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phoenixblack89 · 3 years ago

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Fera Ingris

Chapter 2: Fuck My Life

So I skipped Vatos. Couldn't get it to work at all the way I wanted it to but did get this finished. Next chapter will probably be out in 2 weeks. It's done but needs editing.

Anyhooo. Enjoy. If ya wanna be tagged so ya don't miss please message me or comment on this! Also up on a03.

Tags: @lilythemadqueen @writingdeadangel @boondoctorwho @fandomsaremykryponite @browneyes528 @darylsgirl

Daryl was pissed. Beyond pissed. The whole rescue Merle plan was nothing but a shit show from the start. First finding Merle's hand and no body attached to it. And no meds for the girl. Then Glenn being nabbed. Then the Vatos and that whole carry on. He was not in the best mood when they discovered the van had been stolen and they had to run back to camp.

"Stupid Merle. Why didn't ya wait asshole?" Daryl grumbled to himself, panting as he followed the three in front of him and hoped he got back before something else bad happened as the sky began to darken.

The walkers had somehow snuck into camp. Shrieks from the children, cries of pain and the vicious sounds of heads being bashed in or blowed out by bullets was all she could hear as she tore through the woods to help. She had gone out to check the snares she and Daryl had left further out in the woods early this afternoon and had found a fair few with small rabbits or birds in them, which she had slung from a rope hanging from her shoulder. Each step causing the critters to bash against her ribs, her two headed axe bashing painfully into her back. The screams and noise grew as she got closer.

She shoved her bow over her shoulder and whipped out her axe and slowed her running. She came to a dead stop as the growls of eight walkers echoed loudly around her. She'd run straight into a group of the undead bastards without realising.

"Fuck my life" She muttered as she started swinging her axe at the nearest walker, swirling it over her head.

"Come on! Hurry!" Rick yelled from in front of Daryl, their ears being assaulted by the sounds of the camp being attacked. Daryl shouldered his crossbow and accepted the rifle from Glenn as they ran up the hill. The chaos in front of him made his blood race as he started shooting at everything in camp, taking care not to hit any one living. His eyes scanning continously for the young woman he had begun to enjoy spending time with, hunting and not.

In what seemed to Daryl as hours, but was only 15 minutes, the camp had been cleared.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Rick thanked Shane for protecting his family as others grieved the loss of theirs. Daryl walked around camp quickly, eyes lingering on every corpse, his heart pounding his ribs in fear as he realised Phoenix was no where to be seen.

"Shane!? Dale?! Where's Phoenix?! Ya see her anywhere!?" He demanded, storming up to the former police officer having checked every bloody body on the ground. Shane ran his hand over his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"Nah man, last I saw her was this mornin' when I took over watch." Shane said quietly, his heart now worriedly gripped by fear for the Brit too.

Jacqui slowly made her way over, hands shaking in shock still.

"I saw her this afternoon, not long after we had to stop Jim. She said something about checking some snares or something. I wasn't paying much attention, I was busy. Maybe she's still out checking?" She said, grabbing hold of her crucifix around her neck in worry.

Daryl grunted and began scanning the tree lines for his, possibly only, friend. He turned to speak to Rick about going to find her when a scream came from the woods. He glanced at Rick and took off in the direction of the woods. Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn followed after him.

5 down, 3 to go...

Phoenix thought her breath coming in short sharp gasps as she pivoted to face the next walker. Her axe gracefully span around the top of her head as she threw all her remaining strength into her swing. The sharp curve of the double blade head making cutting through flesh and bone like butter. She grunted as the head splattered into a waterfall of crimson and black. Her arms ached, her head was lightly throbbing with adrenaline and her energy was fading quicker and quicker. She span on her heels as growls grew around her once more. Another walker fell to her axe and sheer brutal anger.

The last walker was formerly a large male, his stomach as wide as he was tall, making T-Dog and Shane look short; she tugged at the axe still inside the previous walker's skull but it wouldn't come.

"Oh shit." She muttered, her fingers fumbling with the latch to separate her axe into 2 shorter and one handed weapons, the wound on her hand began to throb and pulse painfully. The walker got closer and she dropped her axe and slid to her knees, kicking out to knock the walker down. Unfortunately the beast's size worked against her and it fell onto her. She screamed as this was the first time in a long while she had been so close to one and without a weapon in her hand.

Her hands quickly and harshly shoved the gnarled face and life ending teeth away from her body. Her arms felt like jelly holding the enormous weight off her.

"You ugly fucker." She growled, arms already wobbling and shaking with effort. She needed to somehow roll the creature off her and get a hand free to pull her buck knife, her knife being painfully trapped between her thigh and the walker's massive stomach. She pulled one of her legs free and wrapped it around the waist of the heavy weight man and tried to flip them. It was no good. It was just too heavy for her slightly smaller frame to do.

"Fuckkk"

Her hands had begun to slip, her injured one burning fiercely and getting weaker faster, the wound beginning to ooze blood slowly. Her whole arm was burning, almost as if the flames were still licking along her skin, her chest ached from the weight, she could almost feel her ribs starting to crack as she struggled to breathe. She sighed and pushed with all her might. The teeth slowly getting closer and closer to her face as her vision started to swim towards the inky blackness. She turned her head and screwed her eyes up so she didn't have to see the disgusting pieces of rotten flesh trapped between its teeth, praying to a god she wasn't sure she still believed in that come the opening of her eyes she'd be reunited with her boys.

A whoosh zipped through the air and the next second the full weight of the walker crashed down onto her far smaller and warmer body, pushing all the air out of her in a big gasp. She waited on baited breath for the feel of teeth taking a chunk out of her and it never came. She slowly opened one eye and realised the body on top of her had gone completely still. Footsteps near her had her twisting against the dead walker to face them, dark red-brown boots slowly came into sight as they walked closer and knelt down near her head.

"Wha'd I tell ya 'bout comin' out 'ere on ya own?!" Daryl snarled down at her, before a half smile raised the corner of his lip with a small chuckle. She gave a short sharp laugh of her own before glaring at him.

"Ya cozy down there? Do ya need a moment alone wit' ya new beau?"

"Screw you Dixon and get this fat fucker offer me!"

Daryl smirked and stood up, using his foot to roll the walker off her. She slowly sat up, and took a huge gulp of air. Shane and Rick held their hands out to help her stand, she waved them away and stood. Her head throbbed and she swayed slightly to one side. Daryl put his hand on her arm to steady her and quietly regarded her.

"You alright?" Glenn asked, his face pale as he looked around at the mess her frenzy had caused, blood splattered the trees and the ground, brain matter and bone fell in chunks on the tree trunks and the dry soil. She nodded at Glenn, giving Daryl a look and grabbing hold of her axe to tug it free.

It refused to budge.

Glenn, T-Dog and Shane began to make their way back towards camp.

"Come on you sucker." She growled, grabbing the shaft of her axe with two hands and pulling. It finally flew free and she landed hard on her butt. Daryl barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Shut it Dixon!" She huffed and stormed ahead back to camp as the sun began to slowly rise over the treetop.

"She's a fire ball that one. Might wanna watch yourself Daryl." Rick chuckled as the pair began to follow, Daryl gave him a look and raised his eyebrow in question. Rick shrugged and smiled slightly. "Just saying! Get too close to fire and you get burnt."

Daryl ducked his head and smiled slightly to himself.

I wouldn't mind getting burnt by her, not at all he thought to himself, watching the girl's rear as she stormed in front of him.

Phoenix stopped suddenly as camp came into her line of sight.

So much blood and destruction.

Carol, Sophia and Andrea were sobbing and clinging to their fallen loved ones. Tents were ablaze and being snuffed out by others. The Morales children clung to their mother and father as did Carl to Lori. Dale stood atop the RV on guard.

"Oh fuck."

Shane and the other members of camp were busy doing a headcount or putting the tents that were on fire out. She felt relieved Daryl had saved her once again but at what cost? How many more did they have to loose before everything stopped? Before the dead were actually dead and stayed that way? Until society and law and natural order was restored. Why would her god, a supposedly loving, kind god allow such a thing? Her heart felt heavy enough, this was such sheer cruelty and brutality.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder and she jumped, her buck knife quickly leaving its sheath. Another grabbed the blade before it hit home and a grunt sounded behind her.

"Stop tryin' t' gut me girl." Daryl hissed as he removed his hands from her. "Come on, we got grunt work t' do." He gave her a little nod and walked away.

They'd worked through the morning to get some sort of order back into what was their safe little haven from the plague gripping the world. Sweat, blood and tears were falling to the ground with every step of every man and woman able to help with the clear up. Andrea laid her head bent low on her poor deceased sister's chest. Carol and Lori had settled the children down to sleep in the Grimes tent, Carol's being covered floor to roof in Ed's blood and other gory remains.

What was left was being carried to the pile where Daryl and Phoenix were making sure they stayed dead, Daryl with a pick axe and Phoenix using her own custom made axe. Carol approaches the pair silently and almost immediately the pair stop their actions and watch her come to a slow halt.

"I'll do it. He was my husband" her voice weak with the tremble of unshed tears, despite being an arse hole and abusive, Carol had loved Ed.

The evidence of that being the little girl who slept soundly inside the Grimes tent despite the trauma of the night before. Daryl shares a quick glance at Phoenix, who watches almost cautiously and she gives a tiny almost unseen tilt of her head. Daryl handed Carol the axe he had been using and stands slightly back, closer to the other hunter and watches as Carol heaves the heavy weapon to her shoulders and with a cry throws it down into Ed's remains over and over again.

The gore splattered around the former's head is almost a therapy for the small grey haired woman who had suffered so much at his hand. Carol is heaving in air as she stops and stands straight, wiping tears from her face as she silently hands Daryl the ax, as quickly as she came she leaves.

Phoenix smiled bitterly and reached for the feet of Ed as Daryl took the ruined face under his arm, holding him by the shoulders. They carry him towards the fire where T-Dog and Glenn are burning the walkers bodies. Glenn looks up as they approach and stands.

"No." He says quietly. Daryl and Phoenix drop Ed's body with matching grunts and wipe their arms across their faces.

"What?"

"We bury our dead." The Asian man says defiantly, pointing at Ed. Daryl raises his eyebrow and glares.

"Don't matter. He ain't gonna feel it." Daryl huffs.

"He's dead, don't matter what we do to the body. He's already burnin' in Hell, his fucking useless carcass should burn as well. Fucker deserves it!" Phoenix hisses, she agrees with Daryl. Who knows how long the virus or whatever it is that makes the dead rise would survive without a host. Last thing the world needs is it sitting in the ground and poisoning the land itself.

"NO! We bury them. They're not monsters! We are people. People bury their dead. To honor them. If we don't... We might as well give up our humanity." Glenn exclaims passionately, glancing around at the group, who had fallen silent and were watching the exchange. Phoenix glares down at the ground and walks away. Her head spinning and her hand throbbing again.

Damn Merle, couldn't even get me some meds she thinks, her vision starting to grow blurrier by the second. She walks to her bike and sits down, leaning lightly against its dark green frame. Daryl joins her soon after.

"Hey"

She shields her eyes with her arm as the sun gives the older man a halo of light. "Hello angel" She smirks up at him and nods.

"You okay?" He asked, shuffling from one foot to the other. A nervous habit she found quite funny as her mind thought of another she knew with the same habit. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, it felt filthy and coated in grime and god knows what else. "Rick says we're gonna head t' the CDC."

"Hmm"

"I know we ain't the most... We ain't friends or anythin'"

"Oh DD! Here's me thinking we were!" She laughed lightly, as he sat down on his haunches beside her. He gave a slight chuckle at her as she nudges his leg and he lands on his backside beside her. She gives him a small side smile and gets one in return.

"Yea maybe." He shuffles around anxious about what he's about to say next. "I ain't sure but thought... Maybe... If ya... If ya want... Ya could ride wit' me, in the truck." He chews his lip and waits for the rejection he's sure is coming. "'s okay if ya don't."

"Actually, I think it might be for the best Dixon." His eyebrows shoot off into his hair at the quiet mummer he hears. "I ain't feeling too hot." She says as her head feels heavier and her eyes grow dimmer despite the bright light in front of her. She turns her head to the man beside her and he becomes a blur of shapes as she loses consciousness. Daryl quickly grabbing her before her head made contact with the ground and laying it across his lap, worried beyond anything, his fingers running over her arm gently as he chewed his lip to bleeding point.

Groans fill the cab of the faded blue truck as she begins to stir. An arm is around her waist and is pulling her into the cab.

"Wah?!"

"Shh girlie. Let me get ya settled." Daryl says quietly, sitting her on the bench seat and putting the seat belt over her shoulder. "Ya passed out."

"Huh." She replies, feeling sleep call her backwards once again. "My bike... Tent..."

"I got it."

She mumbles something that Daryl is sure sounded an awful lot like Murph before gently closing the door. He sighs and walks over to T-Dog. The large man looks up as he nears and nods.

"She okay man?" Daryl nods, eyes darting to the RV where Jim lays dying from the bite wound. "Her hand is getting worse ain't it?"

"Merle was gettin' 'er some meds. Didn't see any when y'all came back."

"Don't worry man. We're gonna be at CDC soon. They'll have something they can give her."

"I ain't worried. She's a fighter. She faced worse and got through it."

Both men are quiet for a while, Daryl remembering that awful day that earned the girl the huge cut along her eye and the fear she felt around everyone. "Gimme a hand wit' her stuff will ya?"

"Course man."

The pair quickly gather the bags strapped to the back of her dirt bike and throw them into the rear of the cab along side her bow and axe. Daryl wonders why she kept the large duffel bags on the bike all the time and why it weighed so much but it wasn't his place to go through it so he ignored it and returned to her tent. He felt a touch guilty about being in her safe space while she wasn't with him, especially knowing he was about to touch her belongings. He grabbed the open duffel and began to pack it with the pile of clean clothes beside her bed roll. He blushed as some of it fell and a lacy purple bra and panties set fell onto the ground near his feet.

Damn, ain't gonna be able t' look at her t' same, not that ya ain't been lookin' already he thought as he stared at the delicate items. He felt his cock twitch the longer he stared and quickly grabbed them and stuffed them into the bag. His cheeks still slightly red as T-Dog opened the flap.

"You got another chain on your truck?"

"Yea, let me just finish in here. Then we'll get her bike up beside Merle's" he ducked his head more to hide his embarrassed and slightly turned on face from the man, grabbing the lantern and boots from around him. Shoving them into the bag quickly, T-Dog entered and began to roll the blankets and sleeping bag up. The pair made quick work of packing Phoenix's tent up, even taking it down and rolling it up. It and her bags thrown into the back of the cab next to Daryl's own scant belongings. The bike proved to be easier moved than the pair thought, it sat perfectly in the small gap between the two walls of the truck bed and Merle's monstrous Triumph, secured down with a long metal chain that also held Merle's down. Daryl quickly checked nothing of his or the sleeping girl's had been left scattered about before turning to his own tent.

The group gathered near to the RV as they neared readiness to leave. Phoenix sat in Daryl's truck, quiet and dizzy, her head was hurting something awful and she could barely stay awake. She could see the group talking and saying goodbye to the Morales family but couldn't hear them. After a few minutes Daryl stormed up to the truck, climbed into the bed and russled around near Merle's bike before climbing in beside her. He put a hand gently on her shoulder holding out a bottle of water. She gave him a sleepy smile in return, her hand shaking as she took it. He held it steady as she took a sip.

"Here."

He fished an orange prescription bottle in her direction, his face starting to heat up. She took the pills from him and balanced the water between her knees. Quickly reading the label she smiled. Painkillers. She struggled with the child proof lock on the cap for a few minutes before Daryl reached over and helped her. He slid 2 pills out and dropped them in her hand.

"Don't tell the others about those. Don't want 'em comin' t' me asking fer meds fer a paper cut." He growled harshly. She nodded and swallowed the meds with a mouthful of water. Daryl looked on as she closed the bottle of water and her eyes. The truck moved slowly out of the quarry with the rest of the convoy, horns calling out as the Morales family went a different way.

That night, the convoy pulled into the side of a quiet wooded road and made plans. Phoenix dozed in the truck while others stood watch. Jim's moans coming quietly from inside the RV put everyone on edge. No one complained of their hunger but they all felt it. The children especially. Daryl stood in the truck bed, crossbow raised as his eyes scanned around. Occasionally kneeling down to peer through the rear window at the pale girl in his truck. He and Merle had both decided she was a Dixon, not by blood or marriage but by deed. She had the Dixon spirit and like hell was he gonna let her go.

She's a fighter, baby brother but she needs us. She's our baby sis now, got it? We gotta protect 'er. Merle's voice said in his head as he turned to look at her once again.

She's more to you than a sister Daryl, just admit it t' yaself he thought a small smile on his face as she hugged his winged vest closer to her chest. He'd given it to her as the late summer wind began to chill the inside of the truck. He sighed and stood once more, knowing even if he admitted his feelings he couldn't be with her. He wasn't good enough and she didn't see him that way. Even if she did, the scars would disgust her the second she saw them. She deserves someone who could be everything he wasn't. He was worthless and she was worth so much more.

Don't mean ya can't look, baby brother.

Daryl chuckled at that and looked once again to the girl, nodding to himself.

Ain't no harm in lookin' he mused, looking forward to the girl waking up properly.

The horn of the RV honked loudly in front of Daryl's truck and Phoenix raised her eyebrow in question. She felt slightly better after the sleep but still weak, she hopped out of the truck and felt her knees almost give out. She held on to the side of the truck slowly making her way to the rest of the group. Jim was laid against a tree a little bit up a bank at the side of the road and seemed to want to be left behind. His face was pale and sweaty, under his eyes darkened with sickness.

Daryl came to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her up the bank to say goodbye. She sank to her knees and placed her hand on top of Jim's.

"Hey. I can... If you want... I got a silencer. It'll be quick. I'll sent you on your way with my family prayer." She whispered to him, Daryl waiting at the bottom of the bank with Rick and Shane. Jim smiled tightly as another cramp ripped through him, he coughed up a little blood and Phoenix grimaced.

"No. It's your corrupt we claim, remember?" He laughed, taking her hand in his as Phoenix's face dropped.

How did he know?

"How - ?"

"I saw you. I was in Boston that day, he'd killed my cousin." He smiled slightly, gripping her hand. "I know why you didn't say anything... I'm glad you did it... And don't give up on this group, protect them, they need you. That's your new mission." He burst into a coughing fit and tears dropped down her face as she shuffled away.

She stood slowly and wobbled over to Daryl, he reached an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. The only comfort he could offer. He felt awkward and uncomfortable but he was trying. He felt angry at Jim for causing her tears for a guilt inducing moment but he knew it was natural to seeing someone die. Rick offered Jim a gun which he declined and Jim met Daryl's eyes, Daryl nodded with a grim smile and lead the girl back to his truck. He helped her climb in and secured the seat belt around her as she silently cried. He gave her shoulder a squeeze before getting into the driver's seat and following after the RV. The girl passing out soon after.

Phoenix was thankful when her head started to clear and her energy returned as the huge Atlanta skyline began to grow closer and closer. Daryl chewed his thumb, another nervous habit it seemed he shared with the man she'd once known. He glanced at her as the sky began to darken.

"Feel better?"

"Yea, sorry for going dark on you back there." She whispered, sitting up straighter to glance through the rear window at her bike. "Thanks for taking care of my stuff. Appreciate it."

She smiled at him as the RV started slowing in front of them. The cars all slowed down and stopped beside a road. In front of them was the CDC, its huge glass exterior mostly undamaged except for the expected gore. The barricades and army trucks had been coated with bodies of the fallen soldiers.

She raised herself to her knees and leaned over the seat, grabbing her bow and quiver and throwing them over her shoulder. She climbed out and glanced around as the group began to move towards the building. Rick reached the door and shook it.

Daryl and Phoenix stood side by side, glancing at the shadows that darkened with every minute as the sun began to go down. She pointed towards the barricade as walkers began to approach. She nocked an arrow and let it fly, killing the walker with ease. Her blood pounding as adrenaline kicked it. She blocked the noise of the group out and focused on protecting them. Daryl also shooting at the walkers as the group got louder and louder. Three more walkers fell to her arrows when she felt Daryl tug her arm and try to pull her away.

She spun suddenly as Rick yelled.

"You're killing us! You're killing us!"

Shane began pulling Rick away as a groan of the shutters sounded loudly in the dead city. A blinding light causing the whole group to stop and stare.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER *** NEXT

#PhoenixBWrites #Fera Ingris #twd daryl #twd #twd fanfiction #TWD x bds fanfiction #boondock saints fanfiction #daryl x oc smut #daryl x oc

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codewordpumpkin · 4 years ago

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The Blacklist 8x04 Thoughts

i’m gonna begin with the NEGATIVES first because i like to end things on a high note:

- having to watch Liz reach a new low (shocking, i know) by manipulating and using Ressler, tarnishing a genuine friendship/partnership/sibling-ship through sex

- having to watch the most awkward sex scene in the world... what makes it awkward, you ask? well, the use of body doubles was way too obvious + liz’s dead eyes (lmaoooooo the bitch was ice cold) i mean cmon, i know the lights were off but at least try and be more convincing, girl

- liz impersonating a cartoon villain + liz trying to steal red’s associates literally made me laugh... ah what a joke :’) + i still genuinely don’t understand why liz is THIS fired up on getting “revenge” and killing red... like yes she has a right to be upset for red killing her bio mom in front of her but like... she knew kat for all of two seconds and liz has somehow forgotten all about kat using her and putting her daughter at risk and also conveniently forgetting about all the times RED WAS THERE FOR HER AND PROTECTED HER AND SAVED HER AND LOVED HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i really can’t get over this “character development”... like at least give us a believable explanation for this stupid stupid stupid arc????

- tptb dumbing red down to allow liz to outsmart him... ughhhhhh cmon guys:

1. it’s MARVIN FFS! MARVIN!!!!

2. even if marvin was a traitor, no way red would hand power over to Skip or Chip or whatever the fuck his name is JUST LIKE THAT ugh

3. red (the one we know and love) would NEVER fall for the dumb ass ruse - airline tickets to switzerland with marvin’s real name on it lmaoooooo my god even liz admitted how lame that scheme was

3. cringed when liz got all giddy on the jet... taunting red on the phone as if she’s some mastermind.... bitch please

*now, finally, for the POSITIVES*:

- i actually love the fact that liz and ress slept together bc

1. she was using sex to manipulate ressler

2. her dead eyes say more than anything i could

3. lol it’s like when samar and ress slept together... did anything come out of that? nope, nothing except Saram... aka ressler is just a tool the girl must use to find her way to her actual soulmate/endgame

3. tbh i see this as tptb killing keenler. i have literally zero worries about keenler being endgame. even aram thinks it’s a terrible idea lol “tell me it wasn’t at your apartment”

4. also park calling ress out for wanting to protect liz + park calling ress hot last ep = me thinking park has more of an actual chance with ress than liz does... which is fine by me

- *UNICORN* SOCKS!!!!!! (agnes saying they’re good luck + ress asking liz if she thinks unicorn socks will protect her from red) y’all remember the unicorn references in that one ep back in s6 (seriously can’t remember which ep it was but i think it was in s6) where i think brimley (possibly?) had some sort of UNICORN speech and at the end of the ep (possibly?) red and liz sit on a bench and watch agnes riding the carousel on not just a regular horse but a UNICORN??? ALSO THE SOCKS WERE R E D!!! coincidence?? I THINK NOT

- liz taking her and tom’s engagement ring + thinking fondly of tom + talking to agnes about tom aka her agnes’ “father” = BAIT!!!! tom is dead (DEAD, dead) and not going to return except through flashbacks. I swear to god, tptb are using all this tom reminiscing to set up for some sort of revelation later on (a revelation regarding red and liz ofc... #agnesgate)

- liz looking gorg tho

- red looking gorg too

- shoutout to red’s associates who are loyal AF + liz talking to marvin in the restaurant as if she’s some italian gangster lmao... “you write your ticket... 50/50... i could make you riDICulOUsly RicH” lol also liz telling him red’s not loyal lol says the girl who betrayed literally everyone in her life lollllll please bitch go to your room)

- is it just me or is agnes getting blonder (yes i know it’s a diff child actress, but tptb chose this actress for a reason... #agnesgate)

- red’s very... interesting facial expressions (annoyed? mad? upset? JEALOUS?) when aram and ressler barged into cooper’s office to say liz called + red goading/pissing on Donald bc he fucking knows they slept together lmaoooo loved when red did his squinty face + his tone/face when he says “i believe you do... that’s what worries me” when ress said he believes liz was telling the truth about marvin turning +++ i also think red was more hardcore with marvin bc he was coming right from cooper’s office aka after his little butt-in with ressler aka after he found out liz and ress slept together AND HE’S PISSED (even marvin says “you’re so puffed up with anger, you don’t see it”

- this whole Sick Red arc being pushed in front of our faces and screamed into our ears (red repeatedly talking about his numbered days, repeatedly referencing his will (and leaving everything to liz), showing us red coughing blood + his many pills) just reinforces my belief that Red WILL NOT DIE... this is just bait + set up for next arc or endgame aka red and liz and agnes eventually living happily ever after

- Dembe telling red and us what we all already know aka RED LOVES LIZ!!!! + red admitting he “didn’t have a plan” in a heartbroken voice/face bc he’s a fool in love

- as much as i hate liz antagonizing red, i do like that this evens their playing field a bit, making liz more... worthy? capable? of being a partner to red

- love how murderous red’s face was when he warned the russian dude he better fucking NOT hurt liz keen

* SIDE THOUGHTS * :

- i hope marvin stays loyal to red even after all the goat torture... you’re the GOAT, marvin

- i wish we could’ve seen red’s reaction to liz escaping with agnes (bc he must know that puts agnes *cough-hisdaughter-cough* in even more danger)

- i can’t wait to watch red kill Skip lol

- im sorta ignoring the whole red being N13 thing bc i give zero fucks to who red was (and the entire mythology of the show at this point)... i care about WHO HE IS... and that is a man who just LOVES ELIZABETH KEEN... literally nothing else matters to me

- i know pretty much everyone HATED this ep, but overall, i actually enjoyed it

*** END OF TBL 8x04 THOUGHTS***

this took me forever and a half to write + is not edited (clearly) so please ignore any spelling/grammar/disorganization/whatever

#the blacklist #the blacklist 8x04 #the blacklist spoiler #the blacklist 8x04 spoiler #tbl 8x04 #lizzington

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multiverseforger · 4 years ago

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Edit

Miss Martian is a White Martian known as M'gann M'orzz. She serves as a member of the Teen Titans during the year between the events depicted in Infinite Crisis and the "One Year Later" stories. On Earth, she simplifies her name to Megan Morse.

M'gann M'orzz was originally sent by rocket from Mars to the Vega system to escape the civil war between the Green Martians and the White Martians.[4] To date, it is still unknown when she came to Earth from Vega.

Initially, M'gann pretended to be a Green Martian, like the Martian Manhunter, and joined the Teen Titans. After her feelings were hurt through insensitivity and misunderstanding with her teammates, M'gann left the Titans to be a hero in Australia. Though the Titans suspected she might have been a traitor, it turned out that her accuser, Bombshell, was the actual traitor. After helping the team defeat Bombshell and proving her loyalty, she was accepted as a full member of the Titans.[5]

Miss Martian of the future, with an apparition of Martian Manhunter. Art by Alé Garza.

M'gann and Cyborg travel to Belle Reve to interrogate the depowered Bombshell. M'gann, using her telepathy on Bombshell, discovers the existence of Titans East (Bombshell is seemingly murdered by a mind-controlled Batgirl soon thereafter, but eventually recovers).[6] M'gann fights Sun Girl, who claims to be from a future in which Martians are slaves because of something that M'gann will do (Sun Girl also claims that in the future M'gann will be her slave). Unable to convince Sun Girl to tell her what she will do in the future, M'gann dives into the ocean and then hits Sun Girl with a mass of water, dousing her flames.

The Titans Tomorrow appear with Miss Martian as a member.[7] She has a different look, having embraced her White Martian heritage. Having changed her name to Martian Manhunter, she is killed by her present-day counterpart. As a result of this encounter, the consciousness of her future self has taken refuge in Megan's own mind.[8] An epilogue to the "Titans of Tomorrow: Today!" storyline depicts Miss Martian eight years in the future; she colludes with Lex Luthor and Tim Drake, the Robin of the time and with whom she is having an affair, to clone several deceased Titans, including Superboy and Kid Flash.

Megan is attacked by Disruptor of the Terror Titans, whose weapons almost separate her from her future self.[9] Megan is captured and thrown into a room with Kid Devil, who has been savagely conditioned into a mindless beast. She attempts to calm his mind with her telepathy, but a reincarnated version of Granny Goodness has found a way to inhibit her Martian abilities.

Megan finally manages to restore Eddie's rational mind, and the two escape.[10] Back at Titans Tower, Megan implies that the encounter with Disruptor has allowed her to subdue her future self's consciousness. Her future counterpart seems still able to communicate with her, but M'gann shushes her effortlessly by the simple threat of siccing the cute puppies on her, e.g. feeding her images of cuteness and love.

Later, however, Megan begins showing signs of being unable to subdue her evil self, such as appearing before the team having chalk-white skin as opposed to her usually preferred green skin. She seems as surprised at this as the rest of the team, and later finally comes to the conclusion to leave the Titans for an unknown period of time. Before leaving, however, she says goodbye to the Titans and admits to Eddie that she will miss him the most, to which he questions if she is comparing him to the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz.

Teen Titans writer Sean McKeever has stated that Megan's departure from the Titans is part of a longer story he was working on and that she will return to the team at a later time.[11]

Megan appears in the final issue of the Terror Titans miniseries, having been posing as Star-Spangled Kid in The Dark Side Club's metahuman fights. She had been using her immunity to Clock King's mind control to slowly free the other brainwashed metahumans.[12]

Megan is briefly seen as part of an underground resistance cell in Final Crisis #5 (Dec. 2008). She rejoins the Titans in the aftermath of their failed recruitment drive, bringing new members Static and Aquagirl with her. In the same story, Megan hints that she has rid herself of her future counterpart's consciousness from her mind.

When Beast Boy returns to lead the Titans in the wake of Kid Devil's death, Megan is the only member of the team who is willing to support him. While the rest of the team is busy arguing with him, Megan is attacked and captured by a new villain known as Wyld. After a vigorous battle, Megan is rescued by her teammates.[13]

At some point prior to this, Megan is seen operating on a solo mission where she defeats Brick after he attempts to abduct a young girl and hold her for ransom. Seconds after flooring the kidnapper, Megan is visited by Jay Garrick, who recruits her for some unknown purpose.[14] In the finale of Justice League: Cry for Justice, it is revealed that Garrick recruited her in order to help interrogate Prometheus, who had destroyed Star City. When she attempts to read his mind, Megan is knocked out by specialized mental defenses Prometheus put in place after an encounter with the Martian Manhunter.[15]

Megan later accompanies her fellow Titans to the city of Dakota in order to look for Static after he goes missing. After Wonder Girl, Aquagirl, and Bombshell are kidnapped as well, the remaining Titans track them to an armored bunker. Megan tries to fight off a powerful metahuman gangster named Holocaust, but he is somehow able to resist her telepathic assault and knock her unconscious.[16] After awakening, Megan realizes that she had accidentally struck Raven with a mental barrage, which has now left her comatose. On the way back to Titans Tower, Raven is kidnapped by Wyld.[17]

Brightest DayEdit

During Brightest Day, Megan is asked by Batman to contact Starman after he is captured by a crazed Alan Scott. After coming aboard the Justice League Watchtower, she mentally reaches out to Starman and begins to relay information about his prison, only to transform into her White Martian form and attack the Justice League. Before Megan can injure any of her fellow heroes, she is knocked unconscious by Power Girl, who implies that she had been possessed by the Starheart, the cosmic entity that granted Alan his powers.[18]

Around this time, the recently resurrected Martian Manhunter contacts Titans Tower in order to talk to Megan, and is told by Superboy that she has taken a leave of absence from the team. He heads to Australia to find Megan and see if she has any information about a string of murders that seem to have been committed by a fellow Martian, only to find her tied up and severely beaten.[19] While tending to her, J'onn is contacted by the Entity, and Megan's wounds fully recover. She also senses that there is another Martian on Earth.[20] When J'onn asks Megan who did this to her, Megan says she was attacked by a female Green Martian.[4]

After a mission to rescue Raven from Wyld's dimension, Megan is left in a coma. Cyborg and a scientist named Rochelle Barnes take Megan to Cadmus Labs in order to find a way to help her, and Static (who had lost his powers after the battle with Wyld) comes along with her, stating that she should have a Titan by her side while she recovers. The issue ends with a note stating that the story will be resolved in a new Static solo series, which will launch sometime in 2011.[21]

No longer a member of the Titans, Miss Martian is later attacked by a teenaged psychic named Alexander, who kidnaps her and uses her as bait to lure Supergirl into a trap.[22] After defeating Supergirl, M'gann uses her abilities to help brainwash Blue Beetle and Robin into serving Alexander.[23] It is later revealed, however, that Miss Martian was never under Alexander's control to begin with; she had merely pretended to be while using her telepathy to tell Supergirl her plan. Miss Martian then forcefeeds Alexander's mind with mental feedback, distracting him enough for Supergirl to subdue him.

Along with a number of other former Titans, M'gann returns to assist the team during their final battle against Superboy-Prime and the Legion of Doom.[24] Working together with Solstice, M'gann defeats her old nemesis Sun Girl.[25]

The New 52Edit

In September 2011, DC carried out a revision of its superhero comic book line, including its stories and its characters' fictional histories, known as The New 52. In the revised stories, Miss Martian's first appearance is when Red Robin is shown watching a press conference where Lex Luthor shows off photographs of M'gann as part of a presentation about alien life on Earth.[26]

DC RebirthEdit

DC made another revision of its superhero comic book line, known as the DC Rebirth. Miss Martian appears in the revised stories. Here, she has been assigned by Martian Manhunter as the Justice League liaison to watch over the Titans.[27] The White Martian side of Miss Martian was eventually revealed to the Titans, as she couldn't contain her form after getting attacked by Beast Boy (who lost his self-control seemingly due to the energy of the Source Wall), when they were stranded on a strange planet.[28] With the Titans back on earth, Batman tells Donna Troy that Martian Manhunter's actual intention to place Miss Martians on the Titans was to protect her true nature and keep her safe.[29

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finsterhund · 4 years ago

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Sorry I haven't been updating this blog that often. I mostly just share short little updates on twitter. Cazza being around makes me less compulsive about keeping up with social media.

Cazza has a vet appointment in a little over a week and she'll be getting a checkup and shots.

Her tag also arrived in the mail so there's the relief of people being able to call my number if she gets lost somehow.

I am finally working on my childhood computer. The one that's been in pieces for years and years that I've been not strong enough to work on. Well now I am. Only thing I need to do now is get off all the rust on the metal case with CLR (the hardest part honestly) and get a compatible power supply and I'll be able to see how healthy the parts are. I know already that the floppy drive works because I installed it into Big Boi to work with the stinky floppy disks. I'm most worried about the ports on the motherboard because they were exposed to the outside air for the ten plus years the computer was kept outside, and the hard disk. Because if the hard disk is dead all the old childhood games and paint art and stuff will be gone.

Still remorseful that my mom recycled my teenage computer without my consent but as I was recently clearing out some backups from that time and found MSN messenger chatlogs where I got groomed at 13, maybe that era being lost forever is for the best. That's the era where I experienced the worst of that.

I'm still feeling stressed about the situations involving my housemates. It's something I have no control over and can't fix though so I try to just ignore it.

Still wishing my creative strength and drive would "return" but the more I think about it the more I'm realizing that this is my undiagnosed ADHD catching up on me and I'm not going to be functionally consistent with doing things, even for fun and recreation, unless I'm receiving help in regards to that. Annoying that my psychiatrist seems convinced we have to only work on "more important things" first. I personally think my PTSD would be easier to handle if I was medicated for what is quickly becoming apparent as ADHD which would allow me to focus more on creative endeavors that while I have plenty of ideas I just can't get past the executive dysfunction to actually focus on them. The whole notion of triaging a disorder over a developmental condition frustrates me because they're all impacting my brain and I don't see why they can't work on things that aren't as immediately pressing or dangerous.

I feel that stopping my dysfunction from holding back the things I want to do and create will give me a better headspace to work through trauma.

I usually love participating in april fool's day but for some reason this year I just couldn't. I even had an idea for a silly little easy to edit bait and switch video but I just didn't have the drive to make it.

Cazza does wonders helping me with my depression and loss and lack of a will to live but as wonderful as she is she can't cure executive dysfunction.

I will say though I do feel I have been getting more things done with her now though. Like my technology spring cleaning.

She's lying next to me in my bed, her head on my lap and fast asleep as I write this. She is legitimately the most beautiful little darling in the whole wide world and part of me wishes I could just stare at her and not do anything else.

My friend Will is going to be working on something cool and HoD-related for me soon. Which I am excited for. I'm also hoping that I can finally get back into streaming games on twitch.

That's all I can think for now. I don't know why I've moved my more memey jokes and casual updates over to twitter. Maybe I just get more interaction on there. But I'll still try to keep you guys up to date.

#text post #long post #csa mention #update

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years ago

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One Day At A Time - Jensen x Reader

A/N: Part Five! I jumped on to edit tags, so have it half an hour earlier than it was queued for. If you’d like to be tagged, please send an ask or message. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Widower!Jensen. Unrequited feelings. Sexual awareness. Guilt. The usual, at this point. We’re about to pick up!

Word Count: Roughly 2,800

“Papa Ackles!” You were hugged by the older man, tightly when you opened the door. The name had been adopted by you teasingly and had somehow stuck for the one and only Roger Alan Ackles. He liked to kid that his son was the prettier of the two, but the family resemblance hadn't been spared. Namely in that smile. Then there was the crinkles by his eyes. His genes were every bit as present as his wife's. “I didn't know you were coming over. Is Donna here, too?”

“Nah, she's busy checking in on Mackenzie.” A wink sent your way made you chuckle. You could only imagine the drilling the younger sister was busy getting from the sweet, mother hen. “Is my boy busy, or can I bug him for a bit?”

“He's in the pool with the kids.” Your thumb pointed towards the back, as you opened the door further to allow him inside.

“And why aren't you out having fun, too? Too old?” To the patriarchal figure, you weren't a housekeeper and nanny mix. You were part of the family and that was that. And, it was his and his wife's duty to look over the herd. Which meant you weren't spared from the loving questionnaires. “My son overworks you.” He knew it wasn't true. Was just trying to get a reaction. You simply tsked, not taking the bait as you got back to work. “What're ya working on today, missy?”

“I'm only thirty. Who're you calling old, Pops?” You teased, lifting up the laundry basket you'd set out. You'd gained the response you wanted. That tossed back, full bodied laugh his son had inherited. If it ever came to you leaving? You'd miss that over exuberant old man. “And this?” The laundry basket was kicked forward a bit for emphasis, “This is the last thing I've got queued up. Now, go harass your son. He'll love it.”

A pat to your shoulder and an affectionate kiss on the cheek left you alone as he moved down to the pool room. You knew the moment the kids had spotted him. The echoing 'papa's sounding loudly up the stairs.

You moved down to the old cellar to pick up the discarded clothes from the kids. Or so you told yourself. It had nothing to do with the desire to be one of them. Nothing at all.

There wasn't even ten minutes of peace that passed before another, younger, Ackles invaded your alone time. A still damp Jensen walked in, rubbing his hair with the towel. Shirtless and completely at home in his skin when away from the camera, he padded over to the wine cellar. Searching out his favorite stash. You wanted to believe that you were strong enough to not lift your gaze away from the cleaning repeatedly. But, you weren't.

The sinewy muscles across his arms and back were outlined as he moved. He could be a little shy about the less than chiseled belly, but he had no reason. Mouthwatering still accurately described the being in front of you. Small drops of water trailed down as he grabbed two beers from the mini fridge he'd installed some time back. His swimsuit was dry enough to not drip, but damp enough to cling to the curve of his ass.

Every fan girl's wet dream was less than a foot away. And you couldn't touch. Shouldn't have even looked.

As he turned back around, you forced yourself to stare down at your hands. Not letting the lust you were sure was obvious anywhere near his eyes. “You're not gonna visit?”

There. That I can handle. With a shaky breath, you yanked your mind off him. Back to reality, instead.

“No,” You answered easily, folding the little dinosaur shirt that Zeppelin had almost destroyed neatly. “I already said hi.”

A low hum was all you got for a moment. Leaving you to believe that was the end of the discussion. But, he hadn't walked away.

“Are you alright?” The troubled question took you by surprise well enough that your head lifted. That was a mistake in itself. It left you to stare temptation down. “You've been...different.”

“I...” Clearing your throat didn't get the lump out of it when that bearded, overly attractive bastard's unreal pine gaze seemed to bore into your very soul. “I'm...I'm fine.”

“No, you're not.” That finally gave you the strength to jerk the pile of clothes upwards as he set down the beverages. Before you could make it out of there, a hand gripped around your arm. You froze at the firm touch. “Y/N...what's going on?”

His hand was ice cold from the both drinks and pool. You shouldn't have felt so warm. Yet, the contact made your blood pump faster. Looking down, his fingers weren't tight enough to leave marks. Simply catch your attention. And, boy, did it.

Breathlessly, you finally found your voice, “Let me go, please.” You were dropped as if he'd been burned. You knew the feeling well. The flesh he'd touched felt as if he'd branded you. “I said I'm fine.”

“Did...Did I do something?” He was trying to understand the distance that had sprung up over the past few weeks. His tongue wet his lips as he stared you down. Only making it harder to focus.

Even with the kids, you seemed to have taken a step back. They assumed you weren't feeling good. He was just clueless. As often as you were there, and as much as he knew, there was still a whole lot of empty resting between you two. It could have been anything.

“No.” That didn't help him piece it together, any. He wanted to know. Needed to. “Look, I'm okay. I just...I need to finish this up.”

Your eyes continued to evade him. Seeking a way out. As if he'd held you trapped in his home. Immediately, he wondered if that were the case. You hadn't said anything. But you wouldn't. He knew that beyond doubt.

“Look, the kids and Pops were hoping you'd join us back there.” He pointed towards the door. Hoping that the old man could see past your guard. Get you to open up. “You can take a beer. Wind down a bit. Socialize with someone other than us.”

Arguing the point was useless, then. Unless you wanted to look like an ass, anyway. Jensen, bless his heart, was truly unaware of what was plaguing you. Even if half the world seemed to see right through the wall.

His obliviousness was both endearing and maddening. The loyalty to his late wife so sweet that it ached. Blindness to you? Scalding. Even though it never should have mattered.

“Okay,” Your shoulders wilted as you said it, making him frown further. Settling on the defeat. So confident that he'd solved the riddle.“Give me a minute and I'll be out there.”

“About time!” Roger boomed, drawing eyes your way.

You'd taken your time about it. An extra few minutes to clear your head. Long enough that everyone acted as if you'd been gone for weeks rather than had a few extra moments to yourself. Kids chattering all about; beyond excited that one of their favorite humans had finally decided to join them.

“Yeah, but I brought food.” The tray you carried held chicken salad sandwiches, some fruit, and some more drinks. It gave you the out you'd needed. “It's excused.”

“You keep this one around,” Papa Ackles hummed happily as you set the tray down in the middle of the large picnic table that rested on the perfectly manicured lawn. Rubbing his hands dramatically as he dug in.

The kids joined in, but Jensen waited. His eyes latched on you as you sat across from him. Careful not to bump your legs with his bowed ones. As if a single touch were more than you could stand.

You tried to ignore him. Focusing on the munchkins that were determined to make up for lost time. Talking with mouths full. Spraying water from their bodies everywhere as they fought for their feast. Not the food. But, your attention.

Texan sun beat down on your back. Hot and heavy in only the way the south could accomplish during the summer. Scalding through the clothes. You slipped the flannel you'd been wearing down over your arms as you managed a slightly average conversation with the older gentleman over the desperately goofy children.

The sun kissed skin wasn't anything that Jensen hadn't seen before. Yet, he found himself gazing over it as you patted down his curly coated dog. Imagining himself burying his face against the place where your neck met your shoulder. Pressing a kiss to the pulse point that would be racing. It was so vivid that he couldn't quite shake it away.

What the fuck? He came to his senses as you tossed the shirt over to the chair at the end of the table that had his clothes. However, it was soon lost when he focused on the pile. All he could picture was the bare skin meeting just as fabric had under the sun. Maybe Cliff is right...maybe I do need to get laid.

His body couldn't agree more as it awakened for the first time while he wasn't buried in his subconscious. The cold water that still clung to him doing nothing to slow his blood. A mistake in the making.

His mind tried to rationalize it away. You were too young. A young thirty just that year. There was the fact he was technically your employer. You'd been his wife's friend, for fuck's sake. A million reasons why it would never work. Yet, the longer he sat there, the more he found himself studying you.

There was the curve of your neck that came into his line of vision when you turned to address Zeppelin on one side, or Arrow on the other. The way the top of your breasts peaked out of the tank top as you leaned over to pour some homemade lemonade for J.J. How soft your legs were against his when Oscar knocked under the table.

“Jensen,” His name was said in confusion. Not the feminine, lust hazed moan he'd imagined. Slowly, he blinked away every piece of carnal sin that lined his deprived brain to stare at his future face. Roger didn't hesitate to investigate. “You okay?”

“I'm good,” The crack of his all too high voice said otherwise, but you didn't call him on it. Instead, you simply frowned a bit before excusing yourself. Making him feel ever the heel.

–

“Night, love.” You whispered back to Zeppelin as you shut his door. Sighing in relief. Everyone's worried gazes were getting to you. As if you were going to fall apart at the slightest inconvenience.

Sneaking out the back, you practically ran to your escape. Only to be caught by a looming shadow. There wasn't time to scream before the fuzzy beast beside him made it clear who it was.

“Can we talk? Without the kids, around?”

“About what?” You wheezed, holding your hand over your heart. Still trying to recover from the shock. There wasn't an option given. Instead, you were dragged to your home by your wrist. “What the hell is up with you?”

As soon as your door shut and light flicked on, he got down to business, “I could ask you the same thing.” Oscar danced around your living room. Sniffing the aquarium housing the clawed frog as he ignored two of his favorite people. “What's going on, Y/N?”

“Nothing.” You shrugged out. Refusing to make eye contact.

“Right...Okay, let's approach this differently.” That made the E/C sweep back his way. Distrust lining them. “My name's Jensen...not Mr. Ackles.” The commanding tone went straight to your ovaries as he stepped closer. Looming over you as he made his point.

“Really? Because right now? All I see is Dean Winchester.” The sass fell short as you caught your breath. Swallowing tightly, you got to the point. Hoping it would give you some space. “You want the truth?” A simple, stern nod was your only response. “You were right.”

“On what, exactly?”

“You're all about to switch up your lives completely, Jay.” Heavy defeat seemed to line your face as you backed away. Plopping on the couch in clear exhaustion. The poodle mix waddled your way. Reaching up to sniff your cheeks while his owner stared in utter confusion. “You're going to have all the time in the world....and...You guys aren't going to want me around, forever.” Your fingers pulled out a small knot in the coat you'd brushed just that moment. “It just seemed easier to back off, now, than to just walk away later.”

“Huh...” As he processed what you said, he turned away. Looking back around the room. Taking in all the pieces of you for the second time. “You really think those kids,” His fingers pointed to a selfie they'd taken with you, “are just going to let you walk away because I'm home more?”

“They have you,” Was shrugged out. As if it were really that simple.

“Yeah...but they want you, too.” Your head bowed at that. You'd known they had. But, that didn't mean it had to last forever. “I didn't mean to make you think that the ending changed...this.”

“It does, though.” The words were soft, but sad. Tearing through the air like a bullet as you focused in on the dog. “I'm a nanny...that's it. The second you're done? My job isn't as important. You can take on the brunt of it, and still be fine.”

“If you were just a nanny? I wouldn't be here right now.” Slowly, your gaze lifted. “Hell, Y/N...even if you decided to leave on your own? That door'd always be open for a visit. You've gotta know that.” Something in your eyes said you hadn't quite believed him. “Not everyone is just going to boot you out and never look back.”

“It doesn't feel that way.” The vulnerability on your face was unexpected. Jensen didn't bother to hesitate. Plopping down beside you. His arm flung around your back. Tugging you into a friendly hug. “What're you doing?”

“Trying to get past those feelings,” He huffed out. Resting his chin on the top of your head. “Besides...pretty sure my dad loves you more than me.” The small laugh against him made his lips kick up. “If I tried it? He'd off me.”

“You're probably right,” A gentle sigh left your lips as you held on tightly for a moment. But, then, you pulled back. “Thanks...I needed that.”

“Anytime, Y/N...” A short whistle followed. Immediately, the doodle turned tail. Diving to his owner's command. “And...I was thinking.” His hand stilled the squirming beast as he moved to open the door. “Maybe you'd wanna help me take the kids out. Laser tag, family night?”

“Count me in.”

–

“We're all ready,” Your hands pressed on your hips as you looked over the packed up SUV. Filming was about to begin. And with it? Would be the announcement. Things were speeding up and no one quite knew what to do with it all.

It had taken over a week to get everything ready. The kids had stayed with Danneel's family while you and Jensen worked on packing up for them and the dogs. You stocked up for the house sitter while Jensen finished rounding up the heathens. And then? It was time. You were all due to meet Jared at the airport.

“It's kinda bittersweet,” Jensen stepped up beside you as the kids fastened their seat belts. Awaiting their annual trip to Canada. The dogs wagged their tails eagerly from inside. Crowding in a fashion that screamed all American family.

“Focus on the sweet,” Your fingers squeezed his arm. An action that was nothing more than a way to express empathy before your name was cried out from inside. “And, that's my cue. You got the last bag?”

“Yeah, I got it,” A crooked smile made his stomach twist. A problem that hadn't ebbed since the day at the pool. As you climbed in, he focused a little too long on the way your shorts rode up when you bent over to help Arrow buckle up. Jensen shook his head before lifting the final bag. “You're losing your damn mind, Jay...”

“Sure as shit,” Cliff barked beside him. Making him jerk in surprise. “But, what's new?”

A glance your way seemed to catch the security guard's attention, “We'll talk later.”

Part Six

ODAAT: @winchester-ofthe-lord @smoothdogsgirl @ima-be-a-mongoose @briagallen @agusdoti @my-proof-is-you @thevelvetseries @blacktithe7 @sucker-for-dean @deanwinchestersmydaddy @sociopathtime @deans-baby-momma @aomi-nabi @brandinicole911 @demonqueen47 @c-ly-g @bakabozza @socalgem1124 @hillface89

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff @woodworthti666

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @michaelneedssomemilk @lemondropirwin @fanfictionismydeath

#supernatural #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #Supernatural angst #spn angst #supernatural reader insert #spn reader insert #Jensen Ackles #jensen #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #jensen x danneel

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enchanted-prose · 5 years ago

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#10 Renegade Niece

i’m treating myself because I liked writing this and I wrote an impossibly long essay :,)

Word count: 5,294

Characters: Roden, Jaron, Ayvar (Original character), Jamie Todd (Original character), Merry (Original character), Nila

Notes: Edited and my goodness I just loved writing this. Also I forgot to put in lines for the last two submissions and I’m so sorry. There is one important vibe that I’m going to discuss; consider how it feels when your pet begins chewing something they’re no supposed to, and when you tell them to stop, they start chewing faster leaving you no choice but to run at them.

Sleep wasn’t something that Roden excelled at. He fell asleep whenever and wherever he did.

And it just so happened that this time, he’d fallen asleep with his head on his desk.

“Rise and shine!” Bellowed an all too familiar voice, successfully bringing a wave of sound into the once silent office.

Startled, Roden lurched backwards, his chair tipping dangerously backwards until it hit the floor, taking him with it. He shut his eyes. “Good morning Jaron.”

“There’s business to discuss, we can’t have you sleeping.”

“I know, Jaron, I know. Give me a moment, I already have a list of things I need to do.”

Although Jaron was standing at the opposite end of the room, Roden could sense his smug grin. Jaron cleared his throat. “I only wake you this early because I have to ask a favor.”

“And that is?” Roden asked, sincerely hoping it had nothing to do with waxing the hair off of his legs. Jaron had proposed that once, and every member of the king’s circle learned the importance of keeping Jaron occupied with trivial matters in addition to his political duties.

Late morning light glowed all around the room. Roden blinked several times as his head began to plant itself in the waking world. Jaron was dressed in his usual plain clothing, lucky him.

Roden wanted to scrub his teeth clean.

He hated it when he slept in his office.

“I, ah, told Mott to take it easy today because of the events from two nights ago. He has a few reports that need to be looked over and signed.”

“How many reports are there?”

It didn’t actually matter, Roden had every intention of doing them anyways

Jaron scoffed, “I don’t know the answer to that.”

“And when do they need to be finished?”

“Tonight, if possible.”

Roden groaned, and dragged himself to his feet, pulling a piece of paper from his forehead. “Alright, consider them done. But I won’t be able to spar today, Jaron, I have too many things to do.”

“It’s not a problem,” Jaron scratched the back of his head. He looked tired. “Feall is convinced that we have a vital playing piece in our custody, the girl who was captured the night he was attacked.”

The details from that night were still fresh in Roden’s mind.

He went over them as often as he could, always trying to find connections. The girl who’d been taken into custody, a member of the Faola, was somebody Roden had met before. She’d been in the Vaults one night when Roden was on patrol, and allegedly she was assisting another member of her gang in saving a trio of children from a horrific fate.

She’d told him her name: Ayvar.

Ayvar with scarlet hair who bent the rules to help other people.

It was hard to believe that somebody who would brave the Vaults would be driven to cut the head off of another human being.

There was something not quite right about the situation.

“I can see smoke coming out of your ears, are you thinking?”

“Shut up, Jaron.”

“Definitely thinking. Be careful, it’s dangerous.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Roden pinched the bridge of his nose for a split second. “Have you received any information about Queen Danika’s representatives?”

Hesitation visibly weighed on Jaron’s every move. He finally nodded. “They’ve been combing through nearby towns, and will be here tomorrow. I suspect that they will want to interview the girl who attacked Feall.”

“I told Amarinda she was allowed to visit Ayvar if she wanted, I think she’d have more progress than a group of investigators.”

“Good move, is it wrong to say I’m curious about the results?”

“So long as nobody is hurt in the process, I think it’s fine to want to know how it all ends,” Roden gestured to the door. “I’m going to check on her if you’d like to come with me.”

“Amarinda? I don’t think she’d like to be-”

“Ayvar, I meant. I’d be responsible if something happened to her.”

Jaron stepped out of Roden’s office, and combed his hand through his unruly hair. “You think she’s innocent?”

“I try to believe everyone isn’t as bad as everyone says until it can be proven true,” Roden shrugged. He rubbed his eyes.

The dungeons in the castle were odd, particularly because they provided a decent amount of space in each cell. Roden had seen all too many dungeons crafted out of caves and tunnels only big enough for a child. The scent of moldy food was a smell Roden would never come to appreciate. Jaron laughed at him when he stepped away from the mangy guard dog.

There was no telling what would happen if the mongrel bit him.

Roden tried not to think about how he’d die, but he certainly didn’t want his cause of death to be because of a nasty, dirty mutt.

Ayvar had been placed in the last cell. She’d braided her flaming hair around her head, likely to keep it out of the dirt. When Roden and Jaron approached, she sat straight up, her hands cradling her knees to her chest.

“Everything been alright?” Roden asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I suppose,” Ayvar frowned. “I’d rather not be here.”

“I’d rather that you didn’t attack my friends.” Jaron’s biting tone caused her to flinch.

“You don’t really think I was stupid enough to do that, right?”

“I’ve seen plenty of people doing stupid things.”

Roden nodded in agreement. Just the other day, he’d watched Merry shove herself into a barrel and roll off of a bridge into the Roving River. He’d also seen Jaron almost get away with sledding down the grand staircase in the throne room. However, Mott had been there to save the day.

But that unfortunately didn’t stop Jaron from trying to do it again.

Ayvar scowled, “It. Wasn’t. Me.”

“But you were there,” Roden pointed out.

“I was there because I didn’t think the plan would go through!”

“So you knew there was a plan. Who thought of it, if it wasn’t you?”

“I-,” Ayvar jumped to her feet, fire blazing in her eyes. “It’s probably a false name. Goes by all sorts of nicknames, we started calling her Patches. But the arbitrator is a woman, like me.”

“I hate false names,” Jaron mused.

“Ironic,” Roden noted.

"You have to believe me when I say that I wasn't responsible," Ayvar's voice was rising. "I don't care what anyone else says, it wasn't my fault!"

Her voice echoed through the dungeon, and received a bark of disapproval from the guard hound.

Jaron inhaled, "If what you say is true, then we'll release you, I can promise you that."

"It is true and I'll prove it. If Harlowe won't listen to me, then I'll go to Feall. He and I fought our patched enemy together."

"I do recall you saying your patched enemy was actually your friend, at one point," Roden noted. He was still getting used to having a surname to claim.

"That's not true anymore, otherwise I wouldn't have been left in here."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity."

"Then you won't get our company either," Jaron shot back as he walked away from Ayvar's cell.

Roden stared at Ayvar, but left before she could throw any words at him. She went back to sitting in the corner, and said nothing as footsteps rang through the quiet dungeon.

A courtier was waiting for them halfway down the steps, and promptly dragged Jaron away to attend a meeting with King Oberson. Roden seized his chance to return to his chambers and scrub his teeth and face.

He'd almost managed to shave when he heard the clatter of stones from the courtyard.

Through his window, Roden could see a group of pock marked boys, their sizes varying, but their intentions the same: Torment Ayvar by throwing insults and rocks into her cell.

Abandoning the razor, Roden left his chambers, tugged a doublet over his head, and prepared himself for shooing away a gaggle of bored brats.

Too much had happened during the past few weeks. The stone-throwing boys were added to Roden's long long list of things that annoyed him.

One of the boys stood out from the rest, Jamie Todd. He'd thrown the first stone. Roden recognized him. Jamie was among the boys who were desperately hoping to somehow gain a knighthood. Hoping to mean something more.

That wouldn't happen so long as he was throwing stones at a girl in a cell.

Was having a little bit of peace in the courtyard too much to ask?

A loud whoop erupted from the boys, one of the stones had probably found its mark. Jamie waved his arms above his head as he did an odd victory dance. They'd been clever enough to draft up a little song:

When Daftie Ayvie passed away,

Whadya think they done?

Chopped her up a fishin’ bait:

Copper for a ton!

Devils have the guards on patrol who let the stones be-

A newcomer had joined the group. A girl. A head shorter than half of the boys. Much shorter than Jamie Todd, who was almost the size of Mott.

Mangled hair, holes in her chemise's shoulders. Merry had come to pick a bone.

"Fe-fi-fo fum!" Merry jabbed her finger at Jamie. "I smell the stink of a big boy's bum!"

"Hey!" Jamie cried, all of his attention glued to Merry.

Roden should have seen it coming.

Merry jabbed her elbow into Jamie's stomach, and down, down, down he went. The other boys scrambled away as Merry grabbed Jamie by the ears.

"She's going to tear them clean off!"

"Get some help!"

"My ears! Don't! You'll rip them-!

"Can't help it! Your ears are wonderfully handy!" Merry taunted. "They're like mug handles!"

Roden dashed across the courtyard as Merry slammed Jamie's head into the ground, resulting in his howls echoing across the courtyard. She triumphantly demanded an apology for throwing stones at Ayvar, but none came.

"Somebody help me!" Jamie bellowed, moments before Merry cracked her head against his.

"See the lovely stars, Jamie!"

"She's kilt me!"

"You're going to wish you'd been kilt you mangy, slimy, son of a-!"

In Merry's hubris, she'd forgotten about pinning down Jamie's hands. He swung his fist into the side of her head. Although she wobbled, she didn't topple over.

"I see a bit of brains dribbling-!" Smack! "-out of your ear!"

"Get off of me! Help! She's kilt me!"

"Pity your mother didn't cook you longer," Merry snipped, prepping to bash Jamie's head into the cobblestones again.

Roden finally managed to wedge his arms between Merry and Jamie, while Lieutenant Alistair picked up Merry by the waist, and dragged her off of Jamie. Roden nodded his thanks as Merry cursed and kicked and Jaimie wept as he covered his ears. He was convinced that his brain was bleeding out from his nose.

"I'll take care of the kids," Roden noted, motioning to the large fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

"Yes sir!" Alistair boomed as he somehow managed to keep Merry from escaping to beat the other boys as well.

"Stand up," said Roden as he let go of Jaimie. He then instructed him to follow his finger as he moved it back and forth in front of Jamie's eyes.

He wasn't sure how rattled Jamie's brains were.

"I'm kilt," he wailed. "I'm a member of the undead. I’ll never be a knight now!"

"Not quite, but I hope you've learned something."

"I learned that I hate girls!"

"You'll have a lonely life then, I suppose. Don't throw stones at people worse off than you Jamie, it's not what a knight would do."

Jamie wiped his nose, which had finally stopped bleeding. "I'm- I'm sorry we were- we were just bored."

"Don't apologize to me. You have my permission to be inspected by the castle physician. I'll have my lieutenant escort you."

If he hadn't just been smacked around, Roden was certain Jamie would've fallen to his knees with gratitude. Speaking to the captain of the guard and being around Sir Alistair Derforgall in one day? It was any aspiring soldier's dream.

Roden had been in those shoes once. Idolizing Carthya's heroes.

But you couldn't be a hero and throw stones at prisoners in cells.

Alistair had seated Merry on the edge of the fountain. She crossed her arms. “I’m too angry to give a genuine apology right now, but I do feel bad, so I’m sorry. Give me a few hours before I have to say it to Jamie. I don’t like giving empty apologies.”

“Weren’t you just telling me about being safe while throwing a punch?” Roden asked.

“That’s because I’d- gah, don’t remind me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Dragon’s Keep?”

“Ayvar is my friend, I came to check on her,” Merry shrugged. “Dawn gave me twenty minutes, but I’ve used up that time in, ah, not very smart ways. Did you forget to shave?”

Roden held completely still as Merry trailed both of her fingers across his stubbled face. “I was in a hurry.”

“I kind of like it.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I just like you, shaved or unshaved.”

“You’re a grisly sight. Best mop you up before you return,” he grinned. Roden then pointed to his left eyebrow, where a long, thin scar started just above his eyebrow and dipped down to the top of his cheekbone. “I’ve had a few head wounds myself.”

A smile tugged at Merry’s mouth, and she visibly tried to fight it with a frown. “I suppose we’ll match.”

“We’ll have to see.”

“There’s no point to life if I don’t have a scar that makes people wonder if I’m secretly a pirate.”

“Are you secretly a pirate?” Roden pulled a spare handkerchief from his doublet pocket, “I suppose it’s my turn to clean you up, would you prefer your own spit or fountain water?”

“I’d prefer your spit, actually.”

“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t say that.”

“Because it makes you uncomfortable?”

“Quite the contrary, I think there’s a better way to exchange spit than-,” Roden cleared his throat. “I take that back. It does make me uncomfortable.”

It seemed that Merry was uncomfortable too. Her face had gone redder than the blood dripping from the cut on her forehead. “I’ll take water. It’s, ah, really warm.”

She was right, the summer morning sun was beating down on the two of them. Roden cupped the unbloodied side of her face as gingerly as he could. He wet the cloth, knelt on the ground in front of her, and forced himself not to grin as he began wiping the blood off of her forehead.

The frown faltered.

“So,” Merry said.

It wasn’t exactly a question, it was more of an invitation. There was no obligation for Roden to say anything if he wanted to. He was allowed to speak about anything that he chose to do. He could talk about the situation with Ayvar. He could talk about how his niece, Nila, wanted to have a picnic for her tenth birthday and that he didn’t know what to get her. He could talk about how he’d begun to see his childhood friend’s death in his dreams.

How he feared that there was something hiding in plain sight.

Something awful.

She was giving him a choice.

And that made him want to tell her everything.

“I have extra reports I need to file tonight,” Roden said as he wet a new portion of his handkerchief. “But I’ve spent too much time in my office. Makes me lonely.”

“Don’t your friends pay attention to you?” Merry arched her unbloodied eyebrow.

He shrugged, “From time to time. They don’t tell me colorful stories about fish hitting my face.”

That made her smile.

“By the way, I never thanked you for the coin you gave me. Where’s it from? I don’t recognize the design.”

“It’s from my home, but it’s not accepted here. Figured I’d give you a trinket. Have you considered getting a pet mountain cat to keep you company?”

“Unfortunately, the royal mountain cat keeper is fresh out of them.”

Merry’s eyes drifted shut, and Roden did his best not to think of the way her body relaxed as he continued supporting her. “Why not come to the Dragon’s Keep? It’s the slowest day of the week, I can help you. I can even promise extra lemon cream tarts.”

“Would I have to share?”

“With me, of course.”

“Promises you’ll make sure it’s a fair share?”

Merry pressed a bruised hand to her heart, “I never lie, Captain Harlowe.”

He hoped she didn’t see his ears beginning to burn. Roden managed to clear away the drying blood on Merry’s face, and ordered the nearest page to get strips of gauze. “I, ah, I’m going to make sure the wound doesn’t bleed through. Is that alright?”

“I only ask that you make me look as much like a plague victim as possible,” Merry was fiddling with her hands.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

To his surprise, when Roden drew away from Merry’s face, she pressed his hand back into place. “No wait, I’m hoping I can siphon away your extreme battle abilities.”

“Not quite sure how true that is.”

“I told you before, I don’t lie.”

“Not quite sure how true that is either.”

Once again, her face flushed bright red. Merry shoved his hand away, “Thanks, ah, uh, thanks for helping me.”

“It’s only fair.” Roden scratched the back of his neck.The page returned with a small roll of gauze. Roden began setting strips of it on the horizontal gash on Merry’s forehead. “You should probably come up with a story about why you look like a plague victim.”

“I’m thinking that I had three eyes at one point, but I tragically lost my third eye while hunting for a golden potato.”

“Not quite what I was expecting, but I’ll take it. Is there more to it?”

“Do you like hearing me talk, Captain?”

“I’ve told you it’s alright to call me by my name,” Roden said, deftly avoiding her question.

She patted the side of his face, “Captain, my friend, at one point I had a third eye, and it helped me see into the ground. I could find all sorts of buried treasure, making me the most valued person in the Eranbole sea. . .”

Words of third eyes and buried treasure fell short on Roden’s ears. As Merry continued weaving her grand story about pirates and sea monsters, his gaze fell on a curious mark on her bare shoulder.

A jagged scar.

As he finished setting the last piece of gauze on Merry’s cut, he found himself brushing his thumb over the scar, wondering where it came from.

Scars carried stories, whether good or bad.

What had Merry done to get a scar on her shoulder? There were others near it, many of them were hiding underneath her printed chemise. Marks of the past. All pale and pink against her skin.

Merry went completely silent, and Roden flinched once he realized what he’d done.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

Devils have him. Roden looked right at Merry’s crimson face, stared right at those mausoleum grey eyes.

Don’t be the first to look away, don’t be the first to look away-

Suddenly the cobblestones became very interesting.

“I, ah, I’m-,” she stuttered, both of her hands going to tug on her earlobes.

Roden all but jumped to his feet, “I have to go now.”

“I don’t think so, I’m not quite finished with our conversation.”

Roden rubbed the back of his neck, desperate to be away from his mistake.

But he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

“Treat me like a princess, Roden, please,” Merry said, bouncing back from the awkward moment. She held out her hand, palm down, expectant.

A series of scars were visible on her third and fourth fingers, just below the nails. Roden forced himself not to look too long, and took Merry by the hand, “My apologies, lady.”

In a grand motion, Merry waved her hand across the open air, “No apologies are needed sir knight. You’ll find I am quite spotted all over, and not from freckles.”

“I’m really sorry if-,” He began, but Merry was one step ahead of him.

“No, no, don’t be sorry, it’s really alright. I got that scar as a child. My favorite method of travel was jumping rock to rock, and I missed my target once.”

“I’m sure all toads everywhere envied your skill.”

“Oh they did, trust me, they did. I’d ah, I’d tell you more . . But you’ll have to forgive me for leaving so soon, Dawn’s going to have my head if I’m late.”

He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t like watching her leave.

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

Nila sat on his desk, swinging her legs. Her long golden hair had been pinned on her head, and yet despite the obvious effort that had been put into it, several strands had managed to escape. Dirt stains pooled at her elbows.

She was doing a wondrous job holding a stack of papers for Roden.

“I found a cool feather today, but I dropped it in the river,” Nila mused, a slight frown appearing on her rosy face. “It had stripes.”

“A striped feather, you say?” Roden made a face.

“Black and white, I thought it would look cool as a mast for a stick ship, but I got so excited about it, I dropped it.”

“Then I’ll have to help you find another one.”

Nila tapped her boot heel against the desk, “I’m free on every second day of the week, but only in the afternoons. I can fit you into my schedule.”

“You have a schedule now, do you?” He caught himself chuckling. “I would gladly take any available time that I can.”

Everywhere, there were reports hiding. Roden managed to gather all of Mott’s reports, but unfortunately, had managed to lose track of half of his own. He pawed through every drawer he could, every shelf and cabinet.

If it weren’t for Nila keeping track of what had been found and what hadn’t, he would’ve wasted much more time.

How could he let himself get so disorganized?

Roden ran his hands through his hair, “I think that’s all we’re going to find.”

“I can take a turn looking,” Nila offered. She grinned, a pair of dimples making their appearance. “You’ve obviously got something else on your mind.”

“I don’t- I, ah, everything’s under control.”

Although everything didn’t really feel like it was under control. Roden once again ran his hands through his hair, thinking of anything he might’ve missed. Several hours had passed since he’d last seen Merry. It wouldn’t be long before sunset.

“Are you meeting somebody?” Asked Nila, her boot beating out a new rhythm. “Are you going on patrol again?”

“No, no,” Roden said, walking from his desk to the door. “I mean, yes, I’m going to be with a friend of mine. No patrolling for me though, that’s tomorrow night.”

“That’s interesting. Much more interesting than my evening, anyway.”

“I thought you had a busy schedule, sounds pretty exciting to me.”

“Being busy doesn’t mean I’m having fun. Where are you going?”

“Sounds like you’re planning on trying to come with me. . .”

Nila frowned as deeply as she could. “I’m just asking!”

As he paced back and forth, Roden smiled. He was walking to the beat of Nila’s boot hitting the desk. That drew a grin out of her once he mentioned it to her.

He loved being with Nila. She was charming and bursting with life, and made his day a little bit brighter. In time, he saw her as more of a little sister than a niece.

There were many things Roden would always regret.

Things like never knowing his dead brother; Nila’s father.

Too many opportunities had been lost, and Roden was determined not to lose any more precious moments. He’d been cheated out of years and years of memories.

It was time to make new ones.

But he wasn’t sure if taking a ten year old girl to a tavern was one of them.

“Please, please, please, please, please take me with you,” Nila begged. “I don’t want to have to take tea with Lady Orlaine’s whatever they are.”

“Lady Orlaine’s wards?” Roden offered.

“Yes! Them! They’re mean to me, dreadfully boring too. I call them the Greys. Because they make everything grey around them, get it?”

Roden took the numerous papers from Nila and shoved them into a satchel. He’d have to depend on Merry for ink, he didn’t trust himself not to spill any as he walked across Drylliad.

He wouldn’t be able to know if the Dragon’s Keep was truly empty until he got there, and he’d rather not risk taking Nila to a place not quite appropriate for a child.

She took the rejection well, however, Roden wished he’d been able to bring her with him.

The regret was even worse the moment Roden stepped into the Dragon's Keep, only to find that it was as empty as Merry claimed it was.

Aside from the old man strumming a lute in the corner, the only sound was a ghost of a conversation from the back.

Dawn was behind the counter, her grey streaked hair piled into a bun on top of her head.

Another barmaid was sitting in the corner beside a young man. No sign of Merry.

"Captain! It's nice to see you!" Dawn called, waving her cloth in greeting.

"It's nice to be here," Roden countered with a smile.

She turned around, and retrieved a large tankard, "Are you looking for a drink?"

"Oh! No, no, I'm looking for a person, actually. It's Merry, actually, she wanted to talk."

"I'm sure she did, I'm sure she did. Merry! It's rude to keep a guest waiting!"

The conversation grew louder, louder, louder, until finally, Merry came strutting out. She’d changed her chemise, this one was green and hid her scarred shoulder. A patterned scarf rested neatly over her hair and behind her ears.

She pointed at the mass of gauze on her head, “Still in one piece!”

“I’m not surprised, you can hold your own,” Roden grinned. Now comfortable, he set his paper filled satchel on the wooden countertop, and perched on a tall stool.

“You should see her fight a door, it’s quite frightening,” teased Dawn.

“They are the bane of my existence.” Merry stared hard at the front door, and shook her fist at it before bursting into a series of snickers.

“A truly noble quest.”

Merry snatched a used tankard, and began scrubbing at the insides. Her smile faltered, “How’s Jamie Todd?”

“He’s alright, just a little concerned that he was caught throwing stones at a person.”

“Good, that’s good. You sure he’s fine?”

“Saw him myself a few hours ago,” Roden said. He retrieved a few reports, and set them on the counter. “Do you have-?”

“Ink? Right here,” Merry reached below the counter. “And we have a variety of writing tools to choose from too.”

“Don’t use the quill!” Dawn ordered from the other end of the bar. The door opened and closed. “Take care of that guest!”

The glass Merry had been scrubbing at clinked against the counter. Her brows screwed together, “I’ll take care of it.”

“What are you-,” Roden began, but Merry snapped her fingers near his face. He brushed her hands away, “I know, I know, I need to get my work done.”

“I’ll check back in on you in a moment, have that other guest to see,” Merry leaned over the bar, and smoothed her hand over Roden’s head.

He glared at the first report waiting to be finished. Check the details. Signature here, signature there. Next report. Check the details. Signature here, signature there, and so on and so forth. He caught a few snippets from Merry’s conversation with the new guest.

Something about lemon cream tarts.

Saints, he really wanted one of-

No! He had to do a report first!

Report first, tart later!

Merry set a hand on his shoulder, “Your handwriting.”

“I know, I know, it’s messy,” Roden shrugged.

“I was going to say that I like it, sir knight.”

Oh.

She disappeared behind the bar, reappearing moments later with a lemon cream tart in each hand. Roden received his first, much to his delight, and technically, he did manage to finish two reports.

He deserved a tart.

“-I completely understand! Court life is horrifically boring,” Merry said, her voice barely audible above the lute strings.

“I’m glad somebody gets it!” Chirped the guest, their voice oddly familiar.

But not familiar enough to draw his attention away from his blasted reports.

The lemon cream tart made it easier to bear.

Snippets of the conversation still drifted into Roden’s atmosphere. Merry laughed, “And is there anything else I can get you?”

“No thank you, but I do appreciate that you asked me,” came the reply.

And then Merry’s hand was back on his shoulder, asking him if there was anything she could do to help. Unless she was good at forgery, there wasn’t much she could do.

Roden scribbled through report after report, firmly aware that Merry was watching his every move.

He managed to finish the tart just as he finished his first pile of reports.

“And onto the next one,” Roden mumbled.

“Ah, ah, ah, take a tiny break, Captain,” Merry chided. She set her hands on Roden’s, “One stack is worth a victory celebration.”

“Do I get another tart?”

“Possibly, unless you’d prefer a pie.”

Pies were good, when baked properly.

Merry’s hands were cool on his palms.

Cool on his battle torn hands.

They fit too well in his own. A little too nicely. It was impossible to timidly turn his palms up, impossible not to hold Merry’s rough fingers.

He supposed he preferred that to a tart.

And a pie.

“Why are you holding hands with him?” Asked the other guest from right behind Roden.

He jumped, his eyes flying to the voice’s owner.

Only to find Nila with a little bit of lemon cream still on her top lip.

“Oh, uh, because-,” Merry stuttered, however, Roden had a better prepared retort.

“What are you doing here?”

Nila shrugged, “I was bored, so I followed you.”

“And you saw her come in, but didn’t tell me?” Roden asked, turning his attention to Merry.

She made a face, and clasped her hands behind her back. “I only did what I was told.”

“I wanted to surprise you, mostly so I could prove that it’s perfectly acceptable for me to go with you to things,” Nila pointed out. She clambered onto the stool beside Roden. “And I’m very helpful. I can read through your reports. All you’d have to do is sign.”

“Doesn’t mean you’d understand what’s going on,” noted Roden.

“That’s not important, all that matters is that everything is spelled correctly.”

Merry nodded, “She does have a point.”

A smile spread across his face, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t be rid of it, but he did manage to contain it to a slight smirk.

He handed a stack of papers to Nila.

Every so often, Roden glanced up to make sure Merry was still near, and watched as she cleaned tankard after tankard.

She beamed at him each time she caught him looking.

And all he could think about was the way her cool hands felt when they rested on his own.

#roden #ocs #prince jaron #fic friday #fic Friday except its a thursday #this #was literally #too fun #shamelessly fluffy #also nila is absolutely the best #I love her #shes a chaotic blonde child #wait #nila = cosette from les mis confirmed #the ascendance series #the ascendance trilogy #the false prince

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cupcakemolotov · 5 years ago

Text

Scatter the Die

I was originally just going to reblog my old post but I couldn’t find it and I decided that I couldn’t be bothered to keep digging for it. I decided to pull a lalainajanes and update/edit/re-post a thing to see if it will get me off my ass to finish the sequel. Also, I apologize, because I’m pretty sure I’ve changed the title of this thing twice now so oops.

You can find it here on A03 if you prefer.

Caroline shivered beneath the blankets she'd been tucked into, thankful that the bone jarring shakes were finally easing. One of the disapproving medics had surprised her clothing change and trussed her up like a thanksgiving turkey, but she’d been cleared from taking a ride to the hospital. A warming IV did not sound like a fun way to spend the rest of her day, and the last thing she’d have expected was to brush off her was hypothermia training in New Orleans of all places.

Magic had changed a lot of things over the decades, but the last few years had been particularly difficult. The veil was thinning and monsters sometimes wore human faces. Humanity sat poised on another apocalyptic event, and they fought it one case at a time.

Today wasn’t likely her last brush with death.

But her own state of well being wasn’t her highest priority. All around her cops and feds scrambled to collect evidence, trash bags and waiters being handed as they worked against the clock. The evidence was disappearing with the muddy rain, and once gone, they’d have no chance to collect it.

They owed the dead cops more than that.

Mouth tightening, Caroline watched the other ambulance pull out, it’s lights flashing as it’s wheels hit pavement. To lose a rookie on his first day in Homicide would be a kick in the gut for the department that was already reeling from two deaths. She could only hope he pulled through.

Goddammit.

Two weeks ago, what should have been an open and shut suicide had turned into a horror movie gone bad. What lived behind the veil was hungry and angry. Assuming her department was allowed to keep so much as a paper lip attached to the files of this one, explaining the deaths to the grieving families wouldn’t be easy. There was no right when nightmares gorged.

Oh, the Feds would make all the right noises at there having been a cop-killing Fae running loose and offer little else. It was why she’d taken to making two set of notes. So that when her case file disappeared she’d still have her back up files. But in this case, even if the Feds did make an evidence grab, at least they knew the murderer was dead.

She’d seen to that much.

"Detective?"

Caroline bit the side of her cheek at the familiar voice, glancing over to find Special Agent Mikaelson walking towards her. In his hands was a steaming takeout cup, and his jaw was set at an angle so rigid she wondered how he hadn’t cracked teeth. He wasn't wearing a coat in respect to the drizzle, and his curls looked riotous. For a moment they stared at each other before he offered her the cup.

Wary, she wiggled a hand free, and was amused to discover it was hot chocolate. Taking a careful sip, she tipped her head. "Agent?”

He leaned against the side of the ambulance with eyes that were once again dark with things she'd no intention of reading. "I've been told to keep this short."

"Elena can be fierce," Caroline murmured as she glanced over at the brunette EMT who was assessing another injury. "But she means well."

"Friends?"

She shrugged. "It never hurts to make them."

A quirk of his lips at the slight accusation in her voice. He didn't look at all bothered by her jab. She might have admired his thick skin, but it honestly just made her want to punch him in his perfect teeth.

"I owe you an apology."

She paused, the drink inches from her mouth and studied the lines of his face, both brows arching. "For what exactly? I have a list, if that’d be helpful.”

A hint of a dimple before he slipped one hand into his pocket, face sobering. "You make a habit to carry cold iron with you, Detective?"

The knife was an old safety blanket, born from teenage years spent knowing that a fae nightmare had killed her mother. Years later, the truth might have freed that particular fae from its fate, but Caroline had stopped feeling comfortable without cold iron around her.

Special Agent Mikaelson from the FBI Department of Weird didn't need to know that.

"My captain encourages police officers to carry iron, Agent. Shall I dig out my handbook?"

A flicker of something bright slipped along his pupil, and Caroline tilted her head, gaze narrowing. She knew what magic looked like. Until that moment, she'd have sworn Mikaelson was human. A complete ass, but human. Now, she wasn't so sure.

"That knife wasn't department issued," Mikaelson said with a hint of a blade in his voice.

"I'm sorry," Caroline said serenely after she took a slow sip of her drink. It was really good hot chocolate. She wondered where he'd gotten it. "Where exactly is this apology?"

His eyes were calculating, as he studied her. Those disgustingly long lashes lowered to hide his gaze, and when they lifted, his pupils were golden. The blue of his iris had narrowed to a thin band, and the color had changed to something several shades brighter. It was like looking at the heart of a star.

But other than those eyes, he somehow managed to appear completely human.

Her mouth ran dry.

"We underestimated her," Klaus said and the crisp tones of his accent had sharpened a hair. "Fortunately, it appears that you were also underestimated, and that was a lucky break. My sincere apologies, Detective Forbes, that you were pulled into a situation you shouldn't have had to deal with."

Something about his tone irritated her, and she concentrated on that instead of how she could almost feel his words on her skin. Taking a careful, deliberate sip of her drink, Caroline forced herself to hold his gaze.

"I'm a cop," she said bluntly. She didn't back down from his gaze, even when the tilting of his head wasn't quite… right. "It's my job to deal with the unexpected. How long have you know what we were hunting was a she and what it could do, Agent?"

He long had he known that this… woman could drown someone when they were standing between four walls? Caroline was certain she'd dream of screaming, the saltwater scent and the taste of brine in her mouth. The monster who'd had no face that Caroline could describe with words, she'd had no interest in another woman. The rage, the worst of the water had been used to attack the men who'd stood around her as they'd examined the scene. Surprise had been the only reason Caroline had won, surprise and an old, old habit.

Watching the life go out of a nightmare was no easier than watching a human die.

Those glittering eyes studied her. "I'm afraid that's classified."

"Is it now," Caroline said slowly, a hint of drawl elongating her vowels.

"You're a bit of an enigma, Detective," Mikaelson said, the calculation in his gaze turning to iron she recognized. "Your mother murdered; yet, you worked to clear her supposed murderer's name. You’ve filed a number of complaints with the local bureau when they couldn't produce information on a number of supernatural killers."

"Families deserve the truth," she said stiffly. "They also deserve to know what justice has been given. It's not that difficult a concept."

"Sometimes, truth isn't the right answer."

Caroline tossed the last of the hot chocolate on the ground and stood, unwrapping herself from the blankets. The oversized clothing was a little ridiculous and her hair was a tangled mess scraped into a wet bun, but right then she couldn't care. Pasting on a fake smile, she hoisted the ends of her pants so she wouldn't trip. "Yeah, well, in that case, why don't you shove that apology up your ass."

His brow arched. She didn't like how much taller her was than her when he straightened, and she lifted her chin to scowl when he stepped into her space. "Regardless, the bureau will extend its apologies to you and your precinct."

Her teeth ground together. "So that's it?"

"The case is closed."

"Oh yeah? Care to tell me what the motive was exactly?" Caroline asked. “Or why she picked men. Cops. People I worked with.”

"I'm afraid that's classified as well," Mikaelson said.

"Donovan has a daughter," she said carefully. “They all had families.”

Those burning eyes softened a hair. "The loss of any life is always a regret."

Caroline showed him the edge of her teeth. "And this mythical apology of yours. Will it include using cops as bait?"

The smile wiped from his face and his chin lowered, so they were nearly eye to eye. It struck her again, how pretty he was, with his scruffy jaw and burning eyes. His magic should have frightened her, but all it did was piss her off. He'd had this magic and she'd almost drowned.

He was such a dick.

"Is that what you believe happened?"

Of course that was what happened. Mikaelson was obviously not human, and Caroline had seen this kind of maneuvering before, when her mother had been killed. Had seen good and honest men, used as easily discarded chess pieces. She wasn't stupid and she resented that he thought she was but this was also not a battle she could win. Not today. But maybe tomorrow.

So instead of picking the fight she really wanted, she shrugged. “Are you saying you weren't using us?”

"Be very careful, Forbes," Mikaelson warned, gaze tracking a curl as it tumbled across her cheek, the wild colors in his gaze shifted like tectonic plates. "There are things in this world you don't want to engage."

Caroline wasn't sure if he referencing himself or whatever had happened to fellow cops. Not that it mattered. When had she ever let something stop her from getting answers for the families who'd had a loved one stolen? Knowing that a killer was dead meant nothing if you couldn't grasp why.

She knew that sometimes there was no good answer. This wasn't one of those times. Still, she'd no reason to tell Special Agent Klaus Mikaelson that, did she?

"I'm just a murder cop."

Mikaelson laughed. Deep and rich, dimples flashing, he watched her as the gold and wild blue faded from his eyes. "It'd be easier if you were, Forbes."

It was on the tip of her tongue, to ask him what he was. What caused eyes to shift to molten heat that way, while the rest of them remained normal. What kind of power did he have? But she sensed a trap there, saw him waiting and refused to give him the satisfaction.

Bonnie might know, anyway.

"Apparently your case is closed," Caroline said with sugary sweetness as she shifted to walk away. "So, here's to hoping I never see you again."

"I don't believe it will be quite that simple, Detective," Mikaelson said softly, voice laced with warning as she moved towards the squad cars.

She rather thought it was.

Three days later, when her Captain brought up that the FBI were digging through her old cases, she was irritated. When the official letter offering her a both an apology as well as position showed up, she dug up the card that had been left on her desk and the number she refused to input into her phone. She never replied to the Bureau directly, but she did send a single text with a picture of a letter on fire.

The response had left her grinding her teeth.

Some things are inevitable, love.

#my fic #repost #i know i know #but I'm 8k into the sequel #and i need to finish it #for the love of fic #ive ben working on it for ages

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skyfireflight · 5 years ago

Text

The Dragon Prince: A (Speculative) Timeline

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

This a timeline I've compiled from the show, information from the creators, and my own speculations. Also from this post by @mimosaeyes and this post by @solitae

Things here may be debunked once we have new information.

Suggestions for edits are welcome!

(And honestly, there's probably going to be a bunch of typos.)

Part of this is under a read more, because it's long.

Timeline:

5,000 years ago

1. The first elves appeared; at this time, they are not differentiated by primal sources

2. Dragons and elves are not united

3. Humans were struggling and suffered from starvation

2,000 years ago

1. The Rise of Elarion

Presumably when the City of Elarion was founded; still possible that it was named after a person.

2. Humanity found their way to magic; this allowed their civilization to begin to thrive

Presumably when Aaravos gifted magic/dark magic to humans.

1,200 years ago

1. The Era of Sol Regem, the first king of the dragons

2. The adventures of Sir Phineas Cursed; travelled together with Delilah Giehl, who became the youngest known university professor at the age of twelve

3. Dark magic has become a problem, with mass poaching of magical creatures

4. The confrontation between the human dark mage Ziard and Sol Regem

Sol Regem gives the ultimatum of either humans giving up dark magic, which humans thought of as what allowed them to live and thrive, or the destruction of the City of Elarion, which was home to hundreds of thousands of people; also calls humans lesser beings.

Ziard refuses to give up dark magic, and shows horried disbelief at the ultimatum. Sol Regem goes to destroy the City of Elarion. Ziard uses dark magic to absorb fire birds in order to try to stop Sol Regem and defend the City of Elarion; Sol Regem sees this and flies back to Ziard. Ziard throws a dark magic fireball at Sol Regem; Sol Regem breathes fire at Ziard. Sol Regem is blinded; Ziard is killed.

Between 1,200 - 1,000 years ago

1. Sol Regem is no longer the king of the dragons

2. Dragons and elves unite

3. The war between dragons/elves and humans begins

Moonshadow elves, Sunfire elves, and Skywing elves are shown to have fought. Whether Earthblood elves or Ocean Primal elves fought is unknown, though some speculate they did not.

Aaravos is also shown on the battlefield, but whether he participated or simply watched (possibly by astral projection) is unclear. It is speculated/assumed that other Startouch elves did not participate.

1,000 years ago

1. The Era of Luna Tenebris, queen of the dragons and the second known dragon monarch

2. The Judgement of the Half Moon

The humans lose the war against the elves and the dragons. Luna Tenebris orders humans to be exiled. All humans are driven out of Eastern Xadia, similar to the real-world Trail of Tears. Sunfire elves and Moonshadow elves are shown to have participated. Whether or not the other four elven races participated is unclear.

3. The Great Xadian Split

Xadia is divided in two. Powerful elven mages create a physical barrier, a river of lava, to keep humans from re-entering Eastern Xadia.

Between 1,000 - 300 years ago

1. The Mage Wars

On the human side of Xadia, powerful human mages become warlords who fight for power. This continues for a long time, and is an era in which Western Xadia is violent and war-torn.

300 years ago

1. The Era of Avizandum, king of the dragons and the third known dragon monarch; married to Zubeia, queen of the dragons. He is known to the humans as "Thunder," and guards the Western/Eastern Xadian border

2. The Orphan Queen, the first queen of Katolis, ancestor of Harrow and Ezran

The Mage Wars end and the human kingdom of Katolis is founded, presumably by the Orphan Queen.

It is assumed that she found her way to Xadia and somehow met/encountered Aaravos, by which she gained the Key of Aaravos and took it back to Katolis. The Key of Aaravos has since been passed down through the royal family of Katolis.

The Orphan Queen's true name, as of now, is unknown.

3. The Fallen Star, assumed/speculated to be Aaravos, the Startouch Archmage.

This is possibly when Avizandum discovers Aaravos's involvement with humans. Aaravos is imprisoned.

4. A spell is cast so that all text that humans have on Aaravos is unreadable

Between 300 - 100 years ago

1. The other four human kingdoms, Del Bar, Evenere, Neolandia, and Duren are founded

2. Western Xadia is now called the Human Kingdoms, or the Pentarchy; Eastern Xadia is simply referred to as "Xadia"

3. Unnamed Battle between Katolis and Xadia

It was assumed that the battle shown in the intro in the very first episode was when King Harrow of Katolis killed Avizandum in revenge for the death of his wife, Queen Sarai of Katolis. However, season 3 has revealed that this is not the case.

This battle took place sometime after Katolis was founded. Katolis's banners show the symbol for the queen's crown, so I speculate that Katolis was ruled by a queen, not a king, at this time. Whether this queen is the Orphan Queen, or one of her later descendants, is unknown.

Avizandum, Moonshadow elves, Skywing elves, and Sunfire elves are shown to have participated. Whether Earthblood elves or Ocean Primal elves participated is unknown.

Sunfire Queen Aditi, grandmother to Janai and Sunfire Queen Khessa, is also shown to have fought in this battle. Her fate is unknown, though it is speculated to have something to do with humans.

Though elven lifespans vary by race, they live about as long as humans, with the exception of the Startouch elves. While the battle could have taken place closer to 300 years ago, around the time Katolis was founded, it is unlikely that Queen Aditi was alive at this time. I speculate that it is more likely for this to have occurred closer to about 100 years ago. However, if this battle did take place 300 years ago when Katolis was founded, it is possible that Aaravos was involved, which could be how he knows what happened to Queen Aditi; his involvement could also have been a factor in why he was imprisoned.

The specifics as to why this battle occurred, or whether it was one battle or part of a longer war, is unknown.

18 years ago

1. Soren is born on January 19th

17 years ago

1. Claudia was born on June 16th*

16 years ago

1. A famine begins in Duren

2. Rayla is born on July 31st

15 years ago

1. Callum is born on July 15th

15 - 11 years ago

1. Sarai, Callum's mother, marries Harrow, crown prince of Katolis

11 years ago

1. Aanya is born on June 22nd

10 years ago

1. Ezran is born on March 19th

9 years ago

1. Harrow's father, king of Katolis, dies

2. Harrow and Sarai are crowned king and queen of Katolis

3. Queens Neha and Annika of Duren ask King Harrow of Katolis for aid; 100,000 of their people risk death from starvation that coming winter

Harrow agrees, promising half of Katolis' food. However, he barely has enough food for his own people; this would mean 50,000 people in each kingdom would die.

On a discovery made by High Mage Lord Viren, he, Harrow, Sarai, the queens of Duren, and some soldiers go to Xadia and kill a magma titan to use its heart in a spell that will warm the land and provide food to save their people.

However, before they can return over the border, Avizandum finds and attacks them.

4. Queen Neha and Queen Annika are killed by Avizandum

5. Queen Sarai is killed by Avizandum

6. The famine in Duren ends; 100,000 people are saved.

7. Aanya becomes queen of Duren

8. The egg of the Dragon Prince, Azymondias (also known as Zym) may have been laid sometime this year

9. Rayla's parents may have joined the Dragon Guard sometime this year, after the egg was laid

4 or 5 months ago

(note: Runaan says that "four full moons passed" since the king of the dragons was killed; whether or not he is counting the current full moon is unclear.)

1. Harrow kills Avizandum to in revenge for Sarai's death

Harrow drives Sarai’s spear, which was enchanted by dark magic as a weapon of revenge, into Avizandum’s heart. Avizandum turns to stone.

2. Viren infiltrates the dragon monarchs' lair, taking Aaravos's mirror and kidnapping the Dragon Prince egg

Zubeia is not present. While the rest of the Dragon Guard flee, Rayla's parents stay and fight Viren. Rayla's parents are restrained in magical blocks of ice.

Viren intends to destroy the egg, to prevent the new dragon from being a future threat. Rayla's mother convinces Viren to keep the egg alive.

Afterwards, the elves and dragons believe that Rayla's parents fled with the rest of the Dragon Guard, and that Dragon Prince egg was destroyed.

3. Rayla's parents are trapped in coins by Viren through dark magic

4. The Era of Avizandum ends

5. A new era, that will be later known as The Return of Aaravos, begins

Between 4 months ago - Now

1. Soren becomes the youngest crownguard of Katolis

Now (0 days)

1. Sent by Zubeia to kill Harrow and Ezran in revenge, six Moonshadow elf assassins arrive in Katolis

They are discovered by the guard Marcos. Rayla is sent to kill him, but spares him. This allows King Harrow and his guards to prepare for the coming attack; Harrow sends Callum and Ezran away to the Banther Lodge. Runaan calls Rayla off the mission.

2. Rayla infiltrates Katolis' castle to kill Harrow and Ezran and rectify her mistake

3. Ezran, Callum, and Rayla find the stolen Dragon Prince egg

Rayla asks Runaan to call off the mission, and the princes show him the Dragon Prince egg. Runaan refuses; Rayla fights Runaan to stall him.

4. Ezran, Callum, Rayla, and Bait begin the journey to take the egg of Dragon Prince back to Zubeia in Xadia, in order to try to stop the war and bring peace between Xadia and the Human Kingdoms

5. Runaan kills Harrow

6. Runaan is captured, and Viren imprisons him in his secret dungeon

1 day later (one day)

1. Callum gets the Key of Aaravos

Rayla goes to the Banther Lodge to get the "glow cube," but is found by General Amaya, the princes' aunt. Callum lies to get her to let Rayla go, but it backfires, and the children flee.

1 day later (two days)

1. Viren sends his children, Soren and Claudia, to search for Callum, Ezran, and the Dragon Prince egg; he imprisons Commander Gren in his secret dungeon

Unbeknownst to Claudia, Viren indirectly tells Soren to kill the princes.

Unbeknownst to Soren, Viren tells Claudia to choose the Dragon Prince egg over Soren if necessary.

2 days later (four days)

1. The gang, along with Ellis and Ava, climb the Cursed Caldera; they meet Lujanne, a Moonshadow elf mage

2. The Dragon Prince, Azymondias, is hatched

3. Runaan is trapped in a coin by Viren through dark magic

3 days later (one week)

1. Claudia and Soren find the gang at the Moon Nexus

2. Amaya fights Sunfire elves, and Sunfire knight Janai for the first time, at the Breach

1 day later (eight days)

1. Callum finds out about Harrow's, his stepfather's, death

2. Claudia and Soren's betrayal; the gang leaves the Moon Nexus

3. Corvus is captured on the Moon Nexus by Soren and Claudia

4. Viren sees Aaravos through the mirror for the first time

2 days later (ten days)

1. The gang meet Villads, who sails them across the small sea

2. Sunfire elves and Sunfire Knight Janai take over Katolis's fortress on the Xadian side of the Breach

1 day later (eleven days)

1. Callum reads Harrow's letter and learns about the Key of Aaravos

2. Viren meets with the monarchs of the four other Human Kingdoms to convince them to unite against Xadia; they refuse

3. Zubeia falls into a grief-induced coma

2 days later (thirteen days)

1. Pyrrha attacks a Katolis town

A sun dragon, Pyrrha, flies over a Katolis town. Soren and Claudia shoot at her, but miss. In retaliation instead of just understanding how scary she was and flying away, she sets fire to the town. Claudia and Soren shoot her down and chain her.

2. Callum uses dark magic for the first time

Rayla goes to help the dragon. Callum goes after her, and saves Rayla and unchains the dragon by using dark magic. Callum falls unconscious soon after

3. Soren gets severely injured by the dragon; his spine is broken, and he is paralyzed

4. Viren makes a magical bond with Aaravos

1 day later (two weeks)

1. Corvus finds the gang

2. Ezran learns that Harrow, his father, is dead

3. Ezran and Claudia reconcile and have a heart to heart

4. Callum learns the sky arcanum and gains sky magic

5. Claudia kills a deer to heal Soren through dark magic

6. Ezran decides to go back home with Corvus, to take his place as king

7. Claudia and Soren begin their way back to the castle

8. Viren sends out shadow assassins to the other four human kingdoms, at Aaravos's advice

9. Viren is arrested on charges of treason

10. Gren is found and freed from Viren's dungeon

1 day later (fifteen days)

1. Rayla, Callum, and Zym arrive in Xadia

The three are confronted by Sol Regem, who the gang cleverly trick and entrap in order to get past him into Xadia without getting killed.

2. Amaya and Gren reunite at the Breach

3. The Breach is sealed

The Standing Battalion of Katolis set off explosives along the Breach, caving in the stone and sealing the path with an impassable flow of lava.

4. Amaya is captured by Sunfire elves

5. Ezran is crowned king

1 day later (sixteen days)

1. Soren and Claudia are arrested for treason; Ezran releases them

2. Soren and Claudia speak to Viren; at Aaravos's advice, Viren lies about telling Soren to kill the princes

3. Janai interrogates Amaya

4. The Sunfire Queen Khessa puts Amaya through the Trial of Light; Amaya is found to be pure of heart and is allowed to live

5. Rayla and Callum arrive at Rayla's home, the Silvergrove; they discover Rayla's been banished, and meet Ethari

When the other Moonshadow assassins died, but Rayla lived, the Moonshadow elves of Silvergrove assumed that she abandoned them. Rayla and Callum speak to Ethari about what really happened and their plan to return Zym to Zubeia. Ethari reveals that Zubeia is dying, and gives them animal mounts to ride. Ethari then sends a message to Zubeia.

1 day later (seventeen days)

1. Nyx intercepts Ethari's message

2. Prince Kasef gives Ezran an ultimatum; either Katolis joins the fight against Xadia, or the armies of 3 kingdoms, Neolandia, Evenere, and Del Bar, will attack Katolis the next day at dawn

3. Rayla and Callum meet Nyx; they agree to ride on her ambler across the Midnight Desert

4. Ezran is tricked by Councilman Saleer into abdicating and releasing Viren so the 3 armies won't attack Katolis; Ezran gives Bait to Barius the Baker for safe keeping, and is put in prison

5. Rayla kisses Callum

6. Nyx kidnaps Zym; Rayla and Callum go after them

7. Callum's mount, Runaan's moonstrider, is killed by soulfangs

1 day later (eighteen days)

1. Viren declares himself king of Katolis

2. Soren sneaks Ezran and Bait out of the castle; Ezran and Bait head to Xadia on Phoe-Phoe the moon phoenix

3. Opeli, Corvus, and Barius leave Katolis to seek help from the kingdom of Duren

4. Viren declares war on Xadia

5. Marcos, and some other soldiers, refuse to fight; they are marked by a "broken link" insignia

6. Lujanne disguises herself as a human and goes to interact with human townspeople

7. Rayla and Callum rescue Zym; Rayla saves Nyx from soulfang serpents

8. Callum and Rayla share their first mutual kiss

1 day later (nineteen days)

1. Rayla, Callum, and Zym arrive at the Storm Spire, the royal sky dragons' lair

2. Ezran and Bait arrive in Xadia and reunite with Callum, Rayla, and Zym

3. Phoe-Phoe dies; Ezran keeps her feather so she can be reborn

4. The armies of Katolis, Del Bar, Evenere, and Neolandia cross the border into Xadia

5. Aaravos and Viren infiltrate Lux Aurea; the two corrupt the Sun Forge with dark magic, and Aaravos kills Sunfire Queen Khessa

6. Amaya is released from prison

7. With the stolen corrupted Sunfire staff, Viren changes the human soldiers into Dark Heat-being Mode

8. Soren leaves Viren and Claudia

9. The gang climbs to the top of the Storm Spire

Callum learns a new sky magic spell, Ezran learns about Rayla and Callum's relationship, the gang meets Ibis, and sees Zubeia and discover she is in a coma. Ezran tries to wake Zubeia, but to no avail.

10. Opeli, Corvus, and Barius meet with Aanya in Duren

1 day later (twenty days)

1. Soren arrives at the Storm Spire

2. Ibis scouts from the sky, and meets with Amaya and Janai

3. With the moon opal pendant that Rayla gave him, Callum uses a Moon spell to see the past; he and Rayla discover what really happened with Rayla's parents

4. Amaya and Janai arrive at the Storm Spire; Sunfire elf soldiers from Lux Aurea gather to defend Zubeia and Zym

1 day later (twenty-one days)

1. Viren's Dark Heat-being army arrive at the Storm Spire

2. The Battle at the Storm Spire

General Amaya, Soren, Janai, Callum, and Sunfire elf soldiers defend the base of the Storm Spire, while Rayla and Bait guard Zym and the dragon queen. Duren's army, led by Aanya, and Katolis's army of "deserters," led by Corvus, Gren, Opeli, and Barius, arrive as reinforcements. The Dark Heat-being army is subdued, and the elven and human allied forces win. Viren and Aaravos climb the Storm Spire and capture Zym, but are stopped by Rayla.

3. Callum learns the Mage Wing spell

To rescue Zym, Rayla tackles Viren off of the pinnacle of the Storm Spire. Callum jumps after her, and successfully casts the Mage Wing spell, catching Rayla and saving her life.

4. Viren dies

5. Zubeia wakes from her coma; she and Zym are reunited

6. Aaravos's caterpillar forms a cocoon

2 days later (twenty-three days)

1. Viren is resurrected by Claudia through dark magic

It is assumed she did so by killing a Dark Heat-being mode human soldier, but what other methods or ingredients she may have used are unknown.

* Depending on what day in May the current timeline started, Claudia might have turned 17 years old during season 3.

Total time of first 3 seasons: 24 days

#tdp #the dragon prince #tdp timeline #it took me two and a half weeks to finish this

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huberts-private-counsel-archive · 5 years ago

Note

can i request hcs for a guilty rarepair of mine? specifically angst headcanons for hubert/dimitri?

Anon, I do hope you realize what you’ve done here. You just asked me for angst for a ship...and did not give me any hard limits. And the last time that happened, Ferdibert got completely destroyed. Time to do the same to this ship I say, since you didn’t give me any limits :)

As for the route...let’s go with Verdant Wind, shall we?

Edit: putting this under a read more because this is like...almost 2k words dfjhsdjh i went OFF

Truth be told, the news of Dimitri’s execution hit Hubert much harder than he thought it would. After all, he had made the choice to abandon him in order to serve Lady Edelgard. No matter their relations at the Academy, Hubert thought he would’ve been able to shrug off his attachments easily. Yet when it was made public that Dimitri had been executed - for a crime Hubert knew he didn’t commit, no less - he still found himself mourning the prince. No, not just mourning. Grieving.

It was absolutely ridiculous, Hubert told himself each time he found himself thinking back to what had once been (and what could have been, had he chosen to stay with his heart than follow his duty). Yet time and time again, he’d find his thoughts caught on Dimitri before said thoughts sent him down a spiral of “what-ifs”.

And then came the battle at Grondor.

Admittedly, Hubert had felt his heart soaring when he realized that it truly was Dimitri across the field they had fought on five years ago. He couldn’t deny the ghost of a smile that wanted to appear on his face realizing Dimitri had survived. Of course, he chased it away before Lady Edelgard could see

Then he actually encountered Dimitri, and any levity that had been left in his heart completely vanished. Because even if the being before him looked and sounded like Dimitri, even shared his name...it just couldn’t be him.

The Dimitri of the Academy had been kind. Even if there had been blood staining his hands, even if there had been ghosts following him, he had at least been attempting to wash it off and keep pressing forward (unlike Hubert, who merely let his hands grow more and more stained, allowed more and more ghosts to join his ranks, anything for Lady Edelgard’s cause). The Dimitri of the Academy often had a soft smile on his face, his blue eyes somehow radiating warmth whenever he spoke. It was enough that Hubert had found himself being drawn in five years ago, a moment of weakness that Hubert was selfish enough to indulge himself in.

The Dimitri in front of him could not be the Dimitri he had known five years ago.

The Dimitri in front of him was missing an eye, the missing one covered by an eyepatch while the one remaining was an icy blue, missing all of the warmth of their school days. The Dimitri in front of him was drenched in blood, ghosts practically nipping at his heels. The Dimitri in front of him did not smile, a hate-filled snarl instead marring his face.

The Dimitri in front of him did not recognize who he was. All the Dimitri in front of him cared about was revenge.

Idly, Hubert wondered if he could have prevented Dimitri from falling to this fate. If, just if, he had chosen to remain by Dimitri’s side, could he have prevented Dimitri from falling so far? Kept him from being consumed by his ghosts until they were all that drove him?

He heard the call for them all to retreat. Perhaps he should have stayed closer to Lady Edelgard, but he had to see Dimitri - this is not Dimitri, his mind tried to remind him, but Hubert found himself ignoring it - for himself, perhaps try and convince him to stand down.

Instead, now he was the one retreating. The heavy armored steps behind him told him that Dimitri was following. No, no Dimitri was already injured as is, if he tried to follow, he would just get himself killed (and even if that would be better for Lady Edelgard’s cause, a stupidly selfish part of Hubert still wanted to save what was left of the man he had fallen in love with all those years ago).

So he stopped where he stood, whirling around to face Dimitri as the former prince (would he have been a king by now? Hubert can’t help but wonder) staggers up, Hero’s Relic clutched tightly in his hand.

“Wretched rat,” Dimitri (not Dimitri, not Dimitri, his mind continues to say, perhaps trying to save his heart any more pain) nearly growls out, “get out of my way. Unless you want me to tear the head from your shoulders as well?”

Hubert wasn’t sure if Dimitri truly didn’t recognize him, or if the hate clouding his thoughts had been enough to completely change his view of Hubert. He wasn’t sure which one he’d rather have be the truth.

“Dimitri, you’re injured. If you stand down and retreat, I will allow you to go with your life.” What was he doing? Hubert knew, knew he should be killing Dimitri now while he had the chance, but...

But Hubert was only human. And every human had a weakness. Hubert’s happened to go by the name of Dimitri. He prayed that Dimitri would listen to reason, that he would simply retreat and Hubert wouldn’t have to end the life of the man he loved (and still does, damn his pathetically weak heart).

Unfortunately, Dimitri didn’t. And he lunged towards Hubert, a roar erupting from his throat as he raised his Hero’s Relic and Hubert readied a spell, but he wasn’t even sure if he could cast it in time (that was a lie, Hubert knew perfectly well he had only gotten faster in spell-casting since their days at the Academy, he would be able to hit Dimitri before Dimitri could ever hit him)-

And suddenly Dimitri let out a gasp of pain, suddenly pausing in his charge as he winced. Hubert felt confused, until he saw the shaft of a lance sticking out of the back of Dimitri.

Ambush.

Considering he hadn’t been skewered through yet, while lances and arrows alike continued to pierce through Dimitri’s armor (not Dimitri, not Dimitri) as the man tried to keep himself standing by using his Relic, Hubert could only conclude that these were Imperial soldiers. His legs eventually buckled beneath him, and Dimitri fell to the floor.

There was a cold weight in Hubert’s stomach.

Imperial soldiers did come out of hiding, some cheering about having taken down Dimitri. One of them even pats Hubert on the shoulder, thanking him for being there as bait for him. Hubert barely feels himself nodding. His whole body feels numb, his mind a complete and utter storm.

Quietly, he hears himself tell the soldiers that he will take care of the body. And none of the soldiers are eager to stick around - not even a minute later, all of them are gone. Hubert approaches Dimitri’s - not Dimitri’s - body, intending to at least give him a proper burial, when suddenly he moves.

Hubert startles, his eye widening as Dimitri lifts his head up from the dirt, a heavy haze present in his gaze as he weakly calls out -

“H...Hubert...?”

Dimitri.

Hubert knelt down in the dirt beside him, carefully lifting Dimitri up so that they could face each other. Dimitri shouldn’t even be alive right now, it was impossible, no one could survive that many lances and arrows piercing their body (and Hubert knew he wouldn’t, he would succumb to them soon, sooner if Hubert tried to remove any of them). And yet Dimitri was staring at him, Hubert feeling something in his heart stir at the familiarity of his gaze.

The Dimitri from the Academy wasn’t gone after all.

“D-Dimitri, I-” Hubert wasn’t even sure what he had been about to say, maybe an apology or even questioning if it really is him when Dimitri began speaking again, effectively silencing him.

“I-I...I’m sorry..I couldn’t r-recognize..you..” Dimitri said quietly, and Hubert had to force down the hysterical laughter. Of course the first thing he said was an apology.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing, where’s your base, I-”

“H-Hubert...y-you of all p-people...should know...” a weak laugh came from Dimitri, one that pulled at Hubert’s heart and had him blinking back tears.

Hubert couldn’t find it in him to speak. A surprising amount of his effort was going into trying to keep his tears at bay.

“I-I’m...’m so s-sorry beloved...” and there it was, that damned pet name that Dimitri had used back at the Academy, the one that never failed to set Hubert’s heart on fire - not until now, where the only thing it did was weigh it down, “...that I-I have...have to l-leave you l-like this...”

Hubert opens his mouth, intending to tell Dimitri he is indeed a fool for allowing himself to die like this (and how Hubert was an even bigger fool for allowing this to happen). All that comes out is a choked sob.

“P-Please...” Hubert feels Dimitri’s hand raise up to his cheek, and Hubert can’t stop himself from clutching at it like a lifeline. Dimitri coughs, one wet with blood that Hubert wished he could erase from his mind as soon as he hears it. “P-Promise me...something..”

“What is it?”

“Don’t...don’t let me h-haunt you...y-you don’t...” Another cough. “You don’t d-deserve to b-be...be haunted, like t-this...”

“I...I promise.” The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, but the grateful smile Dimitri gives him only makes it more bitter.

“T-Thank you...I...love you...”

The words are almost whispered, then Dimitri is slumping against Hubert, finally going still. Hubert can only stare at where Dimitri had been just moments ago, before a hysterical sob claws its way out of his throat.

“I-I love you too, y-you fool,” he chokes out, but really, aren’t they both fools for letting this happen to them? And he stays there for as long as he dares, holding Dimitri’s rapidly cooling body before creating a makeshift grave, marking the grave with some stones and a wildflower before heading back to Lady Edelgard, trying not to think about the fact that Dimitri’s blood is now staining his hands as well.

(Later, when Hilda returns to Claude and the professor to report that Dimitri has died, she chooses to leave out the more private parts of their conversation. It was clearly a moment meant for the two of them to be alone, and she was intruding enough as it was. She did admit that Dimitri regained his mind in his final moments, but that was all she would say.)

Later, when Lady Edelgard asks about what took him so long, Hubert simply tells her that he had to take care of unfinished business, but the former king of Faerghus is dead and buried. He tries to ignore the sinking feeling when Lady Edelgard smiles and tells him that she’s grateful to him for what he’s done.

He goes to his office, trying to ignore how Dimitri's blood is staining his hands now. Trying to ignore how Dimitri has joined the legion of ghosts that haunt him, except his ghost is the loudest in its cries for justice and how could you.

Later, when he’s felled in Enbarr, he finds himself staring up at the sky. He almost wants to laugh. Perhaps - no, this is what he deserves for allowing Dimitri to die like he did. This is his karma. He closes his eye, choking on his own blood as he wonders if Dimitri will continue to haunt and berate him even in the afterlife.

It isn’t as though he doesn’t deserve it. Not for what he’s done.

(When Hubert opens his eye again, it’s face-to-face with Dimitri. He waits, expecting Dimitri to ask him again why he let him die, or why he hadn’t stayed with him to begin with, when Dimitri - a surprisingly weak smile where Hubert expected anger if not hatred - suddenly pulls him into a tight hug, To say Hubert is startled would be an understatement - even still, he waits for Dimitri to say something, anything to break this illusion of a remotely pleasant reunion.

Dimitri doesn’t say anything Hubert predicted him to.

All Dimitri says - with warmth and guilt and even more so love present in his voice - is, “Welcome home love.”

And Hubert can’t stop himself from hugging back, trying not to choke on his sobs as he thinks about how he’ll never let Dimitri go again - he refuses to repeat his past mistakes. Not now, not ever again.)

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amplesalty · 5 years ago

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TV Binging: Pushing Daisies (2007-2009)

The facts were these...

At the risk of immediately dating this entry, the entire world is in the grip of a certain public health crisis right now and it seems everyone is taking that time to learn a new language, plunder their local supermarket for baking ingredients or just dive into that long neglected Netflix watchlist for something to pass the seemingly never-ending lockdown hours. For unknown reasons, my brain turned to the late noughties sensation of Pushing Daisies. Maybe because it’s relatively short, only two seasons totaling 22 episodes, or maybe it was a means of finally putting it to bed after two previous failed attempts to watch it all.

For the uninitiated, the show centers around Ned, a small business owner with the unique ability of being able to bring the dead back to life with just a touch of his finger, albeit with a few asterisks attached. Chief amongst them is that if he touches that person or thing again, they go back to being dead, permanently. And, if that person or things stays living for longer than sixty seconds then the power of the Universe, the Grim Reaper or Final Destination kicks in and takes something else in its place. This was something Ned learned at a very young age when his mother died suddenly of a brain aneurysm and in the act of bringing her back to life, he inadvertently killed the father of his neighbour and childhood sweetheart, Charlotte ‘Chuck’ Charles.

Cut to 20 years in the future, or 19 years, 34 weeks, 1 day and 59 minutes later as the narrator so handily informs us, young Ned has become ‘the pie-maker’, running The Pie Hole where he’s able to massively slash his overheads by being able to make delicious pies by simply bringing rotting fruit back to life to serve as his ingredients. It’s amazing the profits you can turn when you can entirely cut out the middle man of fruit suppliers isn’t it?

Plus he makes a little money on the side by helping a local PI named Emerson Cod. Why do all the hard work of investigating a crime when you can simply have a corpse brought back to life for sixty seconds, long enough to ask them who killed them.

It’s through this little business arrangement that Ned stumbles upon the unfortunate news that Chuck’s body was fished from the sea after she seemingly fell overboard on a cruise. With the prospect of a $50,000 reward for information on her passing, Cod is quick to get on the case but in the heat of the moment, Ned has other motives than money and neglects to re-dead his childhood crush.

Thus the series blossoms into what I would describe as a murder mystery meets fairy tale type show, with Chuck now tagging along as one of the Scooby Gang as they solve a new case every week. That’s probably a pretty apt comparison too considering Ned’s dog is often around too, a dog that he also brought back to life and has been keeping around for twenty years. Though, Ned isn’t a massive stoner and Cod doesn’t wear an ascot. He does have a couple of knitted gun holsters though if you want to equate that as his ‘fruity’ accessory.

The reward is something that feels a little shoehorned in early on, they always seem to go out of their way to make a point of saying something like ‘police are baffled and are offering a reward that leads to an arrest’ just so there’s a reason for Cod to get involved. It does eventually settle into someone coming to Cod directly to hire his services, whether that be a grieving widow or family member of a falsely accused wanting to clear their relatives name. That just made a bit more sense to me. You kinda have to look past the fact that the police never seem to be actively involved in any of these cases as well, allowing Cod and co to just swan around doing their thing until they’re able to turn in the real killer at the end of the episode and cash their reward. It always seems that they have a knack of turning up like two minutes too later to someones murder. They do make a point of turning this on its head in one episode though when they find Ned at a murder scene and figure him as the killer.

And maybe it’s just me being a chauvinistic pig but good lord you cannot escape boobs in this show. Or maybe not just me, punch ‘Pushing Daisies cleavage’ into Google dot com and it looks like a few people were talking about this at the time. It felt like one of those things that, once I noticed it, I just couldn’t unsee it. Women always leaning over or camera shots from above looking down their dresses. Just cleavage everywhere. It seems to come up at slightly inappropriate times, like Chuck’s aunts who are socially repressed and virtual shut ins but are stilled dressed up the nines, boobs pushed up and spilling out.

It kinda makes sense for Olive though, waitress at the Pie Hole and with a thing for Ned so she’s just trying to seduce him but without much luck. Doesn’t mean they don’t go out of their way to show off the twins outside the restaurant though such as when Olive takes ownership of the swimming costumes that Chuck’s aunts used to use as part of their synchronized swimming stage show.

Speaking of Kristin Chenoweth’s set of lungs, she gets to show off her musical background a few times throughout the show by breaking into song . It feels a little out of place as there isn’t any other musical acts in the show but she does a great job.

A more family friendly point of design is just how beautiful this show looks at times. Like, pretty much the first thing you see in episode one is young Ned and his dog running through down a vast hillside of flowers. It’s a really vibrant use of colour that runs throughout the whole show, whether it’s sets or costumes, and really adds to this whole fantasy vibe aided by the fantastical nature of Ned’s special power.

Businesses that pop up as part of the story have these grand, bespoke designed buildings that seem like they would never logically exist in the real world like this honey business with a beehive theme...

...and interior decorations centered around hexagons.

Even something as clinical as the city morgue almost leaps off the screen with a bold red and white striped building. Though, I feel having an entrance labelled ‘deliveries’ brings back a little bit of the coldness you would expect. They might be dead but give them some dignity, they’re not pizzas.

You occasionally get these childhood fantasy sequences as well from when Ned and Chuck would play together as kids, imagining the world in claymation before they would inevitably destroy it as they pictured themselves as giant monsters.

It ties into the characters as well, everyone wearing very colourful clothes except for Ned who only ever seem to dress in blacks or greys.

Except for when he has to act under false pretenses, pretending to be someone else in order to get information from someone or to distract a suspect. To play amateur psychologist for a moment, with someone neurotic as Ned, it’s like a visual representation of his inner self no longer confined, no longer suppressed under the weight of the problems he’s bottling up and pushing deep down within himself. For a brief moment he’s able to break free from the shackles of his black and white world and into rich and living colour. It’s like a strange inverse of how things might usually work where a splash of colour would make someone or something stand out amongst an otherwise drab background. Somehow Ned’s lack of colour draws the eye.

On a more technical level, it is often quite obvious how superimposed the actors are against the fancy backgrounds and that can be a tad distracting. The editing between scenes can sometimes lend to the creative feel of the series, there are a few episodes where instead of the usual wipes you get something more appropriate to the story of the episode. For instance, in one episode centered around a magic theatre show, the transitions are the closing and opening of the stage curtains. It’s a little touch but it adds to the whimsy.

It all adds up to what might the most cutest, adorable thing I’ve ever seen, for the first few episodes at least. Maybe it’s a case of getting used to the whole thing but early on there’s a bit of a feeling out process (or non feeling as the case may be) between Ned and Chuck, the smiles they share or the ways they have to vicariously show their affection by hugging Cod. Him being the unwilling third party in this unconventional relationship doesn’t help take the edge of what might be a saccharine affair. There is a slight sense of ‘will they, wont they’ about Ned and Chuck,, subverting the usual TV payoff of a big kiss by doing so through plastic wrap.Makes you wonder how they explore their other urges under these circumstances. Or maybe that’s just the lockdown thirst kicking in again...

I think the distance they have plays with your head a little bit. There’ a coyness to it that puts you in mind of a bunch of awkward kids at a school dance too nervous to dance with each other. Or maybe Ned standing two feet away from Chuck, holding his own hand and pretending it’s Chuck’s is just an eerie glimpse into the post apocalyptic world we’ll have to enter at some point and all our conventions of greetings and physical contact have been shattered.

For the rotating cast of peripheral characters the show goes through as each investigation comes and goes, it’s nice that a few a started to re-appear now and again, such as Paul Rubens’ Oscar, Christine Adams’ Simone or David Arquette’s Randy Mann. That last one is a name, not a description (a Randy Man, a Macho Savage). It helps build this broader world and story elements, albeit I’m torn on the latter. Oscar, for instance, suspects something is not quite right about Chuck and she worries that he’s going to uncover her secret. It never really goes anywhere though and, whilst you could argue that like any good mystery there is the odd red herring along the way, it still feels like a little bit of a bait and switch considering that are other things in the story that don’t get paid off.

I’ll have to look into the timeline for how the series came to a close because it definitely seems like they knew considering there’s a very tacked on epilogue to the final episode that tries to tie up some of the loose ends, but there are still some left that aren’t. Namely the presence of Ned’s father that he had thought had been long gone for some twenty years but had been closer than he thought the entire time, with the show giving periodical teases of him sitting in the Pie Hole or a more thrilling cameo as he sweeps in to rescue Ned and Olive from their untimely deaths as they cling to a branch on the edge of a cliff.

The fact that he does so whilst wearing a mask and wearing gloves is more of a way to lead Ned towards certain conclusions on the identity of this mystery man but I can’t help but wonder what the implications are on the gloves in particular. The mechanics of Ned’s power seem to be that contact in order to bring the dead back to life has to be made skin to skin, so maybe Ned inherited this power from his father and his father brought Ned back to life at some point? Maybe him abandoning Ned at a young age was done to eliminate any risk of him accidentally touching him again and making death permanent? I’m not sure that would hold up considering he later walks out on his new family and twin boys so this would require three different people to all have seemingly no memory of their own near death experience. Maybe it’s all been repressed, that wouldn’t be surprising considering all the childhood angst present in this show.

You know what else I’m confused on? The distance between Coeur d’Couers, where Chuck’s aunts live, and the Pie Hole. Maybe I’m misremembering or misheard but I’m sure in one episode the narrator mentions that they’re 161 miles apart, yet characters seem to go between the two like they’re five minutes away. One of the aunts arranges a secret date at the Pie Hole later on in the same night but that’s a pretty massive distance to cover considering they make a point that they’re only traveling on buses. I know travel is all relative to American’s considering the massive size of their country but that’s a pretty ridiculous distance to cover for a slice of pie.

#TV Binging #Pushing Daisies

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the-quiet-winds · 6 years ago

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Tides that I’ve Tried to Swim Against (part one)

good morning internet, i hope you’re keeping well.

this piece is actually fairly new, @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and i finished it just before i left on my hiatus, so... yeah...

anyway enjoy!

[Part 1: If You Find You]

it had been aragon who had answered the phone.

the call, for some odd reason, was from a television network, wanting to discuss contracts for a reality show based around their new lives and their stage show.

aragon, surprised and not quite sure what to say, asked for time to deliberate and said she'd call back the next day.

over dinner, everyone seems pretty excited, although jane is a little hesitant, but they go through with it.

so, a week later, a camera crew, producer, and director show up on the front door of their shared house.

they seem friendly enough on first meeting, simply explaining how things would work.

“it’s great publicity for your show,” the reality show director, a man named logan, grins. “we’ll just be here to capture all the action. we want to get a real sense of who you all are as a group.”

“we will require your cooperation in setting some things up, however,” the producer says. jane frowns.

“what do you mean ‘setting things up’?”

“nothing much at all,” logan waves a hand. “sometimes we might add a few little things, like using sponsored products or suggest you talk about a certain topic. it’s nothing to worry about, really.”

jane remains unconvinced, even as parr gives her shoulder a light squeeze, and logan takes her silence as a cue to continue.

"but other than that, we're going to show you all as you normally are," he concludes.

boleyn grins and stands up. "oh this is going to be so much fun!"

katherine and cleves join her, and the trio begin to animatedly talk about what they want to show the camera crews.

jane notices, just barely, logan point at them and give a half-smirk, but really doesn't think anything of it, too focused on trying to calm herself down.

they get told to ‘just ignore the cameras’ and to carry on with life as normal, but it’s more difficult than it seems.

parr, for instance, has a nervous habit of glancing directly at the camera every few minutes, and jane can’t help but notice the producer turning to logan and giving him a pointed look on parr’s sixth awkward glance.

boleyn and katherine get into a playful argument about the tv channels which turns into a giggling fight over the remote. logan gives the girls a huge thumbs up and a grin, which almost doubles in size when cleves leans over and grabs the remote from between the warring cousins, changing the channel to her own favourite.

aragon avoids the crew wherever possible, and whenever she is basically forced in front of them, she is always reading scriptures, to the point where they begin to avoid her all together.

parr is similarly shunted aside and is all but told she's 'too boring' for the show.

that moment, when aragon and parr are hung out to dry and basically kicked off a show that is supposed to be about all six of them, is the moment that finally pushes jane to talk to logan.

she doesn't quite know what she wants to say, so she starts with a basic question. "when are we going to do group stuff?"

“we don’t want to crowd up the shots by having too many people involved,” logan tells her with a wave of his hand. “although... now that you mention it, group things aren’t a bad idea.” he looks like he’s filing away that note for later and gives jane a disarming grin. she doesn’t return it.

“i just worry the viewers won’t be able to get to know aragon and cathy,” she adds, trying to sound as polite as possible, but logan’s face suddenly turns into a frown.

“lady, listen,” he says testily. “we’re the professionals here, and we know what we’re doing. leave it to us, understand?”

the sudden turn in logan throws jane for a loop. “i’m sorry?” she says, a bit of disbelief in her voice. “i’m just trying to look out for my friends-“

“-and you’re pretty damn annoying when you do it.”

if jane gets more upset, she doesn’t let it show. she walks off, intent on finding parr. logan watches her go then turns to his crew with a devilish grin. “i have an idea.”

“whatcha got?” the producer asks.

“well, maybe it’s time people knew the real jane,” she says, eyebrows lifting conspiratorially, and everyone somehow understands what he’s going for.

jane is none the wiser of their plan, and despite her annoyance the crew continues to film as usual. she notices a little more interfering than usual, however, as she’s sure none of the queens had ever purchased a skateboard before and yet three show up by the front door one day.

before jane can move them to avoid whatever chaos boleyn was likely to rope the others into, the producer approaches her.

“we’ve decided to include some confessionals in the show,” he says, and jane frowns.

“confessionals?” she was picturing the boxes in church where you were supposed to confess your sins before the producer clarified it.

“yes, where we interview you about the day’s events and you get to say your opinions on everything. we’ll be getting confessional shots of everybody, but as you’re here we’d like to get some done now, if you’re willing.”

“i...” jane looks around, but no salvation comes. “alright,” she finally agrees.

they bring her outside and into a small tent they’d pitched, with barely enough room for a chair, logan, and the camera man to all be together.

“be honest,” he says, smiling. “we want the real jane.” after she nods, he prompts the first question. “what do you think of our skateboard delivery?”

jane shrugs. “i find it a bit unnecessary, really. i don’t want to see anyone hurt, and i can imagine those boards, especially with the track record some of our girls have, could definitely lead to some broken bones and road rash.”

“could you elaborate on the track record?” logan prompts.

“i suppose so,” jane raises an eyebrow. “there’s been a few times in the past where we’ve had accidents, or physical injuries. kat’s ankle, for example.”

“what happened then?” logan pushes, and so jane tells the story of boleyn and cleves playing odds on, and how katherine joined in and ended up getting hurt. she doesn’t think anything of the question, really, even when logan moves on to the next question.

“so how did that make you feel towards the other queens? you can be completely honest. we want nothing but the truth here.”

jane looks startled. “i love them all,” she states firmly. “they’re all my family and i would lay down my life for them.”

even more surprising to jane is the faintly annoyed look that logan takes. “thank you for that passionate speech,” he drawls. “you’re free to go.”

with a huff and a scoff, jane climbs off the chair and goes off to find the others before they found the skateboards.

she’s just too far out of earshot to hear logan give an annoyed grunt. “we’re going to have to get a little more creative,” he says to the cameraman, and the cameraman nods in response.

---

predictably, nobody else was quite awake yet except parr, the used teaspoon in the sink indicating she’d made herself a drink and headed back to her room within the time jane was being interviewed.

jane’s thankful for this, as it gives her enough time to collect the skateboards and stow them safely in the cleaning cupboard, somewhere she knows the other queens don’t look very often. she gives a glare to one of the stationary cameras positioned around the house to capture the action as she passes it, and the slightly petty gesture helps her feel the tiniest bit better.

she fixes herself some tea and settles into the couch with a book, hoping to appear as boring as possible until other queens woke up to take the attention off her.

a little over an hour later, sleepy footsteps roll down the stairs and katherine appears in jane’s sightline. “good morning, love,” she greets.

the girl, obviously only barely awake, pitches over to her and immediately curls into her side.

“how did you sleep?” jane asks softly, stroking her hair with lazy fingers.

katherine mumbles something vague and incoherent and jane chuckles softly.

“not quite awake yet, are you, sleepyhead?”

katherine doesn’t reply, instead yawning and leaning against jane a little more.

jane lets katherine curl up against her for a few more moments before she gives her a gentle nudge. “would you like some breakfast, love? that’ll wake you up, won’t it?”

“yeah,” katherine mumbles. she allows herself to get pulled to her feet and led to the table, and jane throws small, fond smiles her way as she makes kat’s favorite waffles.

when they’re ready, she sets them on the table and drops a kiss on katherine’s head.

logan is watching everything from the stationary mounted cameras. he knows the story he wants to pursue, but how to do it?

it would be more difficult than it first seemed, that’s for sure. jane hadn’t taken any of the bait during her confessional and it would be hard to get the narrative they wanted from that.

it seemed the only way to do it, then, was through a little careful editing. if they could just get her to say the right things, then the editors could work their magic and get the perfect storyline ready.

all they needed, then, was the words from jane’s mouth, which would most likely require a little bit of intervention.

so they constantly get her alone, trapping her when the other queens were busy or being filmed elsewhere, and jane is absolutely sick of it. she doesn’t know what exactly their game is, but it’s getting very old very quickly.

“would you all please leave me alone?!” she finally snaps, hissing the words at logan after she’d been pulled aside for the fourth time that day. “i have things i need to do and people to look after, including my daughter, so i kindly ask that you lay off and annoy someone else for a little bit.”

in her annoyance she misses the tiny satisfied smile that creeps onto logan’s face.

“so sorry, jane,” he says. “we don’t mean to irritate.”

“well, it is irritating,” jane snaps, her frustration with the past day’s boiling over. “i have a lot of responsibilities in this house. i cook and clean for practically everybody, and you keep dragging me away for no reason at all. now if you’ll excuse me, katherine needs me.”

“she doesn’t need you all the time, surely?” logan asks. “unless what they say is true, and katherine really is oversensitive and immature.”

“katherine’s oversensitive and immature?” jane repeats. “who’s been saying that?”

“just people,” logan shrugs.

jane gives one final glower at the camera before stalking off.

she wouldn’t realize how badly she messed up until the first episode was cut and aired four nights later.

“welcome to ‘the palace’!” logan’s voice introduced the episode. “a look behind the scenes into the life of the queens, back to overturn history’s most infamous stories.”

katherine curls into jane’s side, parr seated on jane’s right, then aragon, with cleves and boleyn on the floor.

“and boy,” logan continues, “do we have some shocking stories to show you.”

boleyn’s, cleves’, and katherine’s faces are plastered on the screen. “anne boleyn, anna of cleves, and katherine howard are far from stuffy historical figures you read about. they’re fun-loving and wacky.” the video of them bickering over the remote cuts on. “but tonight, we’ll expose someone and something no one is expecting.” jane’s face appears on the screen. “we’ll show you the real jane seymour.”

the voiceover ends and the opening credits begin, an electronic beat over some shots of the queens.

there’s tellingly no footage of aragon or parr except in a couple of group shots, as well as a seemingly out of place shot of jane glaring at the camera mixed in with cleves, boleyn and katherine laughing and joking.

the queens didn’t know it yet, but this opening credits would set the tone for the entire episode.

the first fifteen minutes after start relatively calmly. there’s footage of boleyn, katherine, and cleves being their usual goofy selves, and even a confessional from katherine about how much more confident she feels in this new life with her family. jane hugs her a little closer and beams.

the smile fades in the next few seconds, when she becomes the prime subject of the episode.

“many think jane seymour to be a kind, loving maternal figure to the other queens, especially the young katherine howard,” logan’s voice says, complete with the footage of jane making katherine breakfast, then his voice comes back more serious. “but that’s just the side she wants everyone to see. this is the real jane seymour, take a look.”

they had cut together her rant and confessional to make her seem spiteful, that she hated taking care of the house and queens, and even added a slight bit of auto tune to the bit where she challenged someone saying katherine was weak and immature to make it sound like she was saying exactly that.

some of it was played over footage of what had truly been jane playfully telling off boleyn and katherine for making a mess in the kitchen, edited to give it a sinister edge and making it look truly real.

jane feels her heart plummet into her stomach with every word. katherine goes incredibly rigid next to her at the speech, and by the end of it all the other queens are staring at jane, eyes wide.

the show cuts to an advertisement break and parr speaks gently.

“jane? what happened?” she doesn’t seem angry about it, more confused, and jane takes some tiny bit of comfort in the fact that she wasn’t immediately being accused.

jane looks from the tv to the queens to the cameras. “they played me,” she says quietly. “they kept annoying me and i snapped and...” her eyes fall back on the tv. “they made that.”

everyone was silent, and jane doesn’t know if she’s relieved no one is accusing her or hurt no one is defending her.

“it wasn’t real,” she insists softly.

“i believe you,” aragon speaks first. “i’ve had a bad feeling about those tv producers since day one.” she glares at the tv as if it were the crew. “not a scrap of integrity between them.”

“thank you,” jane gives her a small smile, grateful for the support.

parr and cleves agree as well, nodding slowly but not speaking.

boleyn and katherine are a little harder to convince. boleyn and logan are growing close, surprisingly, they tend to feed off each others’ energy and have become friends. katherine, however, feels lots of old insecurities about the inevitable day when jane wouldn’t want her anymore and would stop wanting to be her mum.

both boleyn and katherine sit very rigid, staring at the tv and barely blinking.

“anne? kat?” jane says, somewhat desperately. “please, say something.”

“i mean,” boleyn starts, her voice weirdly high-pitched. “i don’t think you’d say that kind of stuff, but logan’s not the kind of person to trick someone like that. maybe you both just misunderstood each other?”

she doesn’t look at jane, still staring at the tv, and she awkwardly steeples her fingers.

jane can't lie: it hurts a little, the way anne doesn't believe her completely innocent. but she can't be mad at her for defending a friend as well.

she turns her attention to katherine, who had slowly pulled herself from jane's side, looking at the tv and then her mum as the show started playing again.

it was more of the same nonsense about jane's cruel intentions, but jane can see the fear and anxiety rising in katherine's eyes, and she hates that she can't do anything to reassure her.

she tries anyway, another gentle “i promise, nothing i said was directed at you,” but katherine sinks back into the couch and brings her knees up to her chest, practically curling up into a ball.

the rest of the programme is much of the same, contrasting boleyn, cleves and katherine’s banter with jane’s supposed cruelty while aragon and parr and completely absent.

as soon as it's over, katherine stands up and leaves, heading upstairs to her bedroom and closing the door without a single word to any of the queens.

jane sighs, putting her head in her hands. "why would they do this?" she muttered. "there's no reason for them to do this to us."

"ratings," aragon says with a shrug. "reality shows need a character to hate or there's no fun it at all."

everyone gives her a strange look and she sighs. "there's nothing on a lot of the time, it's all that they play."

“but...” boleyn shifts uncomfortably. “but logan wouldn’t do that. right?” she glances between the other queens. “like, he’d know what that would be like for jane, so he wouldn’t do it. right?”

jane sighs, not wanting to drive a rift in the friendship between boleyn and logan, but needing to tell the truth.

“he was acting strangely towards me,” she admits. “getting weirdly annoyed at things i was saying when i asked about... about how little they were filming parr and aragon.”

anne scowls slightly. “i really think you both just misunderstood each other, that’s all,” she insists, not wanting to favor one friend over another but her affection for logan was as strong as it was for jane.

jane looks at her forlornly then stands. “i’m going to go find kat.”

“maybe i should,” parr interjects. “i’m not sure she wants to see you right now,” she continues softly.

it pains jane to hear it, but she knows parr is right and sits down again.

“okay,” she nods. parr gives her a small smile and heads upstairs. she gently knocks on katherine’s door.

“kat? it’s me.”

there’s silence from the other side of the door, then it creaks open. katherine is standing there, tear tracks staining her cheeks and her teddy bear clutched under her arm.

parr enters slowly and lays down beside kat, gently stroking her arm. “it’s cathy, kid. i’m here.”

kat turns over, surprisingly, and looks at parr with wide, worried eyes.

“i know you’re scared, mon petit ange,” parr soothes, “but you need to have faith in your mum. she didn’t mean any of it.”

katherine doesn’t answer.

---

as it turns out, katherine is not the only one left with a soured impression of jane after the show airs.

the next evening at the show, jane is in slightly low spirits, katherine being dodgy and anne being stubborn, but tries not to let it show.

“right, i think it’s my go next,” she says her line after boleyn’s ‘wearing yellow to a funeral’, and is met with actual, loud, boos.

parr shoots a glare in the direction of the audience members who’d done it, but the damage is already done. they try to carry on the scene, but jane stumbles over her lines, and as the opening bars of her song play the same group of audience boo again.

jane tries not to let it affect her; it’s just a few people, a few rude people who let their perspective of her be altered by some reality show. it stings, though. it really stings, in fact, and she tries desperately to hold back tears.

the hurt from the booing and the disappointment she feels radiating from kat, coupled with the general loss and guilt from her son, sends her into tears early on in the song. she fights through them, even as her voice cracks once or twice.

by the time her song ends, it’s dead silent in the theater. no one knows if it’s okay to clap or not, then that same group begins to boo again.

they all hurry offstage as cleves introduces the next number, and katherine won’t even look at jane as they collect their ruffs and sunglasses.

the rest of the show is awkward and disjointed, but at least there’s no more booing. one of the ushers had seemingly told the group that if they interrupted the show again they’d be removed, which was enough of a threat to keep them quiet for now.

this doesn’t change the fact that at the end of the show the energy from both the queens and the audience is completely off. parr grabs a camera from the front row and makes her usual rounds, but the joy is missing from everybody’s movements and much less people wait around for the end of the music before they start to gather their belongings.

“i’ll kill them,” aragon announces fiercely as they make their way to the dressing room. “i’ll kill them with my own bare hands for that.”

no one quite knows where this protective fire is coming from, but just one look at jane, trailing behind the pack and nearly dragging her feet, head held low in shame, is enough to make anyone want to help.

“it’s alright,” jane suddenly and softly protests, “after the tv show, i can hardly blame them for their reaction.”

“it’s not fair, though,” aragon insists. “surely they know that reality tv is all fake anyway. even i know that, and i’ve been dead for five hundred years!”

jane just gives a weak shrug and parr wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“this can’t go on,” she says seriously. “i know you said you don’t think he did this on purpose, anne, and maybe he didn’t, but still, logan cant keep doing this if it’s affecting the show like this. it isn’t publicity, it’s slander.”

“but-“ anne tries to protest, then loses her words.

“there are no buts,” aragon goes on, but softer this time, sounding a bit like parr almost. “if he’s doing this even by accident, look at the toll it took on the show, even after just one episode.”

anne remains unconvinced. she screws face up in concentration and frustration and blurts out, “maybe jane should stop being so sensitive!”

jane inhales sharply, and there’s a moment’s silence.

then, aragon explodes.

“are you hearing yourself right now, anne? are you genuinely, truly saying that being put off by a crowd booing you is being sensitive? you of all people should know how it feels to have people hate you when you don’t deserve it.”

“that’s completely different!” boleyn protests, voice getting louder and louder. “jane had a few hecklers. you can’t fucking compare that to a whole country calling me a traitor and a witch!”

jane stands very quietly at the corner of the room. aragon and boleyn are engaged in a shouting match, parr and katherine are no where to be found, no doubt somewhere where parr is trying to convince katherine to let her mother in, and cleves is probably thinking about fighting the camera crew.

it get so loud so quickly, with the cleves and the tv crew and parr and katherine all bursting into the room at the same time, and jane can't take it anymore. she stumbles into the hallway and falls to the floor, right in front of joan and maria.

“jane, are you okay?” maria asks, concerned. jane doesn’t answer, trying to shut out the noise of the yelling, mingling in her head with the booing from earlier.

“should i get someone?” joan says quietly to maria, who nods, but jane suddenly shakes her head.

“no. no, i’m okay. i just need a moment.”

joan and maria look at each other unsurely and sit down. joan sits next to her, running soothing circles on her back with a hand, and maria across, hoping to provide some sort of barrier from the chaos.

of course, this didn’t work.

logan and his crew rush out of the room, camera on jane. “jane seymour would rather sit on the hallway floor with the band-“ aragon nearly strangles him for not even using their names- “than with her fellow queens!” he announces.

“excuse me,” maria says tersely, “but could you kindly shut the fuck up?”

“don’t,” jane half-chokes out. “he’ll use that footage against you.”

“don’t care,” maria shrugs. “at least i’ll be in good company.”

“alright, i think that’s enough,” cleves says, calmly but firmly. “we’d like you to leave us alone, logan. we can talk about everything back at the house, but this isn’t the place or time for you to record.”

with a slight smirk, logan follows as he was directed, pulling the tv crew out a side door, leaving cleves, maria, and joan in the hall.

no one knew what kind of profound effect that would have until the next episode aired five days later.

not only do they sling jane's name in the mud again, but they drag maria down with her, framing her as an emotionally unstable drummer with anger management issues.

at the episode's conclusion, jane receives a text from maria independently, not in their group chat.

"they're reconsidering my contract," is all it reads.

jane feels a panic run through her. this was all her fault, if she hadn’t reacted like she did then maria wouldn’t have said those things to logan and he wouldn’t have had dragged maria down with jane.

if aragon ever found out it was jane’s fault that her former lady-in-waiting and oldest friend’s job was in danger, then she could kiss goodbye to any further support from her.

jane can’t let this happen to anybody else.

it’s harder said than done, however. the drama is causing amazing rankings, and logan keeps flaunting the license from both the tv station and the stage show’s producers to keep himself running.

there’s only one thing she can do.

the following night, after cooking a big pasta dinner for all the queens, alternates, and ladies in waiting, she looks them in the eyes as they all expectantly wait for her ‘big announcement’ from the couch.

“i’m quitting six,” she says firmly.

#six the musical #six musical #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #katherine howard #catherine parr #anna of cleves #maria on the drums #julie and jess write #tides that i've tried to swim against

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hekate1308 · 5 years ago

Text

Owe No One Anything, Chapter One

A year after the Apocalypse, Heaven came for Aziraphale again. And this time, their plan was truly diabolical. This time, they meant business. This time, Crowley and Aziraphale might not make their way back to each other.

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley

Length: ~ 20k

Read it on AO3

So far, it had been a wonderful day. There had been remarkably many of those lately, ever since they had thwarted the Apocalypse and then proceeded to show Heaven and Hell who they were (not) dealing with a year ago.

Not even Crowley found much to complain about now, and if you asked Aziraphale, he was rather talented at inventing reasons to.

He had just returned from a most pleasant drive through the streets of London; he’d tried to get his angel to accompany him, but he’d wanted to read a first edition Dickens he’d procured the other day (maybe a little demonic intervention of Crowley’s had been involved to make sure the other offer wasn’t accepted, but if Aziraphale knew, he hadn’t complained about it). Crowley had smiled and kissed him and left him to it.

He was whistling to himself as he snapped his fingers to open the door. He couldn’t even remember when Aziraphale had last let any customers in.

“Angel!” he called out “I’m home!”

No answer. That was odd. Normally, no matter how busy he was, he immediately came to greet him.

“Angel?”

Still no answer. Granted, he liked to take walks through the city now and then, but it was unlike Aziraphale not to let him know. He’d have left a note.

Oh well; nothing to worry about, he told himself. He was sure to pop up.

In the meantime, Crowley could make him a cup of cocoa; his eyes always lit up when he did that, and he’d long since given up pretending that it wasn’t one of his favourite sights in the entire universe.

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

They had come quickly, and silently. Aziraphale had been reading and waiting for Crowley; he’d been dwelling on whether they should have dinner at the Ritz or at this ,lovely new Italian place down the road when they grabbed him.

He struggled, of course; but as Crowley could have told him, trying to fight off several angels who wanted to drag someone away was all but impossible.

At least Crowley wasn’t there. It was the one thing he was thankful for as he was brought back to Heaven and right into Michael’s and Gabriel’s presence.

Still – looking at them, looking at those he had tried so often to convince that the Apocalypse didn’t have to happen and who he had tried his best to love instead of that dear old serpent, he found he didn’t have any regrets. A year might not have been a long time when compared to the 6000 they had spent dancing around one another; and yet he had been happier during the past twelve months than he had ever been.

Crowley had made him happy.

And so he could look impassively into Gabriel’s face as he began to speak. “Aziraphale, you not only thwarted the Ineffable Plan, but have since then cohabitated and soiled yourself with the demon Crowley. Is that true?”

“No” he said simply.

“Don’t try to lie to us” he pressed put through gritted teeth, “We know exactly what you have been up to –“

“I haven’t been soiling myself with Crowley” he interrupted him. “We love one another.”

Gabriel laughed, a short, ugly sound. “Love? An angel cannot love a demon. We are hereditary enemies.”

Aziraphale thought of remarking that, considering they were more or less family, it rather seemed like they were the his hereditary enemies, not Crowley, but knew there was no point in saying so.

He would have liked to say goodbye, he suddenly realized. Oh well; better to die with one regret than watch the world burn with a thousand. “So, what is it to be? More hellfire?” he asked casually.

He wasn’t going to let them have their fun. And, while they concentrated on him, Crowley might get away; Crowley might save himself.

Gabriel laughed again then, and he knew that what they were planning to do was something far worse.

“Oh no” he said, putting his face close to Aziraphale’s, “We wouldn’t want to repeat a mistake, would we. No – we have a much better idea.”

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

He’d been home an hour and still no sign of Aziraphale. The cocoa was of course staying warm – a miracle had made sure of that – but Crowley was really starting to worry now. Aziraphale should have at least called, or picked up when he tried to do so, Crowley having finally persuaded him that it was a good idea for them both to carry mobile phones. He still didn’t like to use it (well, for phone calls; Crowley wasn’t supposed to know about the pictures he took, mostly of the demon himself, but he did, of course) but that didn’t matter, he’d know to…

Crowley bit his lip and hissed. He didn’t like this. At all.

And so, he decided to go look for Aziraphale. Even if he didn’t find him, he was bound to be there when Crowley came back.

At least that was what he told himself as he got into the Bentley.

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

Aziraphale was safely contained for now, but that was of course only the beginning.

It had never been tried, Gabriel reflected; but that didn’t mean that their plan was doomed to failure

After all, Aziraphle had not only betrayed Heaven but also the Great Plan and therefore Her; he had to pay.

“Everything is ready for the… procedure” Michael reported.

“Good. Then it’s as it should be.”

She hesitated. “I just… I am not certain it will succeed. Aziraphale’s love for that demon –“

Gabriel glared at her. He held firm in his belief that no love could subsist between an angel and a demon. Aziraphale had gotten confused which side he was on after millennia on earth in close proximity to humans – that was all.

“His loyalty” Michael corrected herself “To the demon Crowley is such that I’m rather unsure we can –“

“I have thought of that. You don’t need to worry. If we can’t extract that… thing you so correctly describe as loyalty from him, we can hide it. Just long enough.”

As a matter of fact, part of Gabriel’s plan depended on Aziraphale stubbornly holding on to his… positive feelings towards the demon; after all, consulting the pictures they’d had in the archive, it was obvious they had grown over a very long acquaintance.

They would be his punishment, once everything was done. For Gabriel didn’t care for the demon – he was already damned, so his destruction would be quite enough of a sentence – but Aziraphale… especially after the trick he’d played them when they had tried to deal with him before…

That was another matter entirely.

“Is Sandalphon ready?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then. Tell them to begin the procedure.“

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

He had no idea what they were planning. That was what troubled him the most. Until now, he hadn’t believed that anything else but Hell fire could be employed against him.

Certainly, in all his readings, he had never happened across something else that could permanently kill an angel.

It occurred to Aziraphale then that they probably weren’t’ planning on killing him after all. Maybe they wanted to keep him captive?

The possibility scared him more than dying.

Because, if he was to be just kept in a cell in heaven…

There was no doubt in his mind that Crowley would eventually hear about it. And then he’d try to break him out.

And if he did that…

Oh God, maybe they would even let him know just to lure him in.

Perhaps Aziraphale was supposed to be bait.

And this was Heaven. There was more than enough holy water to… to…

What if they made him watch Crowley melt away to nothing?

No. Please. Everything but that. He found himself praying fervently. He didn’t actually do it often: Crowley was far more prone to spontaneous prayer than he was – although Aziraphale didn’t think he knew that he knew; but he prayed now.

Please God, he was just trying to do the right thing. He loved this world so much… and he loves me. We love each other. You cannot let this happen. You cannot allow them to punish love.

He had to get away. There was no other way. Because Crowley would come looking for him, and he would find him, and if he tried to save him he would be destroyed.

And Aziraphale couldn’t let that happen. A world without Crowley was too awful to contemplate.

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

Nothing. Crowley had gone straight to all of Aziraphale’s favourite restaurants and had been informed by the staff – who naturally knew him well these days – that “his husband” hadn’t been around; undoubtedly, they thought they had quarrelled, but he could wonder about that and the husband thing when he had found him.

He was currently sitting on their favourite bench in St. James’ Park, thinking.

Aziraphale wouldn’t just leave him behind. That was a fact.

Aziraphale wasn’t there. That was also a fact.

Meaning he wouldn’t have gone away of his own free will.

So someone had to have taken him.

The question was who.

The bookshop had been clean. Crowley knew Hell well enough to be very aware that, if demons had grabbed him, it would have been chaos. And maybe they would have burned it down again for good measure.

So that…

His blood ran cold.

Heaven. It must be. The other angels had stolen Aziraphale away again.

But then… maybe – maybe it was too late, maybe he was already –

No. He couldn’t allow himself to think like that. Aziraphale wasn’t dead; somehow, Crowley couldn’t shake his belief that he would have felt that, would have felt their bond sever in whatever remained of his Grace.

Time to return home. He needed to come up with a plan.

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

It was Sandalphon who came for him, his tooth ornament shining brightly as he grinned at him.

It was not a comforting smile. “Well, Aziraphale. Do we have you at last.”

“It certainly appears like you dragged me away from my home again.”

“Home” he hissed (not unlike Crowley, Aziraphale thought with a stab) “A place you share with a demon, a fallen angel. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I am only ashamed” he said firmly “That I did your bidding for so long instead of doing what my heart told me to.”

“Oh how extraordinary that you should mention that… doing our bidding. How very extraordinary…”

Aziraphale looked at the instruments they had laid out on a small table and swallowed. He had no idea what they were for, but they certainly looked unpleasant.

Only a few minutes later, they were ripping into his skull and all he could do was scream a scream loud enough that it reverberated through Heaven.

He’d never know that Gabriel had ordered that it should. After all, they had to set an example.

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

Crowley was ice more pacing up and down the room. At least he didn’t have to worry about any customers coming in, since Aziraphale still constantly changed the opening hours and rarely sold a book to anyone who managed top come in during them anyway.

Why the angel hadn’t just opened a library instead of a shop, Crowley would never know.

Alright. So it was likely that Heaven had Aziraphale. What was equally certain was that, this time at least, they weren’t working together with Hell; otherwise they would have grabbed Crowley too, especially since they had been separate at the time.

He should never have left him alone.

And then the door opened and Aziraphale came in.

Relief swept through Crowley. He had overreacted again, but then he usually did when it came to him.

“Angel!” he rushed towards him, “Where have you been, I was so worried –“

Alright, maybe that was an overreaction too, but still…

Aziraphale looked at him, his eyes growing wide. Then, an expression Crowley had never seen on him appeared on his face.

Distain. Open, undisguised disdain, and he turned to look behind himself if someone had snuck in. But there was no one.

When he turned back to Aziraphale, he had a flaming sword – not the flaming sword, at least Crowley didn’t think so – in his hands. “Be gone, foul fiend!”

It wasn’t the teasing tone he’d used when he’d last told him.

It was only then that Crowley realized.

Aziraphale didn’t know who he was.

Chapter Two

#good omens #my writings #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #daily updates

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masterofmunson · 6 years ago

Text

the pretty white dress

Cop!Bucky x Criminal Profiler!Reader AU

Summary: Masquerade! Paper faces on parade. Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you.

Or: A Halloween Masquerade Ball seems like the perfect time to stop a serial killer from killing their 15th victim. That, and you have an excuse to wear the white dress again.

Word Count: 10.2k (I would say that I’m sorry, but then I would be lying.)

Warnings: VIOLENCE, a serial killer running ramped through the streets of NYC, gun violence, blood, drug use, mutilating limbs, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, necrophilia is mentioned (this serial killer is a sociopath, okay?), angst, hospital visit, VAGUE smut--y’all, I tried, fluff, language, stalking, murder, brief kidnapping, alcohol, trauma, panic attacks, I’m pretty sure that covers everything, if I left something out, please tell me. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HAPPY HALLOWEEN MY SPOOKY SKELETONS! This took me two whole weeks to write and edit, holy shit lol. This is my longest one shot to date and I’m so excited to share this with you guys. Also, please don’t hurt me when you find out who the serial killer is… if the shoe fits… and it does so…. Please don’t send hate lol. This one is a little darker than what I’ve written before (pretty sure I haven’t written anything dark before, but still), so please be careful when you read this! Please tell me what you think! Have a safe and happy Halloween!

Entering the precinct in a hurry, you quickly step inside the elevator and press level two before the doors slide shut. You swallow hard. Bucky, your NYPD informant, called you in a hurry nearly 20 minutes ago. He sounded nervous and on edge—two things you rarely ever hear from him.

You swallow hard when the doors ding open. Your legs shake as you step out of the elevator and greet Rhodey with a small, nervous smile before hurrying past his desk towards Bucky’s. You set your bag on his desk before slowly approaching him, Steve, and Natasha near one of the conference rooms standing in front of a large, double-sided whiteboard. You gently place a hand on his shoulder. He spins around. You smile softly at him and his shoulders immediately relax. He lets out a nervous breath and his hands twitch at his sides anxiously. You know he wants to pull you into his arms, but he doesn’t. “Hey, Bucky,” you greet him, squeezing his arm twice, your way of tell him that you’re here and safe with him, that you love him. “What’s up?” He watches you with soft eyes and he relaxes momentarily. Now that you’re here with him, he feels so much better. Your eyes glance at the board in front of you. Various pictures and files are stuck to the whiteboard with notes in the remaining spots on the board. At the top of the board, the words sent chills down your spine. The words The Blind Date Serial Killer were written in big, bold letters. You hate that you still can’t help Bucky and the rest of the precinct close the case. Nearly a year and a half into the killings and murders of 14 innocent young women, you still can’t find the person responsible. The most you know about the killer is that it is a male in his mid 30’s and that he always went to smaller restaurants that don’t have security cameras before hand until he went on the actual date. He uses the blind dating app Take a Chance to lure his victims. He never looks the same and the app is entirely anonymous, only matching pairs based on their interests alone. Only, on the date do they see each other. The precinct has gotten numerous warrants to obtain the information and somehow, whenever they get the information that could reveal the murderer, another murder occurs. Your eyes glare at the photo of the the creator of the app and CEO of the company, Loki Laufeyson as a possible person of interest. Every time you’ve spoken to him, he seems so smug and charming, as if he’s proud to know that a serial killer is using his app to murder and mutilate innocent women. You know he doesn’t care. He’s still making money, even with a serial killer on the loose. You hate it. “We just received this from the mailroom,” Bucky states, avoiding your question entirely. He hands you a slip of paper addressed to the precinct and to you. It sends a shiver down your spine. You swallow hard as you read it. Greetings, 77th Precinct and Ms. Y/n Y/l/n, the supposed criminal profiler extraordinaire. By the time you receive this letter, it will be two days after I have laid out my plans for my second annual Halloween victim, but this time, it’s special, and I want you there for the show. I want you to be there when I kill my 15th victim. I want to watch you fail again. I want to see what desperate attempts you’ve made to make sure that no one will get hurt, even though you know someone will. This fantastic spectacle will occur at the perfect place for such theatrical events to occur. Don’t forget to wear your masks. May this prove as your only opportunity to succeed, or prove to me that I can do this again, again, and again. You know what to do. -TBDSK “Have you sent this off to cartography?” you ask, glancing at Bucky as he watches you nervously. He nods. “They’re analyzing it now.” You swallow hard. “Based on the verbiage, he wants to get caught. He wants his 15th victim to be special, have meaning. If we don’t catch him, he’ll most likely disappear. We won’t be able to find him because he won’t want to be found. We have to take extra caution. Have you figured out where this is going to take place?” Natasha hands you a slip of paper, the words Loki Laufeyson’s Halloween Masquerade Ball are in gorgeous print and it makes your heart stop. Of course. He wants to do where he knows it’ll matter, where it will leave a mark. Loki Laufeyson has been allowing these murders continue without giving you and the precinct the information you’ve demanded from him. All he wants is to make money. “Shit,” you curse. “Is there a way for us to get inside?” “Already a step ahead of you, Y/n,” Steve replies, handing you an envelope inclosed with two tickets to the ball. “Nat, Sam, and I will provide backup while you and Bucky remain on the lookout. We will all be wired and we will make sure to watch your every move. Wanda has our outfits covered as well as other gear needed.” You nod. “Sounds good. Bucky and I will arrive separately, of course, but we will remain in contact.” They nod. “Your primary goal is to find who the killer is, isolate him, and make sure no one gets hurt or killed. We must stop him before his list gets to 15,” Natasha states, looking at you. You nod. Bucky shakes his head. “She shouldn’t be taking most of the responsibility. She’s not a cop. I can do that too,” he argues, standing in front of you protectively. You grasp his hand gently and pull him to stand beside you. “I won’t risk her getting hurt.” “Bucky, it’s okay. You’ll be there to protect me if I need it. I’ll have my gun under my dress. I will be just fine,” you state firmly, letting your hand slide out of his hand. His eyes meet yours as he desperately tries to get through to you without saying anything. He knows you. He knows you better than anyone. He knows how stubborn and reckless you are. He knows that you’ll do anything to prove yourself worthy of the task you’ve been given. He’s known that since the two of you have been in college together. He just doesn’t want to lose you. He never does. Your eyes soften and Bucky sighs. He knows you’ll talk about this later when the two of you are alone together. “You’ll arrive close to when the party starts. We can’t risk him killing right when he arrives with or without a woman. We have no idea what he’s planning, just that this is special to him. We have to be incredibly careful,” Steve states. You nod in understanding and Steve hands Bucky a file before dismissing the two of you. You gather your things together at his desk while you wait for Bucky to finish up a conversation with Captain Stark and some last minute paperwork for another case he’s been working on before heading upstairs to grab your things from Wanda. He grabs his jacket and walks beside you to the elevator. He presses the button and the elevator dings as the doors slide open. You step inside and Bucky joins you as you press the button for floor three. The doors close and you glance at Bucky. You reach for his hand. His gaze moves from the floor to your face. His fingers lace with yours and he squeezes tightly. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust your ability to do your job because I know you can,” Bucky tells you, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly. “I just hate the idea of using you as bait. I can’t lose you.” You smile softly at him and squeeze his hand tightly. You return the kiss to his knuckles and the doors ding before sliding open. You let go of his hand and step out beside him. “I know, Buck. I know you’re scared that something will happen to me, but I trust your ability to keep me safe. You always have. You won’t lose me,” you reply, approaching Wanda’s desk. She leans on the counter and smirks at you and Bucky. “Good afternoon, love birds. Have you come to claim your items?” Wanda asks, biting her lip. Even after all this time, the comment still makes your heart stutter. You nod. “Great! Y/n, you’re first.” You follow her into the room and down numerous aisles of clothing and gear until you can no longer see Bucky. Wanda peeks her head down one of the aisles before spinning around to face you. “Okay, so, Steve might’ve told an itty bitty lie for you to come up and see me,” Wanda states, biting her lip nervously. You raise your eyebrow at her questionably. “What do you mean? Do you not have a dress for me?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your chest. “No, not exactly, but I do have a mask for you,” Wanda answers, handing you a gorgeous, gold and white masquerade mask. The lace patterns woven into the fabric are gorgeous twirls and waves of gold and pink. She gingerly hands it over to you. “Wanda,” you sighed, shaking your head at her, “I don’t have a dress to go with this.” She smirks at you. “You do, actually. You just haven’t worn it in a handful of years. It goes perfectly with the mask.” Your eyes widen at her suggestion. The dress she’s implying that you should wear is five years old, and you’ve only worn it once. The last time you wore it, you were 24 and you landed your first criminal profiler job and Bucky was promoted to a detective after just six months as a police technician. There’s no way that the dress still fits you. You shake your head at her. “That dress is five years old, Wanda. There’s no way that I can still fit into it,” you tell her. She raises a brow at you, not buying your shitty excuse. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t here that come out of your mouth,” she states. “You’re in better shape now than you were five years ago. Even then, you were in great shape. You’re going to fit in that dress.” You glare at her, rolling your eyes. “I’m suppose to blend in, not stand out. Wearing a wedding dress will make me stand out.” “No it won’t. The dresses are suppose to be elaborate and extravagant. You’ll fit in just fine. People won’t know that it’s a wedding dress unless you tell them or if they come up to you and ask if it is. Stop being a baby,” Wanda states, shoving your shoulder. “Bucky will!” you argue weakly, pouting at her. It’s stupid to mention, you know this, but it’s the best excuse you have. You know he will know where the dress is from. It’s from the most important day of his life. She scoffs, rolling her eyes at you. “Of course he will, he’s your husband, you dingus. What’s the fun of going undercover when you’re not suppose to know who your husband is when you can easily show him who you are with what you wear? The vision of you walking down the aisle stays with him forever.” Your heart melts at her response and warmth floods your cheeks, but you know you can say the same for you. Walking down the aisle to marry him was the most important moment of your life. He wore a handsome black suit and tie that framed his body perfectly. His hair was pushed back and he shaved his scruff because you asked him to, even though you love his facial hair. “So what you’re saying is that if I wear something he immediately recognizes, he can protect me better?” you ask her. She grins at you, clapping her hands and tapping her finger to her nose. “Ding, ding, ding! Plus, you’re absolutely stunning in that dress! Bucky won’t be able to take his eyes off you which is even better!” You roll your eyes at her and scoff, hiding the growing smile you feel. Shaking your head at Wanda, you can’t help but feel giddy on the inside. Your heart races and your palms are clammy. It reminds you of how you felt five years earlier, nervous and excited to start a new chapter in your life with the man of your dreams. This time though, it’s different and the thought of it sends chills down your spine. The only thing you’re excited about is to wear your wedding dress again. You’re riddled with anxiety. You have no idea what to expect. You’re not certain if you’re going to live to tomorrow, and you’re still not sure what exactly your game plan is to gain the attention of the man who is responsible for killing 14 innocent young women. You take a deep breath and glance at the ground before meeting Wanda’s gaze one more. You swallow hard, feeling the tears well up in the corners of your eyes. Wanda reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly before pulling you in for a hug. “I’m terrified,” you whisper, feeling the crack in your voice as you spoke. Your arms wrap around Wanda and you squeeze tightly. “Before the serial killer stuff started to happen, we were going to start trying for a baby, but then the killings started up and we weren’t exactly sure who exactly did he like to kill. We shouldn’t have stopped trying, but we did. He just doesn’t want to lose me on the job, and I get that he fears that, but we should still be living a normal life. I’m tired of living in fear. I want this to be over.” Wanda sighs sympathetically as she rubs your back. “You should tell him. I think it’s best if you do—“ “Everything okay back there?!” Bucky shouts from the front, interrupting Wanda’s thought. “Yeah! I’m almost done, babe,” you shout back, pulling away from Wanda and wiping the stray tears off your cheeks. She squeezes your forearm and hands you a small box with your communication devices inside. You thank her with a soft smile before joining him in the front again. He gingerly takes your hand in between his. His rough calloused palm meeting yours helps you breathe a little easier. He’s here with you. He’s present. He is home. He raises a brow at you as he looks at the mask in your hand. “Cute mask, but where’s your dress, sweetheart?” Bucky asks you, pulling you into his chest as you look at him. You blank momentarily. You forgot that Wanda lied to get you up here just to give you the mask and the box. “It was a bit of a misunderstanding,” you answer. “There wasn’t anything up here for me except the mask and the box. I’ll figure something else out to wear. I’m not concerned. I’ll be okay.” He hums and glances at Wanda. “Do you need me, Wanda?” She shakes her head with a growing smirk, and hands him a gorgeous black mask. “Wear that blue suit she loves. She won’t be able to keep her hands away from you,” she answers, winking at you. It makes you roll your eyes at her. She’s such a meddler. He laughs, the sound rings through your ears and makes your heart flutter as he takes the mask. He nods and thanks Wanda before taking your hand and returning to the elevator. The door opens and you both step inside. Pressing the ground floor button, you lean into your husband. He hums and you look at him. He grins at you mischievously. You raise a brow at him suspiciously. “What are you thinking, troublemaker?” you ask teasingly. “We should recreate that elevator scene from that one movie you watched with Becca while I was out with Steve. What was it called? Fifty Shades of Grey?” he asks with a sly smirk. You gasp in both shock and in embarrassment. Jesus. Bucky is such a little shit. “Bucky!” you exclaimed as you pushed at his chest. He laughs and traps your fingers with his hand against his chest. “You’re crazy.” He grins at your bashfulness and nudges your nose with his. “You’ve been with me for what, an hour today? I have yet to cash in on a kiss with my gorgeous wife,” he murmurs, breathing you in. Your breath stutters inside your throat and your fingers grasp at the fabric of his work suit. “Well, what are you waiting for, Sergeant?” you murmur as you lean closer to him. He grins, gently tilting his head as his mouth presses against yours. You both grin as your lips meet and he gently holds your face between his hands as he presses kisses onto your lips. “I—” kiss, “love—” kiss, “you,” kiss. It makes your cheeks squeeze against his hands as you smile against his lips and laugh in between. “You’re so romantic,” you laugh against his mouth as he continued his relentless attack on your lips. You let your eyes close as he let his mouth rest on yours in a slow kiss. The doors to the elevator ding and you pull away from your husband’s embrace. He reaches for your hand as you walk out of the building towards the police parking garage where Bucky kept his car. He unlocks the car door for you and you grin at him before kissing the corner of his mouth and sliding into the car. Your eyes follow him as he opens the driver’s side door and settles behind the wheel. You take his hand and kiss his knuckles before resting both your hands on the center counsel. He smiles, squeezing your hand and drives off.

Sighing as you enter your home, you glance at the digital clock on the stove. It’s almost 3:30, which means you have more than enough time to get ready for the party. It doesn’t start until eight, and it goes until three in the morning. You have enough time to rest up, shower, look at the files again, and get ready.

Pulling out your phone, you text Peggy, Steve’s wife, asking her to stop by so she can do your hair and help you into your wedding dress. You want the element of surprise against Bucky. She texts back almost immediately, giving you an enthusiastic yes.

Dropping your keys and your bag on the counter, you tug out the files, the masquerade masks, and the box with the ear pieces from your bag. You hear Bucky lock the door behind you and hear the sound of his footsteps against the aging hardwood floor. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, taking off your coat and hanging it up in the closet. You murmur a quiet thank you as you take off your badge from your belt loop and your gun holster before setting them on the counter.

Kicking off your shoes, you set them inside the closet before joining Bucky on the couch. You curl into him instantly and your fingers slowly unbutton his shirt. He sighs in content before shrugging off the shirt. You throw it onto the loveseat and lean back into him. His lips press against your shoulder. His fingers pull away the fabric covering your skin and he hums when he feels your warm skin beneath his lips. His lips travel up your shoulder, to your collarbone, and they rest against your neck.

“You know,” he states against your skin as he leaves his mouth planted on your neck, “just because we don’t necessarily treat each other as husband and wife at work, doesn’t mean that I still won’t go out of my way to make sure you’re safe. I made a promise to love and protect you until the day I die.”

You hum, nodding and closing your eyes. A soft smile finds its way onto your face. You grab onto his hand, resting your hand on top of his and letting it rest on your stomach. “I know, Bucky. Thank you,” you mumble sleepily.

He smirks against your warm skin. “Did I tell you you looked beautiful today?”

You hum, attempting to shrug your shoulders, “Probably. I don’t remember. You always do.”

“Well you looked beautiful today,” he states, kissing the corner of your jaw. You whine, attempting to tug away from his relentless kiss attacks on your skin.

“Stop kissing me,” you grumble with a pout. “I’m tired. Let’s nap.”

He laughs and the sound of his laugh warms your insides. You smile softly, turning around in his arms and resting your head on his chest, listening to the constant beat of his heart.

“Let’s get you upstairs, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, mumbling in your ear. You hum and he sits up. He stands up, sliding out of your warm embrace and he takes you into his arms. You cling to him as he walks up the stairs to your bedroom and he gently sets you down. “Let’s get these clothes off of you,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt off your body. His warms hands wrap around your back as he unclasped your bra, leaving your upper body entirely bare to him.

Bucky turns around, grabbing one of his shirts and he presses a soft kiss to your diaphragm before helping you into his shirt. You shimmy out of your pants and Bucky does the same, as well as discarding his undershirt.

You climb into bed together and face each other. He lets his hand rest on your hip. Your eyes flutter as you stare at him and he presses a kiss to your cheek bone. You noticeably relax and he kisses you again and again. It’s the perfect time to tell him that you want to start trying for a baby again.

“James?” you utter gently as your eyes meet. You gently place a hand on his cheek, scratching his growing stubble. He hums as he looks at you. “I want us to start trying for a baby again.” He stares at you and his grip on your hip tightens.

“Really?” Bucky mumbles with a hopeful smile.

You nod. “Yeah. I don’t want this serial killer to dictate our lives. We shouldn’t be living in fear. Besides, I can still do desk work and help out while I’m pregnant. I’ll be okay.”

He grins, rolling over so you’re pinned beneath him. His fingers push up the t-shirt that adorns your body and he leans down to press kisses to your tummy. It makes you laugh and you thread your fingers through his hair.

“We should start practicing right now,” he smirks against your skin and he pushes the shirt closer to your bare chest as he leaned down to kiss you. Your smile grows against his mouth as he drags the shirt off over your head.

“Somebody’s eager,” you tease breathlessly as he kisses along your neck. He grunts against your skin.

“It’s been four days since I’ve intimately touched your body. I’ve missed you,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear.

You fake a gasp and giggle, running your hands down his spine. “You poor baby,” you coo. “Four days is such a long time.”

He nips his teeth into your collarbone. Your fingers squeeze his hair. “Should you be teasing your husband when you’re at his mercy?” he cooed in response. “I know you’re more than eager for me to get the show started, but I don’t know if I should.”

“Hey,” you chastised him, pouting your lips at him as he looked up you, “don’t be a sour puss. I’ll push your dry spell to a week if you don’t take off my nice, pink, silky undergarments with one of your fingers or with your teeth within the next ten seconds.”

He smirks at you as he lingers down your body. He presses a kiss to your abdomen. Your heart stutters right as he lets his head rest between your thighs.

“Like this?” he whispers, dragging his teeth over your underwear and pulling it down your legs. You sigh, letting your eyes flutter close. He smirks on the inside of your thigh, pressing a kiss to your skin. “Oh, so definitely like this.”

It makes you giggle and warmth spreads through your cheeks. Bucky can never fail to make you laugh, even while you’re having sex. You love it. The connection you have between your bodies is always present, but your actions and words have always been your strong suit.

He gently squeezes the inside of your thighs before pushing them apart. You sigh in anticipation as you feel his breath linger on the inside of your legs. His eyes flicker back to you and he grins. Your eyes follow his every move. He blows his warm breath up your body just to tease you and you whine as he settles his face in the crock of your neck.

His lips kiss the side of your neck slowly and you can’t help but thread your fingers through his wild, brown hair. The feeling of his scruff against your skin drives you wild. You feel his hips roll with yours.

“Bucky—fuck,” you whine, reaching your hands behind his back as your fingers tug his boxers off his hips, “please, please, please, for the love of all things holy, do something to please your very impatient wife.”

You know without looking that his smile widens tenfold at the sound of your desperation. Cocky bastard.

He leans down, letting his lips move around your chest. “You would think after having married me and being with me for eight years would make you realize that I like to draw things out to get the full experience. We’re trying for a baby here, pumpkin,” he grins, “this must be experienced.”

“If I didn’t love you as much as I do and want to bare your children, I would kill you because of that bullshit statement. You’re killing me here, Barnes,” you whine.

He laughs, and pulls his boxers down his legs and off the bed. He reaches for your torso and helps you sit up. Your legs cling to his waist and you wrap your arms around him.

He kisses you slowly and you sigh against his mouth as his hips meet yours. Every part of your body tingles and you kiss his shoulder, letting you lips touch the scarred flesh from his first encounter with a criminal that was armed with a knife. His hands run up and down your back slowly until they settle on your hips. He squeezes them tightly and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he hums, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. Goosebumps run down your spine.

“Yes,” you answer, humming in relief.

He grins, letting his hands fall from your hips to the inside of your thighs. You fall back against the pillows and his fingers tease your skin. You whine, letting out a desperate moan.

His fingers move in perfect tandem with his hips and it makes all the difference. You whimper his name, letting your fingers thread through his hair. He grunts into your neck and settles between your legs.

A few long moments pass and he rolls over to his side of the bed. His arms pull you close. He kisses you slowly.

“Do you think that one was the one?” he grinned at you.

You laugh loudly and it’s music to his ears.

After making up the four day dry spell that your husband had so religiously complained about, you both fall asleep. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist as you slept together and his hands gently rub at your bare tummy. A content sigh escapes your lips as you sleep and dream of an itty bitty Bucky growing inside of you.

An hour or so later, you wake up to the blaring noise of the alarm you set on your phone. You groan into your pillow and Bucky kisses your bare shoulder. You roll over to face him and his smiles at you sleepily.

“Hi,” he mumbles in his thick morning voice. He reaches to kiss your cheek.

“Hi,” you reply back, letting your eyes close briefly before forcing yourself to sit up. “Sleep well?”

He hums. “Good. You?

“Me too. I’m going to take a fast shower before Peggy gets here,” you yawn.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’ll make dinner and look over the files.”

You hum, pressing kisses all over his face before sitting up in bed and pulling the covers off of you. Your feet settle on the floor and you walk into the bathroom, blowing Bucky a kiss before shutting the door.

Turning the shower on, you turn towards the bathroom counter and set your wedding ring down until you wait a handful of seconds until the water turns warm to step inside. You sigh as the warm water rushes down your back in warm waves as it soaks your skin and your hair.

After you shampoo and condition your hair, you lather your legs with soap before shaving. Standing underneath the shower head, you wash away the soap covering your body before turning the shower off.

Drying off, you slip into a pair of sweats and tug on an old fleece jacket before blow drying your hair and sliding your ring back on your finger.

After, you tug on a pair of cabin socks before walking downstairs to join Bucky in the kitchen. The smell of whatever he’s cooking wafts through the front room and you find him sitting at the kitchen table with the files spread around the table. He’s rubbing at his temple and reads through the files. He looks up when he hears the floorboards creak under your weight. He smiles softly and you grin at him before approaching him.

He leans back in the chair and you settle in his lap. His arm cradles your back and his fingers move circles around your hips. You press a kiss to his temple.

“What’ve you been looking at?” you murmur quietly, threading a hand through his hair. He sighs, relaxing against your touch. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Just looking over your file,” he mumbles.

You hum glancing at the pile of papers in front of him. “What does it say?”

“Your name is Caroline Stevens, you’re a photographer for the event. Your media pass is right there,” he points to the bright blue badge on the table. “You’re goal is to take as many pictures of the people there. We’re going to catch him.”

You nod, “What’s your role?”

“To make sure you’re safe. I’m only meant to watch and observe you and anything that might be dangerous.”

Your fingers scratch his cheek gently and he looks at you. His shoulders are tense and his eyes are full of worry. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he states firmly, “I promise.”

You nod, “I know,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips.

The stove beeps and you pull away from him, standing up. Bucky follows suit as you grab two dinner plates from one of the cabinets and you hand them over to your husband. You grab the napkins and turn to face him.

“Forks, spoons, knives?” you ask.

“Forks and knives,” he answers. You grab two sets of silverware and set them on the kitchen table.

You gently gather up the loose pieces of the documents into neat piles and place them back into the correct files. You set the files on the kitchen counter and move your badges and the earpieces for communication off the table.

“Whiskey, water, or wine, babe?” you ask him.

“Whiskey. We’re going to need it,” he answers, placing the dishes on the table. You laugh and pull two glasses out of the china cabinet. You grab the glass bottle of whiskey from inside the pantry and pour it into the glasses.

You set Bucky’s glass in front of him before joining him at the table. You hum as you dig into your plate, a grilled chicken breast with alfredo sauce and noodles.

After dinner and cleaning up the kitchen, Bucky heads up stairs to shower and get ready when Peggy arrived. He kissed her cheek and headed up stairs. She grins at you and hugs you tightly before you shut the door behind you. She walks into the kitchen and sets her bag down.

“I’m so glad you called me, Y/n,” she grins as you sit down in the kitchen chair again. “I haven’t pampered you in ages!” You laugh as she plays with your hair. “What are we going for today?”

“Something that screams that I want all the men to look at me,” you answer with a smirk.

Peggy giggles. “I can most certainly do that.”

Once Peggy finishes your hair, Bucky walks downstairs and you turn your head to look down the hallway. You’re speechless.

He’s wearing the navy blue tux from Steve’s and Peggy’s wedding and he looks incredibly handsome. It’s your favorite suit on him. You stand up from your spot in the chair at the kitchen table and place your hands on his chest.

“You look so handsome, Buck,” you murmur, gently caressing his cheek. He leans into your touch and presses a kiss to your lips.

He pulls away and grins. He plays with a strand of your hair. Your hair is in a beautiful braid around the back of your head that moves into one gorgeous braid down your back. Your hair frames your face perfectly. You look ethereal.

“I love your hair, sweetheart,” he grins, kissing your cheek. “I can’t wait to see what you’re wearing.”

You grin at him and he walks to the kitchen counter, opening the box with the ear pieces inside. He places the ear piece inside his ear and you nervously play with your wedding ring. You let out a nervous breath and slide the ring off your finger. You reach for his hand and place the ring in the palm of his hand.

“Keep this safe for me, would you?” you murmur, closing his hand around the ring.

He nods wordlessly, and places the ring in his pocket for safe keeping. He wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you close. His nose brushes against yours and you press your mouth firmly against his. He caresses your cheek and breathes you in. He pulls away and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers so only you can hear. “I will see you soon.”

You nod, “I love you too,” you reply as you watch him grab his wallet, badge, gun holster, mask, and his ticket before heading out the door.

You sigh, feeling a 50 pound weight rest on your chest. You wipe a stray tear. At least he’ll be with Sam, Steve, and Natasha now. You can’t say the same. You’re going to be all alone in an attempt to lure the serial killer. Now you’ve become a potential victim. Single, young, and you have a successful (fake) career. You glance at the clock on the oven. You have another hour until you have to be at the Loki’s Halloween party.

You glance at Peggy and smile at her. “Would you mind helping me into my wedding dress?” you ask her. She screams in excitement and claps her hands together. It makes you laugh and you walk up the stairs to your bedroom closet.

Turning on the light, you head into the back of the closet, grabbing your precious wedding dress from its hanger and handing it over to Peggy. You strip out of your sweats and jacket, letting Peggy see all the marks on your hips and thighs. Warmth covers your cheeks and she raises a brow at you.

“Bloody hell, love,” Peggy breathed through a laugh, “these are fresh, aren’t they?” You don’t answer her question and her mouth drops. “You had sex before I came over, didn’t you?”

You swallow hard. “Technically we had dinner after we napped after we had sex,” you answer, hiding your growing smile.

She scoffs at you, rolling her eyes playfully as she helps you step into the dress. She pulls the sleeves up your body and stares at you through the bathroom mirror. “You know I’m not judging you, Y/n. I think I speak for Steve and I when I say that I am happy to hear that your sex life is thriving. We are antsy to become aunt and uncle, you know. I think Steve is getting tired of hearing that Bucky is the Fun Uncle when he doesn’t have a niece or nephew to spoil rotten,” she teases.

You giggle embarrassingly and hide your face from your best friend. “Peggy, stop it! This is a weird conversation,” you laugh as she zips up your dress.

“No, it’s not. I’m your best friend. I’ve known you since we were 18. I know everything there is to know about you. I am just saying that if you happen to find out that you’re pregnant two or three months from now, Steve and I will be very excited,” she grinned.

You laugh. “Okay, okay, I understand, Peg.”

She smiles at you through the mirror, admiring how beautiful you look in your wedding dress. The dress fits your frame perfectly. It’s an off the shoulder dress with sheer, white fabric covered in flowers. The fabric flows perfectly down your waist and it makes your heart flutter. You love your wedding dress. You’re so glad that it still fits.

“Do you remember when you walked down the aisle and when Bucky saw you, he started to cry?” Peggy asks you with a fond smile.

“Yes!” you exclaim with a laugh. “And then I started to cry!” Peggy laughs and forces you to sit on the toilet seat so she can do your makeup.

After Peggy does your makeup, you thank her and promise that she can pamper you again some other time when she leaves. Shutting the door behind you, you step into a pair of gorgeous, white pumps with flowers designed on the heels. Grabbing a clutch purse from the closet, you toss it onto the table before grabbing your gun and strapping it to your thigh holster underneath your dress. You fix your masquerade mask on your face and grab all the required ID’s for you to get inside. You fix the earpiece into your ear and toss your ticket, press pass, and phone into the purse.

Walking into your home office, you grab your camera and head back out to the kitchen when someone rings the doorbell.

Walking to the front door you unlock it and open the door. Standing on the porch is Jarvis, one of the other detectives at the precinct. You greet him with a soft smile and let him inside before grabbing your purse, camera, and coat from the kitchen table. Jarvis opens the door for you and you thank him before locking it behind you.

Helping you into the limo that the precinct has for undercover operations, he shuts the door and climbs into the driver’s seat before driving off.

Another 20 minutes pass until the limo stops in front of the Laufeyson property. Camera’s flash and there’s security everywhere. Jarvis turns around and looks at you. “Good luck, Y/n. I’ll notify the team that you’ve arrived,” he tells you. You thank him and climb out.

Walking through the property up the steps towards the house, you flash the media badge that was given to you and you walk inside without a hitch. You pin the badge to the sleeve of your dress and drop your purse and your coat off at the bag checking area. You press your finger to the ear piece.

“I’m here,” you state, glancing around to see if you can spot your husband or his team.

Your eyes gaze around the vast room. A gorgeous staircase is at the center and people in their costumes are in every part of the house. In the hallways, on the stairs, looking on from the rails on the second floor, they’re everywhere. You have no idea how you’re going to catch the killer.

You notice the stage behind the staircase and the bar area beside it. It’s all too much. The music is loud, too loud, and there’s smoke and drugs everywhere. It makes you want to vomit. There is no way that you alone can find him.

“Where are you?” Steve is the first to reply.

“Just in front of the staircase. I’m in white.”

Natasha whistles in the comms. “Damn, is Bucky lucky,” she laughs.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing your wedding dress,” Bucky utters in disbelief.

You spin around in an attempt to try and find him. “Do I look okay?” you ask nervously.

“Stop trying to find me, sweetheart. You look perfect.”

You let out a nervous breath, fighting back frustrated tears. “How am I suppose to find him when there’s this many people?”

“He’s suppose to find you,” Natasha answers.

You sigh, bringing your camera up to your eyes as you start taking pictures. People instantly gather around you when they notice that you’re taking pictures for the event. They smile and shout and sing. They dance, they kiss, they drink.

Men flirt with you relentlessly and you try your best to figure out if any of them are the one you’re looking for. They compliment your dress. They compliment your legs. They compliment your eyes, but not one of them praise you for your photography. You know then that the men yearning for your attention aren’t the one man you are looking for.

You move around the home. You take pictures at the bar. You take pictures on the dance floor. You take pictures on the stairs and in the hallways on the second floor.

You’re on the lookout for Loki. You still haven’t seen him and you know he likes to make a scene. He’s a total narcissist.

“May I dance with you?” some asks behind you as you stand in the center of the dance floor. You turn around and your eyes meet Loki’s. There’s no mistaking his stunning green eyes.

He’s in a gorgeous dark green suit with a matching mask.

You swallow hard, letting the camera strap tug on the back of your neck. “Can I get a picture first?” you ask him. He laughs, nodding at your request.

You bring the camera up to your face and focus in on his face. He grins at the camera lens as you capture the picture. The camera flashes and you let it rest against your stomach.

He takes your hand in his and lets his free hand rest on your hip. He pulls you close and leads you in the dance.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Loki asks, expecting you to tell him your name.

“Caroline, and yes,” you answer, “you throw quite the parties, Mr. Laufeyson.” He hums, nodding and laughing quietly at your response. “Although I did expect your entrance into your own party to be more extravagant.”

He laughs, “I can certainly see why you expect that.”

He twirls you around before dipping you so you have to grasp his shoulder tightly to keep your feet on the ground.

Your heart starts to race as he inches closer to you and you swallow hard. Your eyes move past him towards one of the men watching you and inching closer. A man walks up behind Loki and gently presses a hand to his shoulder. You have to hold your breath to stop yourself from panicking.

He whispers something into his ear and Loki nods, gently pulling his hands away from you. “Well, Caroline, it was lovely to meet you and dance with you. I must leave to take care of some business. Enjoy yourself,” he tells you before disappearing.

You let out a nervous breath of air and watch Loki disappear. You clutch your chest and swallow hard before moving off the dance floor. You step over to the bar and order a drink before sitting down. You take a long sip.

“You okay, sweetheart?” A voice whispers beside you. You turn your head to look right at your husband. He’s nursing a drink in his hands and staring at you.

You nod. “Yeah. I just danced with Loki, freaked me out a bit,” you answer, sipping your drink.

“Take a deep breath, you got this.”

You let out a nervous breath and you itch to touch him, but you don’t. Instead, you down the rest of your drink before walking up the stairs.

Leaning against the railing, you look down at those on the dance floor and at the bar. They’re kissing and drinking and sneaking off into the bathrooms with each other. It makes you sigh. You just want to be with Bucky. You look across to the other side of the house. Bucky’s staring right at you nursing another drink. You roll your eyes. At least he’s doing his job.

“Do you not like taking photographs at events like these?” someone asks, approaching you and leaning on the railing next to you. You tense and try your best to ignore Bucky inside your ear. You turn your head, looking at the man in question. He’s handsome. His curly brown hair frames his face perfectly and he has stunning green eyes. His mask rests on his forehead when he looks at you.

You shrug. “I just didn’t expect this many people, that’s all,” you answer, swallowing hard.

He nods, sticking his hand out for you to take. “I’m Ethan,” he introduces himself.

You smile at him and nod, avoiding his hand, “Caroline.”

He laughs, nodding his head and dropping his hand to his side. You stare down at the dance floor when the lights go off. People scream and you grasp the railing tightly. You can hear Bucky shouting your name into your ear, but it’s all background noise. You feel a sharp prick in your arm. It makes you scream and the lights turn back on. You turn to face him.

Your vision is blurry and your tongue feels swollen. Your head starts to hurt. You squint to face him. “What did you do to me?” your words are slurred as you feel him grab your arm, tugging you down one of the empty hallways on the second floor.

He shrugs. “It’s a fast acting drug to copy the effects of someone who is wasted,” he answers. “Loki uses it on all of the girls.”

“It’s Loki. It’s Loki. It’s Loki,” you chant, pressing your finger against your ear. “It’s Loki. It’s Loki. It’s Loki.”

“Y/n!” Bucky shouts in your ear. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you!”

You groan as Ethan pulls you through an unmarked door up another flight of stairs. A door creaks open and through your blurred vision, you see a figure in a dark green suit at a table with a candle.

Ethan pulls out a chair and forces you to sit down. You blink fast in an attempt to keep your eyes open. You squint, knowing that sitting before you is Loki, the man responsible for killing 14 innocent young women.

“Why?” you slur in an attempt from falling asleep. You have to stay awake. You have to stay awake. You have to stay awake. “Why did you kill all those women? Why create an app to lure them when whatever you put in me is just as useful?”

“Because, Y/n,” he states, leaning against the table to get a good look at you now that you’re entirely vulnerable in front of him without hiding behind a fake name. “Women lie. They are deceitful creatures, especially on dating sites. I just did what needed to be done to punish them.”

“Why kill me, then? I’m not on dating sites. I don’t fit in with the women you’ve killed.”

He smirks at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. He knows something. Loki knows something and it scares you. You hate it. He grabs something from behind his chair and pushes it onto the table. You have to squint to see it. Your heart drops into your stomach. You feel like throwing up. Loki has pictures of you and Bucky on your wedding day. “On the contrary, Y/n, you are. Did you not give me a fake name when I asked for it? You did lie, but that’s not why I’m going to kill you. I did some digging on you because I liked you, I still like you, and I wanted you. You’re strong, powerful, independent, someone I could see myself with. Every time I saw you in the lobby of my building, every time you spoke to me, I wanted you, but when I found out that you were married to one of the many cops that is trying to thwart my killings, I was furious. You tricked me with your charm and your wit to think that I could have you. He doesn't deserve you.”

Your heart starts to race. “What are you going to do to me?”

He smirks, reaching for your hand. His fingers lace with yours and your weak attempts to pull from his touch are useless. You’re too drugged up to do anything.

“Like I do with all my victims. We’re going to eat together, and then I’m going to drug you again, and then I’m going to have my way with you. Usually, I have my way after they are dead, but you, Y/n, are special. I cannot let such a warm, beautiful body, in such a beautiful dress go to waste. This is your wedding dress, is it not? I’m going to thoroughly enjoy having you to myself, knowing that your husband can’t do anything to save you. After, like all my other victims, I’m going to kill you piece by piece,” he answers.

You scream as loud as you can, hoping by some miracle that Bucky and the others are tearing the house apart looking for you. Loki just laughs, pressing his mouth to your skin. His lips trail up your arm and it makes you want to puke.

“They cannot hear you. These walls are soundproof,” he grins. He forces a bite of steak into your mouth, forcing his hand on your jaw, forcing you to chew and swallow the meat. Tears cover your cheeks.

“Please,” you beg, “please don’t do this.”

You take your free hand under the table beneath your dress. You slowly take your gun from its holster, dragging it up your body and into your lap. Loki just smiles at you.

“Why not? You’re in this gorgeous dress, I’m in this handsome suit, why don’t we see what’s underneath?” Loki questions, standing up from his spot at the table, moving closer to you. You swallow hard, gripping the gun as hard as you can, as much as your drugged up body will allow. You silently switch the safety off and aim it at his knee caps. You glance up at him.

“Your lackey should’ve checked if I was armed,” you sneer, pulling the trigger.

Loki screams in pure agony and you shoot his other knee so he falls to the floor. You fall off the chair and you can hear Ethan running up the staircase. You aim for the opening and don’t hesitate to fire when you see him step into the room. He crumbles down the stairs.

You press your finger to your ear. “Bucky,” you sob. “I’m in a hidden room on the second floor. I can’t—I can’t move. He drugged me but I shot him. I shot Loki. He’s the serial killer.”

“We’re coming, baby! I’m coming!” Bucky shouts.

You start to panic and you watch Loki writhe in utter pain on the other side of the chair. He’s covered in blood and it stains a portion of your dress. He snarls at you.

“I’m going to kill you,” he snears, crawling his way towards you. You scream. You still can’t move your legs. You’re lucky you were even able to shoot your gun in the first place.

You hear something break just beyond the staircase and you drag yourself on your forearms away from Loki. He pulls himself forward with his arms.

The stairs creak behind you and you hear shouting behind you.

“Y/n!” Bucky shouts behind you. Natasha and Steve run in front of you, dragging Loki away from you. Steve handcuffs him and Nat reads him his Miranda rights. Bucky gently pulls you up to your feet.

“I can’t feel my legs, Buck. I can’t—I can’t,” you slur.

“What did you give her?!” Natasha snarls into Loki’s ear. He smirks smugly, staring into Bucky’s eyes.

“I use it on my victims so that they’re too weak to fight back. It makes them feel slow, loopy, wasted. It’s easy to do whatever I want with them when they’re in such a state,” Loki answers with a smirk as Steve and Natasha drag him down the stairs. Other policemen canvas the area and start taking pictures and gathering evidence. Others take care of Ethan’s body.

“I’m going to get you an ambulance, baby. The doctors are going to help you,” Bucky states, fighting back his own tears.

He picks you up in his arms as he carefully walks down the stairs. Your arms are dead weight, hanging down your husband’s back as he takes you outside to one of the many awaiting ambulances.

Paramedics take you immediately and lay you on a gurney. They place an oxygen mask over your nose and you start to panic.

“Ma’am, you need to take deep breaths. You are okay. You’re safe. We’re going to the hospital,” one of the paramedics tells you, gently grabbing your arm.

“My husband,” you cry, “where is my husband? I need my husband.”

The paramedics glance at one another before one of them climbs out and walks over to where Bucky stood at the front of the vehicle.

“Sir, do you know where her husband might be? She’s in hysterics.”

Bucky’s broken from his raging thoughts and kicks his foot off the ambulance. “I’m her husband,” he states, hurrying to the back of the vehicle and climbing inside so he can be with you.

“Bucky,” you cry, your voice muffled behind the oxygen mask. Tears dampen your hair as you continue to cry.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. They’re taking us to the hospital so doctors can take care of you. You’re safe. It’s okay,” Bucky murmurs, gently threading his fingers through your hair as the paramedics do a number of tests before shutting the doors and taking off to the nearest hospital. You fall asleep to the beat of your heart and the feeling of Bucky’s fingers through your hair.

Some time later, you wake up and you gasp in a panic. You don’t know where you are. You don’t remember what happened. The heart rate monitor starts beeping in a wild rage. It causes Bucky to stir from his restless slumber in the chair beside you with his hand in his. You’re gasping for air.

Bucky climbs out of his seat, hurrying over to your side. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Breathe, you’re in the hospital. You’re safe. He won’t hurt you anymore. I’m here. You’re okay,” he tells you, threading his fingers through your hair.

You blink at him through your tears when you notice that he’s still in his handsome navy blue tux. You burst into tears and cover your face shamefully.

“I’m sorry,” you sob. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that he had others to collect his victims to give to him. I didn’t do my job. I’m sorry.”

Tears find their way to Bucky’s cheeks and his heart breaks. He prys your hands away from your tear stained cheeks. He kisses your knuckles and squeezes your hands.

“Don’t apologize, Y/n,” he sniffs through his tears. “You did do your job. You caught him. You stopped him from murdering even more innocent women. You did it, baby. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know. It’s over now.”

He gingerly climbs into the small hospital bed and cradles you in his arms. He kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry that I didn’t do my job. I was suppose to protect you and I didn’t. I let him take you. I failed you, I’m sorry,” he cries, hugging you close.

You shake your head. “No. No. This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you. This is not on you. Neither of us knew what would happen. We took a risk knowing that something could happen because that’s our job. This is not your fault, James,” you state firmly, sinking into his touch as silence falls between you. Your fingers move gently against his chest. “I thought I was going to die without telling you that I loved you one last time,” you confess, closing your eyes in a weak attempt to stop the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

He kisses your forehead firmly. A tear touches his cheek. “I thought I was going to lose you. I was so scared, but you? You were so brave, so fearless. It’s one of the many things I love about you, sweetheart. You’re so strong.”

You snuggle into his side and kiss his shoulder. He takes your left hand in his, pulling out your wedding ring from the safety of his pocket. He slides it back onto your finger and kisses your knuckle gently. He wipes away your stray tears damping his shirt. You sigh. “So what did the doctors say?”

“Whatever they injected you with was some variation of a roofie. They flushed it out of your system and ran a few tests, but you’re okay. You can still walk. You’re going to be okay,” Bucky answers.

You press a kiss to his jaw. “Thank you for saving me,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I’ll do it again and again if I have to,” he murmurs.

You rest your head on his chest, letting your eyes close. This time, you’re not in a panic to fall asleep. You’re in the arms of the man you love most. He’s your protector. He’s your life. He is the biggest part of you.

His arms wrap around you safely. He kisses your shoulder and lets his hands rest on your tummy. You hum, opening your eyes so you can look at him properly before falling asleep again.

“When we get home, we’re going to have to start baby proofing the house,” he states with a growing smirk.

You sit up and stare at him with a raised brow. “What? Pregnancy doesn’t work that fast,” you tell him, laughing at him.

He smirks at you, brushing his fingers around your tummy. “After 11 weeks go by, it probably does,” he answers. You blink at him in shock. Tears of joy fill your eyes.

“Eleven weeks?” you choke out. “I’m 11 weeks pregnant?”

He grins at you, squeezing your hand. “Yes, baby, you are. They had to run a lot more tests just to make sure that the baby was okay with all the stuff that was in your system,” he informs you.

“We’re going to be parents,” you utter in awe. “I’m going to be a mom. You’re going to be a dad. We’re having a baby!”

He laughs, kissing you slowly. You gently caress his face and grasp onto his hair. “Once they make sure you’re okay to leave, we have eight weeks of paid leave to prep for Baby Barnes,” he states.

“Eight weeks? Isn’t two months a lot?”

“Tony insisted. He wants to make sure that we both get the services we need before returning to work after what happened. We’re going to be okay,” he answers.

You sigh, pressing your lips to his tummy, you let your hands rest on top of his that were on your own stomach. You sigh.

“I have a baby in me,” you mutter in disbelief. “A baby, our baby.”

He brushes his lips against the top of your head as you drift off to sleep in his arms as he held you. His grip on you tightens. Buck will do anything for you. He would’ve probably killed Loki if he had the chance. He’s willing to risk everything if it means that you’re safe and protected. Now, it’s not just for you, it’s for your baby, too.

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