being fate moving mountains for the witcher and his ill-fate infertility---that has been surprisingly controlled by the power of magic; black magic.

"Then, what do I do?! I don't want to raise a child on my own when I'm not even prepared to be a mother?!" Eanraig heard the sobs from you and he'd quickly gathered all of the comfort he could give by patting you on the back, calming down that tough anxiety you have.

"Cease the tears," he continued to pat, "---It'll be bad for you and the child,"

"I have a witcher baby! What do I do?!" you ranted and raved, sniffing in the same time as your fingers spread across your chest, feeling it tighten a lot more because of this serious matter. Time stood still for you, imagining what Geralt would say or tell when he couldn't even accept your love; when he was still secretive over things he wasn't comfortable about telling.

Would he be fine to have a child with a woman who was in love with him when he doesn't even know his true feelings for you until now?

"I don't know how to tell, Geralt! I don't wanna let this child grow without a father---what if I leave this world all of a sudden without him? Eanraig, what if he dies out there right now and this child grows up without a father?"

You knew, he would refuse the child you were having because of how he had a long time accepting Cirilla. A child who has already been taken care of by another---what more for a baby that he certainly had no experience of having nor wished to have?

The druid welcomed all your rants over such an important and surprising incident that existed in the white wolf's life. Completely knowing for it to be an unexpected route in his path that Eanraig could never see for him. He gave one last comforting pat on your back, nodding to you as if he was trying to let his words seep inside your head---your apprehension that he solely hoped to be the maturity of your mind.

"Let fate decide what will happen. You'll eventually need to tell the father of your child---and the witcher will know about it soon,"

Little did you know, there was already a tiny beat of a heart that seem to be inaudible for a mortal; but not for a witcher who had sensitive hearing created to catch onto the tiniest rustle of leaves till the quietest thumps of every heart.

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means your blog can’t be tagged. Please check your settings, bb’s! Thank you.) @alyxkbrl​​ @himarisolace​​ @barkingbullfrog​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​ @turkish276​​ @spookypeachx​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​ @nympeth​​ @amirahiddleston​​ @gabethelobster​​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​ @melaninstylezz​​ @psychosupernaturalhero​​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @deadlydemon​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @angelofthor​​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky​, @shesthelastjedi​, @a--1--1--3​, @gutfucks​, @raynosaurus-rex​, @britty443​, @suhke3​, @shadowclawstudio88​, @ruthoakenshield​, @just-a-sad-donut​, @gxrdenr0se, @singeramg​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​, @crazybutconfidentaf​

General taglist: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​, @silverkitten547​, @henrythickcavill​, @kaatelyyynn​, @marvelousell​, @madelinelina​, @summersong69​, @raynosaurus-rex​, @fckdeusername​, @evansislife​

[pain-somnia]

Akatsuki Gift Exchange 2020

Title: a pack comes calling Rated: General Audiences Disclaimer Prompt: “Anything with Sarada and Itachi and or Madara would be lovely, like any interactions at all between them”; some fave genres: Family/Friendship, Fantasy Day’s Notes: here’s my fic for the @akatsuki-gift-exchange 😊 I was selected to be the secret santa for @lorna-likes-skittles I hope you like it a lot. I wrote the Uchiha family as a pack of wolf shifters and made this a modern fantasy au~ AO3 Link

a pack comes calling

The air was beginning to have the sharp quality that marked the change of the season. It bit at his skin when the wind blew, stinging his cheeks.

There had been many winters in his life, but they all blurred together as he got on in years. Madara sighed as he lifted his head in the direction of  the tree line of his pack’s territory. He could hear their breaths, smell their unique scents.

The burning sage of Fugaku.

The fresh balsam that blended with the cedarwood of Obito.

The lavender and vanilla of Izumi.

The smokey cloves and orange of Shisui.

The bergamot of Itachi.

The Uchiha clan had dwindled in numbers through the years. Some had been lost as they fought for their decreasing territory. Others had forgotten who they were and lost their way.

The floral notes of wisteria marked the approach of Mikoto. She dressed him in her comforting sweet scent as she wrapped him in a blanket. Unlike the others in his clan, he was more susceptible to the cold and it had gotten worse as he aged.

“Would you like your tea now?” Mikoto asked him as he felt her adjust the blanket around his body to block out the cold.

“I will wait until it’s closer to sundown.”

It was the night of the full moon and as an older wolf, the shift took more out of him. His bones could no longer take the transformation and a tea with monkshood as an ingredient had to be made to ease the pain. Running in the woods was a game for a younger man. He mostly spent the nights he was forced to shift curled up on the engawa, letting the breeze ruffle his silver streaked fur.

The rest of the clan members were in the forest, marking trees and getting rid of hidden dangers. It wasn’t the Wolf Moon, which was tradition, but tonight marked the first night that the new pup would join them as they frolicked in the forest and  learn the Uchiha land.

And there it was, the unmistakable stench of human mixed with apples and daffodils paired with the dewey grass and earthy green tea scent of the former youngest in the pack. Swirling between them was that same sharp human scent━although much more muted━blended with black tea and cinnamon.

“Madara-ojiisan,” chorused the pair of voices, one low and husky and the other sweet and soft as petals. He bowed his head slightly in response, waiting for the third voice.

“Hello, Madara-ojiisan,” came the clumsy trill of a toddler, followed by the uneven steps that children take, heavier on one part of the sole in a way that made them graceless.

Keeping his head bowed, Madara waited for the press of a tiny nose against his own. The contact was soft but carried the warmth of a fire that all of Izuna’s descendants carried in their blood.

“Sarada,” he murmured in greeting.

With his sight lost to him, Madara could not see the markings of the Uchiha in the pup, but it was there in the delicate note of dying embers that none of them could escape.

Madara once believed it was his duty to fan the flames and watch his clan rise, to strengthen the sparks. That it was his duty to make sure his family was strong enough to answer the call.

Little hands braced themselves on his knees and a small form settled into his lap. Madara wrapped the blanket around the both of them, trapping the warmth Sarada brought with her.

The marriage of her scent with his crisp mountain air and black pine scent brought memories of past winters during the few moments of peace. It was the scent of a time when he and Izuna were still children and taking in the comforts of their grandmother’s home when they took shelter from the snow.

It was the smell of family.

.

.

Flurries of snow stuck to his lashes. Itachi had been outside in the cold long enough for his body to be too cold for the snowflakes to melt when they touched his face. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sky, reveling in the peace the snowfall brought.

“Itachi-jisan!”

The peace had to come to an end, but the interruption wasn’t unwelcome. He turned his face back in the direction of his parents’ home and opened his eyes. Bundled up for the cold weather, his niece waddled toward him. If she heard the calling━which was likely━all of the layers would become unbearable in a few hours.

“It’s snowing!”

“Did you greet our uncle?”

“Yes!”

Sarada leaped into the air when she got closer to him. Itachi lowered himself in order to grab her from the air, lifting her up higher by the armpits. She squealed in delight, giggling as he lowered her so she could kiss her nose to his in the submissive gesture of pups.

“I missed you,” Sarada cooed in her high, child pitch. Itachi looked down at her with fondness. When the dark of night settled in, and the full moon there would be a forced shift and he could already hear the way she would yip in her wolf form.

“You should get your dad to bring you out to the country more often.” Itachi had raised his voice so his younger brother, Sasuke, could hear him from where he and his wife were walking on the edge of the forest.

Sasuke lifted his head towards him, mouth opened and ready to retort, when a red blur leaped from out of the woods, narrowly missing him and Sakura. Itachi sighed as he watched the russet wolf slipped from a crouch onto her back, presenting her stomach in a sign of submission towards Sasuke.

“Why are you already in wolf form, Karin?” Sasuke snapped, holding Sakura up by her elbows from behind her.

If the Uchiha pack was dwindling, the Uzumaki clan was practically nonexistent. Uzumaki Karin and her cousin Kushina were the last of the Uzumaki wolves. Kushina had one son and he never felt the call━a risk she had taken when she had decided to mate with a human. Karin had joined their pack a few years ago, not seeking to be part of a breeding pair, but the option was there whenever she and Itachi decided that was a path they wanted to take.

“Karin-neesan!” Sarada waved her arms around excitedly from Itachi’s hold.

“Karin-neesan?” Itachi frowned, cocking his head in confusion.

“Yup! Karin-neesan said she’s a big sister not an auntie.”

“Of course she did.”

Itachi followed the wildflower splashes that Karin released with her excitement. She bounced around Sakura, pressing her snout into Sakura’s midsection.

“Does your mother have something to tell us?” He whispered into Sarada’s ear, pressing his nose into her cheek and making her giggle. Karin had a much stronger sense of smell than he did so he wasn’t upset that she had made the discovery first.

Sarada cupped her hands around Itachi’s ear and attempted to whisper back to him. “Sarada is going to be a big sister.”

“That’s exciting.” Itachi adjusted his hold so the four year old was sitting on the cradle of his left arm. “You know what else is exciting?”

“I get to stay up past my bedtime tonight?” Sarada gasped excitedly, clapping her hands together.

“Yes, you do.” Itachi guided her into the woods, taking care not to trip over any raised roots. “And do you know why?”

“Hmm,”  Sarada hummed, rocking her head side to side with the sound. She raised her hands up and flexed her fingers. “Is it because of my nails?”

Itachi took one of her small hands in his own and rubbed his thumb along the small digits, tracing the curve of her sharp nails. “It’s because of your claws.”

There had been an incident in a playground where Sarada had accidentally scratched another child. The mother had been understanding and had actually offered Sasuke a pair of nail clippers to use. Sasuke apologized again and took Sarada home as quickly as possible.

Examining her hands when it was safe, he discovered that the top of Sarada’s pudgy toddler hands were covered with thick black hair and her nails elongated and sharp.

It demanded a call home. His real home.

“I like it here, Itachi-jisan.” Sarada sighed, lifting her head skyward and closing her eyes. “It smells so good.”

“It’s better than the city, that’s for sure.”

Itachi remembered his childhood. He remembered running through the woods and lying in clearings with Shisui and Izumi. He remembered playing tag with Sasuke to teach him how to shift from human to wolf and back.

It was all done here. This was home, this is where family should be together.

When he was younger, all Itachi wanted was to run away to the city. He wanted to live with the humans and never shift. He planned on taking the monkshood tea every full moon, and just sleep through the call that sang in his blood.

And for the first few years of adulthood he did just that. He went to university in the city and ignored the feeling of homesickness he figured was normal for all uni students. Visits home were rare, mostly done for holidays, and they were enough for him.

But there was a loneliness he could not shake in crowded places.

It wasn’t until he had to take a trip for work that had him in the mountains that he realized what had been missing.

“Mama said we might move here,” Sarada murmured out of habit. They never raised their voices in the woods, especially not during the day.

The two of them walked deeper into the forest. Itachi walked with Sarada as a guide as she sniffed the air and patted tree trunks and called out the names of different family members that had marked them.

“This is grandpa.” Sarada pressed her chubby cheek against the tree and drummed her fingers along the bark. “It smells like the gray-ish leaves Mama uses in tea sometimes.”

They continued walking, Shisui and Obito having joined them when they reached the creek that marked the boundary they had set up for Sarada’s first night in the woods. It was as the sun was setting lower that Sarada began to complain about feeling too hot.

“I don’t like it,” she whined, her hair sticking to her cheeks from all of her sweat. Her face flushed red from her fever despite the fact that Itachi had removed her coat.

“I know, I know,” Itachi attempted to soothe her, rubbing his hand on her back.

Despite the insistence from everyone that her facial features were just like her mother’s, Itachi was reminded of a time over two decades in the past where he was doing the same for his younger brother. With her tiny face scrunched up in discomfort, Sarada reminded him so much of Sasuke when he had first shifted. He had complained so much about the heat and stripped himself in their backyard long before the sun had set.

Sasuke had also been an early bloomer. He had heard the call before the Wolf Moon and had shifted three months earlier on the Harvest Moon. The Cold Moon was only a month early, but Sarada was proving to be her father’s daughter.

Brushing her wet bangs out of her face, Itachi smiled softly at his niece. “How about we get you some tea?”

His mother was ready with a pot of monkshood tea on the engawa when they made it back to the house. Madara was already drinking his first serving.

Sakura perked up from where she was bringing out another blanket for Great-Uncle Madara. She set it by him and placed his hand on the blanket before rushing towards them, arms outstretched.

“My poor girl.” Sakura took Sarada from Itachi’s hold and Sarada pressed her face into the crook of Sakura’s neck, grateful for the feel of her mother’s cool skin.

Itachi grabbed a second teacup from the tray his mother had brought out and filled it. The tea was an Uchiha family recipe that helped young pups and the elderly with the effects of the forced shift that came with the full moon. It also helped when they had to hide their shift in populated areas. A strong brew made one drowsy and sleep the night away so that they didn’t run the risk of falling victim to their instincts in a dangerous place.

“Some of the monkshood tea might help.”

Sakura eyed the teacup warily but took the offering regardless. Itachi had to resist rolling his eyes in annoyance. He was sure if it had been anyone else, she would have taken the cup without any hesitation. His relationship with his sister-in-law wasn’t the best━they were tolerant of each other, but she still hadn’t gotten over the way he had tried to drag Sasuke back home and away from the life he had built for himself in the city. Itachi wouldn’t have pushed the matter if he hadn’t believed it was what was best for Sasuke.

But tonight wasn’t about them or even Sasuke. It was about Sarada.

“Maybe,” Sasuke fell back on his butt and took a seat next to him, not caring for the snow, “you need a pup of your own?”

Itachi scoffed around the hair tie he held between his teeth. He had been in the middle of braiding Sarada’s hair so that it would be away from her face and neck. Sakura had placed a cold compress to her forehead, but there wasn’t much else they could do.

“If I was worried about my own pups, I wouldn’t have time for Sara-chan.” Itachi pinched at Sarada’s cheek and blew a raspberry against the other, making her giggle. “Right?”

“Right!” Sarada chirped, nodding her head seriously.

The temperature dropped with the sun and Sarada finally relaxed, the chill of the winter breeze a relief on her overheated flesh. The relief came but so did the excess energy building up within her. Itachi had to keep her from running off toward any rustling distraction.

Her excitement sent splashes of black tea and cinnamon into the air. Itachi always enjoyed how their scents related through tea, even if it was a loose connection.

“Will you show me how to hunt?” Sarada raised her hands up to mimic claws and pulled back her lips to show off her gums in a snarl. She growled playfully at him until he reached for her ribs and tickled her.

“Not tonight. You’re still too young.”

Sarada sighed in disappointment, her small shoulders drooping. Pouting, she fell back so she was seated in Itachi’s lap, her back to his chest. They enjoyed the silence and the snowfall for a moment until Sarada sat up, alert.

Itachi could feel the rise of his hair on his arms as his flesh rippled with goose pimples, but he kept his eyes on Sarada. He knew what this feeling was, had years of this feeling, but it was new to her. Sarada’s head moved from side to side as she searched for the source of what made her so jittery. It had been so long since Itachi had seen a new wolf pup feel the call.

Itachi had dealt with the forced shift for over twenty-seven years. That was over 324 moons of turning into what Madara called their true form. The heat that had once been too much to bear, he now embraced and let it settle inside of him.

There was high pitched whine and Itachi turned to the source and found a much larger black wolf than him nuzzling the curled up form of his niece. Sarada was trembling, the change a much slower process for her as she didn’t know what to expect and was fighting against it even with the sedation properties of the monkshood tea.

The large wolf━Sasuke━pressed his snout against Sarada’s cheek and made small, reassuring grunting sounds deep in his throat. Matching the sounds, Itachi pressed his own snout to the underside of Sarada’s jaw and licked. Slowly, Sarada’s whimpers ceased and her trembling settled to a few odd twitches. She was still in the half human, half wolf state but she was much calmer.

As much as she reminded Itachi of Sasuke, he needed to remember that Sarada was her own person. Sasuke took to being a wolf much easier and he had embraced his shift immediately. As excited as Sarada was to be with her family, the shift was frightening her.

“Pa...Papa…” Sarada’s voice was swallowed by canine whimpers as her snout and throat fully formed. Sasuke tore at her clothing as her limbs transformed into those of a wolf and she became entangled in the fabric. Itachi helped speed up the process by ripping at her leggings.

By the time they had freed Sarada of her human clothing, she had finished shifting. She shook her body, spraying snow everywhere and shaking off the remaining pieces of her clothes. Sarada spun in circles, chasing her own tail and when she tired of that she nipped at the air around Sasuke’s and his tails.

She ran around the yard, stumbling over her own legs, but righting herself up and running as if she never fell over to begin with. She circled around her father and Itachi before bounding up the engawa and rubbing against the sleepy form of Madara. Madara lifted his head and nipped at her ear in warning and then snuggled under his blankets when Sarada scooted away from him.

Sarada crawled towards her mother and threw herself at Sakura’s lap. Sakura cooed at her daughter, scratching at the space between her ears. Sarada enjoyed the affection until she no longer could stay still. She leaped off of the engawa and dashed towards her father and uncle, yipping excitedly.

A howl came from within the woods. The others had already made their way into the forest when they felt the call to shift. Howls soon followed from other members of their pack. Sarada looked towards the trees and back to Sasuke and then Itachi. She nodded towards the tree and bounced around them in excitement. Sasuke bowed his head in a nod and Sarada shuffled into a proper sitting stance. Raising her head towards the sky, she howled━high and at some pitches weak, but it was a howl.

From the forest, howls were returned.

Itachi nudged Sarada with his snout, pushing her towards the forest. She needed no more encouragement and raced towards the tree line where the howls carried on.

Family was beckoning her forward.

[anjuschiffer]

A Parent’s Misadventures

So... someone asked and they got a sequel (of some sorts) to Dada?

Enjoy :D

-----

AO3

-----

Being a parent had its woes, but if you asked Jason and Marinette, watching their daughter grow up was rewarding, many firsts being the everlasting, heartwarming moments for them.

Her first steps brought tears to their eyes.

Jason was cleaning his bloody gear in the living room, Bridgette playing with her toys when she eyed something even better than the bean-filled water bottle- a knife. 

However, the knife was on the coffee table, higher than what Bridgette can reach… unless she stood up. 

So after six attempts on trying to balance herself, Bridgette stood firmly, noting her father was gawking at her, his mouth opening and closing before he scrambled to grab his phone. 

Hoping it would work, Bridgette placed one foot in front of her, hearing gasps as she almost fell back, but quickly balanced herself. 

It wasn’t hard. She can do this. Taking several steps towards the coffee table, she heard her parents scream and cry as she finally made it to the table, grinning as she got hold of the knife and turned to her parents for appraisal. 

Her parents quickly praised, squishing her cheeks Bridgette noticing their faces pale considerably. 

They ripped the knife away from her hand, Bridgette wondering why they took it away from her and proceeded to cry. 

——-

Her first friend, a boy named Evan Johnson 

The Johnsons had finished moving in next door, Marinette jumping up and down, excited to finally have a neighbor after the apartment next door being vacant for a whole two years. 

She quickly prepared a quiche, blabbering to Jason how it was a family secret, giggling when she told Jason he couldn’t have some and watched as he and their daughter pouted in unison. 

Of course, that pout turned into a frown when Marinette dragged him to help welcome their neighbors, a nice couple from New York. 

Maya and Kyle had recently obtained a new scoop at Gotham, having to move Gotham to get it. 

However, seeing as the two couldn’t find a sitter nor relatives who can watch over Evan, they brought him along, worried to death about his safety. 

“Don’t worry about a thing.” Marinette stated, cutting up the quiche. “You’re in the luckiest place in Gotham. No crimes here in two years.” 

“Because you made sure- hey!” Jason yelped when Mari slapped his hand as he reached for a piece. 

“The Johnson’s first.” Mari growled, something in the corner of her eye catching her attention. “Is Evan still learning to walk?” 

“Yes! Even though he knows how to balance himself perfectly-“ Kyle started

“He still hasn’t quite got the confidence to walk on his own.” Maya ended.

“Well,” Mari pointed towards the kitchen doorway, the four adults turning to see Bridgette guiding Evan, holding his hand. 

Mari stifled a snort when she saw Jason narrow his eyes and grumble something under his breath. 

“His first steps!” Maya and Kyle rejoiced, Mari smiling as she watched them fish for their cameras, praising their little tyke. 

“Look at these-“

“I bet we were like that when Bridgette learned to walk.” Mari said softly, relaxing into Jason’s arm. Resting his head against Mari’s, Jason sighed. 

“I bet we were… with the exception of panicking because she had a knife in her hand.”

“Well she only got it because someone thought cleaning blood covered equipment at the coffee table was a good idea.”

“Listen, there was a table. All my equipment needed cleaning. You were cooking at the kitchen table. Where else did you expect me to clean?”

Mari raised a brow. Jason gulped. 

“You could’ve cleaned them outside.”

“And risk getting caught?”

“Since when did you care about that?” Jason opened and closed his mouth to fight back, but nothing came out. “I thought so.”

———

Her first pet -courtesy of Uncle Damian- a Doberman Bridgette had named Bunny.

Bunny was an energetic one year old girl, but three-year old Bridgette didn’t care 

“Bridgette honey, Bunny isn’t a horse.”

“But I fit.” Bridgette reasoned, laying on top of Bunny, who simply let the child be. The tiny human was a walking heat pack after all.

“Damian, thank you for the gift.” Jason said, ruffling Damian’s hair. He wondered if he should ask Damian about any dog trainers to train Bunny into becoming a guard dog.

“Bridgette said she wanted a dog, so of course I complied with her wish.” Damian said, smiling as his niece decided to close her eyes for a quick nap.

“Damian, you’re spoiling her.”

“Mari has a point.” Jason grinned, Mari narrowing her eyes even more. “Does the animal shelter you fund have any rottweilers or pitbulls up for adoption?”

“Let me check.”

“DAMIAN. YOU BETTER NOT-”

“We do and they’re currently on their way.” Damian said with a smirk, a smirk that easily rivaled Jason’s own.

“Mon Dieu.” Mari cried, dragging her hands down her face.

------

But one of the things Marinette and Jason both wanted and yet didn’t want was that dreadful first phone call from school.

Marinette was in the middle of a consultation, already wrapping it up with her client when her two phones started to ring simultaneously.

Apologizing and quickly shoo-ing the client away, Mari picked both phones up, having her personal phone on speaker while she held the other one close to her ear. As soon as she heard Jason speaking on her private phone, she quickly told him to be silent for a while when her business phone started to speak.

“Is this Miss Todd’s number?”

“Speaking.”

“I apologize for disrupting your busy schedule-”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you, but I still do apologize for your first phone call from your daughter’s school to be about… this.”

Now worried, Marinette quickly starts packing her things, muttering a few words to Jason before making handwritten notes for her secretary, giving it to her as she left.

“Did something happen to Bridgette? Mon Dieu! Is she okay?”

“She is, but the other child isn’t.” A scream was heard in the background, causing Marinette to quicken her walk towards the elevator. “Can you please come to the school as soon as you can?”

“Of course! I’ll be there in 15 minutes!”

-----

Jason howled with laughter, Marinette flushed with embarrassment, slapping Jason’s arm in hopes of calming him down, but it had the opposite effect. His howls grew louder.

“I-I see… so that’s what happened.” Marinette said quietly, wondering where they went wrong… or rather right...

“We know that it was an accident and apologies were exchanged, but we want to prevent this from happening again in the future.”

“Of course, Madam Daichi.” Marinette got up and bowed, gesturing Jason to do the same. “We’ll talk with Bridgette to prevent this from happening again.”

With that, the two parents left the principal’s office, picking up Bridgette from her classroom along the way.

“We’re going to have a long talk Catherine.”

-----

“So Bridgette, did you really punch Olwin square on his jaw?” Jason asked sternly, Bridgette fidgeting under her father’s gaze.

The trip home was quiet, Bridgette possibly able to hear one of her mother’s sewing needles if they dared drop inside the car. Not a single word was uttered as they made their way to her room.

“I didn’t mean to, but he didn’t want to lend Petunia the paint brush and he even pushed her. So I punched him.” Bridgette pursed her lips, retraining herself from crying, baring the stinging of her eyes. “I’m going to be grounded, aren’t I?”

Jason’s attitude quickly flipped, picking up his daughter, spinning her around, laughing as he did. Bridgette was left dumbfounded at her father’s behavior. Didn’t she do something wrong?

“That’s my girl!” Jason praised, putting Bridgette down, ruffling her hair. “Your form was great! Really proud of you!”

“Jason!” Marinette cried out, standing next to him with her arms crossed. Jason sheepishly smiled, yelping when Mari pinched his arm. “You weren’t suppose to talk about her stance. Yes it was perfect but we didn’t teach her to punch properly if she was going to punch a classmate.”

“But Maman! Olwin-”

“Bridgette. Catherine. Todd.” Marinette sternly said, enunciating each name. “Yes, he did something wrong, but that was not the way to handle it.”

“So what did you want me to do?”

“Speak up.” Mari said softly, wrapping her arms around her girl, feeling Bridgette do the same. “You could’ve gotten a teacher to help you mon chou. That’s what they are there for. To help.”

“What if that didn’t work.”

“That’s when you take it upon yourself to act.” Marinette said, gently pushing Bridgette away from her, noticing tears stream down her cheeks.” Promise me you’ll talk with a teacher first before you decide to punch another child again.”

“I promise.”

-----

Oh how Marinette wished to have made Bridgette also promise to not talk about her side job as well as Jason’s.

“-so it caused us a great amount of concern when we saw her drawing.”

“I understand.” Marinette said, looking at the picture in her hands. Oh how she wanted to curl up and stay hidden forever. 

There on the white sheet of paper was Jason and Marinetter, or should she say RED HOOD and LADYBIRD!

Oh mon Dieu! 

“So why exactly did Bridgette say-”

“My husband and I helped out a close friend of ours with a short film in regards to the two vigilantes of Gotham.” Marinette said in one breath, giving the principal a smile. “I think you’ve heard of him, Nino Lahiffe?”

“That’s right!” The principal said, clapping her hands together. “He did mention making a film with Red Hood and Ladybird as his next project!”

“That’s right!” Marinette said through her teeth, glad that Lady Luck hadn’t left her side. “He needed to someone to do a quick visual for his project and seeing as he needed help, we offered him our help, so-”

------

After giving Bridgette an earful as to why she couldn’t talk about their jobs as vigilantes to her friends, Marinette and Jason had to leave to go to ‘work.’

Tying up the criminal with zip-ties, Ladybird let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong this time mon lutin?” Red Hood asked, throwing the other criminal over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Do you think I went too far on Bridgette?” 

“Of course not.” Red Hood said, noticing that his words had no effect on her. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“But she can’t speak about this.” Ladybird motioned to her getup, to her black leather jacket and all black spandex suit. Five red dots laid on her chest. The mark of the ladybug Jason called them. “We can’t make her a target for the criminals of Gotham.”

“I know sweetheart.” Red Hood said softly, nudging his helmet against her forehead. “But Bridgette doesn’t need to be sheltered and protected like some fragile jewel. She’s strong. She can protect herself. She has us, the rest of my family, ready to have her back if anything were to happen to her.”

Ladybird let out a sigh, a small smile gracing her lips. 

“You’re right. We’ll always protect her.”

“Always.” Red Hood repeated, hauling the criminal Ladybird had tied up onto his other shoulder. “Though, you have to admit, Cathy talking about us as her heroes was kinda cool.”

“You mean adorable.” Ladybird corrected, smiling at the thought. He was right. Bridgette thought they were heroes. She loved them. They were her heroes

“Now come on. We have a tiny robin awaiting us back at the nest.”

With a nod, the duo disappeared into the night, not being able to bare another second away from their robin. 

.

.

.

What happened earlier that day...

Bridgette watched a shadow loom over her, already knowing who it was. With a grin she looked up at her teacher.

“What did you draw Bridgette?” 

“My family!” Bridgette said with a smile, the teacher giving her a nervous laugh. Why was one of her ‘parents’ drawn with what appeared to be guns at each of their sides? And why did the other figure have a person under their foot?

“I-Is that so?” 

“Yeah!” Bridgette smiled even more as she intensified the red on her father’s drawing, but shortly stopped. Was there something wrong with the picture of her parents?

Sure, they don’t look the same, but they were still the same people, with or without the masks. 

They kept her safe, they kept others safe.

They protected everyone in Gotham…what was wrong with that?

“Who are they supposed to be?” Olwin scoffed, looking at her drawing with disgust. Standing up in annoyance, Bridgette lifted her drawing into the air, catching the attention of her classmates.

“This is the drawing of my parents! They’re my heroes! I love them a lot!” She smiled when her classmates ‘ooed’ and ‘awed’ at her drawing. “After tucking me into bed, they become your heroes too!”

“W-what do you mean by that sweetie?” The teacher asked, only to be ignored by the tiny girl.

“Do they fight bad guys?”

“You bet they do! They go pow!” Brigette said, punching into the air, making Olwin flinch. “And bam! The bad guys never cross them twice! Maman and Papa are too strong to be taken down!”

Her classmates cheered and made a racket with their toys, the teacher attempting to calm them down, but to no avail.

“Do they have cool powers?”

“No, but Maman uses her very,very,  heavy -hundred times heavy- yo-yo and knocks their fu- frogging lights off.” Bridgette exclaims, quickly remembering what happened when her mom caught her saying something her dad usually says. “Papa has these really, really quiet guns that when he goes pew, pew, it’s really hard to hear them. But that makes the bad guys super scared of him and they shi- slip on their own pee-pee and run away!”

Oh god. She almost cursed again. She will not suffer through that punishment ever again. Ever.

The teacher began to panic when a cult started to form in her classroom, the children cheering as Bridgette continued to answer questions, the teacher finally deciding to call for backup.

Oh how Bridgette wished she kept quiet about her parent’s hero jobs.

Little did she know she knew she was going to get an earful from her mother that evening and have to clean her neighbor’s apartment as punishment. 

And no, she wasn’t referring to Evan’s house. She was talking about Mr. Perri’s apartment… 

Mr.Perri… the many with two rooms filled to the brim with insects from all around the world…

Insects that terrified the shit out of her…

Oh how Bridgette wished she didn’t let Olwin get under her skin… if only she kept that secret to herself.

P.Taglist: @theatreandcomicfreak

[mydearsaddiary]

Speakeasy Tonight fanfic Neil Season 3 Chapter 9- First, do no harm

This is PART 2, here’s part 1: https://mydearsaddiary.tumblr.com/post/627009658293485568/little-curiosity-notes-hey-guys-were-on-chapter

Mostly me, Vince and Donovan fired and fought against the goons. I couldn’t see where Uncle Charlie was, but I could see Cliff and Julius punching some of Adler’s fellas.

In the chaos, I distanced myself from my peers and found myself facing Mayor Adler himself. He pointed his gun at me, and I reciprocated doing the same right back to him. Time was once more still. Weird the things you notice in these moments, sounds of the water played in my ears, the smell of the docks filled my senses. It was a place that was more dangerous than, anyone else who wasn’t part of the mean and crude underworld of the city, would imagine. Trades of alcohol were common, more than one gang fight had happened there. It created and decimated many competitors. Transportation really seemed like a façade.

Now, my future was about to be decided in the same place. In this unlikely face-off between a pregnant mob boss lady and the Mayor of Chicago, a strong tall man who was supposed to be the epitome of righteousness, but instead was worse than any vermin this city possessed

-Well, Miss Granger. Seems like we’re both where we both knew we would eventually end up. Right to killing each other- A sinister smile took over his face

-No. You didn’t know- I replied, glaring at him- You thought you could lock me away forever, and that I’d never escape. Your mistake- I took a few steps towards him- Was thinking I could be tamed easily.

-I never thought that- He said in an angry tone, uncontrolled. The usual smile on his face was gone along with his composure- You’ll learn along with the others that I always win, no matter what

-You’re wrong again- I said- Bailey, Louis, Vera, and now you. I’ll teach you what happens when you try to mess with me or my family.

He was about to pull the trigger, and then an even taller figure ran into him, tackling him to the ground. Both men were now engaged in a fight, trying to overpower one another.

-Neil!-I exclaimed. But soon realized I needed to finish this. I ran to them trying to grab his gun, but with them fighting it was hard.

Adler pushed me away, punched Neil on his nose making it bleed, and got his gun. He then got up, pointing it right at the Doc.

-Don’t you dare!-I pointed my gun at him from the floor- Back away!

It was surprising to me that I could feel Neil wasn’t scared. It made me wander why that was, but at the moment I was too preoccupied with saving his life

-That’s always been your weakness, hasn’t it? You made up a band of brothers in your speakeasy and now none of them are replaceable! I never have that problem

-That’s the truth, Adler. Hired guns means you lose one and another one can quickly take it’s place, no feelings involved- I gripped my revolver tighter- However, when things get tough, none of them will be there to protect you

He took a look around. All of his goons were either defeated or had fled. Vince and Donovan pointed their guns at him, and Cliff held his baseball bat. Julius was by Uncle Charlie, who himself looked stronger than I had ever seen him with a gun in his hand also aimed at the mayor.

-Time you backed away from my niece, Adler.

His expression turned darker. He turned his focus back to me- Oh, I hate you, Ice Box Flapper. I always win.

My heart sank. I knew in that moment that he was about to pull the trigger on Neil. He was the one that kept me going through every problem the Ice Box has ever encountered since I arrived. I suddenly remembered every single vivid detail of the time we spent together.

How rude and condescending Doc Dresner first was, how he took care of me when I fainted, how he slowly softened up his hard edge, let me into his dark and cynical world. How he was the first to say “I love you”.

The possibility of all that being gone with just a single movement from the mayor overtook me in a way that made me lose my mind. In that moment I knew I could shoot someone

So I pulled my trigger before he had a chance to pull his

Right in the middle of his eyebrows a dark circle formed and started to bleed down his nose. His blank expression was haunted, and his body fell backwards into the massive waters in the dock. It tainted it an angry, cursed red. Soon, he was gone as suddenly as he had appeared in our lives.

Until a few months ago I had never had a gun pointed at me before. A sheltered life like the one I possessed meant I was always looking for danger for my own pleasure. However, this was the kind of danger that gave you adrenaline and made you feel alive, but at the same time made you want to scream, pull all your head off and scream until you can’t anymore. The ambiguity of what I had just done created a fight in my mind. This was the first time I had ever seen someone die and I was the perpetrator.

A silence took over. I guessed nobody really knew how to feel or react. But thankfully it ended when I felt the soft touch of the Doc grabbing my arm. My head then turned and my eyes met his. The blue in them made me dizzy, swooned with love. The grace in this moment was amplified. I felt grief for my own innocence, disgusted and somewhat evil, like I’d lost myself. Looking into his eyes, however, I was found. I was loved and alive. I was as disturbed as I was happy to see him again.

-Are you alright?- He said in a whisper

-Yeah...-I said relieved- Yeah, I’m fine. How are you?

-He...-He ignored the question and his hand travelled slowly to my stomach- He’s...?

I nodded, leaning over to hug him tight- Im sorry- It was all I could say

-Never mind that now- He got up, helping me do the same

-Kiddo- Charlie came our way and embraced me. I hugged the old man back. How I had missed him- You alright?

-I’m copacetic! Grangers are tough!- I gave him a soft smile, then looked at all of them now around us

-Gave us a scare- Vince said. It put my heart at ease to see him alive

-Vince, I thought he killed you, what happened?

-He tried to- He shrugged- Two weeks in the hospital was all he got out of me. Besides, now I can let you know.

I smiled softly at him- Guess I should thank all of you for saving my life.

-Where the credit is due, you saved yourself and us along with it- Neil said

-Besides, don’t thank us, fix the three weeks worth of accounts and numbers at the Ice Box and we’re even

I laughed- Yes, I can’t imagine what a horror they must look, no offense, Unc

-Im just glad you’re fine, kid- He pointed at my stomach- Now, what’s this about?

Neil went pale- I’m taking full responsibility for it Charles.

-Well, you better.- He glared at him, but soon smiled- Well, with the wedding I guess it’s fine, we’ll just have to hurry it up a bit. Besides, I was waiting for some grandnephews!

-Besides, who would have thought?- Vince said- Neil’s gonna be a daddy!

-Back off, Moretti- He gave him his angriest expression- Let’s get out of here- Neil said- I’ll take MC to my infirmary and-

-What should we do about her?-Donovan pointed at a scared Vera- I thought she quit town

Oh yeah, I almost forgot about my temporary roomie-Turns out Adler was keeping her hostage, like he did to me- I walked over to Vera- Here’s what we’ll do. Donovan, say you investigated the mayor, found out Vera was being held against her will. You tried to arrest him but he ran away with his goons. Haven’t been seen since. That should discredit him in every way possible- I sighed- And save Vera’s reputation- I said that part less enthusiastically. It meant she’d still be around again to give us a headache

-Crazy mayor locks down own wife, not seen in Chicago, sound good, lassie. Might get me a promotion

-Then I’ll leave- Vera said- For good. I don’t ever want to see this town again

I looked at her surprised and smiled-Works fine by me, Vera- I went back to Neil’s side- I want a hot shower now!- I said stretching.-Hm...-I wandered a little- I need something to lift my spirits. Party at the Ice Box tonight!

In the back of my mind I tried to lock away the fact that I had just killed a man. I was free, Neil was alive, the Ice Box was safe and all was right in the world. I was letting myself celebrate.

_________

Turns out Neil took me to his infirmary after all. He had me laying down in a new fresh set of clothes. He examined the bump and myself in every way he could. It was sweet, but it was unsettling to see him this nervous

-Come here, Neil- I sat up calling him

-I just need to finish-

-Sit!-I pointed at the chair in front of me

He sighed, but obeyed my harsh tone, and then his eyes stared at me. I grabbed the wet cloth on the table, washing off the dried blood on his face

-You get hurt too, so I’m not the only one who needs to be cared for

-I’m not the one who went AWOL for weeks- I spent a few minutes cleaning his nose, and then he gently touched my hand- MC... When you didn’t come back that night I... Well, let’s just say I wasn’t in one of my best moments. And then I saw him pointing that gun at you today... I swore an oath to do no harm, but I was about to commit murder today if it was necessary.

I squeezed his hand- Well, you didn’t need to- I looked down- Because I did- Tears formed in my eyes. In front of him, it was so easy to open up my heart- I don’t regret it, but-

He held my face, getting closer- Hey... MC. You’re a real bearcat, you know that?

I chuckled- Tough as nails

-Nevertheless, you’re done now, alright? I can’t risk you, the both of you, anymore

-Okay, I mean, I can’t stop running the box, but I’ll take it easy on the evil rascals and guns and all that

-Yeah, well, I’ll be tougher on you this time

-Neil, I- I flinched, any will to fight him on that decision suddenly disappeared- Oh my God...- My eyes widened with surprise

-What?! What’s wrong?

I grabbed him hand, putting it back on my stomach- He’s kicking! Feel it, feel it?!

I took a little while but his expression softened, as much as Neil would let it soften-I feel it.

-Oh, there he goes again!

-I feel it too, right there- And back and forth we went. Nothing else mattered in that moment. He gave the unborn child one of his big smiles. In my heart I was scared he wouldn’t want it, or that he would lose his mind. But all I saw was concern mixed with happiness

In that instant, we had a silent agreement. We would forget all the mistakes of the past and focus on the future. With no words, we promised to be there to protect each other, to love and support one another and raise our baby as best as we could. We’d walk side by side...

... Until death do us part.

______

Thank you for reading this chapter! I’ll see you in the next and final chapter of my fanfic: Speakeasy Tonight Neil Season 3

Next Chapter: I do

[fanficshiddles]

His ray of sunshine, Chapter 2

Keira felt like she was going to be sick when she approached Tom’s cabin.

She couldn’t look up at him, even when she reached the top of the steps. She just froze, head down. Not that that was a bad thing really, showing respect to the Alpha. Especially the leader.

Tom looked at Jessica and nodded. Jessica then took a few steps back, leaving them some space.

He looked over the young omega, his heart swelling with happiness and pride upon finally seeing her. He’d seen pictures, and had thought she was a lovely little thing. But seeing her in reality now, she was even more beautiful.

Keira was visibly trembling when he stepped in close, right on front of her. His scent enveloped her completely, she took in a sharp breath, feeling slightly light headed. He smelled amazing.

Tom reached out and hooked her chin, tilting her head up so she had to look at him.

A gasp escaped from Keira when she laid eyes upon the Alpha.

He was bloody gorgeous...

But also intimidating. His height factored into that, he towered over the poor little omega. And his eye contact was intense. But she felt a weird pull towards him, an odd kind of warmth inside. Like she just wanted him to wrap his arms around her and protect her.

‘What’s your name, little one?’ Tom asked, his voice deep and sultry, making her tremble.

Tom already knew her name, but he wanted to hear it from herself.

‘Keira… Sir.’ She said quietly.

‘Just call me Tom.’ He smiled softly, putting her slightly more at ease for the first time since meeting. ‘But I appreciate your respect, such pretty manners.’ He hummed, stroking his thumb up across her lower lip.

He was yet to let go of her chin, she wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. But the contact, as little as it was, from the Alpha was making her feel rather hot and bothered. And it was like her bones were jelly.

Tom let go of her chin and eyed her up and down once more, then locked onto her eyes. ‘How was your journey here? I know you came far.’

‘It was good… Thank you. I’ve never been out of the city before, it’s so beautiful out here. Your home is wonderful and the lake is stunning. Just not being surrounded by concrete buildings is…’ She trailed off, realising she was rambling. ‘Sorry.’ She said quickly and looked down.

Jessica noticed a half smirk spread across Tom’s face. She knew he was enamoured by her already, and that was a great thing.

‘Do not apologise. I’m glad you like it here. Michael told me that you are good at painting, is this true?’ Tom asked, still watching and listening to her closely.

‘It is. There is so much out here that would be wonderful to paint.’ Her face lit up as she glanced around, noting all the flowers about.

Michael was watching Ben while he drank his beer, noting the way he hadn’t looked away from

Tom’s cabin since Keira had went up to introduce herself to Tom. He really hoped things weren’t going to kick off with him. He wanted his niece to be Tom’s, knowing he would look after her well. Ben, whilst he was his friend, he wouldn’t trust him with an omega. Especially not one as delicate and trusting as Keira. She had a lot to learn about the world, having been so sheltered up to now.

Ben wasn’t the only one that was noting how long Keira had been. Lucy noticed too after she returned from the walk with Tilda.

‘Why are they taking so long? It was just a minute or two with me.’ She said, jealousy evident in her tone.

The pack all looked at one another, neither particularly wanting to deal with her. But they weren’t a nasty pack, they wouldn’t want to just chuck her out either. Though they knew they were going to have to contact her previous pack to request she can return. Not wanting to see her alone and vulnerable in the world.

‘Perhaps they have already imprinted on one another.’ Idris suggested, just coming straight out with it. Earning a glare and a nudge from Tilda.

Lucy looked hurt, not pleased at all with that. And so did Ben.

Imprinting was rare, where an Alpha and an omega immediately had a rather strong attraction towards one another. It was more regular if the two had similar interests, too. Other Alphas could still try and steal the omega from the Alpha before they were claimed, but most Alphas respected the imprint nowadays…

‘There are some rules I will need to go over with yourself and the other omega, for joining my pack. Why don’t you go back to the others? I will join you shortly…’ He reached out and stroked Keira’s cheek with the back of his hand. Then he looked to Jessica. ‘Will you send Michael up, please?’

‘Of course.’ Jessica nodded.

She led Keira back down to the pack. Keira kept looking back over her shoulder at Tom, her heart was racing so fast. But in a good way.

That hadn’t gone as bad as she thought it would. He was slightly scary, in an intimidating and powerful kind of way. But he had been gentle with her and kind. She really hoped she could get to know him more, perhaps.

‘He likes you.’ Jessica said quietly to her on their way back down to the decking.

‘You think?’ Keira asked, hopeful.

‘Definitely. He’s never normally a touchy-feely kind of guy. He didn’t get close to Lucy.’

When the two joined the others, Keira felt some hostility from Lucy. So she sat between Jessica and Tilda again.  

Jessica sent Michael up to speak to Tom.

‘Well? Do you like her?’ Michael asked Tom, sitting on the bench that was outside of Tom’s cabin. Tom sat down too.

‘Very much. She’s incredibly sweet and beautiful. Rather optimistic with life, isn’t she?’

‘Indeed. She has had a sheltered life so far, never out of the city. My brother is also slightly old fashioned in the way that he doesn’t think omegas should be out-with the house often. She would go to school, come home and do homework then have dinner and go to bed. She would be allowed in the garden, then the park down their street on weekends. But that’s it. She was worried if she was to stay here, that she wouldn’t be allowed outside, ever. I assured her we weren’t like that here.’ Michael explained.

Tom stroked his beard in thought. ‘She’s a very bright girl, I can tell. Seems respectful too. I am guessing her parents were quite strict in her teachings in regards to what she was to expect and do with her future Alpha?’

‘Yep.’ Michael nodded.

‘I want her, Michael.’ Tom growled low, eyes on Keira down by the lake.

Michael sighed and sat forward, leaning on his knees. ‘The process still has to take place, you know that more than me. Can’t risk getting into trouble with the law.’

Tom’s nose scrunched up angrily. ‘I know… I just wish there was a way to bypass it.’ He grumbled.

When pack leaders wanted an omega, they had to acquire a minimum of two omegas who had just turned of age, from other packs, to live with them for a week. To allow the leader to get to know and decide which omega he wanted. If any of them. But they had to remain in the pack for at least a week, it was the law for fairness of the omegas.

‘It’s just seven days. It will give you both more of a chance to bond and get to know one another before she moves in with you.’ Michael said to try and make it a bit better for him.

‘I guess so. In the meantime, we have Lucy to deal with.’ Tom sighed.

When he and Michael went to join the others, Tom grabbed a seat and put it by the barbecue, where he could see Keira clearly on front of him. He also grabbed a beer from Jeremy.

‘I’d like to go over the rules of the pack for our two new recruits.’ Tom announced, silencing everyone.

Keira listened closely while he spoke.

‘Omegas don’t leave the boundary without being with an Alpha, which is the tree line across the lake, there.’ He pointed to the other side of the lake. ‘The edge of the lake at that side.’ He pointed behind him. ‘The track at the other side... And to the fence-line of the field at the back of the cabins.’

Keira was amazed at that, it was huge. The area was larger than her parents house was to her school back in the city. It was so much freedom in comparison.

Tom continued with the pack rules. ‘If anyone gets even a hint of a scent from another pack, I must be notified immediately. You are not to enter any of the other cabins without express permission from the Alpha of the home. No swimming in the lake without someone supervising, it’s too dangerous alone.’

Jeremy and Luke rolled their eyes at that rule.

‘And finally, what I say goes. I have the last say in matters.’ Tom said firmly. ‘Any questions?’ He looked between the two new omegas.

Keira shook her head, understanding them all perfectly.

‘All good, Alpha.’ Lucy said loudly.

Tom narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Do not call me that, it is disrespectful to an Alpha unless he owns you.’  

Lucy’s smile dropped and she looked down.

‘Grubs up!’ Luke said as he started dishing up some of the food off the barbecue, hoping to change the subject.

Tom noticed his apron and shook his head.

Keira was waiting till the other Alphas had been to get food, but Tom went over to her when he noticed she hadn’t made a move.

‘Are you not hungry?’

‘I… I just wanted to wait until you all had yours first.’ She said quietly.

‘None of that here. Come on, before Idris steals all the best meat.’ Tom grinned at her and motioned her over to the food.

Keira went and got some food with a smile. It was quite a relaxed atmosphere. Jeremy and Luke were joking around, everyone was pretty laid back. Even Tom seemed to be enjoying the evening by the lake.

He kept looking at Keira, enjoying the blush on her cheeks when she saw him looking at her. She couldn’t maintain eye contact, quickly looking away each time.

Ben had moved to sit next to her, hoping to get to know her more.

‘So, you’re from the city?’ He asked.

‘I am, yes.’ She nodded, feeling slightly on edge with the Alpha being so close. He didn’t smell as nice as Tom did. And the way he had been staring at her the entire time was very un-nerving, like he wanted to literally eat her alive.

‘This must be really different compared to what you’re used to.’

‘It is. But it’s beautiful. I’m looking forward to doing some paintings of the lake.’ Keira smiled.

‘Paintings?’ Ben frowned.

‘Yeah. I really enjoy doing art, especially painting.’

In Ben’s mind, painting wasn’t something that an omega should be wasting her time doing. But he didn’t say anything. Though the look on his face told Keira everything she needed to know, really.

Tom was normally a very patient man. He was known for his calm and collected head, even in high stress situations. But Lucy was really trying his patience with her jabbering. She was following him everywhere he went, whether it was to get more food, or another drink, or following him when he merely walked to the side of the lake to chat to others.

All Lucy was getting in return when she spoke to him was various ‘hmm’ or ‘mmhmm’.

Later on in the evening, Tom finally managed to sit next to Keira. After just watching her most of the night, he was glad to get a chance to talk to her.

‘Have you eaten enough, little one?’ He asked softly.

‘I have. Thank you.’ She smiled with a nod. She rather liked the nickname he seemed to already have for her, it made her feel fuzzy inside.

‘Aside from painting, what other hobbies do you have?’ Tom turned his body in towards her, giving her his full attention.

She couldn’t stop blushing, it was just being so close to him and having his full attention. She knew how strong and powerful he was, she could smell it. But he seemed really kind and calm, too. All high qualities that drew an omega towards an Alpha.

‘I really enjoyed running when I was in secondary school, I was in the omegas racing team. I also like reading.’

Tom’s eyes lit up. ‘What kind of books do you enjoy best?’

‘Adventure and drama mainly. Do you like to read too?’ Keira asked, sipping on her drink.

‘I do. Shakespeare’s work is my favourite. But I’m pretty open to all genres. You seem like the kind of girl who would be into theatre?’ Tom guessed.

‘I’ve… never been before. But I have seen some plays when they’ve been broadcast online. My parents would often go, I always wanted to go but wasn’t allowed… Not that I’d expect to be able to go anyway.’ She said quickly, not wanting to get into trouble with the Alpha.

Tom made a mental note to take her next time there was a play on in the nearby town. They had a small theatre there that often had good plays and musicals on.

They didn’t get long to speak together before the distinct smell of jealousy filled the air and Lucy skipped over and squeezed herself right down between Tom and Keira on the log, completely ignoring Keira and turning to face Tom. Making him shift back to get some space between them.

Jessica looked at Michael and they both sighed. Feeling sorry for Keira.

‘Hey, Keira. Come catch up with your ol’ Uncle.’ Michael slid across the log and patted the space between himself and Jessica.

Ben was irritated as he had been on his way to ask Keira to go for a walk with him. But he went over to Luke and Jeremy instead, still glancing over in the young omegas direction now and then.

Tilda leaned in to Idris. ‘I have never smelt so many different pheromones all at once before.’ She whispered.

‘Tell me about it. I feel sorry for poor Keira.’ Idris whispered back.

When it started to get dark, everyone decided to call it a night. Tom said goodnight to everyone and his gaze lingered on Keira for longer, giving her a warm smile before heading up to his cabin.

Jessica put her arm around Keira’s shoulder and took her back to their cabin.

‘Well, how was your first day here?’ Jessica asked once they got inside.

‘A bit of a mix of emotions.’ Keira said honestly. She was exhausted, mentally and physically.

‘You’ll feel better after a good sleep. What did you think of Tom?’

‘I really like him.’ She blushed. ‘He’s really handsome… and he seems nice.’

Jessica grinned. ‘Glad you think so. Because I could tell that he likes you too. We just have to get through the week, then that Lucy can leave.’

‘I never realised that omegas could be like that. She seemed… not so nice.’ Keira sighed and sat down on her bed.

‘Omegas can be just as nasty as Alphas can. Especially if an Alpha she wants has his eye on another omega. But don’t worry, we will look out for you and won’t let her do anything.’ Jessica assured her. ‘Now, get some sleep.’ Jessica kissed the side of her head, making her smile.

‘Night night. Thank you.’ Keira said when Jessica left her room, shutting the door behind her with a smile.

[just-jordie-things]

Protection - Nicholas Scratch

word count: 3080 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) is supposed to be helping her family at Baxter High to overcome the Greendale Thirteen and the red Angel of Death, but Nick is too overprotective to have her out of his sight.

Sabrina raced up the stairs of her house in a panic, tripping up a few times but running faster until she reached her cousin’s room.

“(y/n)!” She screamed aloud, banging her fists on the door, hard.  “(y/n)! Open up! It’s an emergency!”

The door opened through a spell and Sabrina walked into to see her cousin sitting on her bed in pajamas, a book of spells open in front of her, and a worried look on her face.

“What’s wrong cousin-”

“The- the Greendale thirteen- I-I need to- I need your help” Sabrina stammered over her words as she caught her breath.  (y/n) got out of bed right away, snapping her fingers and changing into a more appropriate outfit.

“Brina, breathe,” She cooed softly, setting her hands on her shoulders.

Sabrina had been living an increasingly chaotic life ever since she’d refused to sign her name in the Book of the Beast, and (y/n) took a great amount of pity on her younger cousin for it.  She was always happy to help, but since she was a full time student at the Academy of the Unseen Arts, she wasn’t around often enough to help as much as she could be.

“Now tell me,” She said once Sabrina had composed herself.  “What do you need me to do?”

“I need to summon the Greendale Thirteen,” Sabrina told her.  The older witch’s brows shot up in surprise, but she didn’t protest the idea right away.  “And… I need you to get Nick and Prudence to help”

At this point she was very confused.  Nick Scratch and Prudence Night were her friends from the Academy - well, Prudence was a bit of a loose canon when it came to friendship, but Nick was definitely one of her closest friends.

“Okay,” She gave Sabrina her compliance, without even hearing the whole story.  “I’ll help.  Give me fifteen minutes, and meet back here, okay?”

Sabrina nodded, and they hugged briefly, but tightly, before (y/n) mumbled a teleportation spell, and left the house.  Now Sabrina just had to explain everything to her Aunties and Ambrose before things got too out of hand.

Prudence was in the library, surprisingly away from her sisters, when (y/n) found her.  When she saw her appear in front of her, she smirked before going back to looking through shelves.

“You need my experienced help, I assume?” She spoke, and (y/n) willed herself not to roll her eyes in response.

“I do, Prudence, in fact, all of Greendale does,” (y/n) told her.  “I know we have our differences-”

“You helped your half witch of a cousin kill my sister,” Prudence replied with a bite in her voice, but instead of glaring at (y/n), her lips curved into a small but deviant smile.  “But... she was out of line.  So, what do you need?”

“Right now, to find Nick”

“At this time of day? Nicky’s probably in the courtyard looking for a lay,” Prudence said, walking alongside her to where she assumed the warlock would be.  “Oh don’t look so sour, (y/n)”

“What? I do not,” She argued back.  “And even if I did, it’s only because my family’s life is at stake.  Again” She was being defensive, and prudence knew it, but decided to let it go for now while they searched for Nicholas.

“There he is,” Prudence pointed him out in the yard.  He was sat on the steps on the other side of the yard, eating lunch while reading, and (y/n) felt relieved to find him so quickly.  “By himself, lucky you” She teased, and (y/n) glared at her before quickly making her way across the yard to where Nick was sitting.

“Nick!” She called, breaking into a light jog as she got closer, and the warlock looked up in happy surprise to see her there.  She was never at the Academy on weekends, instead opting to stay at her Aunties’ house for a few days.  But seeing her was the new highlight of his day.

“(y/n)” He smiled, closing his book as he stood up to greet her.  But before he could ask her what she was doing here on a Saturday evening, she began to ramble.

“My family needs your help, I-I need your help-”

“Woah woah woah, slow down,” He said, taking her arms as he stared at her in concern.  She realized she’d acted just as Sabrina had when she’d come barreling into her room earlier.  “What for? What happened?” He asked, even though he’d already decided that whatever it was, he was going to help her.

“We need to summon and burn the Greendale Thirteen”

Prudence, who was stood behind the witch, began to cackle, crossing her arms over her chest as she grinned wickedly at the two.

“Now there’s the hell raising opportunity of a lifetime,” She murmured mischievously.  “Why didn’t you say so to begin with?”

“The storm will only get worse,” Hilda explained to the group that had gathered to come up with a plan.  She handed her nieces and nephew some of their extra coats.  “Stay warm out there, the woods gets pretty chilly when you’re out there late at night, not to mention what the Thirteen will do to it, ghosts alter temperature you know-”

“Yes Hilda thank you for the textbook update,” Zelda responded before puffing on her cigarette.  “Hilda and I will be at the school, waiting for Sabrina and (y/n) while they summon the Thirteen”

“Nick, I need you to go to Harvey’s,” Sabrina asked, her voice pleading.  “I can’t have him getting hurt because of this, his father’s the first born and-”

“Consider it done” Nick agreed with the nod of his head, not missing the glance that (y/n) cast him.  If he wasn’t in the school when her aunts performed the spell to send a tornado through the town, he was at risk.  He gave her a small nod not to worry about it.

“The Red Angel of Death will be after all firstborns tonight, and everyone must be in the shelter at Baxter High.  Meaning, he will come to us.  When that happens, (y/n) and Sabrina, you must be at the school.  We’ll need all the blood in this family to ward everything off at once,” Zelda continued.  “Do you understand how important your presence is?”

“Yes, Aunt Zelda” (y/n) said, taking Sabrina’s hand and squeezing gently.

“We’ll go straight from the woods to the school”

“I need you both to act quickly, and safely,” Zelda said.  “It’s almost the witching hour.  You four go to the woods,”  Just as they were heading out, Zelda spoke again.  “Wait!”

Quickly, the woman made her way to her nieces, hugging them each longingly.

“Let Hell forbid either of you get hurt,” She murmured as she hugged (y/n) last.  “Stay safe.  Protect yourselves, whatever you must do”

“We will, Aunt Zelda” She replied quietly, her eyes sad as she said goodbye, and walked after the others to go to the woods.

They were stood around the tree, everyone almost spread out, except for Nick, who refused not to stand at (y/n’s) side.

“When we summon them, you have to act quickly,” He told her.  “They will refuse to go in peace, we’ll have to burn them”

“I understand” She replied, not realizing that he wasn’t telling her for her sake, he was telling her for his own.

Sabrina had already called upon the Thirteen, and out of thing air, there they appeared.

“We felt the wrath of Greendale once, child,” Dorothea called.  “Who are you, to order us? We won’t be hung again!”

(y/n) and Nick looked at each other, before silently taking hands and holding on tightly.

“No, not hung! Burned” Sabrina threatened.

“Burn us, half witch?” She replied disbelievingly.  “We are not of this earth.  No earthly fire can burn us”

(y/n) didn’t hear what Sabrina said next, fa to focused on grounding herself, of repeating the incantation memorized in her mind, the one that would bring forth hellfire, from the Pit.  And just in time, it was now that they needed to burn the Thirteen.

“Ater ignus, fusce fume. Te evoco ut potentiam tuam monstres. Cupidibus flammis hic veni. Caelo sub isto, harc arborem consumo. Lucem tenebras que tuas monstra. Impetuum tuum evoco ad devorandum. Hanc arborem ac omnes hospitas devora.”

One by one, each witch caught fire in an eruption of blue flames, even their hanging tree began to ignite.

Sabrina looked proudly at her witch and warlock friends, and (y/n) gasped in relief as they disappeared.  She turned to Nick as Sabrina came over so they could teleport to the school.

“I have to go,” She said quickly, sounding out of breath.  Her hands were grasping onto his upper arms, a fear in her that there was the possibility of never seeing him again.  “Just- be safe” She said.  He took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes deeply.

“And you,” He murmured, and leaned forward so his lips barely brushed her forehead, beginning to mumble a protection spell  “Qui affecto protego, mixt isque iubas serpentinus et posteris meis stir piqui” He said it a few times over, until (y/n) took his wrists and pulled away from his hold.  She turned to Sabrina, and took her hand.

“See you soon” She said, before reciting the teleportation spell, taking her and Sabrina to Baxter High.

There were tears in her eyes as they wandered in, and Sabrina couldn’t ignore the way her cousin tried not to sniffle too loudly.

“He’s going to be fine,” Sabrina told her comfortingly as they quickly walked to the main corridor.  “Nick is a very powerful warlock, if anyone can ward off the Red Angel of Death, it’s him” She assured.

“You’re right,” (y/n) said, taking in a deep breath and composing herself, ready to join her family, and likely use the last of the energy she had.  “You’re right” She repeated, much more seriously.

When Harvey answered his door, he didn’t expect to see a random boy dressed in all black.  And he especially didn’t expect him to just waltz right into his house.

“Uh, who are y-”

“Hey, Harvey right?”

“I’m Nicholas Scratch.  The Spellman’s sent me.  I’m a friend of Sabrina and (y/n’s), and I’m your backup for the night,” Nick explained bluntly.  “So I’ll need you to show me every window and door in this house so I can bind and seal them”

He already began to wander about the room, muttering incantations left and right to secure every possible entry that the Red Angel of Death could use to attack.

Harvey followed uselessly behind, the only thing he could think to say was, “What kind of friend?”

Nicholas rolled his eyes, making his way to the next window.  This guy was going to annoy him, he could already tell.  But he wasn’t about to back out of his promise to Sabrina to keep him safe.  Even if all he could think about was the fact that he was stuck here, while (y/n) was at the school in far more danger.

“It doesn’t matter, farmboy,” He muttered.  “Do you have anything to protect yourself?”

Harvey thought for a moment, before taking off to his father’s garage.

“Finally,” Nick mumbled to himself, glad to have a moment’s peace without Harvey bugging him.  This was going to be the longest night of his life, not even considering the massive storm and the demon trying to kill them.

(y/n) joined hands with her family, convening all of the power she could find within herself to help them.  She could feel herself growing weaker by the second, but refused to give up, to give in to the weakness.

“Stay strong, girls!” Zelda called over the sound of the tornado growing closer to the school.  “Just a little longer!”

“Da fortitudinem satanas” (y/n) muttered, hoping the Dark Lord would hear and give her the strength that she needed to complete this storm.

Just as she starting to put herself together, and focus all she could into saving her family, and herself, she could feel herself being summoned.

“Oh no, oh no no no, not now, no no-”

Suddenly her surroundings had changed, and she was standing in Harvey Kinkle’s living room, arms still outstretched in front of her, and she tripped trying to regain her footing.

“-oh shit” She cursed as she looked up to see Nick, of course, and Harvey just behind him with a hunting rifle in his hand.  Recognizing the symbol carved on to it, a familiar one that represented a league of witch hunters, she assumed the worst, already waving her hand in front of him, “Rigescunt indutae!” She charmed him instantly, making him freeze where he stood.

“Woah! Hey!” Nick called out, quickly reversing the spell.  “He’s not a hunter”

(y/n) looked between the two boys, bewildered as to why she was here right now, when she should be giving up her strength and powers to save her family.

“Sorry Harv” She muttered, and he just stared at her awkwardly, too disoriented to try to figure out any of what’s going on.  “Nicholas, why am I in Harvey’s living room?” She demanded, voice threatening, and stared at him impatiently for her answer.

“You- I- needed you here” The warlock stammered, and (y/n) crossed her arms.

“What for? In case you didn’t realize, I was in the middle of a family issue, you don’t mess with my family, I needed to help keep them safe and now I’m-”

“Well I needed to keep you safe!” Nick cut you off in alarm.  “I… I needed you here, so I knew you were safe” He exhaled, not having meant to lash out on her.

“H-hi (y/n)” Harvey stammered, finally finding his voice.  The witch looked at him over Nick’s shoulder, giving him a bored look and a wave with attitude.

“Harvey,” She replied, and looked right back to Nick.  “Are you fucked in the head?” She was almost yelling at him, but only because she was worried her family would be upset that she had just suddenly disappeared.  “You don’t get to just summon me whenever you want-!”

Nick cut her off, taking her by the waist and pulling her in to kiss her, effectively shutting her up as her hands cupped around his jaw to keep him close.  The kiss was intense, and long overdue.  It was years in the making and it was earth shattering.

The loud commotion outside ceased, causing them to break apart, and look at one another hopefully before all three raced to the door, opening it to see that the storm had ceased, meaning the Spellmans had been successful.

“It’s over?” Harvey asked, and (y/n) turned excitedly to Nick, most of her anger forgotten.

“They did it,” She breathed out, throwing her arms around him as he hugged her tight, spinning her around in the air.  “They did it! We won!” She squealed happily as he set her back down, and she hugged Harvey too, much more briefly, as she was pulled back by Nick before the mortal could really hug her back.

“Maybe give us some privacy and go put that gun away,” Nick suggested.  Harvey would’ve retaliated and stayed put, had (y/n) not given him a look that asked him much more politely to go.  So he left.  Nick turned back to (y/n), taking her in his arms and smirking a bit.  “So where were we?”

“Hmm… I believe somewhere between you getting chewed out and-” She was cut off by a quick peck on the lips, which brought a smile to her face.  “-there” She finished, and he chuckled quietly.

“I’m sorry I summoned you when your family needed you,” He apologized, a hand brushing against her cheek as he stared at her profoundly.  “I had it in my head that I needed you more than they did, I wasn’t thinking of where you needed to be”

She smiled gently at him, pressing her cheek further into his palm.

“It’s alright, Nick, I forgive you,” She murmured, before leaning up and pressing her lips against his, relishing in how soft his lips felt against hers, and how they fit together so perfectly, she had to assume she was always meant to be kissing him.  When they parted, her eyes stared into his with nothing but adoration.  “Besides, it’s not me you have to worry about”

“It isn’t?” He questioned, and she shook her head, a playful smile on her lips.

“Good luck explaining it to my Aunties,” She said teasingly, and his admiring expression faltered slightly.  “And you’ll probably have to explain yourself to Ambrose and Sabrina as well” He nodded, pursing his lips as he was already thinking through what he’d have to say.

“And if they don’t kill me…”

“Then you can take me on a date, anywhere you’d like” She finished his thought before he could even ask, and he laughed at how she knew him better than anyone else.

“It’s a deal, Spellman” He grinned, and she brought his lips to hers in one more kiss.

Harvey walked back into the room, making a disgusted sound aloud as he saw (y/n) and Nick kissing in his doorway.  They’d both heard him, but didn’t care enough to break apart just yet.

“Could you guys at least shut the door? You’re letting all the cold air in”

“Don’t be so jealous, farmboy,” Nick declared before shutting the door, locking himself and (y/n) outside on Harvey’s porch.  “That guy is the biggest drag I’ve ever met” He said, making her giggle as she wrapped her arms behind his neck, having to stand on her tiptoes to reach him for a kiss.

“He’s just upset that him and Sabrina are in a thing,” She said in between another kiss.  “They’ll get over it soon enough”

“Yeah, I don’t care about a cliche mortal love story right now” Nick said, making her laugh again before he held her tighter to lift her up a bit, just enough so her toes were off the ground and she was at his height.

A cliche love story was much better when it was with a witch and warlock.

taglist: @reblogserpent @strawberryfields-forever

[cuthian]

Dancing in the Rain Chapter One

Welcome to the piece you've all been waiting for so very patiently!

This piece /can/ be read as a standalone piece, but should you have any questions if you do, be sure to ask in the comments, I'll reply as soon as I can :)

This entire work has been written and edited already, and will be updated on Mondays :D

As always, much thanks to Juulna for putting up with me!

Lots of love, Annaelle

Dancing in the Rain

Life is not about how you survive the storm It is about how you dance in the rain —Unknown author

Chapter One

REBECCA BARNES RESIGNS AS EARTH’S AMBASSADOR TO ASGARD AFTER PREGNANCY LEAK

Move comes only days after The New York Times published an article ‘outing’ Rebecca Barnes’ pregnancy, based on the say-so of Barnes’ former obstetrician, who says she was fired after Barnes filed a baseless complaint about the care she provided.

In a move that was predicted by several political experts following the tell-all article, Rebecca Barnes confirmed today that she would be resigning from her post as Earth’s Ambassador to Asgard—less than a year after her initial appointment. […]Ambassador Rebecca Barnes’ decision today came after several politicians from across the globe expressed their concern about Barnes’ ability to remain impartial and to represent Earth.

Barnes released a pre-recorded statement, in which she confirms that she is, indeed, pregnant, and that she will be stepping down from her post as ambassador. […]also distances herself from the statements made by her former obstetrician, confirming she chose to switch to a different doctor due to irreconcilable differences in opinion.

“I have always taken [her duties as ambassador] very seriously,” Barnes said in her statement, “and it is with a heavy heart but a clear conscience that I now resign from those duties. My relationship with the Aesir now runs far deeper and more intimately than anyone thought it would, and as such, there would always be a fear that my opinions and actions would be biased. This can be a very good thing, but it’s also only right that we do the correct thing and have an Earth-focused ambassador. Someone focused on the big picture instead of… well, instead of the small, the personal.”

[…]mixed response to Barnes’ announcement and resignation. Various media outlets have latched onto the story and have begun spinning various iterations of the same question: now that Barnes is—most likely—expecting long-term boyfriend and Prince of Asgard’s first child, will the couple finally be tying the knot? And, if so, does that make Barnes the first human princess of Asgard? Will their child(ren) be recognized as an heir to the Asgardian throne?

“[…]must be something in the water over at the Avengers Tower,” talk show host Jay Leno also joked during his latest broadcast. “First Potts, now Barnes—what’s next, Captain America going for his daily Central Park run with a stroller?”

Leno’s remarks were likely partially inspired by recent pictures of Captain America reading “What to Expect when You’re Expecting” and other varied baby books in several coffee shops and parks across Manhattan and Brooklyn, and tweets by Pepper Potts detailing the Captain’s dedication to helping her out however he can, more so than even her own partners.

[…]not clear when a replacement ambassador will be elected. There is much discussion amongst the various governments of the world about which government, if any single one, should be allowed to elect one of their own, or if the many governments of the world should form a council of representatives not unlike the European Union or the United Nations solely dedicated to communications and relations with extra-terrestrial nations.

—Max Colchester and Jason Douglas, The New York Times, “Rebecca Barnes Resigns as Ambassador”, January 2016

——————

Chicago, Illinois, United States of America April 12

th

, 2016 Steve

“Captain America!”

“Captain America, a statement, please?”

“Captain America, anything to say to reports that the Avengers orchestrated this attack to be able to save the day again, to get good press going for them?”

“Captain, any word on why Thor hasn’t joined the fight today?”

“Captain, captain, is it true Thor has threatened to cut ties with Earth if Rebecca Barnes’ child really is yours instead of his?”

There were a passel of shouting reporters standing by the barricades, barely held back by several police officers in—somehow—pristine blue uniforms, cameras flashing and microphones held out as far as they were able to reach.

Steve heaved a sigh, unclipping his helmet and running a hand through his dirty, sweat-soaked hair before he chanced a look at himself. He was covered from head to toe in fine dust and dirt, splashes of blood streaking across his thighs and chest—that seemed about right.

The giant insects that some wannabe supervillain had set loose on an unsuspecting Chicago had been hardy and mean, and it had taken him and the other Avengers—minus Becca, who’d been benched as soon as they all learned she was pregnant and was now holed up in the Tower with Pepper, shouting at them over the comms, and Thor, who had been called back to Asgard—well over seven hours of constant fighting to exterminate them all, even after Natasha had gotten her hands on said wannabe supervillain.

He was tired, he was sweaty and covered in dirt and blood, and all he wanted was to go home to the Tower and take a hot shower and then sleep for twelve hours—but someone had to talk to the media, and it looked like it was going to be him.

He sighed again and trudged towards the reporters, mentally trying to brace himself for the vastly inane questions he’d be getting about his supposed love affair with Becca that had now culminated in her pregnancy and his passionate tryst with Pepper, that had somehow also resulted in pregnancy.

Because apparently, in the twenty-first century, it seemed entirely implausible to the reporters that people actually remained faithful to their partners, rather than sleep around with the first reasonably attractive person in the near vicinity.

It was ridiculous.

Pepper had told him to ignore the rumours, that they’d go away as soon as the next big news broke, but it bothered him nonetheless. He didn’t like that people thought he was the kind of person that was okay with cheating on his friends, didn’t like that people thought him capable of something like that—and he hated most of all that the media still insisted on pairing him only with women.

It wasn’t like he was being subtle, or that his bisexuality was a secret.

He went to Pride parades dressed in a Captain Bi-merica suit every year, volunteered at several LGBT+ shelters and donated almost half of his Avengers income to various charities dedicated to at-risk LGBT youth. Everyone in his life knew that he and Bucky had been together, and everyone in the war had known too—even Peggy had known.

It’d been the worst kept secret in the U.S. Army—Captain America and Bucky Barnes were queer for each other, and entirely unapologetic about it too.

He wasn’t sure how that tidbit of knowledge had gotten lost over time when they remembered the fucking song.

The shouting got more frantic the closer he got, and he narrowly resisted the urge to turn on his heel and run the other way as fast as his serum-enhanced legs could carry him.

“Everybody,” he said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the din. “I don’t have much time before I’m needed back, but I can tell you that we have successfully contained the threat and have taken the culprit into custody. We are currently coordinating relief efforts for affected families with local authorities. We expect displaced families to be able to return to their homes sometime tomorrow.”

“Captain,” one of the bottle-blonde women with far too much make-up caked on her cheeks demanded, “Is it true this attack was orchestrated by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers to round up more sympathetic press in the wake of your scandalous affair and love child with Rebecca Barnes and Pepper Potts?”

Steve blinked at her.

“Tell me you're shitting me,” he deadpanned, barely even registering the way all of the reporters gasped. “Fifteen people lost their lives today,” he continued, maintaining direct eye contact with the woman who’d asked this fucking stupid question. “Fifteen people. Do you even know their names? I do. And I’m going to remember them for the rest of my life, because we didn’t get here fast enough—and not because of some imaginary sex scandal that exists absolutely nowhere but in your imagination, but because we’re only human too. We’re not here for better press, we’re here to make sure that those fifteen people are avenged. We’re here to make sure that no one else falls victim to one person’s greed, one person’s anger. Not because you’ve somehow got it in your head that I’ve been sleeping with the girl that may as well have been my own niece, if Bucky hadn’t died and if I hadn’t gone in the ice, and if I’d been allowed to keep the love of my life.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in, even for him, and though he wanted to groan and curse himself for losing his temper, he stood by his words.

He'd pretended to be their perfect little soldier—a dancing monkey—long enough.

He was fucking done.

He shot the wide-eyed, stunned woman an icy glare and said, “No further comment,” before he turned on his heel and walked away the way he’d come.

——————————

Cuthian:

Uuuhhhmmm… So tell me someone else saw this interview with Cap today?!?! @juuls, @betheflame ARE YOU SEEING THIS?

           juuls:

YES @cuthian, I’m definitely seeing this. HOLY CRAP. We called it—we SO called it.  

           betheflame:

           I SAID he’d slip it in during an interview! I WIN THE BET!

                       KlaudiaForPresident:

I’m so glad that we have someone as good and morally strong as Steve Rogers to represent us finally, but can we please talk about the way he was basically bullied into coming out of the closet?

There’s no way he felt comfortable sharing something so personal like this—just look at his face at 4:33, he said it in the heat of the moment, not because he was planning to tell us; and why would he?

It’s not like the media has been kind to him about his personal relationships since he’s been in the future. He’s been linked to nearly everyone he’s ever had a conversation with, and we need to acknowledge that that’s not cool.

Imagine how UNCOMFORTABLE it must be for him to constantly have to defend that he’s not sleeping with a girl he sees as a little sister, or a cousin—family.

Let’s just let him have his privacy, okay?

Even if we’re all ecstatic that he’s admitted his—potential—bisexuality, let’s not forget that he still lost the person he saw as the love of his life. He’s probably still grieving.

Let’s allow him to grieve and not push.  

#Captainbimerica #stucky #totallycalledit #birepresentation #thisismycaptain #captainamerica #psa #leavethepoormanalone #mediasucks

——————

Lagos, NigeriaApril 15

th

, 2016 Steve

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he told Becca after he’d switched his comm to their private channel, watching as Wanda, Nat, and Pietro moved into position on the small square between the Center of Infectious Diseases and the local police station. “Feels too easy.”

Becca hummed in agreement, and Steve didn’t need to see her to know she was sitting cross-legged on one of the extra-wide, extra-comfortable desk chairs Tony had designed especially for Pepper and Becca, frowning at her screen, keeping an eye on the security footage the same as him. She’d been on desk duty since she’d hit twelve weeks in the pregnancy, when the small but unmistakable baby bump became visible to everyone.

Thor had—understandably—been entirely unable to focus on the battles they fought while Becca was still in the field with them, and after he’d taken a harpoon to the arm because he’d been too busy covering Becca to cover his own ass, the rest of the team had voted unanimously to have Becca on desk duty for the rest of her pregnancy.

Becca, while grumpy, had not put up much of a fight about it.

“I’ve ran all the background checks imaginable on our informant though,” she replied calmly. “Nat and I went over all of the intel with a fine-tooth comb. It’s legit, Steve, you know that.”

Steve harrumphed grumpily and crossed his arms over his chest. “That doesn’t mean it’s not a trap,” he retorted, watching as Wanda ordered a cup of tea, keeping her—by now recognisable—face covered with the clever sweep of her hair and the slightly dramatic make-up she and Natasha had spent almost an hour applying. Pietro was hovering just out of sight in the alleyway, nearly vibrating out of his skin, as he always did when he had to stand still for longer than a few minutes.

“Oh, it’s definitely a trap,” Becca said in his ear cheerfully. “But that just means we’re making them nervous—means we’re closer than we thought we were.”

Steve sighed.

She was right, of course. The intel had come rather unexpectedly—while they’d been able to clear Sharon of the murder she’d been accused of, it’d been more by chance than by design of any kind. They’d stumbled across footage of Sharon at a gas station nearly forty miles away at the time of the murder, and through the footage several witnesses who swore she’d been there.

The matter had been dropped relatively quickly after that.

Still, whoever was running this show was good—good enough that Tony’s various algorithms and even J.A.R.V.I.S. hadn’t been able to pick up on much more than the vague pattern that Natasha had initially noticed. There were more cases like Sharon’s, and though the investigation against her had been dropped, and she had clearly had a lot of fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and all of the Avengers in her corner, there were a lot of rumors still flying around about Sharon’s supposed involvement with her informant’s untimely and rather gruesome death.

Steve still wasn’t sure how it’d benefit a shadowy terrorist organisation to discredit one agent—no matter how good Sharon was—but he assumed there was a reason.

There were at least half a dozen other cases that J.A.R.V.I.S. and Nat had flagged as suspicious that hit mysterious dead ends: one former A.I.M. scientist turned S.H.I.E.L.D. informant who’d been on the verge of revealing something big vanishing off the face of the Earth; a STRIKE team getting massacred after being given faulty information on an infiltration mission that should’ve been easy; and a U.S. senator who’d been known for her progressive style changing her tune entirely seemingly overnight…

Even the sudden suicide of a popular, if somewhat reclusive, wealthy murder mystery writer had pinged on their radars—the man had been researching the inner workings of police stations and its politics, and had, one week prior to his apparent suicide, rewritten his will to leave his entire family out of it, donating his entire estate, worth an estimated 60 million dollars, at least, to assorted police stations in his home state, and several police officers specifically.

Something was going on, on a large and likely unprecedented scale, and Steve wasn’t sure they were ready to figure out just how big this thing was.

They even had a mole in S.H.I.E.L.D.

One relatively high up the chain of command too, if the sort of information they had access to was any indication—Sharon’s real identity had been classified to hell and back for years. Her deep-cover missions were more intense than Natasha’s half the time, and she hadn’t gone by her own name for longer than a few weeks since she’d joined S.H.I.E.LD.

“All set,” Becca said quietly, breaking him from his musings, drawing his attention back to the security footage, showing Natasha having moved into position too.

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Here we go.”

He switched back to their shared comms channel and watched as Wanda added a sugar packet to her teacup with calculated, graceful movements, stirring the spoon in the hot liquid before she sipped, taking the time to glance around the square surreptitiously as she did.

He barely suppressed a proud smile as she clocked several hidden gunmen—two of which he hadn’t noticed himself—and whispered their location to her brother, who moved to get them out of the way before anyone could so much as blink.

“Alright,” he said into the comms as soon as Pietro had taken the men out of commission. “Good job, guys. Wanda, keep going; what do you see?”

“Standard beat cops,” Wanda said slowly, talking into her cup so no one would see her lips move. “Small station, quiet street. Pretty good target, I can see why they picked it.”

Steve nodded. “There’s an ATM in the south corner, which means…”

“Cameras,” Wanda finished, glancing briefly towards the aforementioned corner before she returned her attention to the building in front of her. The info they’d gotten pointed to either the little police station or the Center for Infectious Diseases being hit by the as-of-yet nameless terrorist group they’d been chasing for the past six or so months.

Steve personally thought it’d be the CfID, not the little police station, but since the intel hadn’t been clear on it, they couldn’t risk losing their only chance to get their hands on whoever was planning this.

Especially considering they couldn’t find anything more concrete than a vague suspicion that things weren’t adding up. They—Pepper—had negotiated their presence there with the Nigerian government, keeping their interference on the absolute downlow.

Not even S.H.I.E.L.D. had been told.

“Both cross streets are one way,” Becca added over the comms, and Steve watched as Wanda and Pietro, once again hidden in the shadows, checked the street reflexively.

“Compromised escape route,” Pietro muttered, accent thicker still than his sister’s.

Steve nodded along. “Yep. Means our guy doesn’t care about being seen—not afraid to make a mess on the way out. A big departure from their usual M.O.”

It was true—these guys seemed to operate entirely from the shadows in every other way, and Steve wasn’t sure what it meant for them if they decided they were ready to step out of said shadows.

“It’s suspicious,” Becca insisted. “See that Range Rover halfway up the block, Wanda?”

“Yeah, the red one?” Wanda sipped her tea again. “It’s cute.”

Nat chuckled across the comms and said, “It’s also bulletproof. Probably private security, which means more guns, which means more headaches for someone—probably us.”

“Plates aren’t registered,” Becca piped in. “J.A.R.V.I.S. is hacking into a few more databases to see if he can find that make and model listed anywhere, but it’s slow-going.” She huffed in annoyance. “There’s way too many red Range Rovers in Nigeria, what the hell.”

“Eyes on the target,” Steve reminded them sternly. “This is the best lead we’ve had in months. I don’t want to lose it.”

“Aye aye cap’n,” Natasha quipped semi-seriously, and Steve laughed along with the others despite himself.

“Tony’s almost there, in case you guys need him,” Becca reminded them, “and he’s being whiny about not being on the same comms channel, so if I let him in, will you play nice?”

Steve gasped playfully. “Why, Becca, I’m offended by the implication. I always play nice.”

“You’re a little shit, Rogers,” Becca told him, before something clicked and Tony’s voice became audible. “—and I mean, I can totally dig the seriousness of this mission, I’m cool, I’m just saying a little AC/DC never hurt anyone.”

“A little AC/DC would definitely hurt now,” Steve replied, eyeing the street before him again.

“Capsicle!” Tony exclaimed. “Congrats on the coming out! Papers are all over it. The U.S. is losing its shit. I applaud you, my good man. I’ll order you a cake when we get home. Bi-pride colors and everything. We can invite Aunt Peg and Aunt Becky. Also, I think FOX News is having a meltdown. Or going on lockdown. Not sure which would be more entertaining, honestly,” he hummed happily.

Steve stopped short. “What?”

“What?” Natasha and Wanda and Pietro echoed.

“Right,” Becca said slowly. “You left right after Chicago.”

Steve’s stomach sank. “Oh, fuck,” he said empathically.

Tony gasped theatrically. “Captain, language.”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve bit out, before sighing and rubbing a hand over his forehead. “How much of a headache is this gonna be? It just kinda slipped out.”

“Eh,” Tony said, surprisingly gentle. “I’ve caused bigger headaches. I think the conservative, racist part of the country is having a meltdown, because they can’t use you as a poster-boy for their ass backwards shit anymore, but most people are cool with it. Applauding you for being brave enough to come out for who you and Barnes were—and talking shit about the reporter that bullied you into making that grandiose speech in the first place.”

Steve groaned.

“Steve,” Becca said quietly. “You’re fine. No one is going to judge you, and people that do are really not worth your time or your consideration.”

“Uh,” Tony said. “While I totally agree, and hate to break up the moment… There’s a large group of people moving in the CfID—like abnormally. I can only see heat signatures, but I’m willing to bet these guys are armed. I’m thinking our terrorists might already be here.”

“Becca,” Steve barked, moving out the door and down the stairs of their look-out apartment before Tony had even stopped talking.

“Hacking into security cams now,” Becca replied immediately.

“Pietro, get Natasha and Wanda inside,” Steve ordered. “Then come back for me. Don’t be seen.”

“Yep,” Pietro said shortly, and Steve heard the slight rush of fast-moving air as the boy started moving.

By the time Steve’d reached street level, the other three were gone, and he barely had time to blink before Pietro blurred back into sight before him, grinning wildly. “Ready, Captain?” he asked, before putting his hands on Steve’s shoulders and moving.

The world blurred and moved, and his head spun wildly before Pietro came to a stop, hidden behind a large pillar, only a few feet from where Nat and Wanda stood, readying themselves for a fight.

Nat’s Widow’s Bites were sparking, and Wanda’s hands were already encased with that tell-tale ominous red energy. Steve checked that the straps of his shield were tight enough on his arm, and then nodded at the two women. “Definitely body armor. Possibly AR-15s—likely hand guns and knives too. I make seven hostiles,” he whispered, glancing towards the men dressed in black tac gear.

Natasha huffed and moved forwards, launching herself into the air by a graceful jump off a chair—she landed on two of the men, taking them down in a tangle of limbs and electric current, their choked off screams echoing eerily in the building.

Steve moved before the other men had had the chance to react to Nat’s sudden attack, lobbing the shield towards two of the other men, who had raised their guns to Nat immediately, knocking both of them clean off their feet. The man that stood next to them shouted in alarm, but before he could do so much as raise his gun, he was tackled to the ground by a blur of movement, and then fastened in place by an eerie red glow that spread, quickly, to encompass all other men, freezing their limbs in place.

“Good job,” Steve told Wanda when she appeared from behind the relative safety of the pillar, eyes glowing as red as the mist encompassing her hands.

“I can’t hold them long,” she told him calmly. “Natasha, you should cuff them so I can let go.”

Natasha was already moving, pulling handcuffs from wherever she managed to stash them in her skin tight outfit, when someone let out a strangled, “Stop!”

Steve spun around, finding one of the men had managed to move enough to pull his helmet off, revealing—

“Brock?” Steve said incredulously.

“What?” Becca demanded in his ear, as Natasha stepped up beside him, eyeing Brock Rumlow, who was held immobile by Wanda’s red magic in what looked like a very uncomfortable position, with a considering expression.

“What the fuck?” the other man demanded when Wanda released him after Steve nodded at her, collapsing on his knees before he managed to steady himself. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Natasha countered. “No one is supposed to be here.”

“We got a tip,” Rumlow spat. “Jesus, Romanoff, we’re meant to catch some terrorist group that the higher ups are really interested in. You better fucking hope you didn’t scare them away! Now fucking let my STRIKE guys loose.” He glared at Wanda, who bit her lip and looked at Steve first, waiting for his approval before she did as Rumlow said and released the other men.

A chorus of groans and muffled curses followed their release, and a small part of Steve felt a little smug that Wanda had been able to keep at least ten guys—a full fucking STRIKE team—down without visibly breaking a sweat.

Take that, every asshole who ever dared imply she didn’t deserve her spot on the team.

“He’s telling the truth,” Becca said hesitantly. “I’ve got the paperwork here. J.A.R.V.I.S. just hacked into the S.H.I.E.L.D. servers. Orders came straight from Maria—probably from Fury or Pierce before it came to her. It looks legit, Steve. They got the same tip we did.”

Steve exchanged a glance with Natasha, who had her arms crossed over her chest, staring down each of Rumlow’s STRIKE guys with a blank expression that he knew was tailor-made to scare the shit out of even the bravest of men. Judging by their expressions, Rumlow’s guys may not be the bravest of men.

She just lifted one eyebrow at him, and Becca suggested, “Maybe tell him some of the truth?”

Steve exhaled slowly.

“We also got a tip,” he told Rumlow. “Couple of hours ago. It came directly to us, seemed urgent. We contacted the Nigerian government directly and flew in. We didn’t want to risk losing these guys.”

Rumlow scoffed. “So urgent you couldn’t notify S.H.I.E.L.D. at all?”

“Tell him we told Fury,” Tony butted in. “Becca, J.A.R.V.I.S. will make it happen.”

Steve didn’t question their decision to fudge the truth. They’d established Avengers Black Op on this entire mission for a reason, and much as Steve enjoyed beating the man up during his mandatory hand-to-hand combat sessions, Brock did not make the cut for trusted individuals.

Not even Sharon had made the cut.

“We notified Fury,” he said, shrugging. “Didn’t hear back from him, and the Nigerian government had already given us permission to be here, so…”

“Damn it. They should’ve run it through us, man,” Brock grumbled. “Could’ve saved us this whole thing.” He glanced toward the two men Steve had knocked to the ground and the man Nat had tased with her Widow’s bites, and groaned. “Paperwork’s going to be a bitch.”

Steve hung his head.

He hated to say it, but Brock was right, damn it.

“Get them out,” Rumlow told Rollins, who Steve had worked with on occasion, and a fresh-faced kid who was likely a new recruit, gesturing to the three men that were still on the floor. “Make sure they get medical attention and that you’re not seen.” He glanced towards Steve and the others and heaved a sigh, “tell Hill we got back up from the Avengers.”

“Actually,” Becca drawled, “Hill just sent me an Avengers Assemble alert. Looks like there’s… something going on a couple of miles from where you guys are. Some guy called…” she hesitated and then snorted, “Killmonger? I dunno, he’s American special ops, but he called in for help not even a minute ago, something about a crazy man with voodoo powers taking out his whole team. We’re the closest back-up he’s got.”

Steve groaned. “Alright. Tony, fly ahead, scope out the situation, see what’s what. Pietro—”

“Aye aye, Cap,” the young man quipped, before pressing a lightning quick kiss to his sister’s cheek and blurring out of sight.

“We got an Assemble alert,” he told Rumlow reluctantly. “Becca’s informed S.H.I.E.L.D. you need more back-up, but if anything goes sideways, hail us, yeah? Pietro or Stark can be here before you can even blink if you need them.”

Rumlow nodded. “Yeah. Let’s hope we haven’t managed to chase away our mark.”

“Let’s hope not,” Steve agreed, before turning to Nat and Wanda, nodding his head towards the exit.

He wasn’t sure how they’d managed to get their wires crossed so intensely, because he could’ve sworn J.A.R.V.I.S. had checked S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database for similar tips beforehand, but there wasn’t anything for it now. There was possibly something more going on, someone playing them all, pulling on their strings like they were nothing but puppets, but he didn’t have time to figure it out now.

Someone needed their help.

Rumlow, S.H.I.E.L.D., and everything else could wait.

———————

Fox News (@FoxNews) 36 min.

BREAKING: Captain America comes out of the closet? Has this national hero been lying to the country, or did he simply misspeak? Surely @captainRogers will clarify this misunderstanding soon.

Steve Rogers — Captain America (@CaptainRogers) 2 min.

@FoxNews Did I fucking stutter?

———————

Brooklyn V.A. Medical center, Brooklyn, New York, United States of America

April 20

th

, 2016Steve

Steve just barely managed to squeeze himself into the tiny little bathroom stall of the V.A. center with Becca, gamely holding his breath as well as Becca’s hair as she retched into the toilet after an unfortunate incident involving the snack table for the meeting and a stray sandwich with blue cheese.

“Ugh,” Becca groaned miserably, leaning back and wiping her mouth on a wad of toilet paper before dropping it in the toilet and flushing it. “I thought this part was supposed to be over.”

Steve smiled lightly and tugged her close so her head could rest back against his shoulder.

“From what I remember,” Steve said slowly, keeping his voice level and calm to help Becca calm down—because he remembered how much throwing up triggered Becca sometimes, and he knew how difficult the first few weeks of the pregnancy had been for her, how relieved she’d been when the morning sickness had finally abated—rubbing his hand over the swell of her stomach softly. “It can come up any time. My mom used to say it was because your senses are heightened, primed to notice anything that could be a danger to the baby.”

“That’s a nice thought, actually,” Becca nodded. “I don’t think I mind being sick if it keeps the baby safe.”

Steve smiled and leaned his cheek against Becca’s temple. “Well, I hope for your sake that you don’t have to be sick anymore.”

“Me too,” Becca hummed.

They sat quietly for a few more minutes before Becca gasped, suddenly, looking down at her belly with wide eyes. “Look,” she told him urgently, tugging on his arm urgently until he moved, and they were sitting opposite one another with their backs against the walls of the stall, Becca’s legs curled underneath her and Steve’s awkwardly stretched out.

Becca pulled up her shirt a little, revealing the pale expanse of her stomach, littered with little silvery stretch marks and a few dark, puckered marks that she tended to hide otherwise. Today, though, the marks seemed the last thing on Becca’s mind, because she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach again, just next to her belly button. “Look,” she insisted.

Steve dropped his eyes to her stomach as well, and he couldn’t really stop the gasp that fell from his lips when, suddenly, the outline of what was clearly a tiny foot pressed out into Becca’s skin just above his fingertips, remaining there for a few seconds before it disappeared again. “Shit,” he laughed, looking up at his friend with a grin, “that’s so weird. And cool.” He looked down again, but the little foot did not make another appearance. “You’re actually growing a person in there,” he added breathlessly.

Becca snorted and shoved at him. “What, did you think I stuffed a watermelon under my shirt before now? You’ve felt them kick before.” She elbowed him in the side and chuckled, “You’ve read more of the parenting books than any of us have.”

“Well,” Steve spluttered, a little embarrassed, “yeah. But this is different.”

Becca laughed again, but it wasn’t mean or mocking, and Steve grinned too, despite himself.

“Steven? Rebecca?”

Thor’s voice was loud enough to drift through the walls even when he was clearly trying to be quiet, and Steve grinned at Becca when she perked up immediately.

“In here,” Steve said, raising his voice just a little—Thor’s hearing was just as good, if not better than Steve’s—as he moved to help Becca back to her feet.

Thor pushed open the door to the bathroom and leaned on the doorjamb, smiling at them lightly, although his forehead was creased into a slightly concerned frown. “Everyone alright?” he asked casually, reaching out to Becca as soon as she was within reach.

Becca grimaced but nodded, leaning into Thor’s touch gratefully. “Blue cheese,” she said, nose wrinkling in disgust, and Thor made a small sound of comprehension, needing no further explanation after the last time Becca had encountered blue cheese in the common room of the Tower, and instead rubbing his hand over her back in a soothing gesture.

“You ready, Steve?” Becca asked, turning back to him with a grin.

“Born ready,” he said confidently.

——————

Steve was absolutely not ready.

He fidgeted, his hands trembling just shy of imperceptibly when he took the microphone from Sam. The room was about as filled as it usually was for the Thursday V.A. meeting, but the thought of ‘sharing’ still reminded him of the feeling he’d had when Senator Brandt had first thrust him into the spotlight on a stage somewhere in Philadelphia, when he’d wanted nothing more than to run away, to hide so no one could see him ever again.

He’d been wishing to be seen for most of his life at that point, had wished that people would see and notice him, but it’d been nothing like he’d thought it would be.

He’d made a promise to Sam though, and he wasn’t going to back out.

Becca and Thor were tucked into a corner of the room, Thor’s hands absently rubbing across Becca’s belly while Becca smiled encouragingly. She’d shared with the group the previous week, and it’d broken Steve up to hear, first-hand, the things people had done to her—before, during and after her capture—but she hadn’t been the only one.

There’d been a young man, too young to have the same kind of shadows lingering behind his eyes that they all seemed to, who came up to her afterwards, who thanked her for sharing, and for reminding them that… that it was possible to build a life afterwards.

That it was possible to learn how to live and be happy again.

Steve had diligently pretended Becca wasn’t crying when they walked home, but he’d held her hand and hugged her close when she’d asked him to anyway.

He’d told himself that sharing what had happened to him might help someone else. He’d told Sam the same, and Sam had held him to it, inviting him up to speak after everyone who’d volunteered had had their chance to speak, because “No one wants to follow your act, Rogers.”

Steve swallowed thickly and glanced at the expectant, curious faces of their group. “Hi,” he finally said, voice cracking with nerves. “I’m sure all of you know who I am.” He grinned lightly and added, “I usually lurk in the back with my friend, eating all of the donuts, like the creepers we actually are.”

That got a couple of scattered laughs, and Becca shot him a thumbs up from her corner.

Steve exhaled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the lectern that stood at the front of the room. “I’m Steve,” he began. “I’m thirty-two, and I went to war when I was twenty-four, and sometimes it feels like I’ve never left it behind. Sometimes it feels like I never will.” There were a few understanding murmurs, and something loosened slightly in his chest.

He could do this.

“I went to war because I had to,” he continued, chewing on his lower lip. “Because there were good, healthy people dying on the front lines every day, fighting to defend us, our families, and I was dying anyway, so what right did I have to do any less than them?” He swallowed thickly. “I was dying anyway, and I wanted my death to have more meaning than my life had.”

The room had gone utterly silent, and Steve didn’t dare look up, for fear he’d lose his nerve.

“It’s a funny thing,” he continued, “to be so aware of your own mortality. I wasn’t even very angry about the unfairness of it anymore. Buck—my—the love of my life,” he admitted, still a little shy to be so public about something so private, “he was angry. He was the sweetest guy you’d ever meet, charming and handsome and kind, but he was so fucking angry at God and the universe and whatever else there was, because I was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do about it… and then they called him to war too.”

Steve blinked back a tear, a little startled by how emotional he felt, by how hard recalling the memories was. “And he went,” he said. “He went, and what else could I do than everything I could to either follow him, or to die trying?” He looked up, briefly catching Becca’s shiny eyes before his gaze fell to Sam. Sam, who’d supported him, who hadn’t let their rough start at a friendship get in the way—who understood in a way even Becca never had.

“The machine they used to give me all of this—” He gestured vaguely at his body. “It looked like a coffin.”

There were a few gasps from the group, but no one interrupted when he continued, “And I thought it would be mine. There had been seventeen test subjects before me.” He looked down. “I was the only one to ever survive, but I didn’t know that when I went in. I thought I was going to be number eighteen, the one they could hopefully learn from, so they could help people.”

“Obviously,” he said with a weak smile, “it worked. And I went, and I fought, tooth and nail, for the life I’d been real eager to leave behind, for Bucky and his sisters, for his family—my family. I fought for everyone that couldn’t, for everyone we’d already lost, and for once, I felt like a hero.” He stopped and looked down, noting that his hands were shaking so bad he could barely hold the microphone without hitting himself in the face.

“When Bucky—the mission we were on—” He shook his head and lowered the microphone, breathing in deeply to regain some measure of composure. Because, while no one here would judge him, he wouldn’t be able to finish if he let himself cry now. “He saved my life, like he always did, like he’d been doing since we were both four feet tall and getting into fights with people twice our size. I got knocked down and he picked up my shield, and—” Steve choked lightly, tears running down his cheeks despite his best efforts to hold them at bay. “We were both nearly blown off the side of the train,” he said hoarsely. “I thought—God, for a second, I thought I had him. He managed to hang on by a railing, and I was so close. His—his fingers brushed past mine when it broke off and he fell.”

The room was deathly silent, and when he looked up, he saw that several other people were nodding, crying, knowing. “I almost fell,” Steve admitted. “I almost fell too. Sometimes I wish I had.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before he whispered, “Grief… Grief is a funny thing. Grief shatters something inside of you that you didn’t know could shatter, and it seeps into the cracks, like water that slowly freezes, slowly expands into ice until it’s all you can feel—until you can’t even remember what it felt like to live without the cracks, without the grief filling up that space. I didn’t… after Bucky fell, I lost my mind a little. I froze… long before I put the Valkyrie in the ice. I fought, and I killed, and I didn’t care that I was doing it, because every single Hydra soldier was one that was responsible for the love of my life dying alone at the bottom of a ravine. The Valkyrie…” He shook his head and sighed. “Putting down the Valkyrie was a relief, because at least it meant that whatever was going to happen, Bucky would be waiting for me on the other side.”

He swallowed. “And then I woke up here. And whatever soul, whatever heart I had left, it shattered further; the grief, the ice spread further, because everyone was gone. Everyone I’d ever known, everyone I’d ever loved—even the country I’d died for. Everything.”

He exhaled shakily and looked up, meeting Becca’s teary gaze, and managing a weak smile.

“I made it through. I made it through because I still had family that needed me, that missed me, that knew me, and that refused to give up on me even when I had.” He deliberately looked at every member of their group. “Including the Valkyrie, I tried to take my own life six times. I tried to leave, tried to give up what Bucky had died to give me—and I still think about it sometimes. I’m not always okay. I sit out missions that I know will trigger me, I have three different therapists, and I have an unrelenting support network. I’m lucky—so many of us don’t have all of that. But I want you, at least, to know that you do as well. I’m just one man, even with my name and reputation, and there’s only so much I can do—but when any of us, any of you need support, even if it’s just a shoulder to cry on…”

He shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “They’re a lot bigger and stronger than they used to be. I promise there’s room to help you shoulder your burden. I want you to know that you have that support. I thought I had no one for the longest time, even surrounded by friends and family, and I don’t wish that feeling on anyone.”

He looked down again and sighed. “The ice… the grief doesn’t go away,” he admitted. “Not really. But you learn. You learn to breathe with it, rather than against it, you learn how to cope, even when you can’t understand, and that’s all anyone can ask of you. Even on days when it feels like you’ll never leave the war behind, even when things are at its bleakest, there’s going to be better days. There’s always people that’ll care, that’ll miss you, that’ll need you.”

He squared his jaw and promised, “And when you have no one, I’ll be your someone. We will be your people. We’ll miss you. We’ll need you, and we’ll drag you through hell, to show you how good life is on the other side. You’re never alone.”

——————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Starting Over:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

[littlejeanniebean]

Mrs. Drew | Part 2

A/N: Angst but she’s driven so she’ll be alright. ~800 words. Read on Wattpad!

You know when you’re in a really niche fandom, but you love it to death so you just... make your own content? Even just for yourself? Because you’re a narcissist and love reading your own works?

- J, a professional fangirl. xx.

"Since that night it's like I can sense everything and recollect every bit of it. I recognize the gait of almost everyone in town and can hear them coming a meter away on a busy street. And I know I'm not a savant because I don't have any other symptoms. I read all about it when Dad took a case involving a savant named Erving Slater. He's serving time now for corporate espionage…"

Eloise listened intently to her vibrant niece. Where her brother had retreated into a solemn - still warm, but not yet whole - state of existence, Nancy had thrown herself back into life with defiance, if not true wellness. 

"I spoke to the psychologist at school and he didn't believe me at first. So I told him what the girls gossiping outside his door were saying and he went out to ask them if I was right. He told me that I may have a form of PTSD."

"Did these girls happen to be Bess and George?"

"Yes, but I know I'm telling the truth. I couldn't risk being wrong. I needed answers."

"So you scheduled some sessions?"

"Of course not! That would only worry Dad and Hannah. And isn't it a fun party trick to know what song the jukebox will play next by the sound of the mechanism clicking into place?"

"I suppose so."

"Say," Nancy shot up from her seat on the porch, "Evening paper's coming."

Sure enough, a ten-year-old boy with dirty blond hair rounded the corner on his bicycle, throwing papers onto people's doorsteps with conscientious aim, never missing once.

"Catch Nancy!" he threw her bundle, "Evening, Ms. Drew!"

"Thanks, Ned!" she'd caught it neatly and had begun pouring over the headlining story. 

Eloise waved at the boy distractedly. She knew better than to question her niece's fixation on the story, but her deepening frown was concerning.

"He never asked to see anyone else's safe," Nancy sipped her hot milk quietly, "He'd eat his fill, take their silverware and any other valuables he could readily see out in the open and carry in a garbage bag."

Eloise scanned the paper, "These other cases… a father, a husband, a big brother was always home. Perhaps he saw an opportunity when it was just you and your mom."

"A gun would make a convincing deterrent to anyone regardless of gender... Dad keeps his files in the safe and he was on a case in New York. Usually he can tell us the gist of it without breaching confidentiality. That time? Nothing. And his trip was very short notice too. Did he say anything to you while he was there? Go anywhere besides the courthouse?"

"I… I don't know, Nancy…"

"Just try to think. Please?"

"... He'd... leave early and come back to the apartment late. He visited records I believe, but that's as standard as going to court. Of course, he could have gone anywhere for lunch and dinner and I wouldn't know it. Perhaps we could ask him -"

"No! No, this is… this is all speculation. The very idea that Mom… that she might still be with us if not for someone connected to a case of his… I don't know how he'd take it."

"Yes. And it's not even very likely, is it? The man was homeless, for landsakes. What interest could he possibly have in Carson's work?"

"He's homeless… Auntie, you're brilliant!"

"Why, thank you, but pray tell me how."

"It's not foolproof, but it's a start. I'll go to Walsh Street first thing!"

"What about school?"

"The shelters and missions all open at six. I'll have three whole hours. If I go with Bess and George we'll have covered the whole street by then."

"Nancy, Walsh isn't the best of places for a -"

"Please. Don't say 'child'. I stopped being a child when I stopped having a mother."

The girl looked eighteen instead of eight. Perhaps she'd just grown so much since Eloise last saw her. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't say such things. She's with me. Always. I'll always have her," Nancy gave her aunt a small smile and kissed her cheek, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Eloise watched her step inside the old brick house where it had all happened. She'd come to convince Carson to move to New York with his daughter and leave behind all the bad memories. He'd told her they'd also be leaving behind all the good ones.

"She's got her mother's spunk and her father's will, Ms. Drew," Hannah Gruen came out with a cup of tea like she could read her mind, "And I look after her like one of my own young'uns, so don't you worry none. 'Course we love having you here with us, so stay as long as you want."

"Thank you, Hannah. But I've left my post for long enough as it is. My students must be raining hell on my poor substitute by now. Call me if you or either of them need anything."

"Yes, ma'am," said the capable housekeeper.

[dancinginthecenteroftheworld]

Nov 5: Cats (Jaime/Brienne pre-relationship)

Jaime checks the address of the animal shelter three times when he pulls up. It looks like an abandoned warehouse on the outside, the kind of place he expects to find someone making illicit drug deals in the back corner, nothing at all like the cheerful images of animals finding forever homes posted on the website.

The inside, at least, is more promising. The walls are painted bright colors (he recognizes one from the photos) even if he's hit with the smell of cat litter and wet dog as soon as he opens the door. There's a chorus of barking echoing from behind one of the sets of doors and the counter is empty. Jaime rings the bell and overs awkwardly in front of it, not entirely trusting the dingy, threadbare chairs.

A slight redhead comes out, barely older than his niece, and greets him with a smile.

"I'm looking for a cat," Jaime says. "It's a Christmas gift for my nephew and –"

"BRIE," the redhead hollers, her pleasant smile dropping from her face. "We have another one."

Another one of what, Jaime isn't sure, but he's distracted from wondering about it when the absolute tallest, blondest woman he's ever seen emerges and joins the redhead at the desk.

She's even taller than Jaime is, and he isn't exactly short. The woman also has the most stunning blue eyes and more freckles than Jaime thinks should be possible. Ugly, is his first thought, followed immediately by fascination at the way she strides to the counter and squares her shoulders like she's ready to fight.

"Animals aren't gifts," the woman says shortly, scowling at him. "We're here to find homes for these animals, not send them off to be abandoned again by someone they loved."

"It will have a home," Jaime starts, but she cuts him off again.

"For how long? Until your nephew stops taking care of it? And then his parents get annoyed and then what?"

Jaime opens his mouth, but the woman just keeps going.

"They don't want to take care of it, they don't want pets or they'd have already adopted a cat, and you just shove one at them. Then they're right back here, dumping the cats on us again, taking up cages and reducing the number of animals we can save. And on top of that, the cats have gotten attached, so now they don't understand where the human they've come to love is and why they aren't good enough anymore."

The woman is shouting but her eyes are glistening in a way that suggests she's about to cry. Jaime thinks she's taking it all too personally, but he also doesn't think arguing will help his case.

"It will have a home," he says again, and barrels on when the woman opens her mouth. He can play that game, too. "With me. I'm Tommen's legal guardian, so I'll be the one taking care of the cat."

The redhead breaks into a smile again at those words, though the tall blonde keeps glaring at him. 

"Cats are a lot of work," she says. "Have you ever even owned a pet?"

"No," Jaime says. "But I don't mind a bit of work."

"Brie," the redhead says softly, looking between them.

Brie snorts.

"They'll claw your sofa," she warns. "And throw up on your fancy rugs and shed all over your expensive clothes."

Jaime isn't even wearing expensive clothes, not really, just jeans and a cashmere sweater, this is just getting ridiculous.

"I'm sorry, do you not want to find these cats a home?" he snaps. "Or are you just sad nobody wants to take you back to their house?"

Brie takes a deep breath and looks like she's about to say something, but the redhead sets a hand on her arm, and the taller woman deflates.

"You'll need to sign," she says, from between gritted teeth. "Saying you'll bring them back to us if you don't want them, not just dump them on the street, and if you return them you won't be allowed to adopt again."

"Fine," Jaime says. He expects her to go back to whatever she was doing before, but she stomps out from behind the counter and leads him through a set of doors.

There are, frankly, a lot more cats than Jaime expected. Racks of metal cages line the walls, three in a column, with at least one cat in each. Some of them have more than one, and the scent of litter is even stronger here. The cage floors are covered in newspaper, though some also have blankets.

Some of the cats are loud, meowing frantically as soon as the door opens, and others cower in the corner of their cages. One particularly energetic animal is climbing the wire door of his, flipping around, and coming back down again, wailing dramatically all the while. Another hisses as they walk by.

It's frankly overwhelming. 

Brie leans against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at him. 

Jaime strolls along the line of cages, watching as cats run and hide or stretch paws out to bat at him as he passes.

"Look, Brie," he says, after his third or fourth circuit. 

"Brienne," she interrupts.

"Brienne," he emphasizes, rolling his eyes. "A little help would be nice."

"It's going to be your cat."

"Seriously, why do you even work here if you don't want to adopt these animals?"

"I want to adopt them. Just not to you."

"You don't even know me!" Jaime is almost shouting now. He runs his hands through his hair.

"I know enough," Brienne says mulishly. She jabs her finger at one of the cages. "This cat? Sweet, loving, and she's been brought back here twice. First was because her owner's daughter stopped cleaning the litterbox and that was the punishment. Second time, the owner redecorated and the fur didn't match and was easier to see on the new sofa, so back she comes. Just because money buys you whatever you like doesn't mean you get to treat living creatures like that."

"I'm not planning to!"

"Yeah, but have you thought this through? You clearly don't know anything about cats."

"Well, we can't all live in our apartments with seven of them and become spinsters," Jaime says, and is pleased when Brienne flushes a deeper shade of red. She barrels on anyway.

"What are you going to do when it gets sick? Or claws your favorite shirt? Let me guess – you don't know. You just thought about how cute it will be to see your nephew's face on Christmas morning, and everything else will sort itself out."

"What I thought," Jaime says, stalking closer. He can't loom over Brienne, not when she's taller than he is, but his anger is still a powerful force. "Is that my nephew is dealing with the death of his father, his mother being thrown into a mental institution and he's lonely and the only things he's spoken to since I took custody are stray cats on the street."

Brienne has the grace to look embarrassed, but she doesn't back down from where she's toe to toe with him. 

"What I thought," Jaime continues. "Is that he loves cats more than pretty much anything, and the only time he had one, it disappeared and I'm pretty sure his brother was responsible. But since that brother is now in jail, maybe Tommen can finally get something he wants, for once in his goddamn life."

When Brienne finally speaks again, her voice is more subdued.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she says. It sounds stiff, but sincere, and Jaime inclines his head in acknowledgement. "I just want you to understand how much goes into owning a pet."

"Well, as you pointed out, I'm rich. If the cat claws my shirt or my sofa or whatever, I'll buy a new one. If I get tired of cleaning the litter box, I'll hire a maid. I'm not going to bring the cat back. I could never do something like that to Tommen, after everything he's been through."

That seems to do convince Brienne, at least enough for her to ask some questions about Tommen and what he likes. Then she shows him a number of cats and kittens, insisting on bringing them out of their cages for Jaime to hold, although he really can't tell much difference between them other than furry or more furry, squirmy or less squirmy.  

In the end, he settles on two kittens, because Brienne is of the opinion that an older cat with an established personality would be better, but Jaime has thought about Tommen's face on Christmas morning and he loves kittens so much that Jaime will take the risk, because apparently kittens are better behaved in pairs. 

They're almost to the door when Jaime's attention is caught by a yellow card on the front of one cage, the number 2 scrawled on it in sharpie. 

"Is that how long she's been here? Two days?" he asks.

"No," Brienne sighs heavily. "She's been here over a year. That's how long she has left until we have to put her to sleep."

Jaime peers into the cage. All he can really see is a pile of black fluff in one corner – he almost misses it at first. 

"Is she sick?"

Brienne stares at him like he's being exceptionally dumb.

"No, but we can't keep animals here forever." She makes a clicking noise, and the cat's head perks up, amber eyes flicking over them both. "She's a sweet girl, but she's lazy and she's already 9 years old. She could have plenty of years left – my oldest cat is 17 and going strong – but most people are more excited about kittens."

Jaime feels guilty, suddenly, about the two playful kittens he's picked out. Tommen will love them, of course, probably more than a lazy cat, but he didn't know they killed animals if they weren't adopted.

"I'll take her too," he says impulsively.

Brienne gapes at him.

Jaime grins.

It looks like he's going to have three cats.

[amuelle]

About my sister...

I hadn’t known not having her around and the idea of it was shattering. I could feel it in the depths of my soul. The comfortable place in my heart she used to occupy was slowly getting emptied out.  She had always stayed there, ALWAYS been there, so why was she leaving? She was taking her things one by one and for all my screaming and crying she couldn’t hear me because my sorrow took my voice. She just kept packing. At this point in our lives we were meant to be apart but separation should never be taken lightly or underestimated…..it hurts, its soul crushing.

We are six years apart my sister and I. We only have a few good traits in common but for the rest of it we are night and day. She takes nothing personally and I take everything personally. Her ability to communicate her feelings is incredible while I’d rather suffer in silence till the words find me and I’m ready to hear what others have to say about my feelings. She is a first born, a trail blazer and I am the sheltered lamb that was guided not to make my own mistakes. She was packing and getting ready to start a new life without me. I could not fathom HOW????

Why was she leaving me!???? Where was she going where she would be without me and why was she was she so excited? I have always been the sentimental sibling. Emotions have always led me and I’ve always wanted to be the one to hold us together. The three of us, my brother included have always had a rhythm. She was disturbing the rhythm and she wasn’t bothered. WHY WASN'T SHE BOTHERED?? She was leaving everything she knew for the great unknown. We had moved around most of our lives. The Lithebes of Moshoeshoe 2 became the Lithebes of Brookside Drive. After that the Lithebes of Asian Games then Lower Thetsane and Hillsview after that. Ultimately we settled as the Lithebes of Ngoana oa Lla. We had always moved as a family. Not this time.

Reflecting on this as a woman in my 30s I realise she always had to leave, destiny was calling. But for her leaving for Durban she wouldn’t have become a health care professional living out her purpose to help others. I wouldn’t have my nieces and I would have never had anyone to encourage me to pursue a career in construction. She had to leave to be the incredible person who would later effect so many incredible changes in my life and the lives of others. 15 year old me couldn’t have known that. All she knew was that the person who understood her best was leaving. The day of her departure grew closer and my voice got stuck in my throat more and more. I knew I needed her. I knew I needed to tell her that but I couldn’t. My mother loved me but didn’t understand me. My father was my father and he did all he could as a man more concerned with raising a lioness. They did their best. I still needed her the most. She was my sister. The benchmark for all my successful female relationships. I needed her!

I knew she would leave but I never expected to come home from school and find every trace of her GONE. I remember the terrible feeling of sleeping in our room alone for the first time in my life. It felt empty, her big oxygen sucking personality was gone. I was devastated and had no one to tell because her leaving was a good thing. It felt like I wasn’t allowed to feel sad about it. She had to go to varsity. There were adventures for her to have, people to meet and most importantly her life to start living. I missed her deeply. As everything at 15 this was new for me. It felt like no one could understand. How could they? I couldn’t explain that this person I was incredibly aloof to, understood me better than I understood myself. In our silence laid a deep understanding that could never be shaken. The bond between sisters is incredible and forged over lifetimes of loving each other without knowing.

Retrospectively, I should have spoken to my mother about it. My mother is the last of 7 and has 5 sisters. Her sisters left her, they got married, went to school, they all left home to start their own lives. She could have comforted me. At that time it felt as if no one could have comforted me.

My sister knew everything about me and I knew everything about her. I saw her at 13 fall in love with hip hop and basketball. I had seen her leave a whole life full of friends and start again every time we moved. I had seen her personality form. I saw her grow into this person I had never had to be without, who was now leaving me.

Sometimes in families we don’t talk about things and we fucking should! The reason I am so transparent with my nieces is because I know that terrible feeling of being left by one of the people you love the most. Even if they don’t want to leave, when they leave it feels like they want to. She had to carve her place in the world and in doing so she became more phenomenal than she already was. She would become the woman to support my dreams and nurse my broken heart. Helped me remember that I’m allowed to make mistake and that risks should be taken. If becoming a woman was like getting a degree on my degree certificate under my name it would read “with a special contribution from Matlaleng Lithebe”. I had to let her go so she could be who she was always meant to be however, it still HURT and she still left.

The first night she came home from Durban she smelt like sun, sea salt and she was glowing like a girl in her early 20s who had just found her purpose should. She had to do to so much work just be in a position to leave me and she was reaping the rewards. Family members wanted to marry her off while others had lost faith in her but she knew what she wanted and made sure they knew it too! She boldly went forward on faith and gut feel and it worked out.

My cousin and I picked her up from the bus station. We were never huggers until that day. That day we hugged. I could feel the frown forming on my forehead but I was still acting tough and it was too late to turn back. I wanted to cry but I had to pretend I was ok. I wasn’t. Her coming back to me meant more than she will probably ever understand. She has never been as sensitive as I am but that didn’t matter, I was vulnerable and she gave me the space to be. She was back. She was here for ME and I would appreciated every single moment of it.

That night when we got home she didn’t unpack, she put on her new pajamas and got into bed. We turned off the light and we talked about everything under the sun till 2 in the morning and it was a school night. I was waking up at 6 to go to school but the excitement of her presence would have never let me sleep. The all night conversations became a constant. Even when she moved to Joburg for her first job. Whenever we are at home or every time we sleep in the same room we stay up and talk like we haven’t spoken in years. We talk almost every day. She knows everything about me and I’m still learning things about her. Having an older sister is one of my blessings and I don’t take her for granted anymore.

Healthy female relationships are IMPORTANT! I know I’m blessed in a unique way to have the sister I have but it wasn’t always easy. All relationships need to be nurtured because like flowers they take time to bloom. Take care of your sisters, even if they aren’t blood. The women in your life who love you with specific intention add value. They want you to be the most phenomenal you that you can be. That shit is IMPORTANT! Its mother’s day on Sunday. My mother and father gave me my sister, they can’t begin to imagine how much I value her.

To my phenomenal sister, who is my whole hand of safety (hand of safety post still coming) and everything I could ever need in a human being, thank you for being you. Just as you are, you have changed the world with the quality of human being you are. I love you buddy!

Bisou…bisou

[smallblanketfort]

reasons not to

i asked followers and friends to tell me why they’re alive. why they stayed. this is what happened.

the world is beautiful, like, breathtakingly, stunningly, dashingly, spectacularly, exasperatingly beautiful. every wall dirty with paint and ornate with mud and graffiti, all the moldy trees and infuriating insects, all the contorted perfect faces around the world, the decaying and the rising, whatever dichotomy that comes to life and anything that grows according to the plan is beautiful. and it breaks my heart that i will never see all the beauty in the world, but at least i gotta try.

I’m staying alive because I am not ready to be forgotten. This universe has existed for 14 billion years and will continue to exist for at least 14 billion more. In this grand scale, I get an average of 70 years, if I’m lucky. I will not be forgotten. I will do everything it takes to make a difference, to create, to grow and to cherish. I will not be forgotten.

tbh, the main reason i keep myself clean and alive is that i know my family wouldn't be able to take it if i didn't. everyone in my family either has psychological issues or strong tendencies to develop them, and the reason we all keep going, i believe, is because we know we have to be there for each other, otherwise everyone will fall. and i know it's kinda sad and maybe a little unhealthy sometimes but it's how we've worked for the longest time, and hey, we're still here, right?

I’ve stayed alive for my gay ambitions. I wanna kiss a girl! While sober! I’ve had 2 kisses while drunk but I don’t remember one and it sucks. I wanna be confident enough to kiss a girl without anything helping. Also one of those girls was straight and kissing me for attention from her gross boyfriend, I’d like to avoid that situation again lol. But yeah, gayness. Fuckin wild my dude. Gotta shoot my shot and get some lip-lock ya feel?

i reached out for help a while ago to a teacher and if it weren’t for him i might not have made it. he’s said so many things and tells me that i matter, i’m worth it, i deserve to be happy, and he wished he had a daughter like me. it makes me cry knowing that he puts effort into making sure i’m okay, and that’s what keeps me going. i want to make sure his efforts don’t go to waste.

I'm still alive for going out with friends on nights like this. Hearing the birds wake up. Seeing neon lights and stars. That even when I feel so lonely, so alone, I can at least see my friends have fun and lose myself in the music.

I want to be clean because then at least i know i can do it. I've only stayed clean for a few months and then relapsed. If i can make it to a year, then at least i know i can do another and then another and then another and maybe even not deal with it at all anymore. I just want to beat this for good.

my mom’s battled depression her whole life, and last fall i broke down sobbing and started telling her about how mine had been festering in secret for so long. and she started telling me about all the pain she never thought would bridge the mother-daughter divide and how she wanted to breathe in the shadows like smoke to keep them from burning my skin. sometimes at night we crawl into each others beds and carry the weight together when our arms have started giving out. i stay alive for her.

The thing that kept me here most was knowing that my life is not really my own. No one is purely self- contained. To end my own life would be to alter dozens. So, to counter my own feeling of worthlessness, I invested my time in things that I knew had a net positive impact on the world. The more objectively positive meaning that I gave to my life made it harder to argue that I should kill myself. What would my parents do? What would my also suicidal younger brother do? We're probably a package deal in this regard. Same with some students I lead a mental health group with. I had set an example to them, and I can't fail that hard without risking their well being.

Simply, my boyfriend. It started with him physically hiding anything I could use to hurt myself. Over time, with his support, I learned some self worth and improved so much. Now those things don't have to be hidden. Even now that he's gone for a year and a half and our contact is limited to a 20 minutes phone call a day and letters, I find I'm still stable enough to stay alive and clean. He taught me how to be safe even without him and that's worth everything.

I stuck around because for some reason, something was telling me to check things out until I'm 30. When I was a kid, I imagined myself getting older all the time. When I wanted to die, I couldn't see anything past the age I was in, 19. I was both so scared and so sad for my innocence, but apparently, it never left me. Because, even though I couldn't /see/ myself beyond 19, my body made me feel like I could. Did that make sense? I'm 24 now. So far I'm glad I stuck around.

Don't want to sound conceited, but there was a kid at church who just loved me. She was like my tail. Although, I think I learned from her more than she learned from me. We both spent the whole day in church because of various activities I was involved in and because her parents were in the choir for all the services. We were always together when there was nothing for me to do-- she talked a lot. I loved hearing what she had to say. That's why I didn't. I looked forward to her growth every week

I'm alive because of the Oscar's. A few years ago a theater was showing all the nominated movies, and my mom and I went to see Manchester by the Sea. It's a sad movie, about an accident that killed some kids, but it affected my mom a lot more than me. I remember walking back to the car and her talking about how she probably wouldn't be able to go on if one of her kids died. I still can't imagine a future, but so far I'm here and tthinking about that conversation in that parking structure.

i stayed alive because i couldn’t choose which sunrise would be my last.

My family, friends, and God keep me here. If it weren't for them, I might have committed suicide or at least harmed myself because I was so overwhelmed with the world and hated myself for how far I went into sin. I might be in prison because I was heading down a path that could have lead to illegal things. God has always pulled me back in and my family has always been there to talk to. A couple of friends have helped a lot too. I also hate inflicting pain on myself and others, so that has kept me here as well .I am still coming out of certain sins and I am still recovering, but I have hope now in Christ and hope for a better future. I still get overwhelmed and perplexed by this world, but I have support and I know that God is working in my life which will allow me to help others hopefully.

i’m alive because of the little things. seeing your plants flower, the dew in the morning, low hanging clouds in the mountains, the smell of warm dirt after it rains, the tingling feeling of your fingers warming up after going numb.

A fear of hurting my mum, sisters and best friend is the biggest factor in me staying. There have been so many times that I've thought - known - they'd be better off without me, but I know they won't see it like that, and will just be hurt. Personal vanity and the hope I can accomplish the projects I've dreamed of finishing also keeps me going.

On most days, staying clean is the hope that I can be used by the Lord in the lives of people who have been through the same thing—that one day I can look at someone and say, “I made it through… you can too.” On the nights I almost relapse, I think of the girls I’m discipling and the witness I have for Christ and wrestle with the effects of one hasty decision—and five years down the drain. The staying alive thing is a little more complicated sometimes. For the most part, it’s because I’ve personally seen the impact of suicide—both in my family and friendships. However, sometimes that’s not good enough. And, as pathetic as it seems, there are times when my cat is the only reason I’m still here. Phteven has super high anxiety, is afraid of most everyone (myself excluded), and is, generally, pretty high maintenance because of all his fears. No one in their right mind would take care of him if I were gone. So, on the darkest nights of my life, I’ve honestly stayed because I think my cat would end up at a shelter, and he would 100% have a heart attack because of the anxiety (which written out sounds really silly, but there ya go.) In general, however, it’s the knowledge of the impact it would have—regardless of how well I perceived to be loved or cared for.

For me the hope of tomorrow, there is always a new day. Ive always been an optimist and even in my darkest moments, hope keeps me grounded. Romans 8:18, Psalm 51:10 & Hebrews 6:19 have been verses that have helped me through to the point i have an anchor tattoo with Steadfast across it.

While some of these may sound dumb, they’ve kept me going all these years: all the books I’ll be able to read some day. all the movies/tv shows/music I’ll get to watch/listen to. All the laughs with my crazy friends. All the laughs with my crazy family. The possibility of road trips and vacations. The possibility of writing a book of my own. Falling in love. Being best friends with my sister. Loving my niece to pieces. Smelling the air after it’s just rained, and/or after the grass has been cut. Seeing the first snowfall every year. Seeing the corn and beans sprouting every spring. Sitting on a porch when I’m old. Having grandchildren to tell all your crazy stories to. And laughing. So much laughing. 😌

my reason to stay alive is my friends. they needed me to keep going, to keep pushing through every dark night. I know just how devastating it would be if one of my plans actually did work. since my dad passed away, every day was getting harder and harder to get through, until eventually i just didn't want to even live for the new morning. it's only been a few months now since the suicidal thoughts and the urge to self harm has left, but I think what got me through the worst of it was the unrelenting support of my friends. they were there for me through every breakdown, every panic attack and every dark thought. I genuinely don't think I'd be here today without their support- their kindness is what kept me going. I've worked hard for three years now on my mental health, I've been going to counselling and seeking support from other people. I've taken self care with open arms and its made such a difference. reaching out for help was so hard but it was so so worth it. I've reached my 18th birthday, a milestone I never thought i could ever achieve- yet here I am proving every horrible thought my brain spews up wrong. I'm so thankful I never gave up, because each day now - while sometimes still a struggle, shows me how the world has a little light bearing through even when things seem to be going shit. my lovely friends, my art and music is what wakes me up every morning and motivates me to sleep at night. life does get better.

In the past it was always my sister and brother. I always kept going and stayed here just so one day I could find them and we could be together. Be a family. I loved them since the moment I met them. Though my sister was only three and didn't speak English at the time only French. Of course I only knew English. My brother was to be born very soon. I was instantly in love. To know that I had them. They were my world. They held me together. Even though for the next 13 years we would not see each other for unfair reasons. Now 22 years later what keeps me here has changed only slightly. My sister and my father are what keep me here. For a very different reason now though. Four years ago my little brother, the one I was just speaking of, was murdered. Along with his girlfriend and her sister. I keep going because right now I can't let my dad suffer the loss of two children. I can't let the sweetest sister in the world lose two siblings. I can't let them down. I have to stay strong. I have to keep going. It's exhausting most days, and it gets harder as time goes on. So I fight back more to keep going because I love them and I know they love me.

I guess for me -- the reason I stayed is because I almost didn't stay, and it was the total grace of God that I'm here. At the time I thought I would have stayed for my family, or my friends, or my future -- but I totally could not see any of that other than the continuous hurt I thought I was inflicting on them. I had a really bad fall semester at my university that led me to eventually take a much needed and helpful medical leave my spring semester;; but the first time that I really almost did it I was breaking down on the top floor of a parking garage at my university, begging that God would actually see me and wanting prayer but not knowing where to go and not wanting to "burden" anyone I knew. As this was happening, this guy walks to the top of the garage and sees me - comes over to where I was sitting, asks if I'm okay and gives me a hug, and asks if he could pray for me (and my university is not even religious at *all*). He literally slept in a booth across from me and stayed with me all night as I finished my homework, and he walked with me to class the next day. In the midst of everything that I was a bit of hope. Towards the very end of the semester, I had seriously made the decision I was going to do it and went about with all what I thought were my parting arrangements -- the next morning when I was going to leave he sends me a text and shows up at my dorm, telling me he was praying for me and wanted to stay with me that day until I left to go back home to Pittsburgh where I'd be for my medical leave. Both of those times I actually didn't see a reason to stay -- but God did. And it took some time for that to really sink in... that God wants me to stay. That he wouldn't let me go. And that has been a massive reason why I stay now. In addition to that, through this healing season I have relearned the beauty of family and friendship, and how much love there actually is surrounding me -- and now, I look around and I appreciate it that much more because it was almsot never there. Knowing that God never gave up and there *actually was* soooooo much love and life on the other side of this that I was convinced I would never see gives me so much hope to keep holding on and to not listen to the lies that there is no good for me or my future. I don't want to live my life out of guilt or fear of what will happen to me or my friends/family after I'm gone -- but I guess that is a part of it, seeing many friends die from preventable causes and the damage it does puts things into perspective. But I'd say my main reason for staying is knowing that life really is worth it and precious when I can't see it, because I know what it's like to make it out the other side and understand how tightly God holds onto us when we don't want to even hold on anymore.

I stayed alive because I didn't know there was another option. I was young. I stayed alive because I didn't want my sister to have to live as someone with that kind of hole in her life. I stayed alive because there was always some upcoming performance and my company is too small for understudies or alternates. I stayed alive because there was always someone not quite as steady who relied on me to do so. Only now, finally, I can stay alive because I want to.

Reasons I stay alive: the love of the people close to me, and the knowledge that with age we get better. Anxieties lessen and dissipate, confidence grows, skills develop and things generally become clearer.

Ive been thinking about this post quite a lot, Haha. Mostly, it’s because I don’t want to give up. I want to prove to myself and my loved ones that I’m so much stronger than I think I am and I’d like to show the bullies of my past that I’m stronger than they think. Also, my family and friends and boyfriend keep me here. There’s so much see in the future, and I sometimes just... hold on to that. I lost touch with one of my best friends for years and I’m just too glad to have her back in my life since last year and I know (haha this sounds selfish I guess, but she told me haha) that she’s so glad about it as well. There’s so many things I want to achieve and things to see. I mean - about three weeks ago, said best friend and I met our childhood hero and I just kept thinking “man, I’m so glad I stayed”.

it’s on my blog too x and twitter

[gold3nberry]

The Pack Grows

I absolutely can! Thank you so much for this prompt, @izzyb900 .  It gave the opportunity to talk about Rutherford’s pups (more about them can be found here ). This was a lovely prompt and I hope you’ll like the one - shot.  Also, thank you for your patience you all who sent prompts. I’m slow, but I’ll answer them all, don’t worry!

Cullen Rutherford X Demetra Trevelyan Dorian X The Iron Bull (implied) Post Trespasser

“Demetra?” Demetra lifted her eyes from the incinerated roasted meat on the half - set table. “Sorry, I burnt the food,” she said automatically “but I sent the girls to have some dinner with Mia, so they’ll be fine.” Cullen frowned, putting down his sword against the wall and walking towards her “What’s going on, love? You’re pale.” She clenched her fist, biting her knuckles. Cullen tried hard not to show his concern, he truly tried, but seeing her unusual mood he couldn’t avoid worrying. “I saw Sinèad today,” she started after a handful of seconds long as a lifetime and more. Well, that didn’t make easier for him to relax. Sinèad was one of the oldest healers who worked in the Templars’ Shelter. A tall, too thin woman, with a bunch of unruly white braids, a sharp tongue and two black eyes that always saw more than others realized. Cullen knew very well that Demetra had loved her since the healer arrived in the South Reach, as soon as the voices about a Shelter was going to be built. She had knocked at their door, leading a group of younger mages and a couple of experienced healers, and told them she was going to help Cullen to run the clinic. “Your soldiers say you’re a great Commander,” she had huffed when Cullen tried to tell her that the project was still work in progress “but you’re not a healer, and Maker knows if you’ll need good ones. We have our tents and supplies. You make sure to give us a place where to work, and we’ll be ready when the Templars arrive,” she nodded. “Alright,” Cullen said staring at Demetra and telling himself he wasn’t panicking “you saw Sinèad. Are you… do you feel… what did she say?” “Oh, Cullen,” she murmured going close to him quickly “I’m not sick. Don’t… I’m sorry, dear, I’m doing this all wrong. I asked Sinéad to come here because I was feeling strange. Tired. Moody. She confirmed me… she told me I’m pregnant, Cullen.”

The first time she had given him a similar announcement, it was a bright springtime afternoon and they were working in the garden. He had hugged her, he had cried and thanked the Maker breathing his gratitude against her lips. The second time, she had told him she was pregnant during a winter night, while they were reading on the sofa, under the softest blanket they had. He had cried again and covered her face with kisses. The third time, she had made her announcement during the lunch, showing an old Cecilia’s romper and asking him if he knew where the others were since soon they would need them. Cullen didn’t spare his tears on that occasion either, asking repeatedly if she was sure to be pregnant. This time, Demetra was the one who was crying, but her face wasn’t shining with happiness. Cullen looked at her, swallowed once, and then opened his arms, quietly. He was dazed, to say the least, but he knew his wife needed him. “I forgot to take my potion just once,” she sobbed “but I didn’t expect… I mean I’m thirty - nine! And now I’m old, pregnant and scared as fuck!” she cried. Cullen cradled her in his arms “Hey, there, you’re not allowed to tell you’re old until you’ll be ninety years old.” She mumbled something and he chuckled softly “Speaking about old people, I thought you found my grey hair quite charming, however.” Demetra laughed weakly, sniffling “You have just one or two grey locks. I’d say you not to be dramatic if I wasn’t crying my eyes out.” She pressed her forehead hard against his shoulder “We both work, we have the Shelter to run, the horses to take care of, our daughters that need us, a dog that finds great chewing everything it finds out of place!” She looked up at him, her eyes swollen “Maker, I didn’t even put our girls in the first place of the list!” Cullen looked at her seriously “I’ll help you. I’ll arrange new shifts in the Shelter and we’ll hire another person for the stables. I’ll do whatever you’ll ask me to do, I promise. We’re in this together, if you agree.” She caressed his face “Do not mistake me. I want this baby. I’m just surprised. Confused.” “I know, love.” She played with the strings on his shirt “I had plans for us, but Maker showed me once more that plans change.” “Sometimes, they change for the better.” Demetra cringed “The way I reacted… I’m feeling like a monster.” “Now you’re being silly. You have the right to feel scared or even hesitant. Maker’s breath, I’m scared and I don’t have to go through a pregnancy!” He kissed her forehead and pushed back a lock of hair. There was a silver one shining there and she had a few little wrinkles at the corners of those azure eyes that never felt to charm him all over again every day. Cullen smiled. She was still gorgeous, still with him. He hoped the baby would have her eyes. And freckles. And her love for books and history. And everything that made their mother unique. She shifted in his arms “How are you feeling about another child?” Cullen’s smiled risked to split his face in two “I couldn’t be happier.” “Good,” she nodded. Her smile was a bit stronger when he kissed her. 

“Another Rutherford cub? Well, I suppose I don’t have to ask you two how you spend your spare time.” Demetra tsked, blushing and avoiding to look at the shining crystal in the middle of the table “You’re insufferable, Dorian, truly.” Cullen rolled his eyes hearing Dorian’s words, but he grinned and asked the mage to tell about the baby to the rest of their former companions. “You’re faster than a crow and it shouldn’t be a hard task for you," the former Commander remarked, “In the old days you were even better than Leliana’s scouts for spreading news.” A thunderous laughter made the crystal’s light expand and tremble “He’s right, kadan, don’t pout!” Demetra smiled at it “Bull, it’s good to hear you,” she spoke over Dorian’s protest that he wasn’t pouting at all “It has been a while since your last visit here. How are you and the guys doing?” “We’re older, fatter, busier, and grumpier than ever, boss. We couldn’t be better! Congratulations, anyway. How are you feeling?” Cullen looked at her from where he was sitting. She finished to dry a soon and then said “I’m a bit scared I’m too old for this.” “Older often means wiser,” Bull replied gently. Demetra thanked him “I hope you’re right. Anyway, I’m… happy, yes. Fuzzy - headed, but happy.” “That’s good! I’ll drink something special in your baby’s honor.” Cullen’s chuckled mirrored Demetra’s. They were chatting about Bull’s bet that this time they were going to have a boy while Dorian insisted than another girl would be lovely when a head full of red curls peeked inside the room “Mum, dad, are you talking with Uncle Dorian?” “Lella,” Demetra admonished her “it’s late and children need to rest. To bed, now.” Lella looked at her father, her brown eyes enormous and begging, but Cullen shook his head “You heard your mum, pup.” “I told you it wasn’t a good idea,” a voice whispered in the dark hall behind her. “Grace,” Cullen called with a sigh. A pair of golden eyes, so similar to his, smiled tentatively from above her sister’s head “Sorry mum, sorry dad. We wanted to say hello to Uncle Dorian and Uncle Bull and tell them that we’re going to have a new sister!” “Or a brother,” a quiet voice corrected her. Cecilia walked slowly near her sisters “I’m sorry mummy, I wanted to say hello as well,” she murmured blushing and shifting on her bare feet. “Oh, stop being a killjoy and let my lovely nieces greet me, Demetra!” Dorian’s voice echoed in the room.  “And me!” Bull remarked. It was easy picturing them both smiling, thousands of miles away from the South Reach. The little girls’ excited voices filled the distance as they talked about the baby who was in mummy’s belly, their words a mix of excitement and innocent curiosity.  Demetra walked close to Cullen, leaning against him. He sneaked his arm around her full waist, stroking her belly gently. After three pregnancies, she hadn’t lost a single pound and new stretch marks ran on her skin, but she couldn't care less. As Cullen loved to repeat kissing them during their lovemaking, every sign was a mark of well-lived life together. She covered his hand with her survived one. It seemed the adventures never ended for Inquisitor Trevelyan and her Commander. As she lowered her head to kiss her husband, Demetra still was a bit anxious and a bit scared. Nevertheless, she wouldn’t have her life in any other way. They would go through this together, as always.

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

Multiverse is a Curse Word (10)

AHHH! Why can’t I just estimate a flipping ending accurately? I’ve split the ending into two more chapters YET AGAIN.

Addi is @hntrgurl13‘s OC, and the Dimension Jumper and Drifting Dimensions AUs belong to her as well.

The Addiford ship, which I am shamelessly obsessed with, belongs to @scipunk63.

The Adrift AU belongs to @the-subpar-ghost.

@deadpool-demon-diva and @thejesterlyfictionista, thanks for sticking with me.

AO3  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11

Chapter 10: Robot In-Laws Are the Coolest In-Laws

I wish we didn’t have to do this, Addi thought.

Wikert Expansion Enterprises was apparently so influential in their dimension of origin that they could shut down the interdimensional customs terminal with a single transmission. So they had. Next thing Addi knew, they were being escorted to a private section of the building and a swirling blue portal was waiting for them.

“Assuming the coordinates you gave us are right, this should take you straight to RC736’s base of operations. Use this-” Lic thrust a transmitter into Addi’s hand – “to let us know the number of hostiles, and the kind of weapons technology we should expect, and we’ll arrive within twenty minutes, give or take,”

“Give or take what, exactly?” said Ford. Lic just grinned, like Ford had made a joke. Addi didn’t think that was a good sign.

The very reluctant scouting trio stepped through, and found themselves back in the dimension with permanently black sky, and furthermore, back inside RC736’s base of operations. The hangar, to be exact.

“Shhhhhoot,” hissed Addi, once again refraining from swearing in front of Mabel. They darted to the shelter of a nearby shuttle.

“Wow, they weren’t messing around when they said they’d get us to the base, were they?” said Mabel.

“I suppose not.” answered Ford, checking all around them for resisters. Fortunately, the hangar was deserted. “All the shuttles are here, so we shouldn’t have to expect any surprise arrivals.”

“I think we should split up.” said Addi suddenly. The others looked at her in alarm. “This place is huge,” she explained, “and the longer we take, the more likely it is that Lic is going to assume we’ve been captured.”

Ford had started nodding in agreement halfway through. “In that case, you take the residential quarter and the medical wing, and Mabel and I will handle the rest,”

Addi raised her eyebrows at him, letting him know she was fully aware of how he had directed her to the least dangerous parts of the garrison, and of how he was keeping Mabel with him so that he personally could keep her out of trouble. Ever the protector, that Stanford, doing what he thought was best for others without consulting them. In this instance she wasn’t complaining, however, so she just shook her head at his faux innocent expression and gave him a long kiss. He brought his hand around to the back of her neck, and she felt butterflies in her stomach before she pulled away.

Lastly, she swept Mabel into a surprise hug and touched their foreheads together, grinning at her giggle. “You stay safe, you hear?” She waited for Mabel to nod and then set off, walking backwards towards an exit. “Let’s meet back here in an hour. See you soon.”

We’re almost through this. In twenty-four hours, my family will be free.

⃝

“I thought you said we were splitting up?” catechised Mabel. “How come I’m coming with you?”

Ford sighed tiredly, having expected this. “Mabel, I know-”

“You know I can handle myself, right? I’m not useless, right?”

“Yes, I know you are a very capable person, and you are far from useless. However, I need you to stay with me because then I can be sure of helping you if you get hurt – which could happen to anyone, not only yourself!” he added quickly as Mabel’s mouth opened, “or in case of . . . any other number of scenarios.” he finished lamely, preferring to ignore the thoughts filling in those blanks.

Mabel was not satisfied with his answer. “You don’t think Addi’s going to get hurt,” she said, rather petulantly.

Ford bit back the first answer that came to mind. Adeline has been surviving on her own for thirty years, and unlike you she is an armed and dangerous adult. That was not to say he was not dreading what might happen to her, now he thought about it. He mentally shook himself. No time, have to sort this out quickly.

He decided honesty would be the best tactic. Quite apart from being the quickest way to appease his niece, she always seemed to know whether or not he was acting truthfully with her, and scolded him if he neglected to do so.

“Mabel, I am far more concerned with your safety than with Addi’s because you are the most important thing in the universe to me. In any universe, really. And I’m sure Adeline feels the same way.” He smiled tenderly. “So therefore, I am not prepared to take any risks when it comes to you. Or, well, unless they are unavoidable, or for scientific purposes, or for fun, or-”

He was interrupted by the fierce hug she gave him.

“Love you too.” she said simply, and looked up at him reassuringly. “I promise you aren’t gonna lose me. NotevenwhenIdothis!”

She darted away from him and dodged through a nearby access doorway. Ford was bolting after her before he fully registered what she was doing, and caught the door before it swung shut completely. Outside the hangar were many service tunnels, and this access doorway just so happened to face a junction of four of them. There was no sign of Mabel.

It was definitely the smart choice, he knew that. With the three of them all scouting different sections of the base their reconnaissance would be accomplished quicker, and they would have a much greater chance of receiving the support of Wikert Expansion Enterprises. He had not been willing to let Mabel go, so she had taken matters into her own hands. He should be proud. He was, on some level.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck . . .”

That level was buried deep beneath layers of anger and terror.

He chose a random corridor and ran down it.

⃝

About forty people in the “wreck-room”. Addi hadn’t been able to get close enough to check properly. Her quick glances from various entrance points were by no means accurate, but they were the best she could do, so she dutifully took down the estimate and the location in the transmitter, holding off from sending the message; she would wait until the entire compound had been seen to.

Security cameras would make this a lot easier, she reflected as she made her way stealthily towards the medical wing, checking rooms as she went. Then again, she didn’t want to be caught on a monitor herself, so maybe not. Overall, it was a good thing that Wesley had dismantled most of the Wikert security he could find. As far as Addi knew, he had never installed a replacement.

The more she thought, the more things there seemed to be that could go wrong. It was unlikely, but not impossible, that some resisters were out at the moment and could come back at the same time Wikert arrived. Several could round a corner and try to stop her at any moment. They could already know she was here, or Ford and Mabel could be being captured right this instant. An ambush could be waiting for her. The approximation they sent Lic might not be good enough. Actually, that was fairly likely. It wasn’t like she could just stop all the resisters from moving around, so she was bound to miss –

Wait a minute. She could stop them from moving around. Risky, yes, but ultimately it would be easier . . .

⃝

Okay, it’s okay Mabel, you’re not lost, you’re just a little displaced.

Everything around her seemed so quiet. She hadn’t yet encountered a single living thing and frankly she was beginning to wonder if anyone even inhabited this part of the building. Was she just wasting time? Well if she was, she had no idea how to get back on track, so she might as well continue the way she was going.

The corridor was very, very long, rounding many corners so it seemed like she was walking in a square shape, but she never came to a junction. There was the occasional door on the outer edge of the square. They had all been locked so far. The ground sloped gradually downwards, and Mabel assumed she was already underground. A feeling of slight claustrophobia was starting to get to her. She really hoped there was actually a way out at the end of this.

She also hoped, probably in vain, that Ford wasn’t worrying, and wondered if he would try grounding her again. It hadn’t worked well last time, as Ford couldn’t work out how to go about it in the first place (what with their nomadic lifestyle), and had melted the instant she snuggled up and apologised.

There was a faint buzzing noise coming from around the next corner. Mabel drew her grappling hook from inside her coat and approached slowly, mouth set in a determined line.

Peeking around the corner, she took in the scene.

The corridor opened into a long, starkly lit space, filled with assembly lines. They were laid out in front of her in parallel rows stretching to the opposite end of the room. Weapons were systematically being tweaked, repaired and cleaned by mechanisms as they moved down transparent conveyor belts. Mabel followed the progress of a gun down the line as if mesmerised.

“Can I help you?” a tinny voice said behind her. Mabel yelped and turned, brandishing her grappling hook.

A stocky robot observed her quizzically. “Is your weapon malfunctioning, small one?”

“Uh, no,”

“Do you have a special repair in need of undertaking?” The robot asked. It looked vaguely humanoid, but it had a sort of trunk with wheels rather than legs. Its chest was also a large magnetic plate, a perfect fit for the crates being filled.

“Also, uh, no,” she replied. The thing wasn’t very threatening. It looked eager to help, as much as a robot can be eager. “I’m looking for a way out,”

“The main exit is located along the east wall. I can guide you,”

“Thank you,” she said courteously.

The robot rotated on its wheels and she followed it past the lines.

“What happened? To the guns and stuff?”

“A mission. These military types are fairly lax with their equipment maintenance, which does not help during a firefight. Apparently, many explosions ensued. Ordinarily they do not take my advice, however, today is recall day and I have the majority of their equipment. I am in charge now. Ha. Ha,”

“Are you like, the supervisor?”

“I oversee repair operations for all technology in the building. Are you a resister?”

“Er,” Mabel considered how to answer. She doubted the robot would care enough to inform anyone, and besides, there was no one around to tell. “No,” she said confidently.

“Thank God. I’ve had enough of them,”

They reached the double-doored exit. The robot held one open for her.

“If you need any technology-related work done, let me know,”

Mabel smiled and went to go through the door. Then she stopped.

“Actually,” she said, turning back to it.

⃝

Nothing for it. She’d have to kick it in.

The operations centre was a sparse office without much use, as all the tech from Wikert Expansion Enterprises had been shut down when Wesley seized control. The only security system he had left active was the emergency fire procedure. Handily enough, it also doubled as a way to keep the resistance cell under control. A way to remind people who was in charge.

Addi’s boot slammed into the door, right next to the lock. It crumpled. Thankfully, nobody was inside and she didn’t have use her sword. Ever conscious of how much danger she and her companions were in, she wasted no time in logging into the system’s mainframe and bypassing the security it threw up. After all that time she had spent trying to open this place’s laboratory, hacking into the network constructed by Wesley was comparatively easy. Once she was in, she pulled up the desired protocol.

Are you sure you wish to close off all checkpoints? asked the computer, holographic words flashing.

Addi hit enter.

Initiating lockdown.

⃝

It quickly became clear that this was not the path his niece had taken. Despite how Mabel was able to move very quickly when she wanted to, the pace he had elected to move at meant that he should have caught up to her by now.

Focus on the mission. Well, the only other option was to develop an ulcer, so scouting it was.

Ford crept onwards, ears strained and weapon ready. He had already narrowly dodged several resisters, and had attempted to memorise their appearance so he could avoid counting them a second time, should the occasion arise. He came to a doorway and quickly checked for occupants. Rather than leading to a conference room of sorts, like the last few had, this opened into a wide hallway, at the end of which were double deadlocked doors and titanium-reinforced walls. On top of all that there were at least nine different types of access scanners.

He had been here before, of course. It was hard to forget an area containing so much security. This was the very lab Wesley had tested his skills as a hacker on. He still felt quite proud of how he had managed to disrupt the system and all its safeguards.

A thought struck him. Ford pulled out his portable monitor and walked over to the left wall, activating the hologram there with a touch. He connected the two devices easily, and set about finding his (virtual) way into the lab once again. It was much easier now that he had done all the work once before.

He typed in one final command, and the computer obeyed. Green lights flickered on all around the laboratory’s entrance, and the door beeped open freely, but Ford turned on his heel and left.

While that will certainly be useful, you still have a job to do.

Past the lab, away from the medical wing, Addi had that covered, here looked interesting . . .

Approximately five floors, eight planning stations, and twenty-six rooms of snoring, off-duty resisters later, Ford checked his watch. It was time to head back. Once again, thoughts about his family’s safety began to arise, but before they could do much more than flicker into life, a sudden wail of alarms crashed into existence, and flashing red lights assaulted his eyes. Feeling his heartbeat skyrocket and adrenaline flood through him, Ford clapped his hands over his head at the sudden deafening and blinding sensations, and was barely able to observe the thick metal seals being lowered at the end of the corridor. He had a feeling the entire section had just been closed off, and that similar things were happening all over the compound.

Who did they catch is Mabel okay what’s happening with Addi are they safe how do I get to them how long do I have –

Cursing and complaining. The sirens had stopped and he could hear people moving away from their shared quarters to find out what was happening. This told him that whatever was going on at least had not been a set-up: they still had a chance.

It hit him that he was trapped in a corridor with many disgruntled resisters on the way. Backup would be fine idea, now.

Ford drew the portable monitor out again and selected the first of two options he had at the ready. Then he drew his gun. Robots were not that reliable, and he was not sure whether these specially designed killing machines would attack him as well.

⃝

“You would like me to shut off all power to this facility’s external defences,” repeated the robot flatly.

Mabel nodded eagerly. “And also stop repairing these weapons. In fact, can you just seal this room completely so no-one can get to it? If most of the guns are down here then that’ll make it so much easier for the WEE people to storm the place and arrest everyone inside,”

“Wee people? Storm the place?”

“Yeah, my grunkle, grauntie, and I kinda recruited this really powerful organisation to help us take you down. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure you won’t go to robot prison or whatever. BUT,” she added cunningly, “only if you help me.”

The robot didn’t need long to make its decision. She was sure that if it were possible it would have blanched. “I agree to your terms,”

Promptly, sirens wailed and a metal plate rolled down over the exit.

“Wow, that was quick! Thanks! I still need to get out, though,” said Mabel brightly.

“I did not do that,”

Mabel laughed nervously. Horrible thoughts about being trapped, being captured, being separated from the others flashed across her mind. “Then who did?”

“Unclear. You may use this to gain passage, however. Take it and please, please, go.” The robot handed her a small, square, squishy thing, which, when she experimentally squeezed it, caused the metal plate to rise about two feet off the ground. It lowered when she pressed it again.

“Thank you so much, you won’t regret-”

“Too late. The sentinels are active.” the robot interrupted. “I do not wish to be involved in this any further. My in-laws are quite authoritarian, the cold-circuited jerks.”

“You have in-laws?”

“The key will give you access through all the checkpoints, and will not mark you as a threat to the sentinels.” It started shooing her towards the exit.

“Does this mean you’re married?” she asked while belly-crawling under the gap. “Can robots even get married? Do you secretly feel love?” No answers were forthcoming. “I’ll find out eventually!” she threatened, and resealed the exit.

⃝

Addi winced at how loud the lockdown had been. Discretion was obviously not what Wesley went in for. The most pressing thing on her mind at the moment though, was finding Stanford and Mabel. The hour was long since up, so they should be safely back in the hangar.

Before she left the operations centre, she checked the status of the building. The resistance would no doubt be on high alert, wondering what was happening. She estimated she had perhaps half an hour before they managed to break through the checkpoints.

Suddenly a cluster of blue dots appeared in the laboratory. They all began moving towards the sleeping quarters.

“That can’t be good,” she muttered.

Addi drew her sword and left, grabbing an access key as she went. The area with those blue dots looked like trouble, and the only troublemakers in this facility were on her side. Ford and Mabel needed her help.

The access key allowed her to bypass several checkpoints, until she rolled under one more and came up facing three resisters. One of them was Dek, who was too surprised to leer.

Limbs reached for guns and Addi’s own finger instinctively thumbed her E-field button. It didn’t work. It just crackled a spark, shocking her painfully. She cried out, already halfway towards them, and she was certain the distraction would cost her the use of at least one arm as someone was bound to shoot at her, but nothing more happened. She looked up in time to see expressions of dawning realisation on three faces. None of them had guns.

“That bloody robot-!” one had time to say before Addi socked him in the jaw and he collapsed. She ducked under another’s strike and sidestepped Dek’s punch, then gripped his arm vice-like and pulled him towards his friend. Their foreheads collided more gently than she meant, but their heads must have been soft because they fell to the floor just like the first guy. She paused to add their number to her total estimate in the transmitter, and hurried onwards. No weapons. That was interesting. And very good.

“HALT. STAND DOWN. HALT,” A booming digital voice emanated from a very deadly-looking black and grey robot ahead of her. It was a sentinel, and several others were behind it. She hadn’t known there were any here . . . wait a second. Hadn’t Ford said something about finding armed robots in the laboratory once? She had a feeling she knew what all those blue dots had been.

“STAND DOWN,” it repeated, lifting an arm which transformed in a series of intricate moves into a plasma cannon. Superheated air wavered inside the glowing orange barrel. There was no way Addi could expect to face off against a sentinel and win – not that she wasn’t tempted to try. Mabel and Ford were in deeper peril every second.

She dropped Big Bertha grudgingly and raised her arms in surrender.

“IDENDTIFY YOURSELF,” the sentinel demanded.

“Adeline Marks,”

The checkpoint was behind her. She had closed it when she stood up, but if she opened it again would she be able to quickly duck under and get away? No, you idiot, that robot is going to kill you if you make one wrong move, and besides, do you really think that plasma cannon can’t melt right through the wall?

“PRESENT IDENTIFICATION,”

“What identification?”

“PRESENT IDENTIFICATION,”

“I don’t exactly carry a passport these days,” Her pulse was roaring in her ears and she wished her smart mouth would shut it occasionally.

“PRESENT IDENTIFICATION OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE,”

Nothing for it. She was going to have to take her chances with the checkpoint.

“Okay, here it is.” She opened the hand with the access key in it, ready to squeeze the living daylights out of it, when the robot automatically lowered its plasma cannon and reverted it back into an arm.

“IDENTIFICATION ACCEPTED,”

“Really?” Addi checked her hand to make sure that yes, she was indeed carrying an access key, not a passport.

“WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS?”

“Orders?” She had absolutely no idea why these sentinels thought they were under her command, but she was not going to complain. “Uh, okay, I need to find two humans. Their names are Stanford and Mabel Pines, and they’re related, if that helps.”

“SCANNING TERRITORY.” After a moment the green thinking symbol in the sentinel’s visor dimmed. “NEAREST TARGET LOCATED. ADULT HUMAN MALE, FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OF AGE, BLOOD TYPE-”

“That’s Ford! Is he okay? Where’s Mabel? Why aren’t they together?!”

“TARGET STANFORD PINES IS CURRENTLY SURROUNDED BY HOSTILE MEMBERS OF WIKERT RESISTENCE CELL 736. SEVERAL FIREARMS DETECTED. ADOLESCENT HUMAN FEMALE OF RELATION TO TARGET IS INBOUND.”

Not having time to sort through all the pressing questions she had, Addi focused on the most pressing issue. “We have to help him!”

“ALL SENTINELS ALERTED. ASSISTANCE WILL ARRIVE AT TARGET STANFORD PINES’ LOCATION IN T-MINUS 10 SECONDS,”

“Okay, take me to him now! Quickly! We need to be there as fast as possible!”

The sentinel immediately fired up its plasma cannon and blasted a hole through the wall on the left.

⃝

Mabel still had no idea where she was. She had some sort of access-all-areas pass, she had been up and down several floors, and her feet were starting to hurt, but she did not have a map. Or a watch. How much time had passed since she left the hangar?

There was sounds of gunfire nearby. Right. She shouldn’t’ve expected all the weapons to be recalled for maintenance. Her eyes widened as she realised what gunfire meant. The resisters were attacking someone! Actually, she supposed it could be Ford attacking them, too. That was better. A much nicer option.

Regardless, she sprinted as fast as she could towards the sounds.

Abruptly, they changed. She didn’t think screams were a good sign. And those blasts were a lot more powerful than usual laser guns. What the heck was happening? There were more noises now. The laser fire had started up again, but there was something else underneath that. It was like . . . crashing? Crumbling? Where was it coming from? Was it getting closer?

A red glow briefly permeated the wall ahead and to the right of her, and then it exploded into the corridor, chucks of concrete flying, making . . . oh! A kabooming sound.

A big metal robot, looking much cooler than the one in the basement, stepped through the hole, followed by Addi and several more robots. At almost the exact same time, the wall directly opposite them, on Mabel’s left, exploded, littering the corridor with debris once again. More robots, these ones escorting Ford, stepped through. Once both humans were standing in the hallway, they all went back through the left-hand hole, presumably towards the resisters.

There was a manic light in her uncle’s eyes, and once he stopped coughing he grinned as broadly as he could.

“You sent these?!” he asked Addi excitedly.

“Yeah! I’m guessing you activated them?!” she said, equally vibrantly.

“I did! Why are they obeying you though?”

“I don’t know! They asked for identification, and when they saw I had an access key they did what I wanted! It was so weird. And awesome! Did you see their plasma cannons?”

“I didn’t know they could be made so small! It’s a wonder of engineering! The sentinels must have seen that the access key and assumed you were the one who caused the lockdown. Since it was initiated through hacking – against the resistance’s wishes – and because I programmed them not to accept orders from Wikert or the resistance, they must have come to the conclusion that they were meant to follow you, since you’re not either!”

“I just thought we needed a way to stop the resisters moving around, and as a bonus this can probably contain them until Wikert arrives! We did it! Wait, you did manage to get a good estimate of your area, right? And by the way, I am so sorry for trapping you with the resisters, I thought you’d be in the hangar,” At this point they were both laughing and gripping each other’s arms tightly, looking as though they were barely restraining themselves from jumping around madly.

“Who cares, you sent robots after me! It was a great idea! Give me the transmitter, I’ll add my estimate.” Ford quickly typed his numbers in and sent the message. “Yes! It’s done! Only between one hundred and one hundred and thirty hostiles, so hopefully they’ll be here soon.”

“Did you notice how most of the weapons are missing?”

“Yes, although I was more grateful than interested. They would have shot me without hesitation if they hadn’t been so surprised. Ha!”

“It’s going to make this whole thing so much easier. I guess the lockdown will have taken away the element of surprise though, won’t it? They’re expecting a big attack now,”

“Well, I do have a diversion planned. This should surprise them,” said Ford, cockily holding up his portable monitor. Addi looked down at it and read whatever was there.

“You’re going to detonate the security explosive in the lab.” she said, and then looked up at him again. “You are damn sexy sometimes, you know that?”

“Just sometimes?”

“Hi! Mabel here!” Mabel watched as their faces changed from delighted to appalled. They hadn’t even noticed she was in the corridor with them. “Just wondering if you guys know we’re still in danger?”

The atmosphere took a sudden dive for distress. Immediately, Ford hastened over and scooped her up, while Addi took her face in her hands and spouted apologies for not thinking of her sooner.

“Are you okay?” Ford didn’t wait for an answer before he started checking her for injuries.

“I’m fine!” Mabel protested, attempting to wriggle down from her uncle’s tight grip. It didn’t work. She winced as she realised that was probably her fault: he didn’t want her running off again. What was more, Addi looked too freaked out at finding her separated from Ford to approve of her decision.

“Sh – Shiny gold rings!” Addi said very loudly. “We didn’t get your estimate! Wikert might not be prepared enough!”

“Actually, the only person I met was a vengeful yet grudging robot who said those other robots were his in-laws. It’s keeping all the guns in the basement. Also, I have an access key too! Do you think the robots would obey me?”

Ford chuckled, and both adults visibly relaxed as they saw she was her usual bubbly self.

“Don’t do that again,” her uncle warned, but no further chastising came.

The sounds of the fighting had quieted down several minutes ago, and the robots had moved somewhere else. All three people jumped when sirens once again wailed and green lights burst into life as the metal plates rolled upwards into the ceiling.

“Looks like the resistance is back in control,” Ford said.

“Not for long,” Addi said, and swiped the monitor from him. She wasted no time in selecting the second option.

A massive explosion rocked the building, coming from somewhere above them. Mabel saw a few pieces of debris actually jump off the ground. No more lab, she thought.

Addi grinned in satisfaction and handed the monitor back to Ford.

“Who’s sexy now?” he said appreciatively.

“Mabel’s still here!” Mabel shouted in his ear.

⃝

Addi led them away from the blast. It had probably been powerful enough to breach the outer wall, so the resistance would be expecting an attack from there. Until the force from Wikert arrived they just had to keep out of sight.

That sounded simpler in theory, Addi reflected.

“Marks. I thought I would find you down here,”