#they called themselves the jones girls after grace jones

[mariatesstruther]

teenage tommy miller playing drums in a literal garage band throughout junior year. all his bandmates are girls and sarah’s obsessed with them

[astra-galaxie]

I DID IT!! Here’s the whole thing copy pasted from Google docs!!

The Player’s general skills and implied personality + some stuff abt them! (as far as i can gather, at least, tell me if i missed smth!)

*Note that these skills do not include case specific stuff (like the time they discovered a new species in Pacific Bay)

-Exceptionally skilled at handling the forensic kit,in S1, Jones had challenged the player to uncrack a code while he recites the alphabet from A, and the player cracked the code just before he hit the letter F. It takes about a few seconds, so that says a lot.

-The player has freaky intuition skills in general. I mean, in quite literally every case, they figure out what evidence is needed, what could count as evidence, and searches through things most would gloss over. Their partners acknowledge this a lot, more in the first cases since they just met.

-Can keep a level head even in high stress or even dangerous situations even when their partners cant, whether its during or after the cases. Jones addressed this after court quite a few times in the first season. Also, the player’s able to calm down whoever thier with or

*Add on, in S4, while facing Cappechi & Finley for the first time, he managed to intimidate Isaac on both occasions, however, the player remained composed enough to be able to file evidence against them.

-Works out. In Good Girls dont die, a case in S1, while Grace tries to convince Martha to calm down, she states that the player has already kicked down the door. Like, kick. The player probably doesnt even have any special gear on them, so either the door is weak or, the more likely theory is that the player got dem legs frfr

-Has quite the memory. Easiest case to get this info from is during S4, in the case Eyes Wide Shut, player and Isaac identify a rice makeup composition on the item, Player can easily recall that 17 cases back, which give or take a few, is about a monthish? That Madam Xiang was wearing it. Mind you, at this stage in case Eyes Wide Shut, the duo had only spoken to Madam Xiang once, and she never mentioned the makeup.

-The Bureau themselves asked for the player to join them, that in itself is already a accomplishment, since the Bureau is like, the elite of the elite in the police world.

-Their temper seems to be much milder, or at least, more controlled. Its more evident with Frank and David (S1) since the chiefs often say the player is much calmer than them, hell, David got in trouble for being too brash and got so many complaints he had to file paperwork.

-They do indeed make mistakes, one of my friends irl kept saying the player was a Mary Sue esque kind, but in S3, they were also led on by the Warren guy after he framed the Guru, and they were kidnapped by Karen in S2. If they were so called ‘Mary Sues’, they’d probably figure out a way to not get captured and be the person whos left unscathed and babied by the team.

-Maybe a similar point, but they have sharp eyes and possibly very good eyesight. In a case with Jonah as a partner in S3 during one of the Additional Investigations, the player spots a tent from afar up a mountain. Not to mention its always them who finds everything lol

-The player is good at calming down their partners or whoever is working with them tbh. Like every time one of their case partners are loosing hope, breaking down, feeling impatient or angry, the player snaps them back to their senses.

-They arent quite up to date with some stuff, or simply put, most likely arent that geeky like Jones is, or probably that interested in acting and stuff, in S4 when Isaac asks them how they have no idea who Dolly Darnell (famous actress) and a famous chess master is. Personally would love to think they’d love to listen to their friends and team talk about certain personal interests of thiers.

-Most definitely has a good physique. In S2, Roxie comments that they fit perfectly into a diving suit, which is typically quite tight, so we can assume their physical health is in good or in its prime, in S7, Ben mentions the player has great reflexes for being able to dodge a chupabara attack.

-Can handle a gun better than the average policeman could, probably. In S4, they got into a gunfight with their team against Capecchi and his men, and the team won, so probably suggests that either the rest did most of the work, or the player is good enough to aim and shoot down a whole bunch of tough ahh men.

-Has better driving skills than Jones

-The chiefs often say the player is a rolemodel of what the rest of the team members should be, often, its Frank and Jones being reprimanded and being compared to the Player.

-Implied to be a pretty sarcastic and humorous person, whenever the person their working with for a case or a suspect makes a unfunny or less than tasteful joke, or just does smth weird in general, they always tell the player to ‘not look at them like that’

*Jones seems to be the one saying this the most, including Frank because he teases the player a lot as well.

-Patient. The cheifs say the player is patient, and im sure having Frank work with them would make their temper flare at leats three times in a single hour if the player wasnt a patient person.

-Knows how to handle and drag themselves + their team out of wallowing after a crisis. In S3, Ripley praises the player for being able to rise up after her ‘death’ so quickly, and solving her ‘death’ as well.

-Thier spice tolerence is off the charts, could bet money that they definitely could eat a few hot peppers and only complain of a bit of bite on their tongue. Even Rita admits their tolerance is higher and she’s tough as hell.

-Reliable adult, probably good or decent with children. They were the adult Matilda came running to (in Grimsborough S1) while her own parents were arguing. Jones said this as well when reprimanding the dad.

-My friend (yes the same one) keeps saying that the player would be homophobic?? What?? At least one of their core team members are gay as hell, cmon bruh

-Is most definately empathic and more adept at handling sensitive cases, whether by sensitive, its a matter of whether the press gets ahold and it could be bad, or its sensitive like family and personal matters get involved. When their partners make a distasteful comment or joke, no matter how mild, the player is implied to have told them off (ahem, Jones, Frank and Roxie)

-Good at undercover work, its shows in S4 during the last district, does the S4 part where they have to break Florence Samuels out with Rose count?

-They solve cases within the day or in a few hours, the latest they’ve ever finished a case was in the evening and then again, the player had only started on it in the afternoon.

-A kind person in general. I mean, for one, if i was a homicide investigator and every time i do an investigation, multiple people want my help?? I’d bail, nuh uh. AND not to mention, its time consuming bc theres always the need for analysis, and with sometimes, personal and professional problems get mixed up halfway.

-They most definitely have the money to live comfortably, they have the money to take James Savage for shopping for a new funeral suit and outfit, and they recieve so much spare cash from suspects during the AI.

-I feel like they probably have a good fashion sense, but on that point, can we talk about their closet size?? They get so many articles of clothing, they would definitely be the kind to overdress on every occasion and still look fabulous.

-I would not be surprised if its end up being revealed that they were a reformed thief or some wild shit like that, how does a rookie officer know how to crack a lock in seconds??

-Do you guys think their banned from being the seeker whenever the office decides to play hide and seek because their so good at finding stuff? Like, the last time they were the seeker they probably caught everyone in less than 30 minutes or some shit

-In addition to that helping people shit, the player’s either just energetic in general or their ass is running on coffee and pure willpower because i CANNOT do what their doing, their partners dont even stay consistent throughout the entire AI, and sometimes, in the official investigation itself

-Player’s a positive influence on the people around them, and this prob my nth time mentioning them, but JONES AND FRANK!! Grace says at the end of S1 that the Player’s influenced them positively a lot, and Karen says that as well abt Player’s influence on Frank.

-More on the energy thing, they work overtime so often im surprised they havent asked for a raise or something (then again, the chiefs probably automatically gave them one anyways, maybe even more)

-Not afraid of them high rankers!! S4 for example, no matter how many times Commisioner Baldwin threatened them, they are not afraid, gives 0 fucks, did not gaf even tho Andrea told them to leave Jazz Town before the hurricane kills them

-Player def got a strong stomach and do not care about getting ther hands dirty, they’ve seen so many dead bodies in the most gruesome settings possible, and they dig through trash every case, they have definitely seen…stuff. Oh yeah, they’ve seen so much raunchy and sexual stuff I don’t think they’d be too fazed anymore.

-Offically, including the S4, S6 and S7 cases, they’ve solved 370 cases in their entire career, including a cold case in S5, maybe indirectly, a few more in S5 due to the Rocket Cow killer being discovered, and a few more side murders due to how many serial killers they’ve arrested, so the victims get justice.

-They get offered or are the ones paying the first round for drinks quite a lot, so I’d assume that either they dont drink at all, or they can hold their alcohol well.

-Has gained fame as both as a detective world wide and citywide, AND in Pacific Bay as a co owner of a movie and had their cases featured in another movie! I’d assume their movies are out by S3 or by S5.

-Magic hands, anything damaged can get so well repaired its like it was never broken, or the partners and the suspects are just trying to make the player not feel bad lol

-They seem to not mind… leftovers, or anything that is edible but looks or taste unappealing… I mean, if we get a burger everytime a prisoner gives up their prison slop to the player, does that imply they ate it no problemo??

Sidenote: it feels like I’m putting the player on a pedestal at some parts… I assure you I’m not trying to 🥲🥲

Sorry, it took so long for me to answer this! I FINALLY found the time to sit down, read and react to it!

And to start this off: HOLY SHIT!😲 (I mean this in the best way possible!)

(Live footage of me giving this post as much love as possible. Yes, I am secretly an alien gremlin!😉)

I'm going to try to go through each section at a time, so prepare for a long post!

-Sometimes, I wonder if anyone else has training when it comes to the forensic kit... I remember Jack claiming to be a pro at the vacuum tool, but we NEVER see him use it! Or any of our partners, for that matter!🙄

-It wouldn't surprise me if the player was psychic! Or at least partly! I don't think I've seen anyone make a psychic player OC yet, but it would be an interesting concept!

-After everything the player has seen, even just in the first season alone, it's no surprise they know how to keep their cool!

(At least Isaac got more confident at dealing with Finley! Though we can't blame him for being scared of Mad Dog!)

-Kicking down a door is no easy task! (Not that I've ever tried it.) So the player must try to keep themself in shape! And clearly, they don't skip leg day!🦾🦿

-I wish I had the player's memory sometimes... My working memory is slowly going downhill! And yeah, remembering something as minor as someone wearing rice makeup from months ago is impressive! Esapiclly considering everything that's happened between the cases!

-I have the theory that if CC had continued, we would have been recruited into the GIA or another secret spy agency like we were for the Bureau! After all, their resume would be as impressive as it is long!

-Some characters could learn from the player and their ability to control their temper... (*cough* Frank *cough*)

-I can see where your friend got the "Mary Sue" idea from. The player is constantly being praised for their work, but they still make mistakes and learn from them, like you said!

-Forget 20/20 vision; the player has the best eyes in the world! They must be the champion in Eye Spy and Hidden Object games!

-If the player ever decided to change careers, they could be a therapist! Or an anger management coach!

-With how busy the player is, it's unsurprising they don't have time to be up-to-date with some things...

As for the S4 thing, I like the idea of the player being from away and not knowing about Concordian celebrities, unlike their partners!

-In conjunction with the strength one, the player must take care of themself by eating well (ignoring all the free hamburgers they get...) and staying active!

-I think it's stated that the team worked together to defeat Capecchi and his men, but the player obviously knows how to handle a gun in order to stand their ground against them!

-Well, Jones did crash at least once that we know of, unlike the player...😉

-With how good the player is implied to be, I bet they would win employee of the month every month! Move over, Sponge Bob! We've got a new champ in town!

-Sometimes, I wish we had dialogue options just to see the jokes and witty remarks the player could make!

-The player must have the patience of a saint to put up with some of the people and things they have to deal with!

-For the amount of shit they find themself in, the player knows a thing or two about how to get out of it and drag others out with them!

-Given that Rita looked like she was on fire while eating the salsa, the player either has a steal tongue or no feeling in it to handle eating all that spice!

-I like to think the player is good with children too. After all, almost every time we meet a child in the game, they seem to love the player!

-I can't see how your friend came to the homophobic conclusion either! The player works with several LGBTQ+ teammates and interacts with even more LGBTQ+ characters outside the teams! Are we sure they played the same CC game?

-The player is one of the game's most empathetic people. Even after so much death and pain, they still are. And they know how to stay professional when working on a sensitive case.

-I'd count it as evidence of them being good at undercover work! They're also constantly undercover in S6 and manage to fool nearly everyone they meet!

-I've always wondered about the timeline for solving a case... I swear they finish every case within a shift! I think the only one I canonly recall taking more than a day was Anatomy of Murder when Jones talks about reading his book before bed during chapters 2&1 (I think...).

-The player has a heart of gold, and it's a miracle they still do by the end of the series!✨

-They must be LOADED! But if people keep giving them free money on top of their job income, it's no surprise they probably don't have to worry about money!

-With all the clothes and accessories they get throughout the series, they could have a whole floor in their house dedicated to their closet! Hopefully, they donate anything they no longer want.

-A common theme among OC players is that they always have a secret past! I'm sure someone must have made one with a past as a thief or something to help explain how they're so good at picking locks!

-Agreed. They are only allowed to participate in hide-and-go-seek by being the timekeeper.

-The player must live off of coffee, energy drinks, or SOMETHING to be so energetic! I know I wouldn't be so excited to do extra work by helping people after solving a murder! I hope they get extended vacations to make it even!

-Player, spreading positivity wherever they go!✨

-They better get paid WELL for everything they do for their job, teammates, cities and citizens!

-They've got nerves of steel and the bravery of a god to stand up against so much higher authority! They've even talked back to royalty before, too!

-For how often they search through the trash, they either have no sense of smell or the strongest stomach in the world!

-The player's case record is unbeatable! And they solved all those cases in under a decade, according to the undefined timeline!

-I think the drink thing stopped after S2 (or at least I don't remember it happening as much after that season), but they are still often invited for drinks one way or another!

-I'll never know how they weren't recognized in S7, given how famous they are! For changing to such a secret job when they joined the supernatural hunters, it's a surprise they weren't recognized! Especially considering we run into past characters!🤔

-The player is probably the first person people go to after breaking something! We'll never know how they manage to fix things so perfectly! Unless they really ARE magic!🤔

-The player never does say no to free food... Even when they really should! How they never got food poisoning (Jones flashback intensify) will remain a mystery!

-Don't worry; other characters put the player on a pedestal for us!😉

Phew! That was a workout! Hopefully, we didn't lose you guys!😅

I can tell you put a lot of work into this, so let me be the first to say good job!🥳✨

NOW TAKE A BREAK! You deserve it after creating this doc!

You captured a lot of the player's traits and successes! And I look forward to seeing what others think about your analysis! And if there's anything they think should be added! After all, it is always helpful to have some extra input!😊

[celiabowens]

underrated SFF books (YA and Adult)

So uhm, since I keep seeing the same books on my dash all the time (and I like them too, just...there’s more! to read!) here’s a list of less popular SFF books, divided into YA and Adult. I’ve tried to mention when there is lgbt rep and the trigger warnings. Also, books written by poc will be in bold. Please point out any typo or mistake or if I’ve forgotten specific rep/tw mentions.

All of these are books that I’ve read and enjoyed (by enjoyed I mean anything from 3 stars and above), but if anyone wants to add titles please feel free to do so!!

YA:

The Star-Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi: beautifully written, fairytale-like story rich in mythology (inspired by several Hindu myths. There’s a full list on goodreads indicated by the author herself). Roshani’s prose is gorgeous.

A Crown of Wishes by Roshani Chokshi: it’s a companion novel to The Star-Touched Queen, but both can be read as a standalone. I liked this one more than its companion and I particularly loved how the romance was written (slow burn, but specifically, the author really highlights the mutual respect between the characters, we love to see it).

The Young Elites by Marie Lu: fantasy trilogy set in a world inspired by Renaissance Italy, in which children who survived a mysterious and deadly illness ended up with strange and dangerous powers. Secret societies and a female villain!

The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu: historical fantasy following Mozart’s sister, Nannerl, a girl as talented as her brother, but afraid of being forgotten because of the lack of opportunities she has to be seen and heard. Nuanced sibling relationship, no romance.  

The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski: fantasy f/f romance! Both a coming of age story set in a society with a rigid class system and a slow burn f/f romance with a lot of banter. TW: abuse.

The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore: magical realism. The book follows two families of traveling performers that have been locked in a feud for over a generation. This was the author’s debut and I remember getting an arc of it and being impressed by both the prose and how the forbidden love trope was handled.

When the Moon was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore: another magical realism novel. One of the main characters is a trans boy and the book focuses on issues of racism and gender. One of my favorite YA!

Strange Grace by Tessa Gratton: fantasy romance set in a village that periodically sacrifices a young man in order to keep a deal with the devil that ensures their prosperity. Also, polyamorous and non-binary rep.

The Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee: first book in a duology following avatar Kyoshi’s life. It explores the political and cultural aspect of the Earth Kingdom and Kyoshi’s past. Bisexual rep.

Descendant of the Crane by Joan He: sort of a murder mystery fantasy, as the main character finds herself suddenly thrust into power once her father has been murdered. The story has a slow build up to a last part full of twists and machinations and it features lots of court intrigue. Warning: the ending is quite open and afaik there isn’t a sequel planned as of now.

The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones: a quite unique take on zombies influenced by Welsh mythology (it’s super cool). The novel follows Ryn and their siblings, as they try to get by after their parents’ death by working as gravediggers. Only well, the dead don’t always stay dead. The characters read a bit younger than they are imo. There is chronic pain rep.

The Magnolia Sword by Sherry Thomas: retelling of the original ballad of Mulan. The book follows Mulan, who’s trained her whole life to win a duel for a priceless heirloom, as she joins the army. There’s a lot of political and historical details, which I really appreciated. Do not go into it expecting a fun adventure though. The descriptions of war aren’t extremely graphic, but be aware of the fact that most of the book is set during a conflict.

The Candle and The Flame by Nafiza Azad: standalone fantasy set in a city on the Silk Road! It’s a quite slow-paced tale about love, family and politics. It has lush descriptions of landscapes and cultures (and FOOD, there are some really great descriptions of food). It’s a very atmospheric book and while I struggled a bit with the pace I’d still recommend it.

Forest of a Thousand Lanters by Julie C. Dao: sort of an East Asian inspired retelling of Snow White, but following the Evil Queen before she became Snow White’s stepmother. I honestly haven’t read its sequel (which should focus on Snow White herself), but I do think this can be read and enjoyed as a standalone too.

The Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner: it’s hard to point out exactly what this series is about because it has evolved so much with time. It starts out as classic quest/adventure series with The Thief (which may seem a classic and simple book, but is actually full of foreshadowing and has a really clever set up), but develops into a complex and intriguing political fantasy in The Queen of Attolia and The King of Attolia (and then goes back to the quest theme in book 5, Thick as Thieves).

Adult:

A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers by Alyssa Wong: I’m cheating with this one because it’s technically a short story but I love Alyssa Wong’s stories so I’m putting it here anyway. It can be read for free and you should just...read it.

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang: grimdark fantasy (TW: abuse, self harm, rape, drug abuse), inspired by Chinese history. It’s adult, but follows younger MCs and the unique blend of different historical periods/inspirations makes it extremely interesting. The characters are extremely fucked up in the best possible way, plus the use of shamanism is awesome. Please make sure you check all the TW before reading.

The Sword of Kaigen by M.L. Wang: a Japanese-inspired militaristic fantasy, with elemental magic, a badass housewife dealing with her past and hiding a sword in her kitchen’s floor. It has interesting and nuanced family dynamics and a great reflection on propaganda and the use of narratives.

Empire of Sand by Tasha Suri: first book in an epic fantasy duology inspired by Mughal India (TW: abuse, slavery). I really liked both Empire of Sand and its companion and I find them pretty underrated. Both books have great slow burn romance (with a focus on mutual trust and respect) and focus on culture, religion, self acceptance and politics.

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia: a fantasy bildungsroman set in Mexico during the Jazz age. It’s a great approach to adult SFF as it follows a young girl on a life changing adventure. It features Mayan mythology and a god slowly becoming human (this trope is everything!).

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden: a coming of age story inspired by Russian folklore. The trilogy as a whole has one of the best arcs I’ve ever seen: each book is perfectly self-contained and has its own arc, but also fits perfectly in the bigger picture of the trilogy. The atmosphere is amazing, the cast of characters is extremely well developed. Also frost demons are better than men.

The Binding by Bridget Collins: historical fantasy, but with very minimal fantasy elements. It’s set in a world vaguely reminiscent of 19th century England. I’d say this book is about humans and self discovery. It’s about cowardice and the lies we tell ourselves and those we wish we could tell ourselves. Gay rep. (TW: abuse, sexual assault, pretty graphic suicide scene).

The Divine Cities trilogy by Robert Jackson Bennett: starting with City of Stairs, it follows a female diplomat and spymaster(!!). The whole trilogy features an interesting discussion about godhood, religion, fanatism, politics, without ever being boring or preachy. It has complex and rich world building and a pretty compelling mystery.

Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett: heist fantasy following a thief as she’s hired to steal a powerful artifact that may change magical technology as she knows it. Set in a Venice-like merchant city. Also, slow burn f/f romance.

Jade City by Fonda Lee: sort of a gangster urban fantasy, heavily inspired by wuxia and set in an Asian-inspired metropolis. It follows a pretty big cast of characters, each with their own journey and development. It features nuanced family dynamics and a lot of political and economical subplots. Not extremely prominent, but book 2 features m/m side rep.

Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse: inspired by Native American culture and specifically by the idea of subsequent worlds. It has a kickass MC and a good mix of original elements and typical UF tropes. TW: the book isn’t extremely violent but there is death and some gore.

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine: space opera inspired by the Mexica and middle period Byzantium. It focuses on topics like colonialism and the power of narratives and language. It has one of the best descriptions of what it’s like to live in between spaces I’ve ever read. Also very interesting political intrigue and has a slow burn f/f romance (and a poly relationship recalled through flashbacks). I ranted a lot about it already.

Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee: a Korean-inspired space opera with a magic system based on math. It’s honestly quite convoluted and difficult to follow, but it also features some of the best political intrigue I’ve ever read. Plenty of lying, backstabbing and mind games. It also features lesbian and bisexual rep and an aroace side character (TW: mass shooting, sexual assault, abuse). I also really recommend Yoon Ha Lee’s short-story collection Conservation of Shadows.

The long way to a small angry planet by Becky Chambers: character driven space opera featuring a found family journeying through space. A fun read, that also deals with topics such as sexuality and race. Quite easy to go through, as the world building and plot aren’t particularly complex themselves. f/f romance.  

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo: an Asian-inspired fantasy novella that gives a voice to people usually silenced by history. It follows a cleric (non binary rep) as they chronicle the story of the late empress, retold through objects that she used in her life. It focuses on bonds between women and the power that lies in being unnoticed. f/f side rep.

The Black God’s Drums by P. Djèlí Clark: an urban fantasy novella, based on Orisha mythology and set in an alternate, sort of steampunk, New Orleans. I really like how creative Clark’s worlds are and how good he is at writing female characters (which rarely happens with male authors).

The haunting of tram car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark: novella set in an alternate steampunk Cairo populated by supernatural entities. It’s set in the same world of a Dead Djinn in Cairo, which is a short story you can read for free.

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: epistolary novella set during a time-travel war. It has gorgeous writing and an amazing f/f romance. As a novella, it’s quite short but it’s beautifully crafted and so complex for such a short book!

The Citadel of Weeping Pearls by Aliette de Bodard: a novella set in the Xuya universe (a series of novellas/short stories set in a timeline where Asia became dominant, and where the space age has empires of Vietnamese and Chinese inspiration), but can be read as a standalone. It’s a space opera featuring a disappeared citadel and the complex relationship between the empress and her daughter as war threatens her empire.

One for My Enemy by Olivie Blake: self-published urban fantasy following two rival families in New York. Sort of a Romeo and Juliette retelling but with gangster families and magic. Honestly recommend all of her books, I love how Olivie writes and especially how she writes female characters.

[childrenofthenightt]

only the black rose (chapter 4)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: bordering on nsfw, a little fluff, and yet another pretentious description of a zep song :)

words: 3.9k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: i blushed countless times writing this chapter. also things are heating up folks!!! not beta’d as always! hope you enjoy!

masterlist

playlist

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

----------

The dressing room of the Rotterdam Ahoy was certainly not a palace of luxury, with its plush navy couches and line of chairs pushed against the wall, next to a long folding table packed tight with refreshments. A full-length mirror sits in the corner, casting refractions of faint yellow light onto the off-white brick walls. John Bonham lounges on the loveseat, drumming out an intricate rhythm on his knees, brown eyes far away as he stares off into the distance. John Paul Jones perches on the chair nearest to the door, strumming a tune reminiscent of rockabilly on a beautiful mandolin, nodding his head to keep the beat.

Looking up, Jonesy spots Jimmy across from him, occupying the couch next to Bonzo. Jimmy is tuning up his acoustic guitar, no doubt the precious gift he had received just days before. Every so often, Jimmy would pause in his focused tuning to shift in his seat with a wince, stretching out, before finally resuming.

“You okay, Pagey?”

“...Hm?” Jimmy grunts out, concentration stolen completely by the beautiful guitar in his hands. Heavenly notes swirling around the small room, mixing seamlessly with the sharp harmonies of the mandolin. Jimmy did always preach about unity, after all.

“Are you okay? You keep wincing, and you’ve shifted in your seat about 20 times in the past two minutes.”

“My back is a little sore, I must have slept in an odd position. Nothing serious.” This is punctuated by a crackle as Jimmy stretches once more.

“Well, you did have a nice pillow though, didn’t you?”

“Jonesy—”

“I hope you know that Robert has pictures, Jim.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Bonzo chuckles, popping the P, and smirking at the man across from him, who has finally stopped plucking the strings of the guitar. Jimmy wrings his hands together, stopping only to thumb at his nose. “No need to be nervous, Page. I’m sure he’ll only show a couple of them at the wedding, which reminds me. We need to know her ring preferences. Stones are important to girls, or something.”

“He took more than one? Wait… Rings? We’re not… I’ve known her for like, 5 days! Marriage? She doesn’t even like me like—”

“Who’s getting married?” Layla questions, voice floating through the open door as she walks in, arm in arm with Robert, who is sporting a cheshire grin. The blond sends a subtle wink at Jimmy, strolling further into the room.

“Layla, quick question.”

“Oh no. Should I be scared?”

“Only a little bit.” Jonesy cuts in, chuckling at the helpless look on Jimmy’s face.

“Bonzo, I-I really don’t think—”

“Pagey, shush,” Bonzo interrupts the guitarist, who splutters, dumbfounded at the exchange taking place. He moves to stop Bonzo from speaking, but Bonzo shoves him back onto the couch behind him, Jimmy landing with a huff. “Now, birdie… What is your favourite gemstone?”

“Garnet. Do I want to know what this is about?”

“Probably not.”

“Great. Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve got to go find Peter, he wanted to talk to me about something,” Layla drawls, a smile just evident in the slight curl of her lips, painted a pretty pink in the artificial light of the room. She catches Jimmy staring her way, and her smile grows wider, taking in the stunned expression on his features.  “I just thought it would be a good idea to rescue Robert from the horde of groupies that had him surrounded first.”

“Very smart. It would be rather hard to play without our frontman. Unless… Bonzo, how quickly can we get Coverdale in here?”

“Jonesy, I’m hurt. You know my voice is better than his.”

“Every single day, I am astounded at how humble you are, Robert. Truly brings a tear to my eye.” Layla laughs, turning towards the door, when a soft voice pipes up from behind her, paired with the sound of footsteps, muffled by the carpet under their feet.

“Mind if I join you, petal?”

A soft smile graces the woman’s lips at the sound of Jimmy’s dulcet voice, and she turns around to face him. Gazing up at him almost shyly, she nods, and they walk out together, Jimmy’s arm comforting around the woman’s shoulders. As they exit the dressing room, Robert pokes his head out, a mischievous smile growing slowly.

“Use protection, you two. Can’t have any little Page-Porters running around the venue.” Before the duo could retort, Robert retreats into the dressing room once more, his golden curls and the sound of his cackle following. Embarrassment colouring his face, Jimmy releases his hold on Layla, but is stopped by a hand at his wrist. Forest green and golden brown meet once more as she nods lightly. Jimmy, confident that Layla is comfortable with his touch, wraps his arm around her shoulders once more, as they walk through the venue in search of Peter Grant.

“For a man of his stature, I hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to find him.” Jimmy laughs, which causes Layla to look at the man. His laugh may just be one of her favourite sounds, she thinks. Jimmy, sensing Layla’s eyes on him, looks down at the woman, whose head dips shyly, so different from the sassy exterior she lets people see. He lets his gaze linger, taking in the unruly chestnut ringlets that frame her tanned face perfectly. Her brown eyes hold unimaginable depths, and he is frightened by how often he gets lost in them. Her lips, the colour of lovely flowers in the bright morning light, are bitten cherry red out of nerves. Layla looks up at him then, and instead of shying away, this time he holds her gaze.

“Jim, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course petal. Ask away.”

“I’m just… a little curious,” Layla says, smiling as she stares right back, biting her lip for an entirely different reason now. “Why exactly do you call me petal?”

“Because I can make you blush the colour of a rose in bloom.”

“...That was so cheesy. I hope you know that, Jimmy,” Layla says, a giddy laugh bubbling out past her lips. “You know, I need a nickname for you now, so we’re even.”

“Oh, is that right, petal?”

“It is, actually. How about… angel? I mean, just look at that face.”

Jimmy’s breath hitches, audible even through the bustle of pre-show preparations. His free hand moves up to scratch at his neck once more, a nervous tick, of which he has many, that Layla is now accustomed to. Recovering quickly, Jimmy smirks, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Actually, petal, I think I might be a devil in disguise, but that’s something for you to figure out.”

“Right, because a devil would definitely check up on me, and help me when I was drunk out of my mind, and make me morning coffee exactly the way I like it.”

Knowing he’s been beat, Jimmy’s gaze falls to his feet, suddenly very interested in a particularly deep scuff mark. Layla chances a look at the man, and smiles softly at his reaction. Stepping in front of him, she puts a hand to his shoulder, wiping off imaginary dust from his shirt. His eyes follow her fingers, which finally land on his chin, lifting his head to face her. Layla moves in closer, tucking the hair falling into his face behind his ear.

“I appreciate your help trying to find Peter, but you have a show to get ready for, don’t you, angel?”

“I—”

He is interrupted by the whisper of soft lips brushing his cheek, and the fading scent of the woman’s perfume as she slips past him.

“Damn, she’s good…”

----------

Maneuvering through the maze-like hallways of the arena, Layla finally spots Peter, who is in deep conversation with a stage-hand, back turned to her. Moving closer, she can hear snippets of conversation detailing stage lights and lasers, and she wonders just what she had gotten into. Peter, hearing the padding of Layla’s footsteps approaching, finally turns around, grinning the moment he sees her.

“Layla! I’d like to speak with you for a moment, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, Peter! In fact, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Layla exclaims, falling into step with Peter as they trek through the long hallways once more. “You had said you wanted to talk to me earlier?”

“Right, yes. You had expressed interest in helping out in the wings during the tour,”  Peter says, leading the woman with a paternal hand at the small of her back, ensuring she doesn't get lost once again. “But I was wondering if you had wanted to maybe experience this show in the audience? I only ask, because the experience is much different from the crowd, and I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”

“I would love to, Peter, but if you do need help…”

“Go have fun, dear. A front-row view at a Led Zeppelin show doesn’t come very often, after all.”

“Thank you so much, Peter!”

“It’s my pleasure, Layla. Now, we’ll be on in about 30 minutes, so we better get you to your seats sooner rather than later.”

Peter riffles through the pockets of his blazer and produces a rectangular piece of paper, no doubt the tickets themselves. Layla is led to an usher, and Peter, with a wink and a smile, turns on his heel, walking away, no doubt to check on his boys. The usher leads her onto the floor, right in front of the stage. Layla thanks them, a gleaming smile making her glow.

The venue is already packed to the brim, and with a glance behind her, Layla spots an ocean of faces, eyes glued to the stage in anticipation. At the sight of this, Layla can’t help but reciprocate these feelings.

“Hell,” Layla mutters under her breath, shaking her head lightly. “I’ve seen them play in the studio… How much better could it get than that?”

In the relative darkness of the large room, she can see shadows moving out from the stage wings, the hollers of the crowd growing deafening.

Here we go.

A booming voice erupts out from the speakers scattered around the stage.  Layla can’t help but join in, letting out some cheers of her own, wide smile nearly splitting her cheeks.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Led Zeppelin!”

A soft click cuts through the sea of white noise like a knife, and the stage is illuminated by a giant sign reading, ‘Led Zeppelin’ in bold, lit letters, which ignites the flame of excitement once more. A smug look passes between them and the band starts to play, catching the audience off guard. Bonzo’s sharp drumming serves as a count-in for Jimmy and Jonesy, their combined excellence creating a solid wall of pure sound, only penetrated by Robert’s masterful wails. Jimmy, gleaming in a suit accented with shining panels of silver, looks absolutely decadent, enraptured by the music he is playing. The chorus sounds, echoing slightly, across the great sea of faces, who are relentless in their fiery adrenaline. Robert glides across the stage, singing as if the crowd were snakes and he was a charmer, entrancing them with his stage presence and golden voice.

“It's been a long time, been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely... time.”

Finally, the last notes fizzle out, Jimmy improvising a run under the blanket of unity courtesy of the rhythm section, and the crowd’s screams grow thunderous, a reward for the incredible first song. This trend remained throughout the entirety of the concert, every song fueling the fire.

Layla is completely in awe, eyes blinking rapidly in hopes of comprehending exactly what she had just witnessed. She had known exactly how talented every one of them was, she had seen it just days ago when they had played in the studio, but what she hadn't anticipated, was just how much the stage lights and the crowd brought them to life. They looked holy, faces painted with pure concentration and confidence. Throughout the show, she couldn't help but hang on to Jimmy’s every move. Up there on stage, bliss apparent in the uptick of his rosy lips and eyes full of ecstasy, he was hypnotising, beautiful strong fingers tickling the fretboard in hopes of squeezing ethereal notes from it. The woman wonders what it would be like; for the guitarist to touch her like that. To make her whimper like the guitar he manipulates every night. She wonders what it would be like to touch unmarked, alabaster skin, to bury her fingers in jet black hair as perfect, pink lips rock her world. The touch of callused fingers making her skin tingle and hum and burn in euphoria.

“Layla, you’re going to start bleeding if you keep biting your lip like that. Are you alright, my dear?”

Looking up abruptly, Layla is met by the whiskered face of Peter Grant, smiling softly as he looks down at her. She shakes her head to banish the illicit thoughts, curls flying wildly about her head.

“I’m… Peter, that was incredible!”

“Why don't we sneak you backstage so you can tell the boys what you think?” Peter says, smirking at the astonished face of the young woman in front of him. “They've been asking about you ever since they got off stage.”

“Lead the way!”

The two make their way to the dressing rooms, idle chat between Layla and Peter the soundtrack. Walking through the dressing room doors, she sees the boys facing away from her, celebrating a job well done. Robert is reclined on the couch, two beautiful blondes on each side getting his full attention. Bonzo and Jonesy are chatting in the corner of the room, sipping on bottles of whatever liquor they could find. Jimmy stands alongside them, laughing softly, dimples rising on his cheeks. In the harsh light of the dressing room, the sweat dripping from Jimmy’s body makes him glow, and Layla can’t help but stare.

“Boys, it seems we have a guest.”

Four pairs of eyes lock on her, and she smiles winningly, the beginnings of a giggle bubbling up her throat.

“Excuse me, ladies,” says Robert, as he extricates himself from the arms of the blondes, smiling apologetically. “But I really must greet the little dove.”

Immediately, arms surrounding the young woman, and as bad as the boys smelled, impressively sweaty after such a wonderful show, she was too excited to care. Pulling back finally, she gives her friends a megawatt smile.

“Guys, that was… That was truly amazing! I don’t know how you did it,” exclaims Layla, hands flying every which way to prove her point. “But you completely exceeded my expectations! I thought your little studio performance was excellent, but… This!”

“Wow, Layla. You’ve got such a way with words.” Jonesy jokes, putting an arm around the woman, leading her into the post-performance chaos. Bonzo pours her a shot glass full of something unidentifiable, vodka perhaps, and Layla tips it back quickly. Liquid courage firmly in place, she catches Jimmy’s eye. Wrestling out of Jonesy’s arms, Layla struts over to the raven-haired man and guides him to the corner of the room, a small hand slipping into his.

“Petal—”

“Shush!  Jim, that performance was… I don’t know what to say! Everyone had a great show, of course, but your guitar,” Layla rambles, speaking so quickly that the guitarist can barely hang on to a word the woman is saying. “... And Stairway. Oh my god, I don’t think I looked away once during the whole song! And—”

“Layla—”

“... Communication Breakdown ended way too soon, but the way you moved your fingers so quickly across the fretboard. I just don’t even—”

“Petal, please calm—”

This time, Jimmy isn’t interrupted by the ranting woman, but rather a set of slightly chapped lips on his, and a soft hand cradling his cheek, the other a warm weight on his shoulder. Layla is… kissing him. As soon as he makes this discovery, the lips against his turn down into a slight frown, and begin to pull away. Frantic at the thought of Layla pulling back, Jimmy brings a hand to her face, the other threading through her unruly curls to land at the back of her head. Deepening the chaste kiss, Jimmy’s eyes close. If he had been less preoccupied, he would have seen Bonzo, phone in hand, calling home in hopes of talking to his lovely wife. He would have seen Jonesy, laughing and pressing ever-closer to a beautiful brunette, a hand pushing back her long wavy locks. He would have seen Robert walking closer with a smirk set on his lips.

Jimmy finally pulls away, staring deep into Layla’s chestnut eyes, glazed over slightly as she blinks back at him, lips a luscious red from the heated kiss. Jimmy opens his mouth to speak, but another voice beats him to the punch.

“Goodness, little dove, if I knew you were handing out kisses like that for a good performance, I would’ve walked off before Jimmy. Hell, I’d’ve shoved him to get to you.”

Layla scoffs at the blond’s words, her hands twined around the guitarist’s neck. “Sorry, blondie, I’m not handing those out to just anyone. Besides, don't you have two beautiful blondes looking to take a bite out of you?”

“Ah, you're right, little dove. Excuse me, but I must get going.” Robert says with a wink, strolling back over to the two women.

Layla looks back at Jimmy, to find him staring at her. They remain there, gazes locked on one other, until Jimmy finally looks away, scanning the room.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private, hm?” Jimmy whispers, taking Layla’s hand in his and leading her out the door.

Walking through the maze of hallways, hand in hand, Layla is struck by the parallels of the last time her and Jimmy were here. Only this time, she hadn’t just kissed him on the cheek. Her cheeks flush a dark scarlet at the thought as she is pulled into a deserted room, hand still linked with Jimmy’s own.

“Layla, I…”

“That was…”

The couple speak in unison, nerves taking over. Jimmy takes a deep breath, gripping Layla’s hands tightly in his, as he looks down at her, green eyes twinkling like stars in the midnight sky.

“Are you,” He starts, clearing his throat as he gazes down at Layla, who is looking up at him in reverence, reminiscent of the look she had given him on the plane. “Are you okay, petal? You don’t seem like the kind of person to just… kiss someone like that.”

“Honestly? Angel, I’ve been thinking of doing that for a while. Since the moment I first saw you, really.”

“Well… The feeling is mutual, but I mean… I think we should talk about this.”

“Jimmy Page, always the pragmatist.”

The man chuckles, smirking at the woman, places a hand beside her head on the wall, leaning in close. “Hey, you’ve never complained about it before, so why start now?”

“Maybe I did, behind your back. You would have no way of knowing, would you?” Layla says, a sweet smile on her lips as she bats her eyelashes; the image of false innocence.

Jimmy smiles at the woman, until it slips off his face, his downcast eyes troubled. He reaches up a hand to thumb lightly at his nose, and she realizes that he’s nervous. Tilting his head up with a finger at his chin, she meets his eyes.

“Jim, what’s wrong? Did… Did you not like it? The kiss, I mean?” Jimmy startles at this, quick to reassure her with a hand at her cheek, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles along her cheekbone.

“Of course I liked it, petal. How could I not? I just… I want to do this right, Layla.”

“Mhm.” Layla hums, moving closer to the man, smirking softly at the nervousness that plagues the guitarist.

“You’re not just… You’re not just some groupie to me, y’know?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t want this to be just a one night stand, or… or a fling, or a friends with benefits situation, Layla. I want you.”

“Right.”

“I think we should take this slow, and see where… When did you get so close to me?”

Layla leans forward, placing a peck on his lips, and pulls away, leaving him stunned. He shakes his head, and tries again, brow furrowing in determination. “Layla, I’m serious, I really—”

This is met by yet another peck of the lips. Jimmy opens his mouth to speak, trying once more, but he is thwarted by yet another sweet kiss. Finally giving in, Jimmy deepens the kiss, hands landing in her hair. He spins them around, and crowds Layla against the wall, pulling back briefly, which elicits a soft whine from the brunette.

“Jimmy—”

“Are you okay with this, petal?”

“... Get over here.”

She pulls him in once again, and they resume where they left off. Jimmy laps at the opening of Layla’s bottom lip, asking for entrance, and his request is granted. The couple battles for dominance, their hands roaming anywhere they could reach. Jimmy’s palm slides down to rest at her back, dangerously close to slipping lower. Layla smiles against his lips, and pulls away, breathing heavily. She presses one more breathless kiss to Jimmy’s lips, and smiles widely, taking in the man before her. His hair is a mess, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are locked onto hers, searching her face with a hint of a smile. She wants this to work; for them to work.

“Angel, I want to take this slow too. I don’t want to lose you to someone else, just because we rushed this. I do, however, hope we can still kiss like that on the regular.”

“We’ll see, petal.” Jimmy laughs, winding a familiar arm around her shoulders, as he presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Oh, how the tables have turned… I’m usually the one dishing out cheek kisses.”

“That may just have to change, then.”

“Be careful, I could very well just go and find Robert right now. You know, maybe I'll go steady with him instead…”

Laughter follows behind them like a shadow as they walk back to the dressing room to find the rest of their crew. Jimmy’s arm still rests around the shoulders of the woman, and as they enter, the band take in the disheveled state of the couple.  

“Oh my god—”

“Come on, boys, we have a plane to catch!”

“Actually, Pagey,” Jonesy interjects, smiling at the couple, eyebrows waggling. “We still have a few minutes. What happened while you were gone?”

“Did you guys, like… have a quickie in the custodial closet or something?”

“God, Bonzo, we—”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Bonham.” Layla interjects, kind smile cutting through the sarcasm of her response. Bonzo smiles back, clapping Layla on the shoulder. Robert pouts playfully, curls bouncing as he lowers his head slightly.

“That should have been me…”

Peter chooses this moment to walk in, alerting them that it’s finally time to leave. One taxi ride later, everybody piles into the Starship, making themselves comfortable. Jimmy and Layla take a spot on the comfortable loveseat, and fall asleep right away, leaning up against one another.

If they wake up, backs sore once again, it’s worth it to them.

----------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 (let me know if you want to be added!)

[chaosride]

A Divine Appointment (x7)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

“You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance.” — Franklin P. Jones

Their next weekly Wicked Grace night was interesting. Anders had tried to beg off with the reasoning of not wanting to leave the kids alone all night at the clinic, and Varric had easily told him to bring the kids with him. Anders had expected Norah to run them off, as the owner had made it clear that the Hanged Man was a place for drinking and gambling. However that night Norah had just waved them through towards the stairs to Varric’s quarters. At Anders’ questioning look, Norah shrugged.

“New management,” was all she told him.

It was really all the explanation needed; the Hanged Man changed hands so often between the shadier figures of Kirkwall’s underground that they were under new management every other week it seemed. It was something that made Varric rhapsodize about how the Hanged Man deserved a better owner, someone who knew what they were doing and deserved her. It was no secret that the someone the dwarf had in mind was himself. Anders hoped he wouldn’t be too irritable about it tonight- it made him ruthless in cards.

Varric, however, was cheerful as ever when they got to his room. Hawke, Fenris and Isabela were already there. Aveline was going to come later after her patrol and had asked to bring Donnic along. They chatted as Anders settled at the table with them, allowing the twins to sit in his lap when neither would tolerate being put down. He rolled his eyes as Isabela cooed at them but allowed Cahir to go to her regardless. Primarily because he knew who the boy was really wanting to go to. He chuckled when Isabela called Cahir a traitor when he immediately began squirming in her hold, trying to get to Fenris. The elf let out a very put upon sigh but he was smiling when he took Cahir from her.

“You are very determined, I’ll give you that,” Fenris told Cahir.

The boy had settled down once in Fenris’ lap. Anders determinedly did not stare at them together; Cahir was skittish and didn’t like to be held by many people. He sought out even fewer as actively as he went to Fenris anytime the warrior was around. The sight of them made Anders want things to be different, despite the fact that he had more than he ever expected to. So instead he determinedly pulled the tie free from Cat’s hair and rebraided her curly red hair so it was away from her little face. Anders had learned if he didn’t she would pull at it until it came out in clumps in her small fists.

The mage had worried that the kids would get bored, but he supposed he should have known better. The entire group had learned to sit still and entertain themselves in order to avoid unneeded attention. Even the twins, young as they were, seemed to have learned it, sitting quietly with them at the table and watching them play with curious eyes. Tanner, Rosalyn and Bree had settled on the open stretch of floor a little away from the table, talking quietly amongst themselves as they played some game they had created with pebbles Tanner had produced from his pocket. Raelnor had sat with them at the table at Hawke’s merry invitation for him to join the game.

Anders had thought the entire walk over that he should bring something for them to do but he didn’t have anything. At the clinic they normally chased each other around or played games together but unlike other children they didn’t get loud or unruly without his attention on them really. The older of the kids had become quite adept at entertaining their younger siblings when no adults were around to mind the toddlers, and with them occupied were happy to sit quietly together all evening.

In the end they hadn’t even made it through an entire round before it clearly bothered Varric too much to continue. He laid his cards down despite it being his turn and stood up.

“Y’know, I got a cousin who owns a toy shop, I’m sure I’ve got some of his stuff around here,” he had said.

To anyone who didn’t know him, it would have been a convincing lie but Anders knew there wasn’t a single member of Varric’s family with any such business. The lie was confirmed with how quickly the rogue located the box of toys he presented to the children to go through. Raelnor was watching him with the same puzzled face he used to direct at Anders; bafflement at someone doing them a kindness with no expectation of anything in return.

Bree, the sweetheart that she was, had brought over a small selection of toys for the twins to choose from, showing first Cat then Cahir the ones she had thought they would like. Cahir had latched onto a small rattle drum which he clumsily waved until Fenris gently corrected his grip and showed him how to roll it between his palms to make the small beads hit the drum more consistently. Cat’s choice had been a carved wooden horse with wings and little wheels attached to its hooves. As she rolled it back and forth on the table in front of him, Anders resigned himself to picking it up a thousand times throughout the night as she lost her grip on it. Once content that the twins had gotten something as well, Bree returned to Tanner and Rosalyn. The dwarven boy was showing Rosalyn how to make the top spin with a practiced hand, and gave a proud grin when the girls exclaimed at how long he got it to spin.

Pleased with himself, Varric retook his seat and took his turn. He shrugged his shoulders amicably at Anders’ knowing look without a hint of shame. The healer wasn’t going to complain; he knew the kids needed toys, they just weren’t expenses he could afford. Technically he couldn’t afford to feed himself and seven kids but he was making it work. Mostly.

“So, you had any luck?” Hawke asked Raelnor, who had been sullenly studying his cards.

Raelnor had been moody and temperamental since he had lost his job at the docks. Burgess had been upset that Fenris had interrupted the fights. He had even accused Raelnor of setting him up since someone had massively outbid him at the last moment before the fights and took the entire betting pool in result.

Raelnor had pointed out that he didn’t exactly have the money to place a big enough bet to more than double Burgess’ bet, which was what it would have taken for the mystery gambler to take all the winnings from the betting rather than just a portion. He had bit his tongue to avoid mentioning that without Burgess setting the rule of the whole pot going to the top bet if it was more than twice the second highest bet to benefit himself, he wouldn’t have lost everything. Of course, he had been correct but it hadn’t helped him keep his job.

Anders couldn’t blame his sour mood- Raelnor had spent years knowing he had to make money for any of them to survive, the only one besides Delilah remotely old enough to work a regular job.  Every person that turned him away was a personal failure to Raelnor, no matter how Anders told him they would figure it out. The assurance that there were people around now who would make sure the kids didn’t starve only served to make the teenager complain of feeling useless, like deadweight.

Anders mourned the childhood the boy had clearly given up in favor of caring for the younger children. He wished he could tell Raelnor not to worry about money or finding another job even as he knew logically they needed the extra income for food and necessities for the kids.

“Nothing yet. The only place willing to hire Fereldans, much less one as young as me, is the Bone Pit-”

“I would rather pay to not have to go there,” Varric said.

“Bad news, that place,” Isabela agreed.

“Yeah, don’t take that,” Hawke told him.

“But my overbearing mum told me I would not be working there under any circumstances,” Raelnor finished. He scowled at his hand of cards and set it down face up to show he was folding.

“Yes I did,” Anders told him. “I would rather you not be turned into mincemeat by giant spiders or blighted dragons, Rae,” he began, which the boy waved away dismissively. It was an argument they had revisited a few times since the subject came up.

“Yeah, yeah, like I said mum here said I couldn’t take that one so I’m still looking.”

“Well, that’s good, then,” Varric told Raenor. “It would mean you can’t come to work for me. Think you can handle serving food during the day here?”

“What? You can’t seriously be offering to pay me to come run and tote for you all day.”

“Well, Norah works nights here and they’re going to start serving more meals during the day.”

“Ah, Varric, I know you basically run it but I don’t think you can just offer him a job here.”

The dwarf grinned, the kind he only wore when he was especially proud of whatever trickery he had managed. Usually when one upping petty criminals or raining fire on unsuspecting enemies with Bianca from the backlines.

“Oh, I didn’t mention? I recently came into possession of a little something that gives me a bit more say about what happens here than before.”

Oh, Anders thought, remembering the look Norah had given him earlier when he came in with the children.

“You’re the new management.”

“Aw Blondie, why did you have to steal my thunder? I wanted to deliver it all dramatically,” Varric pouted. When Anders just raised an eyebrow he chuckled and confirmed, “yeah, I’m the new management.”

“Good on you Varric!” Hawke praised.

“Now you can stop bringing it up to Aveline,” Fenris said.

“I know, she was no help.”

“You’re who out bet Burgess,” Raelnor realized.

“The bookie who he had working the fights is an old friend of mine, he was happy to tell me how much he bet and lied about who I betted for. Figured he wouldn’t give you a fair cut even if you did take the dive for him. Sorry if I caused any trouble for you, kid.”

For the first time since being fired, Raelnor’s laugh was raucous and sincere.

“He only scheduled me for that fight because he figured he would kill me. Fuck that blighted nug-”

“Rae, language,” Anders scolded, mainly because all of the younger kids would no doubt repeat what he said, all eager to emulate their older brother. He tried to ignore how Fenris stifled his chortle into his drink he had been raising to his lips.

“Sorry, mum,” Raelnor said, still beaming. Varric winked at him.

“Can you start tomorrow at noon?”

“Yes sir!”

“Good to hear, you’ve got the job, on one condition.”

Raelnor hesitated, his eyes flicking to Anders then Fenris and back to Varric.

“Which is?” he asked nervously.

“No more fighting for money.”

“Done,” Raelnor said immediately. He had already promised Anders (and a tearful Bree) the same thing the morning after his last fight.

“Alright, I’ll show you around tomorrow. Welcome aboard.”

“Anders, we found one of your kids on our patrol,” Aveline called as soon as she and Donnic arrived. Delilah waved at them meekly at the mage when she followed the guardswoman in, Donnic bringing up the rear.

“I thought you were staying at the Rose tonight?” Anders asked her.

Delilah had a bunk there along with some of the other girls where she usually stayed after her shift. She would usually come to the clinic around midmorning to spend time with the kids, taking them out into town or bringing them odds and ends she thought they needed. She had been steadfastly stubborn about not needing anything, to give to the kids instead.

“I changed my mind, was hoping you wouldn’t mind me bunking with the kids tonight. I was fine waiting at the clinic but, uh,” she floundered, and looked at the guard-captain.

“Aveline,” the redheaded woman provided kindly, smiling. “I insisted.”

“Thanks Aveline. Delilah, you can stay whenever you like,” Anders told her.

“You know how to play Wicked Grace?” Isabela asked her.

“Boy, do I.”

---

Delilah continued to stay her nights at the clinic once she was off work. Working at the Blooming Rose usually meant she crept in during the early morning hours. The first few days she looked surprised to find that Anders had waited up for her, but after a few times she seemed to grow used to it. They had established a tradition of sorts; Anders would stop working on his manifesto for the evening when she arrived and they would brew tea and discuss their days before both going to bed.

It was a nice routine, and Anders hadn’t had quite enough of those in his life. Delilah had been very polite and distant at the start, even offering to pay Anders for watching the children. He was just glad she seemed to be warming up to him.

She seemed extra tired tonight though. It was later than she normally got home and Delilah was walking favoring one leg. Anders had noticed that something seemed to be going on with her; something that had made her stop feeling safe enough to sleep at the Rose and jump at corners. He wasn’t sure it was his place to push her though. The other children had been all but officially adopted as his charges. Even Raelnor had come around.

“Sorry, healer, you didn’t have to wait up for me,” she told him softly.

“I didn’t even realize how late it was,” Anders lied. “Here, come sit down and I’ll make us some tea.”

Her smile was weak but sincere. Anders put the lid on his inkwell (improvised, a necessity with kids running around and bumping into the desk) and put his work and quill away. He gave his knee a brisk rub before he got up. From how it and his elbow ached, it was going to storm soon. Delilah watched him as he gathered the tea pot and filled it with water.

“Healer, I can do it,” she said, getting up.

Anders flapped a hand at her and continued with making tea. Rather than the normal tea he normally made, he dug out the last of the mix he had made to help with pain. It was a little bitter but it did the trick. He winced when he stepped wrong and felt the bolt of pain shoot all the way up through his hip.

“Healer,” Delilah protested but Anders was already leveraging himself to sit in his chair in front of the fire beside her, the water coming to boil hanging in the fireplace.

“How many times have I told you to just call me Anders?”

“It just feels weird,” Delilah admitted.

Anders rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. Delilah had tried to call him messere or serah at first but he had finally got her to stop doing that. Maybe one day she would refer to him by something other than a title but every step closer felt nice regardless.

“Guess you could be calling me mum instead,” Anders conceded.

Delilah giggled and glanced towards the back of the clinic where the rest of the kids were resting. Her expression was fond, if not a touch sad. She got up to get the teapot from its hook before Anders could once the water inside could be heard boiling. Delilah poured their cups with a practiced hand and set the tea in it to steep.

“Sorry if that bothers you,” she told him once she had sat back down. “Rae means it in a good way. His dad was terrible and wasn’t around much but he had his mum, even if she spent more time drinking and wailing on him than taking care of him. She’s basically his only concept of a parent, he probably never even considered calling you anything else. He just calls his dad William.”

“It doesn’t bother me. My father… wasn’t the best, usually so I understand that,” Anders admitted. He picked up his cup but didn’t drink from it, content to let its warmth leech into his hands.

“What… ah, you can tell me if it’s out of bound, but what was it like growing up?”

She asked so hesitantly that Anders found that he wanted to answer more than he wished to avoid thinking about his parents or the life he had had, all those years ago. Usually remembering it made him feel lonely and like he was twelve years old again, cut loose and thrown to the wolves.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-” Delilah began to backtrack, her dark brows furrowed.

“No, sorry, it’s fine. I’m an only child, my parents moved out of the Anderfels to a small Fereldan village when I was very young, and we had a farm there. My mother was a caring soul, and she wanted more children but couldn’t have them. My dad was from a large family that was mainly still scattered all over the Anderfels. He was… bitter a lot because he was homesick. I remember I tried to learn his native language, and called him Táta when I was younger. I thought maybe it would make it… easier. It would be something special we shared, like my ma teaching me about healing. Eventually he told me to stop calling him that and just call him father. I think I disappointed him. His only son, flamboyant and more interested in cats and my mother’s garden of herbs than anything he considered boyish. He was the one who turned me into the Templars. I guess I should have just been happy that I had evaded the Circle as long as I had.”

Anders took a sip of his tea even though it was still much too hot for his taste. It helped force down the knot in his throat even if he still felt a bit like crying. He always felt like this when discussing his father; wistful for what could have been, if Anders hadn’t been so… Anders, shamed that he had not been enough for his own father, mournful and angry in equal measures with the cold, distant man who had wanted to love him so badly. His father had been sad under it all, plagued by darkness Anders could not have understood. More than once as a child when he had gone to his father in search of affection or comfort and had been turned away. Anders had sworn he would be a better father. As he had grown, Anders realized that perhaps his own father was a sign he shouldn’t be one himself. He often drowned in his own feelings of helplessness and desolation, he didn’t want to risk a child suffering for it.

Delilah reached to him and carefully tugged one hand from his cup to fold in her own.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. For him to turn you in, Maker it’s awful,” she whispered. “I was lucky in some ways I think, since I never knew who my da was. I was just another brothel brat, and all the girls looked after all of us kids as their own.”

“Is that how you and the kids found each other?”

She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Our village avoided the worst of the blight, it was kind of out of the way, but a horde of Darkspawn were pushing in. The… Andraste, some of the villagers got the idea that if they locked the gate from the alienage to the rest of the city and set it on fire, everyone running out the other gate onto the road into the village would draw the Darkspawn that way and they could defend the village.”

“Did it work?”

“I didn’t stick around to find out. I just remember seeing some of the kids running and jumped the gate. Raelnor and I grew up together and he followed me over when he saw me go. We saved what kids we could and ran. Bree and Rosalyn ended up staying with us, we were going to get them to safety but that… didn’t end up happening. We met Tanner when we were passing through Denerim. He asked for help because he didn’t know where to get milk that was safe for babies to drink. The twins had been abandoned outside the local chantry with a note that just had their names. But the chantry didn’t have space for babies or the resources, especially after how hard the blight had hit them and Tanner… he refused to leave the twins even when everyone else in his travelling party moved on. They told him they didn’t have the money to take care of them so he stayed and did it, as best as he could. His parents were killed by Darkspawn, he ended up with other refugees from his village. In the end, we wound up on a boat here looking for some of the people he had been travelling with who said they were coming to Kirkwall but we never found them. Everything else is kinda history I guess,” she shrugged. “I know a lot of people think I’m stupid for staying here and taking care of them but I couldn’t just leave them. We’re a family now, after everything.”

Anders smiled and squeezed her hand. “Yes, you are a family. All those who think you’re stupid are the dumb ones. It’s admirable to do for others with no ulterior motive. You have a good heart, Delilah.”

She blushed and looked away from him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything other than how little they were. Bree was so small then. I mean, she’s still small but she was tiny. I picked her up and she weighed basically nothing. I just… couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. I wasn’t trying to be a good person, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to them.”

“Because you’re a good person, sweetheart,” Anders told her.

She smiled some to herself before carefully pulling her hand back and taking to her own tea. They finished their drinks together, the silence comfortable and contemplative. The warmth from the tea seemed to fill him at his core and slowly the pain ebbed away. He hadn’t even realized the heat of the fire on his skin and the familiar hissing crackle had lulled him into a light doze until he felt Delilah’s lips touch his forehead.

“Night, ta, thank you,” she murmured before creeping away.

He listened to her as she got things settled before slipping back into their sectioned off sleeping area, a smile he couldn’t fight off gracing his face. The healer had planned to get up and bank the fire before turning in for the night himself. Instead when he awoke it was the Cat squealing in joy the next morning. Someone had covered him with a blanket and couldn’t even be upset about being woken up when Tanner was so apologetic about it. His kids were worth more than any amount of missed sleep.

---

It was inevitable that Hawke would need him for an overnight trip. She had agreed to look into demons that were coming from one of the caves near where the Sabrae clan had set up. With how long of a trek it was, they had never managed to make it back before nightfall and always had to make camp along the path back. But Hawke wanted a healer along with them and Anders needed some of the rarer herbs that only flourished on Sundermount.

Of course, that didn’t make it any easier to leave the children. He had given Rosalyn the key to the clinic so they could lock up if they left and had told them where to leave it when they went to bed so Delilah could get in. He had asked Varric to check on them and even accepted Aveline’s offer for Donnic to swing by during his patrol to make sure they were alright as well. He had made sure Tanner and Rosalyn knew where they kept the extra coin stashed in case they needed it. None of it eased the anxiety of leaving them to fend for themselves without him.

“Go, ta, we got it,” Tanner had assured him when he mentioned telling Hawke he would send her with extra healing potions, that he just couldn’t go overnight. He considered asking about the new nickname the kids (except Raelnor) had adopted for him but let it slide. At least they had stopped just calling him healer.

Varric knocked on Fenris’ door in the late afternoon. When he first saw Varric waiting for him his heart had rabbitted in his chest, sure that something was wrong. He couldn’t think of another reason for the rogue to come calling for him when Hawke was out of town for the night.

“What’s happened?” he asked immediately.

Varric chortled at him and raised his hands in a soothing gesture.

“Calm down Broody, there’s no fire. I just figured since I’m going to check on your children you should come along,” the dwarf cajoled.

“They’re not my children, they’re the mage’s children,” Fenris answered, but stepped out of the mansion to follow him regardless. He hadn’t even considered the logistics of where the children would be while Anders was away. Just another reason they weren’t his children; he wasn’t suited to looking after others.

“Whatever you say, elf.”

Fenris had expected they would go to the clinic and find the children inside, or perhaps playing on the landing just in front of it as they often did. They met Donnic coming down from Lowtown, apparently given the same task as them by his wife. The man didn’t look too put out by it though, laughing and joking with them as they made their way through the slums.

Rather than the sound of Rosalyn’s distinct tinkling laughter or Bree shouting or even one of the twin’s excited baby talk, there was the sound of a child crying. Fenris heard it first and took off in a run, hearing Varric’s surprised shout at his sudden departure and the clattering of Donnic’s armor as he hurried to catch up.

When he rounded the corner, his heart calmed some to see all five of the younger children sitting against the wall just outside the clinic’s doors. Rosalyn’s face was buried in her knees as she wailed, Tanner rubbing her back with a contrite expression.

Cahir was the first to notice Fenris approaching and called out, “Da!” to him excitedly just as Donnic and Varric rounded the corner. Varric complained about how fast he was when they caught, practically panting. Fenris made a note to tease the dwarf about being out of shape later.

Once he knew what was wrong with his kids. The mage’s kids, he meant.

“What’s wrong?” Fenris asked Rosalyn when she looked up at him with wet eyes.

Her face scrunched up again before she could speak and she let out a small hiccuping sob. The warrior found himself wrong footed and unsure how to proceed; danger and fighting were more his forte, crying girls and children not so much. He wasn’t sure what to say to calm her but clearly she was upset and needed something. Fenris would have given her anything to wipe away her devastated expression.

“It’s okay,” he said gently. “Tell me what has happened and I will do what I can to rectify it.”

“T-the healer gave me the k-key to hold onto but I lost,” she choked out before sniffling miserably. “It’s his only one, he’s going to be so mad. He told me he was giving it to me because he t-trusted me with it and-” she sobbed again.

“Well that’s not the end of the world, sweetheart,” Donnic told her.

Rosalyn looked up at the guardsman.

“B-but I lost it, and…”

“No one’s hurt or dying, the sky isn’t falling, the clinic isn’t on fire, and all of you are together,” Donnic told her in a calm voice. He knelt and ruffled her hair.

“If you know about where you lost it we can ask around and see if anyone found it, if not we can retrace your steps and look for it,” Fenris offered when she looked at him.

“Even if someone did pick it up they would have no way to know which door in the city it opened,” Varric agreed. “Not to mention I can just pick the lock to let you in and replace the lock.”

“Oh! We know right where it is we just can’t… uh… get to it,” Bree told them. “You’ll help us, right da?”

Fenris looked to Varric and Donnic, unsure who the girl was addressing only to find them both aiming what Fenris could only describe as shit-eating grins at him. Oh, she means me, he recognized. Looked like he would probably be best keeping his taunts about Varric’s stamina to himself for a bit.

"Yes, we'll help you," he told Bree, already resigned to his fate.

“How ?”

Fenris felt a little bad for his incredulous tone when Rosalyn hiccuped and sniffled behind him but really how she had managed to drop the key where she had eluded Fenris. Over a wall and down the side of the steep rock Kirkwall was built into and on top of, of all things. The kids hadn’t been wrong; they had taken them straight to the key. It taunted them from a jutting section of wall built out to take the brunt of the waves that crashed against Kirkwall’s walls. Occasionally the light winked off it whenever the clouds weren’t hiding the slowly setting sun.

“Cahir saw a bird,” she offered meekly.

All three of the adults stepped away from the low wall they had been leaning over to peer down at the key to turn and look at her more fully. Ironically they were within eyesight of the clinic’s door still.

“Cahir… saw a bird…” Fenris repeated slowly, feeling his eyebrow raise in question against his will.

“He’s been fussy all day and didn’t want to be carried, but if we let him down he ran off. There was a bird here, and he saw it and tried to grab it. Tanner was holding him but he was so wriggly that when he jumped Tanner couldn’t catch him. I did but I forgot… I forgot I was holding the key and it flew out of my hand. I just panicked! I… the spikes, and no one else was close- I had-”

“I see,” Fenris said, nodding. “Things happen, we will figure it out. Cahir is more important than the key,” and he didn’t even want to imagine the boy managing to land on the rusty spikes that lined the outer half walls of Darktown’s walkways.

“Told you,” Tanner told her, “Cahir would have gotten really hurt, I knew they would listen and not be mad, Ros.”

“No, you didn’t, you just said we might as well tell the truth because they would find out.”

“Shh,” the dwarven boy said but wouldn’t look at any of them. “You could have told them I dropped it, I told you.”

“No one’s in trouble,” Fenris assured. “We just have to find a way to get the key now, alright?”

They weren’t going to be able to get the key. It was too far down with no real path to get to it. The three men had stood for a long time discussing ways of getting it before they had given up on the idea. They had discussed trying to hook with something or even getting a boat and going at it from the water. In the end, none of their ideas got them any closer to the elusive key. They had nothing that they would use with any accuracy to snag it and pull it back up, and any boat they would have been smashed agaisnt the rocks around the outcropping of rocks. Their plan of picking the lock itself and simply replacing it was dashed too as one by one Varric broke every lockpick he had in it, growling and cursing the entire time.

“If we got some rope one of us could rappel down to it,” Varric suggested.

“Are you going to go down after it?”

“I know us dwarves are small but we’re dense. There’s no way I would get down without falling, not to mention back up. Donnic? Dashing rescues are supposed to be your thing, just pop on down and grab the key.”

“I’m in full plate armor, I’m pretty sure the rope would snap if I tried. Fenris could go, he’s the lightest of us.”

“I’m able to pass through solid objects, not scale vertical walls,” Fenris informed them drolly when both the rogue and the guardsman looked to him. They stood in silence for a moment and Fenris glanced back at the clinic door. “I can kick that door down though.”

Varric considered it for a moment, tapping his index finger on his chin contemplatively.

“I got a guy that can replace it today,” he agreed.

Donnic perked up. “We have spare locks at the Keep we can install. They’re replacements for the ones on the main entrance to the Keep, so they’re sturdy. And come with more than one key.”

“Okay, so new plan,” Varric said and clapped his hands before giving out orders.

The new door looked almost too nice as it set into its new frame, out of place in dingy Darktown, but there was no questioning it was sturdy. Much more secure than the one Anders had had previous, and could be locked from the inside instead of just the outside, unlike its predecessor. To lock up for the night, Anders had rigged some kind of bar and chain across the door from the inside.

“Sorry about all the trouble,” Rosalyn told them all over dinner. Donnic had left to finish his patrol after helping them install the new lock but had returned for supper and had even brought sweets back for the children to have for dessert. They had all been ecstatic when presented with them, something Fenris made a note to bring them more of.

“We’ve been harping Blondie to change that door for months,” Varric dismissed, “really I should be thanking you for giving me a reason to just take care of it.”

Rosalyn smiled some down at her food and allowed Bree to pull her into whatever the kids were discussing so seriously. Fenris half listened to them, mainly happy that they were all at ease again and there were no more tears.

“Oh, were you two there when Aveline said something to Isabela about the dinner party? She was pretty hurt about her not coming and said she told her about it but I’m not sure I believe her. You know Ave,” Donnic asked them once it was clear the children were absorbed in their own discussion.

Varric snorted. “Oh man were we. Your wife can be ruthless, told Bela that if you two ever had kids together who asked what a slattern was, she’d just point at her and tell them ‘that’s a slattern.’ In the middle of Hightown.”

Donnic’s laugh was startled and boomed out of him.

“Yeah, that sounds like her,” he agreed.

“What’s a slattern?” Bree asked innocently, her head cocked to the side.

“Uh, nothing you need to worry about,” Varric said at the same time Donnic said “you’ll find out when you’re older.”

Both answers just made Bree pout but she dropped it anyway. Fenris hoped she didn’t ask Anders about the word later, as the mage had been persistent about them not cussing around the children. Evidently hearing Tanner call something “absolute blighted nugshit” had been a bit of a wake up call to how much they listened and repeated what the adults said.

After dinner, Varric had said his goodbyes and mentioned he would send Raelnor home with his own key once he got back to the Hanged Man. The boy had been enjoying his new job, especially since he got tips on top of his hourly wages. Donnic mentioned that he had to get home to clean before Aveline got back the next day. Before long it was just Fenris and the children. The elf was tidying up the clinic and trying to convince himself to leave for the night as well when Bree tugged on his shirt.

“Will you stay tonight, da?” she asked him. He wanted to dissuade her from calling him that but couldn’t bear to say anything when she was looking at him with wide earnest eyes. “Please?”

“Yes, fine, but you need to start getting ready for bed. It’s getting late.”

“Okay but you have to tuck me in!”

Bree grinned and scurried away to do as he said without waiting for an answer. Fenris sighed and surveyed the cots available to sleep on for the night. He supposed he should have guessed that he wouldn’t have the heart to return the mansion and leave them alone for the evening. He was just starting to put bedding on one when Raelnor came in and regarding him with a confused face.

“Just sleep in mum’s bed, it’s not like he’ll mind,” he had told Fenris, “those cots are tiny, you’ll never sleep on ‘em comfortably.”

“Da! I’m ready for bed, come tuck me in?” Bree interrupted. She tugged at his hand and Fenris followed her back to the children’s makeshift room, Raelnor’s chuckle following him as the teenager sat at their little table with his own dinner.

Rosalyn was sitting on the edge of the twins’ cot with a book open in her hands. She looked at him in surprise when he came in.

“Da’s tucking us in tonight,” Bree informed them and clambered into her own cot.

“Oh, did you want to read to us then?” Rosalyn offered, and held out the book. It looked well worn with it’s yellowing pages and cracked spine.

“Sorry, I can’t,” he told her.

“O-oh, right, sorry. We’re not your kids, um, everyone say goodnight and thank you,” she said even as her little voice wobbled with tears at being turned away. Fenris laid a hand on her skinny shoulder even as he refused to look at any of them.

“I wouldn’t mind reading to you, I just… can’t. I can’t read,” he admitted, something he had taken pains for even his friends to not know coming out easy when he knew it would comfort the girl. “I will stay and listen though, and I believe I did promise to tuck everyone in.”

He settled down in the rickety chair that was undoubtedly there for Anders to sit in and read to them nightly. Fenris wondered what he sounded like, reading to the children every night. With his expressive face and array of voices, Fenris imagined Anders was a good storyteller for children’s stories.

Rosalyn read a chapter to them from the book, something about a princess escaping a curse from what Fenris caught. The twins were asleep by the end of the first page, and when Rosalyn softly closed the book Fenris looked around and realized that all of the younger kids were out like lights. He tugged Bree’s blanket up to her chin, tucked Tanner’s more firmly around his feet and made sure the twins were not at risk of rolling out of their bed in the middle of the night while Rosalyn extinguished their lantern.

“I can teach you,” Rosalyn whispered to him as she got into her own bed, the book safely put away with a small collection of other books and toys shoved into the corner. “How to read, I mean. I used to teach the kids in the alienage, and some of their parents too. If you want, it’s okay if not, you may want someone else to teach you or-”

“Ros,” Fenris said to get her attention. He knelt beside her cot and brushed her hair back from her worried face. “That sounds very nice, thank you. I would love for you to teach me.”

If I am teachable, Fenris bit back. Rosalyn smiled at him and laid down. He settled her blanket around her shoulders and smoothed her hair back before standing and sliding out from behind the curtain.

Raelnor had put away the bedding he had set out on the cot and jerked his thumb at the door to Anders’ cupboard of a room. He didn’t go back to his cot with his siblings until Fenris had slipped into it and abandoned the thought of sleeping out on the cot.

“What happened ?” Anders asked as soon as he saw the new door the next day.

“Cahir saw a bird,” Bree told him sagely. Around her the other children nodded with serious expressions on their little faces and Anders could only sigh. At least the clinic was cleaner than it was when he left, he supposed.

(leave kudos and comments here please ♥)

[just-another-ficwriter]

Riverdale Winter Bingo Masterlist

*Fear (Reader x Sweet Pea) - A fun night camping in Fox Forest takes a dramatic turn from fireside stories and s’mores to gun shots and adrenaline fuelled fear when Y/N stumbles upon The Black Hood and his latest victim. (Fox Forest)

*Stay (Reader x Sweet Pea) - 2 hours and 54 minutes. That’s how long Sweet Pea and Y/N are stuck in an elevator reliving their past, 6 years after they last saw each other. (The Pembrooke)

*Boyfriend Bonfire (Reader x Firefighter!Sweet Pea) - When Betty arrives home devastated from her breakup, Y/N, Veronica and Cheryl try their best to cheer her up with their own disastrous love lives. But Cheryl’s suggestion of preforming a ‘bad boyfriend’ cleansing ritual takes a firey turn that ends in a 999 call. (Firefighter AU)

*Bruised (Reader x Boxer!Fangs) - Fangs boxing career leaves him bloody and battered most nights, stumbling home with fresh cuts and new broken bones for Y/N to patch up. But what happens when she can’t take anyone? (Boxer AU)

*Sleepless Nights (Jughead x Veronica) - When Jughead can’t sleep he thinks of Veronica. (Jeronica)

*Undercover (Reggie x Josie) - For years Josie McCoy has been desperate to bring down the underground fight club that plagued her neighbouring town Greenedale and ruined her brother’s life but she can’t do it alone. (Rosie)

*Stand By Me (Reader x Musician!Sweet Pea) - Sweet Pea reminisces about how The Archie’s began and realises his feelings for Y/N go back further than he thinks. (Band AU)

*Bitten (Reader x Sweet Pea) - When a supply run goes wrong and they lose one of their own, will Sweet Pea and Y/N escape the horde of zombies alive? (Free Space)

*The Morning After (Betty x Prince!Jughead) - When Betty gets stood up she meets a stranger who seems to be the perfect distraction. That is until she sees his face plastered on the news the morning after. (Royal AU)

*Consequences (Witch!Reader x Sweet Pea) - Consumed by her grief, Y/N turns to dark magic to help ease her pain. (Witch AU)

*Colours (Soulmate!Reader x Soulmate!Sweet Pea) - When two soulmates meet, the pair can finally see colour. But nothing can prepare Sweet Pea for when life turns back into black and white. (Soulmate AU)

*Inked (Tattoo Artist!Reader x Sweet Pea) - One visit to the tattoo parlour results in a several unwanted tattoos and a possible romance when Sweet Pea takes a liking to the new tattoo artist. (Tattoo Shop AU)

*Satin Slippers And Leather Jackets (Ballerina!Betty x Serpent!Jughead) - Vibrant knee-length tutus, pink satin slippers, graceful and elegant routines. Ballet was Betty Coopers life and all she’d ever really known. Until her path crosses with a beanie clad gang member from the wrong side of town. (Ballet AU)

*Heartbreak And Redemption (Veronica x Archie) -  Five years ago Veronica fled town with a broken heart and the intentions of never coming back. So why after all this time does she finally feel the need to return home? (Andrews Construction)

*Agents In Training (Agent!Reader x Agent!Sweet Pea) - When Phil Coulson puts together a new team of agents, Sweet Pea is forced to be Y/N’s Supervising Officer and train her in combat. (Coworkers AU)

*Changes (Betty x Jughead) - 10 years after they guarduated high school, Jughead finds himself back in the Blue and Gold Office reminiscing about the past. (The Blue&Gold Office)

*Forbidden (Angel!Reader x Demon!Sweet Pea) - Everything in Y/N’s life tells her she shouldn’t be drawn to Sweet Pea. All her beliefs, all the stories she’s heard tell her he should be the bad guy. So why does her heart break when she hears he’s finally been captured? (Demon/Angel AU)

*Meant To Be (Cooper!Reader x Stripper!Sweet Pea) - When Polly’s bachelorette party ends up at a Magic Mike style show Y/N can’t help but be drawn to one act, Sweet Pea. Much to her surprise, when he over hears her current family dilemma he’s more than willing to help. (Stripper AU)

*The Circus (Acrobat!Reader x Sweet Pea) - Fang and Toni force Sweet Pea to visit the circus. (Circus AU)

*Lost At Sea (Pirate!Reader x Pirate!Sweet Pea) - For years Y/N and Sweet Pea have been competing against each other to find the next best treasures, even going as far as leaving each other taunting messages and damaging each other’s ships. So why does Sweet Pea’s heart stop when he hears she missing? (Pirate AU)

*Bourbon And Red Wine (Vampie!Reader x Vampire!Sweet Pea) - After a little too much to drink, Y/N’s worried she’s starting to forgot what she looks like. So she asks Sweet Pea to describe her. (Mythical AU)

*Girl Racer (Reader x Sweet Pea) - When Y/N turns up on the Southside in a hot pink toyota claiming she can beat Sweet Pea, he can’t refuse the challenge. (Street Racing AU)

*More That A Bet (Jock!Reggie x Nerd!Reader x Sweet Pea) - It breaks Sweet Pea’s heart to see Y/N upset over someone like Reggie Mantle when he knows she’s worth so much more. (Nerd/Jock AU)

*The Food Critic (Chef!Betty x Food Critic!Jughead) - When Cheryl breaks the news that a food critic is coming to review the restaurant, the gang mistakes Forsyth Pendleton Jones lll for someone else. (Chef/Food Critique AU)

*Locked Up (Reader x Sweet Pea) - Y/N and Sweet Pea find themselves bonding when they’re forced to spend a night in the cells. (Prison AU)

[reds-self-ships]

🔍 The Adventure of the Detection Club

Chapter 12: Opening Arguments

Table of Contents & Trigger Warnings

⚠ Chapter Specific Warnings: Contains allusions to spoilers for The Great Ace Attorney 2, as well as passing references made to blood and gore.

The next morning Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey Defendant Lobby

Ryunosuke Naruhodo quickly sorted his way through a stack of papers that made up the official court record for the case, shuffling his way through at such a speed that he looked as though he was certainly doing his best not to drop any.

Redford took a long drink from the flash of cocoa that Iris had specially prepared for him, whilst Susato kept a watch over Ryunosuke.

The door swung open with a loud crash as Sholmes barged his way into the room. “Morning, folks!” he roared.

Ryunosuke gave a yelp as he promptly dropped the pages of the court record across the floor. “Sh-Sholmes! Look at what you made me do!”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry about that Mr. Naruhodo—”

“Just help me pick these up!”

Ryunosuke fell to his knees, along with Sholmes, frantically picking them up and trying to re-organise them, all whilst Ryunosuke swore several oaths under his breath in Japanese.

“Apologies if I sound rude or anything, Susato, but is Ryunosuke always so…‘jumpy’ before a trial like this…?” Redford asked quietly.

“No…well…at least not that I’ve ever seen before…” said Susato, carefully playing with a loop of her hair.

“Me neither,” said Iris. “Normally when he’s a little anxious, his eyes dart around the room like no tomorrow. But this is definitely a new one…”

“Well it explains the way he was acting during breakfast this morning. With the way his eyes were rolling about in his skull, I thought they were going to roll out of his head or something. If I were trying to maintain eye contact with him, I think I’d’ve ended up giving up.”

The bailiff suddenly appeared from the entrance and called: “Now hearing the case of Regina V. Ninate, will all parties please report to courtroom no. 3 immediately!”

Just in time, Ryunosuke managed to get the papers together and get the court record back into its cardboard folder again.

“That’s our cue, Mr. Naruhodo,” said Susato.

“Well, I’ll be cheering you on from the dock. Good luck, you two!” said Redford with a bow.

Sholmes flicked the front rim of his hat. “And likewise, we’ll be cheering you on from the gallery!”

Iris flicked the front of her own forehead. “Good luck, everybody!”

——————————

The judge hit his gavel several times to bring the chattering of the gallery to a close, before clearing his throat and pushing his pince-nez glasses up his nose.

“Court is now in session for the trial of Redford Ninate!” he announced.

“The defence is ready, milord!” exclaimed Ryunosuke with a start.

“The prosecution is more than prepared, milord,” said Abidon, looking over the top of his half-moon glasses.

“And you,” continued the judge, “our six members of the jury, randomly chosen from citizens across the city of London, are you ready?”

The first juror, a young woman with her short and curly brown hair tied up with a red and white spotted handkerchief, rolled up a sleeve and flexed her bicep. “Ready and riveting to go!”

The second juror, a rather frail-looking old man dressed in a black suit and tall top-hat, stroked his sharp triangular chin with a bony hand. “I’m ready to commit the facts of this case to loving memory…kept in the grace of God’s right hand.”

The third juror, a familiar-looking Japanese man in a brown kimono with messy black hair and moustache, with several cats climbing over him, struck various poses. “I! AM! READY! BANZAI!”

The fourth juror, a tall man with black finely-combed hair in a widow’s peak and an aquiline nose, removed a pipe from the pocket of his dressing gown and began to smoke it. “I am ready to perceive the truth behind this case.”

The fifth juror, a man in a black tuxedo, top-hat with a purple band and a matching-coloured waistcoat stroked his moustache after he fiddled with his monocle. “I, the great Horace Velmont, will give everything that I can to this case!”

Finally, the sixth juror, a young girl with a black and white striped sweater, a mask covering the top part of her face and a black knitted cap on her head, said: “Yeah! I’m ready to go, guv’na!”

The judge nodded his head. “Excellent. Prosecutor Abidon, isn’t it?”

“Yes, milord?”

“You may begin with your opening statement.”

Ryunosuke looked around the courtroom nervously.

(It’s been a while since I’ve last been here. I just hope I’m able to get Redford off of these charges…for his sake…)

He looked over to Redford, sat in the defendant’s chair in the dock. And as he did so, Redford winked.

(Oh my heart…!)

“Mr. Naruhodo? Are you sure that you’re OK?” whispered Susato. “You’re looking at Red in the face.”

“Eh—sorry?”

“I said: ‘Are you OK? You’re looking a little red in the face’.”

“Is everything alright, defence?” asked the judge.

“Defence, you are aware that talking over the prosecution whilst it is attempting to make its opening argument is rude, arrogant and something that could lead to you being removed from this courtroom for contempt of court?” said Abidon with a glare. “I’m not sure how you Japanese like to do things, but it is the way we British people do things in this sacred court of law, and it is to be respected and heeded.”

“Sorry!” exclaimed Ryunosuke with a start. “Carry on. As you were…”

(Oh great! A smaller, jumped up, discounted-version of Lord van Zieks…that’s just what we really need right about now…)

“As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted…” said Abidon as he unfurled a scroll and held it in front of him. “The victim in this case was a Mr. Harris Thomas, a member of the same organisation as the defendant—known as ‘The Detection Club’, an organisation for crime writers to meet and work on their crime novels I believe.

“The victim had been expelled from the club for missed payment of membership fees, and a new member, Dexter Collins, was due to be inaugurated into the club the day before yesterday through a special ceremony. A ceremony that the defendant himself was placed in charge of organising and arranging.

“The defendant arranged ahead of time that he was to meet with the victim to formally inform him of his expulsion at the same time as began these ceremonial preparations. The prosecution, therefore, asserts that the defendant did, with malicious intent and malice of forethought, met with the victim beforehand and killed him unlawfully.

“He did so by hitting him repeatedly over the head with this—” Abidon reached under the prosecution’s bench and took out the alleged murder weapon, holding it high for the benefit of the court. “—this skull, which serves as a mascot for the club, affectionately referred to as ‘Norman’.”

“Oh my! An actual human skull? How frightening!” exclaimed the judge. “Still, how can you assert that it was the defendant who committed this horrifying crime?”

“Because, milord,” replied Abidon, “the defendant was the only one who had a key to this locked room mystery—the only door to the room is several inches thick and designed to be entirely impenetrable, as is the rest of the room. The windows are only able to open a few centimetres in width, and the entire room is located on the third floor of a building on High Window Avenue. And a cursory investigation has proven that there is no way for anybody to hide themselves within the room.”

“Very compelling evidence, I must admit.”

“HOLD IT!”

“If that is the case,” said the second juror, “I believe that we may finally be able to put this matter to rest. Dearly beloved, let us join hands together in prayer to mourn this defendant’s hopeless case. A truly, tragic death, indeed!”

With a knock of his hand against the jury bench, a fireball flew through the air and landed into the “guilty” side of the giant set of scales behind the judge, tilting them towards the right.

(Yikes! Already it’s not looking good!)

“An excellent opening argument indeed, Sir Prosecutor, but not necessarily one that would be enough to force a conviction in my opinion,” said the fourth juror, tenting his fingers together. “However, I would wish to hear more on this matter. It is only whenever we have eliminated every possible lead that we may know for certain what, exactly, has transpired.”

“I am inclined to agree with Juror #4,” said the judge with a nod.

Abidon nodded back in response.

“I acknowledge that particular fact, milord. As such, the prosecution would now like to call its first witnesses to the stand—Detective Athelney Jones of Her Majesty’s Metropolitan Police Service and Dr. Yujin Mikotoba, the police’s current acting chief coroner and medical examiner.”

[finalcreacher]

Something Not Quite Right, But Not Quite Wrong || Chapter 1

A/n - Trigger Warning: Rape/Non-Con/Sexual Assault Nothing too explicit, mostly mentioned, a little bit of description though.

Word Count: 1,223

Reposting this on my main blog, it’s just a very angsty, queer, and trauma filled canon divergent story. Archie/Betty/Veronica/Jughead is endgame...but may take a while to get there...

Also- Jughead is trans, but isn't out yet. So any mentions of this girl named Jones? It's just what Betty and Archie call him, instead of his birth name.

It was the blazing heat of that summer, that found Archie queasy, and begging his father to leave work early that day. He was given a worried look, and he’d insist that he could walk home just fine, perhaps lying that one of his slightly older friends could give him a ride. Fred would still share with him his worries, but allows him to go- “just text me when you’re home” he’d said.

Archie agreed, nodding. Waving a goodbye to his dad, and trudging his way back home. Legs aching, head throbbing- sweat that leaked from his face and his pits, staining and drenching his shirt, making his hair appear greasy, and a bit slicked back. And all too far in his journey hoping that he’d brought a water bottle. He thinks he might be dying.

Which, given his history of sports, he knew was ridiculous. There were a few times- or more than a few, Archie was forgetful sometimes, even when he didn’t mean to be- that he’d been playing, and had gotten that all too familiar dizzy dehydrated feeling. This 90 degree summer day would be no match for Archie- Archie that had gone through worse conditions during sports.

It wasn’t the heat he’d have to worry about, though. It was her. He could never recall if he had heard her little sky blue, Volkswagen Beetle pulling up besides him- but he did know she spoke first. Surprised to see him, noticing how miserable he looked. “Why don’t you come in?” She suggested.

He should have listened to his gut feeling. Her question made a sick sort of feeling form in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t be accepting rides from strangers. But, he reasoned, Ms. Grundy wasn’t a stranger- she was the music teacher. A young woman that he had recognized, almost soon as she recognized him. He had seen her through the halls, and the few times he had tried taking music- he didn’t feel very good at it, but he enjoyed it. He eventually had dropped the class- in favor of after school sports.

He nods back to her, still unsure, but smiling. He wipes a sweaty hand on his pants, opening one of the tiny doors, and clambering inside. Not very graceful. He forgets to tell her where to go. They drive for a while, in silence. “So, Archie?” Her soft, older, voice startles him.

“Yeah?” He all but mutters out.

“How’s your music going? It was a shame you had to drop out- you were one of my better students,” she muses.

Archie doesn’t know how to respond to that. Him? Talented? He didn’t think so. “Thank you,” it comes out more confused than the confidence he’d hoped for. “I-I’ve been writing.”

Ms. Grundy seems to notice his face brighten, smiling back to him. An all teeth sort of deal. “Oh? You’ll have to share sometime. I’m sure it’s wonderful.”

He feels an intensely warm blush creep across his face, looking away from her, leaning his body against the car door. He can feel her fingers grace the top of his knee, and slowly, and quietly, work there way back. But before Archie can look, and tell her to stop- there gone. As if they were never there in the first place. He’d be silly to bring it up now.

He realizes, as they pull into a nearly empty parking lot- that this isn’t the way home. “Uhm- Ms.Grundy?”

“Geraldine. I told you to call me, Geraldine.”

Oh, she had? He hadn’t remembered that, he figured he must have spaced out a bit. The heat will do that to you. “Sorry, Geraldine. I think my house is back the other way.”

Behind the prettiest smile he’d ever seen- she gave him an almost devilish look. “Oh, we don’t need to worry about that, Archie.” She purrs, unbuckling her seatbelt. Her hands grazing near his thigh again, pushing into the release button instead. He hears the seatbelt whip back into place.

He’s not sure what’s going on. But he thinks back to the times he had watched those trashy teen flicks with his friends. Betty had seemed very into them, he thinks it may be mostly a girl thing. But Jones didn’t like them as much. He supposes that she was also a girl of taste, and generally enjoyed the classics and more obscure, artistically crafted films- than whatever garbage they consumed during those sleepovers.

It was those teen movies that gave him the slightest clue of what Geraldine wanted- and he didn’t appreciate it. He frantically tries turning around, and grabbing the handle- but she beats him to it, pressing the lock down. Her fingers following down, down, down. He was bigger, and most likely stronger, than her- he could easily over power her. But he freezes. Every action that he could have taken, dies down in his mind. His body tense, and unable to move. Terrified of everything- and still staying.

“It’s okay, Archie.” It’s okay, okay, repeats in his mind. Okay, okay, okay.

Her fingers find themselves playing with the button of his jeans, pulling his zipper down, and roughly getting him out, getting it out. No, no, no.

She’d finally dropped him off, hours before his dad would be back, and hours after Archie should have been home. “We should do this again.” She smiles, knowing all too well what she had done. “How does July, the fourth, sound?” He weakly nods, slowly finding himself in his room. Feeling dazed, and not quite there. Not really there. He lays in his bed, eyes open no matter how many times they try to close from exhaustion. Afraid that when he opens them again he won’t be there anymore.

He’d forgotten to text his father, something his father would push about tomorrow- and he’d lie again, saying he’d forgotten. He’d still gotten home, and safe- even though he didn’t feel safe. He felt disgusting, not just from the sweat. Waking up in cold sweats. He’d try scrubbing himself clean, so hard patches of his skin would turn red. Allowing himself to cry, loud and obnoxious, as the shower water drowned his sounds. Still feeling just as dirty.

Ms. Grundy- no, no, no- Geraldine, would follow through with her promise on fourth of July. Fred Andrews was at work, and Archie had been given the day off- almost forgetting about certain arrangements. No other neighbor seemed to be present, and if they were, seemed to not notice or even perhaps ignore the stranger loitering around the Andrews’ residence. Archie heard the sound of the Beetle this time, having been in the middle of grabbing a bite to eat. He pulls the curtains back, his heart sinking as they lock eyes. He goes back into the kitchen, but he can still hear her car. He makes the mistake of heading out. Maybe nothing would happen this time.

“Will you leave if I come with you?” Implying that this would be the last time, and he hoped to not see her car around here again.

She gives that devilish smile again. “Of course.”

He’s not sure why he goes. He could have stayed inside, same as he could of stopped her the first time. So it’s okay, okay, okay, this time around. Because he wanted it.  

[scripttorture]

I am more interested in your original fiction than your fanfiction, please tell me about it!

I got a couple of these (because you are all lovely and you humour me) I thought I’d answer them all at once here. :)

 I write fantasy and if I’m honest the writers I most want to be like are Diana Wynne Jones and Terry Pratchett. I don’t think I have Pratchett’s knack for incandescent absurdity though.

 I don’t write as much as I’d like to. I haven’t finished a story for a couple of years now. That’s partly because of the time I spend running the blog and answering questions. (Sometimes it makes me feel sad or guilty, I believe this is normal among writers).

 I’m switching between writing two different books right now, both of which seem to be shaping up to be series.

 I guess in a way they both centre on families and found families. (Gods I sound so queer-)

 Neither of these stories have definitive titles yet, I’ve referring to them as ‘the Ilāra story’ and ‘the City story’, which’ll do for the purposes of general discussion.

 You’ve actually seen part of the Ilāra story before.

 It’s set in a world where magic is the rearrangement of matter, powered by a substance that’s a bit like carbon-13 in that there are traces in all living beings. A person who is born in the normal way can only use magic on things that aren’t part of their body. A person who is created or re-formed by magic can only use magic on their body.

 Twenty years after the fall of Her Majesty, Sardhana has changed in many ways; the created people, Avinas or Avinanar, are technically free even if they’re still functionally a social underclass. The adharkists (magicians) don’t have the hold on power that they used to. And the country’s new military leader has managed to avoid a lot of the bloodshed that characterised Her Majesty’s reign.

 The story centres on the Hennoi family, who rose to greater prominence during the revolt against Her Majesty.

 There’s Teeka, the oldest, for whom the revolt was a formative experience. When Her Majesty’s people came for the family her father took a risk and put her in the care of an Avinas.

 Ilāra was as old as the country and had been neck-deep in the atrocities the old regime committed. And they threw away their position in the old order and chance at safety in order to keep Teeka alive. They taught her the history that stays out of the textbooks and raised her in the culture they prized; the minority Southern culture that was almost wiped out by Her Majesty when the nation was founded.

 The result is a woman who believes in living parallel to the society she’s in. She’s good at playing the good Sardhan woman but her underlying assumptions and ways of looking at the world come from a very different place. So far her military superiors seem to think it’s just eccentricity; and it’s an eccentricity that seems to help her job, investigating abuses of adharka, Avinas and Avinanar.

 Jendra could do the same thing but she doesn’t. The idea of pretending, even for a moment, to be something she isn’t is anathema to her. Society should change to accept it’s people, not the other way around.

 It’s meant that despite being brilliant Jendra’s struggled to find a place for herself. Her academic work keeps being rejected by professors who don’t want to see a mixed race woman’s view on their country’s history.

 Then there’s Valour, who everyone knows is a sweet, caring young woman without Jendra’s fire or Teeka’s manipulative streak. But she’s also embraced Southern tradition and has given up worshipping in the accepted Sardhan fashion. She’s started leading prayers in the Southern style spreading the word among the poor and vulnerable. And among the created people, who the Southern culture called ‘God-Children’ because as the product of magic they are ultimately a gift from the Gods.

 Finally there’s Èrífẹ, who followed his oldest sister into the military. He doesn’t know what he believes yet and he’s happy with the way things are. Life is good and he doesn’t understand why his sisters might want things to change. Everything is perfectly fine.

 And then there’s a murder in a remote town that may have been committed by an Avinas.

 Teeka, Ilāra and Èrífẹ are sent to investigate. A single senseless act leads to a chain of events that will change their family forever.

 There’s a child missing in Sardhana, a girl with power like the country has never seen. And her mother will upend the country to keep her safe.

 The City story has a smaller focus, at least at first.

 It begins eighteen years after the demons came when Grace is sent away from her family in Kenya to the City, a shining ring of nine enormous towers rising out of the ocean just beyond the Madagascar strait.

 It’s a beautiful, verdant place, full of parks, gardens and green walls where everything is powered by the sun, the sea and the wind.

 But Grace feels lonely and she doesn’t understand the history or the culture of this place. Her guardian tries to support her, but with a full time job and seven other children it’s easy for Grace to fall out of sight.

 She meets a girl at school. Nuray is smart and funny and knows the City well. And there’s always space at Nuray’s table over lunch or beside her in class. None of the other girls ever sit with Nuray.

 There are whispers about her. They say that she’s a witch bound to a demon, that she’ll eat the heart of anyone who gets too close.

 Grace is gradually drawn into the City’s underbelly, the world of the witches who sacrificed parts of themselves for magic.

 Her guardian says they did it for power that they’re a threat to the good and decent people of the City.

 Nuray’s parents say they did it because no one would help them.

 Because her grandfather vanished and the police department he was prosecuting for torture didn’t want to investigate his death. Because when her grandmother was beaten by her ex-husband, no one came.

 Because society is full of people whose pain is seen as acceptable.

 Grace isn’t sure what to think but when Nuray’s family is threatened Grace is faced with a choice: she can accept that there is nothing she can do or risk everything to follow her friend into the demons’ realm.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[spartanguard]

(love will see us through these) Dark Days [CSRT; 4/7]

Summary: A century ago, the United Realms of Pomem had been a land of peace, prosperity, and magic. Until war tore the land apart, leaving behind cruel leaders and even crueler laws regarding the use of magic. And each year, the youth of each realm are subjected to a fight to the death, both for entertainment and to weed out anyone capable of wielding magic. In the 99th Magic Games, past victors Emma Nolan and Killian Jones find themselves serving as mentors, while Alice Gothel and Robyn West end up representing their realm. Everyone has secrets; everyone has something to lose. Who will win? Who will die? Just don’t forget: all magic comes with a price.

rated M | 9.2k words | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | AO3

A/N: Here we go on the longest chapter yet! Continued thanks to everyone who has stuck through it thus far; this chapter puts us past the halfway mark, omg. And eternal thanks to the best beta ever @optomisticgirl​ and to @captainswanbigbang​ for putting on the CS Rewrite-A-Thon! chapter title comes from “Take the Heartland” by Glen Hansard.

part 4: should I kill you with my sword, yeah? Or should I kill you with this word?

Thirteen years ago

If Emma closed her eyes and cleared her mind, it wasn’t hard to imagine she was home. Trees were everywhere in Misthaven and she’d basically grown up in the limbs of them; the smell of pine and pitch were as ingrained in her memory as the smell of her mom’s kitchen and her dad’s aftershave. 

The warm, gentle breeze on her face as she sat near the top of a particularly tall conifer almost tricked her into thinking this was just another summer day—that her friends were waiting for her on the ground and her parents would be calling her in for dinner soon.

Until a cannon boom ripped her from the illusion. Lest she forget, she was still in the Arena, and still fighting for her life. 

“What can you see?”

Lily was barely visible on the ground through the branches, but Emma could hear her loud and clear. They’d developed a system pretty quickly: Emma would climb to scout, while Lily kept a lookout on the ground.

“There’s definitely smoke, but it’s all the way on the other side of the arena. Looks more like an explosion than anything,” she answered as she watched the plume of smoke rise. A forest fire wouldn’t have surprised her, so she was relieved that it seemed to be contained—and hoped it stayed that way. “I’m coming down.”

She hopped down the branches as lithely as she’d scaled them, then dropped the last few feet to the ground. Lily was waiting with her crossbow at the ready, dark eyes scanning around them, guarding both the tree and Emma’s backpack. “Which way was it?”

“To the northeast; so we should be good for a while if we head that way,” she said, nodding in the opposite direction as she hefted her bag onto her shoulders. 

“Let’s do it, then.”

She’d met Lily in the training center and they hit it off surprisingly quickly. Graham hadn’t been so sure of creating an alliance with a tribute from Phrygia, for whatever reason, but the girls insisted. Emma had no idea what was going on behind the scenes, but things seemed to be going well so far. There were 6 left in the games—well, 5 now, based on the sound they heard a bit ago. Once they reconnected after a day of wandering (and somehow avoiding the pixees that swept their way through the arena), they’d become what Emma had to assume was a formidable pair.

Lily was good at hand-to-hand combat; Emma had a sword in her hand from a young age—it was how her dad won his games. Between the two, they’d been able to take down anyone that came at them, easily eliminating 7 tributes between the two of them.

Emma’s co-tribute, Billy, hadn’t made it out of the bloodbath at the Apple Tree, but Lily’s was still out there, most likely. “Is it bad that I hope that was Abigail?” she said as they walked, not really in search of anything but mainly to avoid the dangers of staying in one place for too long.

Emma just shrugged. “I think the definition of bad and good doesn’t really matter here.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

They found a rocky outcrop that night to sleep on, one that kept them hidden from view but able to see anything (or anyone) coming. 

A packet of trail mix had arrived from a sponsor a bit ago, and they were both munching on it while watching the still forest. Other than the breeze and the occasional forest creature, it was nearly silent; Emma just might be able to let her guard down enough to get some sleep.

A jaw-cracking yawn told her she needed it. “Hey, Lil—Lily?”

She had to repeat the other girl’s name because she was either lost in thought, or really intrigued by a tree. But she jumped at the second mention of her name. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to take first watch, or should I?” Emma asked, silently hoping for the former option. But she didn’t trust Lily implicitly enough to not give her the choice.

“I’ll take first; get some sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

“Awesome. ‘Night.”

“Night.”

Before she laid down, she unbuckled her sword belt—the only time she did that—and hugged it close as she settled her head on her pack. She was asleep within minutes.

Sometime later, she was awoken by the strains of the national anthem and the announcement of that day’s losses. One was the last tribute from Atlantica, who Emma and Lily had taken out that morning; the other was one of the tributes from Erebor. So not Abigail.

Emma tried to drift back off, but something didn’t seem right. She glanced around and realized she was alone.

“Lily?” she whisper-yelled, then waited. But all she heard was crickets.

She called out again, and silently unsheathed her sword.

After the longest 10 seconds of her life, she nearly jumped out of her skin at footsteps.

“Calm down; it’s me,” Lily said as she hopped back up on the ledge. “I just went to...go.”

“Oh.” Well, now she felt awkward. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Wanna switch?”

Emma was definitely too wired to sleep now. “Yeah, I’ve got this.”

She couldn’t shake the paranoid feeling that had taken over her, though, and found herself jolting at every sound, from Lily’s snores to a bird taking flight. She’d never been more grateful for sunrise when the sky finally took on an orange hue. 

When Lily woke up shortly thereafter, they quickly packed up and headed off, snacking on their trail mix again. 

After a couple of uneventful hours and a stop at a stream for water, Lily paused. “How’s this tree look?” 

It was a little wide, but seemed tall enough. “Sure.”

She dropped her pack, like always, but tightened the clasp on her sword belt; she was spooked enough that she wanted it handy, and it didn’t get in her way. And then she climbed.

Once she got to the top of the canopy, she took a look across the arena. “Looks like a storm is coming,” she called down, seeing some dark clouds in the distance; knowing the Games, there was as good a chance of it being acid rain as normal. “But nothing else looks to be going on.”

A gust of wind blew across the trees then, but she still thought she heard the sound of another voice—not Lily’s.

“Lil? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s good. Wanna keep moving?”

Part of her was screaming not to, but that wasn’t much of an option. “Okay; I’m coming down.”

But before she started her descent, she made what was possibly the smartest move of her life: she pulled the sword from its scabbard, and held tight as she slipped down.

Thank God she did. No sooner had her feet hit the ground than the thwick of a crossbolt hitting wood sounded above her.

Instinct took over and she swung out with her sword as she stepped forward. A cry came out when she connected with flesh, and Lily dropped the crossbow to hold her slashed forearm.

“I thought you said she trusted you,” Abigail sneered from where she stood, just behind Lily. She had a fierce-looking set of daggers, one in each hand and ready to strike.

“I thought she did,” Lily spat back, wincing at the sting of her cut.

Though she was gaping at the pair in front of her, it didn’t take long for Emma to piece everything together, and a pit formed in her stomach: Lily must have set this up when she disappeared last night. She led Emma right to this spot so they could ambush her. 

Weren’t they friends? God, she’d never felt so betrayed. 

Anguish quickly gave way to anger, though. “I did,” Emma growled. “Did you ever trust me?” She swung again with her blade, but Lily jumped back. “Was this a setup from the start?” Her next jab hit Lily in the thigh, bringing her to the ground.

There was a sudden stinging in Emma’s left shoulder; she looked to find one of Abigail’s daggers stuck in it, the girl within striking distance of using the other. But Emma didn’t give her a chance, and thrust forward with her sword, sinking it in the girl’s stomach and twisting. She hated the squelching noise it made, and tried to ignore the whimpers when she pulled it out.

Then she plucked out the dagger, tossed it aside, and turned back on Lily. She placed the tip of her blade not-so-gently under Lily’s chin, forcing the other tribute to look up at her. “Well?”

“I did, for a bit. Figured you’d be good for sponsor gifts. But I trusted her more.”

Emma huffed; of course—of course all anyone could see was what Emma was worth on paper. All the other Tributes had been clamoring to get in her good graces during training—surely, the daughter of two victors would be hard to pass up for a sponsor. Lily was the only one who hadn’t sought her out, which ironically drew Emma to her.

Logically, she knew the alliance wouldn’t have lasted; only one can win. But still—she thought she’d found a tiny glimmer of hope in the shit sandwich that was the games.

So, with a primal yell she didn’t know she possessed, she reared back and forced her sword into Lily’s chest.

The cannon fire came seconds later.

She didn’t waste any time in looting the girls’ bags and had already headed off when the cannon for Abigail finally sounded.

There were two more tributes out there and Emma would be damned if she wasn’t the one to win this thing.

That thought kept her going until she called it a night, hiding up in a tree; she wasn’t about to go stay out in the open all alone. Then—and only then—did she let the grief consume her. Angrily, she tore out the braid in her hair that Lily had made a few nights ago, throwing it into a messy bun instead. Sure, Emma had friends at home, but everything was different now—and Lily got that. 

Had. Had gotten it. Past tense. 

She silently cried herself to a fitful sleep until the chirping of birds woke her in the morning.

Before she left her spot the following morning, a flash of white caught her eye; a feather was stuck in some pine needles. It was too long to belong to any of the birds she’d seen in the arena; heck, it kind of looked like a swan’s, but no one had seen any of those in Pomem in years. Weird.

Still, she added it to her overstuffed pack. The bit of happiness she’d gotten from Lily’s friendship was as dead as she was; may as well take some joy from something else. She could almost hear her mom telling her that it was a symbol of luck or hope or something; as much as Emma didn’t put stock in those kinds of things, knowing that her mother did was enough.

And then she set off to end things. On her own.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Present day

Four days in, Emma still wasn’t sure about all this. The concept of the games was still appalling, obviously, but she was unfortunately becoming a bit desensitized to that. It was the whole working-with-others thing she still wasn’t crazy about. 

She wasn’t ungrateful for the alliance—not by a long shot. Between Killian, Ariel, and Graham, she’d figured out the ropes pretty damn quick. As it turned out, her years of pretending to be in a loving relationship worked wonders on potential sponsors. (It also helped that Tamara was leading in kills. Unfortunately, August had fallen on day 2 to one of the tributes from Erebor—who, in turn, quickly became part of Tamara’s body count.) 

But she knew it was going to have to come to an end at some point, and that would be messy. She knew first-hand just how bad it could get. And, dammit, she actually liked them—especially Ariel, with her bubbly optimism and sweet demeanor. She was a stark contrast to Killian—all dark hair, good looks, and a cocky attitude that Emma could see right through—but Emma got along with him way too easily for comfort, and it was pretty clear to her that it was mostly a front, having seen through a few of its cracks already. Whatever had happened on the elevator last week still nagged at the back of her mind, on occasion.

There wasn’t enough downtime to get that answered, though. If she wasn’t keeping watch over things in the game center, she was either resting or hitting up a potential sponsor. She and Graham were trying to keep things balanced so that one of them was always in the center but god, it was exhausting. The games were 24/7, which meant their jobs were, too. 

Honestly, she was kind of surprised that she was still so busy, given that both Misthaven and Atlantica were down to one tribute each; William had fallen victim to a swarm of pixees—insects native to Neverland that were the product of normal bees getting into an ancient (and long-gone) supply of pixie dust—that had basically been bomb-dropped by one of the girls from Sherwood. But Tamara and Ursula had finally met up and were doing pretty well together. They managed to tag-team the boy from DunBroch, but that was the only move they had made on offense.

That said, there were still some times Emma had to calm herself down; when the image of Lily’s sneer flashed in her memory, or the way life had faded from her eyes. She could feel her magic creeping up her spine in those moments, threatening to let loose; it was only her experience in putting on a face for show (and several deep breaths) that held it back.

She had just watched the girls survive a run-in with some raining fireballs. They’d found shelter by a river and were using the water to soothe their injuries, but they needed burn medicine if they were going to get any farther. Even though it was only a few days in, the price of everything had already skyrocketed. That meant they’d have to hit up a well-endowed sponsor. Which meant she and Killian would have to take a trip. 

Early on, Graham had thought it would be a good idea to split up and maybe learn some tricks of the trade from the other pair of mentors. Emma, being the least outgoing of the two of them, consequently ended up with Killian. “Maybe his personality will rub off on you,” Graham ribbed. (Emma responded by punching him a little harder than playfully in the arm.)

“I know a retired doctor who can help us—might even be able to knock the price down,” Killian said, somewhat casually. He had spread himself over the length of the sofa across from Emma, almost as if he was putting himself on display; not for the first time, her thoughts drifted back to their conversation the other night. She was still pretty ashamed of what she’d accused him of, but then again, he was the one flirting with someone he shouldn’t have been. Not like she’d done anything to dissuade him, but, you know, he started it. As to why she flirted back...she didn’t have time to think about that.

She could have just chalked it up to him being him: he was easily one of the most handsome guys here, and he clearly took pride in (or at least relied on) his appearance—his hair was perfectly tousled and his clothes were expertly tailored. He thankfully hadn’t adopted the outlandish style of dress typical of the Capitol that some victors had taken to; he simply wore a black waistcoat over a light blue shirt with a navy jacket and slacks (of course, his shirt was unbuttoned a bit lower than it should have been, revealing some of the dark hair that covered his chest). 

She couldn’t help it if she was affected by him, given that most were (probably even Graham). And she shouldn’t be reading anything into the charms he used on her; those were probably the only thing keeping him alive. If there was one thing she knew, it was playing a role.

At the moment, he was picking at a small plate of finger food. She wasn’t sure if it was purely out of utility, or just to show off, but he was stabbing each morsel with his hook before eating. So, all told, she found Killian Jones both endearing and annoying.

Given his lack of a sense of urgency, Emma leaned back against the cushions and glanced around the room, taking stock of the rest of the fallout from the firestorm. Large, red Xs appeared over the screens of the tributes who’d succumbed; “Looks like that took out the last tributes from Agrabah and Erebor.” If she needed any further confirmation, Leroy, the mentor from Erebor, grumpily cursed and headed out of the room. Only one other tribute seemed to be tending to wounds, though. “The kid from Sherwood got hit good, too.”

Killian’s gaze left the cheese cube on his plate and flashed up. “Which one?”

“Alice, I think.” She hadn’t been paying enough attention to which one was which. “Not the one with the bow; the other one.”

Suddenly, Killian was on his feet, eyes darting around the room. “Goddamit, Eloise,” he muttered, then held his hand out to her. “Come on, let’s go.”

She ignored his hand and stood on her own, grabbing her sweater and bag. “Lead the way.” 

He took off at a brisk pace, but Emma glanced behind her before they left; Eloise was nowhere to be seen, so he must have figured she was already on it. If his urgency was in order to beat the other mentor to the punch, then Emma was definitely on board.

When they met with the sponsor—an older woman who was clearly well-preserved by the Capitol’s plastic surgeons—Emma turned on her well-rehearsed show face, which had quickly become second nature. It was a bit of a struggle to keep it on when Killian was making plans with the woman for later, but she followed his lead; he didn’t seem too distraught or disturbed by it, even if the woman’s garish black-and-white hair was far from what she’d consider attractive.

They were easily able to convince this Doctor Cruella to pony up the needed meds—more than enough for both their tributes—and, prizes in hand, headed back to the game center.

“I don’t mean to upset you, Emma, but I think we make quite the team.”

“Oh yeah?” she tossed back, feeling a bit giddy. The value on that medicine was probably astronomical, especially with how much they got.

“Aye. With your smarts and my good looks, we could run this thing.”

“We’ll see,” she teased back. With him, it was way too easy to forget that they were literally responsible for children’s lives—and, at the end of the day, would be fighting against each other at some point. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

Honestly though, they got along much too well. She didn’t know why that was a problem, but it was.

(Probably because of what she knew she was going to do later.)

Thankfully, nothing had changed when they got back to the game center; night was falling and things typically calmed down then, though not always. But the day had been exciting enough.

“Want me to send those off?” Emma offered, nodding at the small canisters in Killian’s hand.

Oddly, he looked sheepish, like he was hiding something. Now what was he up to?

“Uh, yeah—send this one,” he said, putting one in her hand. “But I was going to offer this one to Sherwood.”

Emma narrowed her eyes and could feel her magic licking at her spine in reaction to her sudden spike of anger; she took a breath to tamp it down before she said anything. “I thought…” She was going to ask him about her earlier hypothesis, but that clearly had been wrong. “I thought those were both for our kids?”

“One is more than enough to get them healed and then some, both of them. If we’ve got more, we may as well help out another realm who’s struggling.”

As poor as Sherwood was, Eloise had actually been doing decently on the sponsor end of things—or, at least, better than usual. Still, Emma had to wonder what kind of angle Killian was playing; briefly, her mind flickered to their first conversation, and the way he was staring at Alice’s screen the other day. 

“You know we can’t save all of the kids, right? Our priority is supposed to be our realm.”

Killian rolled his eyes at her. “You think I don’t know that? Darling, I taught you that. But no one ever said there wasn’t room for a bit of compassion.”

Compassion hadn’t won either of them their games; all it got Emma was a few more bricks around her heart.

“Look, her mentor is MIA and we shouldn’t just leave her to the wolves,” he continued. “Consider it a small act of rebellion, if you must. We may get turned down anyways, but at least we tried.”

Emma huffed; he was definitely appealing to her motherly instincts, which she’d been trying to put on mute while here. But rebellion...she could always get behind that.

“Fine.” 

He didn’t say anything; just turned and crossed the center to the game makers’ office. She tossed her bag on the sofa and rushed to follow, which was probably unnecessary because he let her go first when they got to the door. 

Everything that went in had to be inspected, though everyone knew that was merely a formality—people had sent weapons through before and no one batted an eye. (Something she was counting on.)

She was about to knock on the door when it swung open, taking Emma by surprise. Even more timely, Eloise was leaving. The expression on her face was somewhere between smug and annoyed—or maybe her face was just always that way? Either way, her eyes skimmed over Emma on their way to Killian. 

He stepped around Emma and held out the ointment. “Got this for Alice, unless you already took care of it.” It was rare for a mentor to actually enter the room until the end, unless there was an issue of some sort. 

“No, I didn’t.” Eloise’s tone was cool and indifferent. 

“It’s yours, then.” Killian was oddly serious. 

Eloise glanced down at it, then back up at him. “Send it yourself.” And just as cooly walked away.

Killian sighed in what Emma assumed was frustration, closing his eyes and gripping the container. There was clearly a history there Emma didn’t know about.

“What was that?” she asked. Regardless of whatever their history was, it was odd that a mentor would act so indifferent in the face of a valuable gift.

“Nothing new,” Killian muttered, before shaking his head and stepping forward.

The medicine was quickly approved and they were both given the opportunity to attach a note; Emma scribbled out a quick encouragement while Killian wrote something equally brief. God, that kid was probably going to be so confused, getting a gift from another realm. But she’d definitely appreciate it.

They ended up back on the couches, watching as well-trained birds delivered the packages they sent. (Emma honestly didn’t want to know how they always found their tributes—it probably had to do with the chip each tribute was implanted with, but she wouldn’t put it past Olympus to have something more sinister going on.) It was hard not to smile at the excitement from all three girls when they were delivered, and even Killian let out a sigh of relief. 

“Rebellion feels good, eh?” he teased.

She chuckled back, but answered with “Don’t let them hear you say that too loud. That’s a cursed word here.” She was trying to joke but they both knew it wasn’t far from the truth.

“Aye, I know,” he said, leaning back against the cushions. “I just get so...tired of it.”

“The Games?”

“Yeah. The death, the control. The parts of my life that have to stay hidden. The lies.” 

She definitely understood that.

“I know you know what I’m talking about,” he said pointedly.

But she didn’t appreciate being called out, and her hackles rose at the accusation. “Do you?”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “Please. I’ve been around you two for nearly a week now.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but had no idea what to say. It was easier to fake their romance when they knew they had an audience, but around Killian, she didn’t have it in her to lie—not about that. 

But she could evade it pretty well. “Yeah, well, what about you and Eloise?”

His brow furrowed. “What about her?”

“Is she some spurned ex-lover?” It maybe wasn’t fair to throw that back at him—again—but if there was one thing the games had taught her, it was that you couldn’t fight fair.

“I thought we were past that,” he answered, sounding slightly more hurt than she’d have liked. “But...something along those lines.”

“Did you break her heart?” She didn’t know why she needed to know. She just did.

“It’s more complicated than that, but no,” he answered truthfully. Then she watched as his armor slip back into place as he sat up and threw a coquettish look her way. “Why—are you jealous?”

“No,” she said, way too quickly and completely unconvincingly. (She was. A little. Dammit.)

Thankfully, he just replied with a deep chuckle, before leaning close enough that she could feel his breath on her neck. “Darling, if you want to get close to me, all you have to do is ask. No need to use propriety as an excuse.”

She squeezed a fist as she felt her magic react to him, trying to hold it back—but still, a glass broke somewhere on the other side of the room. One of the stewards picked up the shards and looked around, confused, which was Emma’s cue to get out for a bit.

Hastily, she stood up and ran her hands down her skirts, hoping to shake off the extra static. “I’m gonna take a walk; think you can man the fort for a bit?”

Killian followed. “I should actually tap out; Cruella is waiting.” But he remained close to her. “Can I follow you out?”

“Sure, I guess,” she answered, then didn’t wait for him to follow her out of the center.

They headed down the corridor in silence, Emma trying her best to keep distance between them. The butterflies she’d been feeling in her stomach whenever they got close like this returned, but that was the first time she’d risked exposing her magic because of it. It was kind of aggravating, honestly, how much that was happening—and that she had no idea what the exact trigger was: was it him? Was it just being in Olympus, and therefore in closer proximity to Neverland and its magic? Or was it related to what she had planned for later? Regardless, she needed to calm down.

She started rubbing her arms, either from cold or nerves—she wasn’t sure—but Killian noticed right away.

“Love, you’re shivering; here, let me—” He started to take off his jacket before she interrupted him.

“No, I’m fine; I just left my sweater back there.”

“I could try to warm you up, if you’d like,” he offered, with that all-too-charming grin and a seductive quirk of his eyebrow. Even if she knew it was for show, she couldn’t deny: it worked.

And tempting as it sounded, that was the last thing she needed. “I’ll just go grab it. You go on ahead.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“If you insist. Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Don’t have much choice, do we?”

She turned to head back—or to somewhere, just to walk—but then Killian grabbed her hand as she retreated. She wasn’t expecting it, and another shock let out, this time jolting him.

Shit.

Most of the time, she could play it off as static, but when she looked back at him, there was a wide-eyed expression of recognition on his face, first as he stared at where he was holding her forearm, then as he looked up at her. He knew.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she whispered.

He swallowed. “I won’t; you have my word,” was his solemn reply. “Especially if you don’t repeat what we said earlier.”

“I won’t.”

He nodded. “Until tomorrow, then.”

“Bye.”

They couldn’t get away from each other fast enough.

She ended up pacing the long hallway for a bit until she’d calmed down enough to go back in, but she knew she wouldn’t make it much longer; gods, sometimes she wished she had one of those magic-blocking cuffs, so she didn’t have to worry about being found out. At least one of the perks to being stuck in this castle was the fantastic baths and easy access to alcohol; even if it was the middle of the night, she’d have no trouble getting her hands on a glass of wine and a long, hot soak. But she had one thing to do first.

She slipped back into the game center relatively unnoticed; each of the few realms left had representation, but Ariel hadn’t yet arrived. And Emma didn’t know if she could face her once she did. She’d just have to hope the kids would be okay for a few minutes without anyone.

Her bag and sweater were still on the couch where she’d left them. She slipped her hand deep into her tote, feeling the smooth wood of the small hatchet she and Graham obtained earlier that day. What could she say? They’d learned from the best. They’d been saving it for the right moment, and she didn’t know if she’d get another.

Alliances couldn’t last forever. She knew that better than anyone. Which meant it was now or never for Tamara, especially with only 7 tributes left.

The door to the gamemaker office was ajar, so she slid in. “I have another sponsor gift,” she told the official at the desk, and pulled out the weapon.

The woman’s sterile expression turned stern as she inspected the tool. “I’m going to have to get this approved; hold on a minute.” Glancing over her shoulder, she called out, “Mr. Hatter? Can you take a look at this?”

The head gamemaker, Jefferson Hatter, was in the middle of a conversation with Sidney Glass, and held a finger up. Emma could hear him tell the other man, “We’ll make the announcement tomorrow. Excuse me,” before coming her way.

Jefferson assessed the weapon with a careful eye, pulling and tapping on it a bit to make sure nothing was concealed. “Looks fine to me. It can go.” Emma smiled to thank him, but he was already gone, off to deal with some other aspect of the games. She both loathed and envied his job.

“Alright, we’ll get this out. Did you want to add a note?”

“Yes, please.” The woman offered Emma a slip of paper and pen. She thought about it for a moment, and then began writing.

You know what to do. —E

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

Alice screamed. 

Logically, she knew that was a terrible idea and a sure-fire way to draw an enemy. But, she figured, if anyone was actually close enough to hear her, then they were also caught in the firestorm and, well...they weren’t exactly her problem anymore. 

So she screamed, and she ran, trying as hard as she could to outpace the heat that was chasing her heels and nipping at her skin. In a rare moment of clarity, she’d pulled her shirt over her mouth and nose to prevent breathing in smoke, but the only other thing she could do was get away—fast. 

She ran and ran and ran, focusing only on the feel of the forest floor under her feet until suddenly, the world changed and she had to throw her hands up to stop from running face-first into a tree—which she promptly collapsed upon, coughing and wheezing to get her air back. 

She also may have vomited. But it served her right for thinking that any berries she’d found here would be edible; those had been giving her fits since last night. 

When she was finally able to breathe properly, she took stock of whatever she could. A glance behind her showed the fire was far enough away that she was in the safe zone—but how she’d gotten that far away, she wasn’t sure. 

She shivered, which was awful for two reasons: one, it made her suddenly very aware of the burned skin on the backs of her arms and legs; and two, it sent a static shock through her body that answered her question: her magic had carried her to safety. 

Dammit. She’d been doing so well. Er, rather, as good as could be expected when the very air sent her magic sparking.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to will it away, to calm it down, to press it back inside that pool of power deep within. But it was begging for release; had been since she got here, really. She’d always thought it was a tall tale that Neverland was filled with magic, but she’d felt it ever since she arrived—that tingle in her spine, the spark at her fingertips. She’d been doing as best she could to keep it in but it’d finally had enough, apparently. 

“Bloody hell,” she murmured to herself as more sparks fell from her hand, landing near the raw skin at her ankles and then making her hiss in pain. 

God. Fuck everything. 

It didn’t matter that she was still in the middle of the arena, with death and threats all around her; she fell to the ground, put her head in her hands, and cried. Well, sobbed. She’d been holding it all in for days now and was done. 

Just because she had genes that had won the games didn’t mean she was emotionally prepared to be here.

That, and she just kept seeing the way the boy from her father’s realm swelled up when he got stung by the pixees, coughing and sputtering as he tried to breathe but was going into anaphylactic shock. She hadn’t wanted to kill him; she just wanted his backpack. She didn’t know he was allergic. 

God, what had she gotten herself into? 

“You’re the cleverest person I know, Starfish,” her papa had told her before she’d left Olympus. “Trust your instincts and be smart.” She was trying, but was it enough? 

And now it felt like her skin was on fire and she was thirsty and what good were those heavy clouds in the sky if it wasn’t going to rain? She could bloody feel the static from the storm and that just added to her tension.

Her tears did nothing to soothe her skin but did wonders for her emotionally. 

When she was finally spent (or dehydrated; it was hard to tell), she took another long moment to look up at the sky. It’d been painfully obvious to her right away that the stars it showed at night were artificial; her papa had taught her to navigate by the constellations but there were none she recognized. 

Now, though, all she saw was a haze, smoke blending into storm clouds. She needed to get back on the move and find a source of water. The spring she’d been frequenting was probably now nothing more than a steaming crater in the middle of burned-out wood. 

Hauling herself to her feet was, well, a feat, and the more she moved, the more her skin stung and ached. She had a middling knowledge of herbal plants that had helped with the pixee stings (even if she hadn’t gotten the brunt of that one, they still hadn’t been keen on her disturbing their home), but nothing to help with burns, save for cool water. (At least she knew what dreamshade looked like and to stay the hell away. After what happened to her uncle, Papa had made sure of that.)

Which made her search all the more urgent. There was still a little left in her canteen but she knew she’d need that to drink. That meant her only option was to keep pressing on until she found some.

Eventually, she crossed a tiny stream that looked to be reasonably clear; it’d have to do. The cool water helped but wasn’t a complete balm—but what else was she going to do? At least she’d be able to keep the wounds clean and hopefully avoid infection.

There was a thick copse of trees just a few feet away; once she’d finished tending her burns and refilling her canteen (after many long, long gulps of water), she shuffled over and, after checking it over for dreamshade and finding none, collapsed inside it. Night was coming and she definitely needed to rest.

She’d just gotten kind of comfortable when a quiet tweeting started outside her makeshift shelter. Ugh, she didn’t want to get up again. But that sound could only mean one thing: a sponsor gift.

She’d gotten one earlier in the games, after a day or so without food: just a loaf of bread, but one she recognized as coming from her favorite bakery back home, with orange marmalade baked in. It was definitely a rare treat for the games, and possibly undeserved, but it’d given her the energy to keep going. (Which was when she found the spring.)

She poked her head out of her enclosure to see a small container sitting a few feet away, a deceptively slight songbird sitting nearby. It flew off once it saw it’d gotten her attention, back to wherever it was Olympus released the carrier birds from. With a wince, she got up, practically crawled the distance to the gift, then moved back inside as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t a large container, but it looked expensive. A note was taped on top; she peeled it off first and was both surprised and not to see that it didn’t have any words: just a small doodle of a starfish. Which meant this came directly from her papa. “Thank you,” she said into the night, hoping he’d see or hear her (and wishing she could say more).

She stashed the note in her pocket and fiddled with the jar to open it, taking way too long to figure out that the top twisted off, revealing a creamy white substance. She brought it to her face to sniff it—it had a vaguely floral scent—but leaned a bit too close to it and clumsily stuck her nose right in the stuff. Woops.

Almost immediately, though, she felt a cooling sensation on her skin. Did that mean…? She didn’t waste any more time in thought and took a modest amount on her fingers, then spread it on the raw skin of her opposite arm.

The effect was instantaneous, and she sighed in relief. For the first time in hours, that part of her body didn’t feel like it was still aflame. Quickly, she applied the ointment on all her other burns, careful to not use it all up but thrilled to finally feel better.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she called out again. She didn’t know exactly how, but she could tell her papa was watching. Their last hug—in private, before the hovercopters took them to the arena—was impressed in her memory, and she could sometimes still feel the fatherly kiss he’d left on her temple. (Her mother...well, she’d shown as much affection as she was capable of, but it was definitely one of the more awkward hugs in her lifetime.)

God, what would her parents think of her now? Logically, she knew they’d be the last people to judge her, but she’d killed a person now; the pain in the boy’s dying screams would probably play in her dreams forever. Hell, it was starting to again; she put her hands on her ears to try to block it out, though it did little. This was no place to dwell on that, though; with any luck—as morbid as the idea was—she’d have a whole lifetime to. But she had to keep going forward, not looking back. 

Since she had a moment to breathe now, she pulled the bag into her lap and stashed the remaining ointment in one of the smaller pockets. Goodness, this really was a great bag: her jacket was a tattered, melted mess, but this thing barely had a scorch mark on it. She knew that kind of material existed—her realm was responsible for textiles, after all—but civilians never saw anything like this. Olympus bastards, hogging all the good stuff. 

Her brief moment of jealousy was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn, so she dug out the blanket the pack had come with, set the bag aside, and tucked herself in; it got bloody cold at night and the blanket just might be her favorite thing. 

She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep when suddenly, it was daylight. Crap. Yeah, she needed the sleep, but that meant she missed the announcement of who had passed away during the previous day; she thought she heard a couple of cannons in the mess of the forest fire but she hadn’t encountered anyone since the boy from Atlantica, so she had no idea who it would be. 

Hopefully not Robyn. She hadn’t seen her, either; they’d been on opposite sides of the Apple Tree and had probably gone in opposite directions. From a logical standpoint, Alice’s odds were better if Robyn wasn’t still in the game—she was fierce with that bow, if she’d gotten one—but she liked her too much to wish she was gone.

And that kiss...her lips tingled at the thought.

(And her heart raced and butterflies flitted in her stomach and all those cheesy cliches that turned out to be cliches for a reason. She was Killian Jones’ daughter; of course she was a hopeless romantic.)

But following that train of thought into daydreams wasn’t going to help her at all. She stood and started to pack up, and noticed that her burns didn’t hurt anywhere near as much; a glance at her forearm showed it was mostly healed. Thank bloody goodness. 

After getting her blanket put away and a quick sip of water, she was in the middle of applying more of the burn cream when trumpets sounded overhead—the ones that usually accompanied the midnight death announcement. God, she’d been more tired than she realized if she managed to sleep through those blaring alarms.

“Attention tributes,” Sidney Glass announced. “There has been a recent change to the rules.” 

Alice tilted her head and looked at the sky, even though she couldn’t see anything but foliage; that never happened this late in the games. 

He continued, “If the last two tributes remaining are from the same district, they will both be crowned victors. Thank you, and remember: all magic comes with a price.”

Alice dropped the container of ointment. Seriously? If Robyn was still alive, they could go home together?

Blindly, she ran out from her hiding place and called out for the other girl. Not that she was going to get a reply, but that was her immediate reaction. Thankfully, no one else was around to hear her outburst, but the images of the remaining tributes were up on the screen—and Robyn’s was still there, right next to Alice’s. She couldn’t hold back her grin. (At least, not until her magic sparked her again.)

It looked like Phrygia still had two tributes in, too, so that was probably the most worrisome competition, though she thought she’d seen the girls from Atlantica and Misthaven together at some point. 

She was getting ahead of herself; would Robyn actually stand a better chance with her around than she would alone? What if she was already in an alliance? What if she didn’t actually want to share a win with her? (She didn’t think that would be the case, but it didn't take much for Alice’s mind to spiral.)

Whatever. It couldn’t hurt to try to find her. Not that she had any idea where to look, but she’d be damned if she didn’t give it a go. “A man who doesn’t fight for what he wants deserves what he gets,” her papa always said. “Well, woman,” he’d add, smirking.

Once she packed up, she headed in the direction of the central lake in the arena; at the very least, it would be a starting point, and with any luck, Robyn would have the same idea. 

She’d hardly gone a few meters when something on the forest floor caught her eye: a feather, white as snow. “That’s odd,” she said to herself. “There aren’t any birds here that look like that.” She’d seen all manner of bluebird, jay, and wren, but nothing so pure and bright as this. It reminded her of a swan’s, but this place was oddly devoid of waterfowl. 

Regardless, she tucked it in her pocket and set back off, imagining her movements were as graceful as that bird’s (and that, if the occasion called for it, she could be as fierce as one).

A couple hours later, she was near the lake, and on high alert; any open area was dangerous, especially this late in the games. Her tattered jacket was tied around her waist and her hair was in a messy braid; the heat was starting to become oppressive, but there was a charge to the air that kept reacting with her magic and making her wonder if a storm was coming.

She was staring at the sky, trying to figure out what the clouds were saying, when she was suddenly flying towards them. Her ascent peaked, and then she yelped as she fell back to earth, only to be jolted to a halt in midair by something that was as soft as it was constraining. She started to fight against it, looking for a weak point, and found many useless holes—it was a net.

“If you’ve got any last words, say them now,” a familiar voice shouted intimidatingly.

“Robyn? Is that you?” she answered, twisting in her restraints to see out.

“Alice?” Robyn called back, now in disbelief. “Shit. Hold on—I’ll get you out of there.”

Alice held still, not really sure what she was waiting for, when she heard the whizz of something flying towards her, followed by her actually falling to the ground; she was higher up than she’d thought and the wind was knocked out of her.

She laid there, taking gulping breaths of air, when Robyn swam into her blurry vision. “Oh my god, are you okay? I’m so sorry!”

“I’m fine,” Alice coughed, unconvincingly, but took one more deep breath before that was closer to the truth. “Where the hell did you get a fishing net?”

“It was in my pack,” Robyn shrugged as she helped Alice up to sitting. “It must have been meant for someone from Atlantica.”

“Okay, but then how did you learn to do...whatever that was with it?”

She gave a devilish smirk that set those butterflies alight in Alice’s belly. “Remember Alexandra, from school?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember how we had that feud that seemed to end very suddenly?”

She didn’t—Alice was definitely on the periphery when it came to classmate drama—but she could pretend. “Uh-huh.”

“Let’s just say when I got my revenge on her for stealing my first girlfriend, she spent a lot of time thinking about it. While suspended in midair.”

“Damn,” she sighed, but she was honestly more fixated on the ‘first girlfriend’ part of that statement. She couldn’t lie—she’d been worried Robyn might have just been placating her, or getting in some final kicks when Alice stole her kiss; she hadn't been certain Robyn liked girls, too. So at least that was one less thing for her jumbled mind to be anxious about.

And then any other fears were put to rest when Robyn launched herself at her in a bruising hug. “God, I’m so glad I found you,” she murmured into her neck, and Alice didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around her, too. She closed her eyes at how perfect they seemed to fit together, even with the awkward way they were sitting. 

“Me too,” she whispered back.

“You heard the announcement?” Robyn asked without pulling away.

“Aye.”

“Wanna go home together?”

“Oh, fuck yes.”

Robyn giggled. “Then let’s do this.”

They helped each other to standing, brushed off the forest detritus, and then stared at each other for a long, charged moment, somewhere between intense and awkward (probably both). Because all Alice could think about, yet again, was the kiss, and if the way Robyn was licking her lips was anything to go by, she probably was too. Should she try it again? Was the ball in Robyn’s court? Should she not even be fucking worrying about it because they were literally in a fight to the death? 

At least Robyn didn’t seem as unsure as Alice, and cut through the thick air between them with a “Let’s go.”

Alice fell into step behind her, keeping an eye on both the path and the sky; the clouds were continuing to darken.

“What’s your count?” Robyn asked as they picked their way across the arena, vaguely in the direction of the lake. 

She didn’t need to ask for clarification, and shuddered again at the memory of the boy’s dying screams. “One. You?”

“Same,” she said. “It’s how I got the bow; off one of the kids from Arendelle.”

“Did you get them with the net, too?”

“No; they tried to shoot at me and missed. Turns out my aim is good even without the bow.”

There was a hint of regret in her voice that Alice could definitely identify with. She jogged ahead a bit and reached for Robyn’s hand, giving it what she hoped was an encouraging squeeze. Robyn looked down at their joined hands, then up at her, and the shy smile she gave was just a bit of sunshine in this gray day.

But then a big, fat raindrop hit her nose, making her gasp in surprise. Then Alice felt one on the back of her neck, dripping down her shirt—and it was cold.

They could hear drops falling on the dense foliage in a crescendo around them, and suddenly, they were caught in a downpour. 

“There’s a cave nearby we can hide in!” Robyn shouted, having to over the volume of the storm. 

Thunder rumbled overhead. “Lead the way!” Alice yelled back.

Robyn clenched her hand around Alice’s before letting go, and then they took off in a sprint back the way they’d came. They darted through the clearing where the net still sat in a heap on the ground, then turned and headed in the opposite direction from where Alice had come, hopping over fallen logs and trying to keep their footing over increasingly muddy terrain.

Alice was starting to shiver, but Robyn hadn’t slowed, so she couldn’t either. Her magic was still reacting to the static in the air, so she had to keep that tamped down, too, lest it carry her away again—and they needed to stay together.

Thunder and lightning continued to build as they went, and it felt like they were running towards the center of the storm. As if in confirmation, a bolt of lightning struck a tree not 100 yards from where they were; both girls screamed, but Alice managed to stay upright. Robyn, though, lost her footing and fell forward, then cried out again.

Alice caught up to her and offered a hand to help her up—but Robyn didn’t take it. “My ankle—I think I twisted it,” Robyn hissed.

So Alice did the next logical thing: she knelt down, got an arm under Robyn, and helped her back to standing. “How far away are we?”

“It’s just up there,” she nodded in the direction they were headed. “There’s a big rock formation; you can’t miss it.”

Much slower, they continued on, Alice taking extreme care with each step. It seemed to take forever, but eventually, there it was, almost looking like it had been cut perfectly from the overhanging rock—which it probably had.

It was deeper than it looked from the outside; more than enough to keep them dry. Alice carried Robyn to the far wall and helped her sit down, before both were finally able to catch their breaths.

“At least it’s not acid rain,” she quipped. Robyn gave her a tight smile back, but it quickly morphed to a grimace when she tried to move her leg. “Here; let me check it.”

Alice carefully stepped around Robyn and crouched down near her right ankle, the one that was injured. The light was dim this far in, and though she knew she could illuminate the space with her magic, she didn’t want to expose herself like that just now, if at all. 

“I’m going to touch it, okay?” she said, hoping that if she gave some warning, it’d hurt less. Robyn just nodded at her.

Gingerly, she brushed her fingers against the ankle, watching Robyn’s reaction. It didn’t change, but what was under her touch was far from what she expected. 

They were both soaked to the bone, but her skin was a different kind of wet, almost slimy.

“Oh, no,” she cursed, then jumped up to get closer to the light.

“What is it?” Robyn asked, but her voice was weak.

Alice only got close enough to the light to see what was on her fingers, but it was as she feared: blood. “Fuck.”

She ran back and, without thinking, created a ball of light in her palm; she needed to see what was going on.

And it was worse than expected: a long, jagged gash ran up the side of Robyn’s shin, and it was still trickling blood; Alice was no expert, but it looked deep, and probably had something to do with the ashy she could now see on Robyn’s face.

“You’re bleeding, badly,” she told her. “Do we have anything to sew it up?”

“W-wait,” Robyn stammered, as if she didn’t even register what she’d just been told. “You have magic?”

Alice gave a sheepish glance toward her hand, then back up at Robyn through her lashes. “Uh, yes?”

Robyn just gaped and blinked at her a few times, then her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.

Bloody fuck.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

thanks again for reading! more drama to come, of course ;) tagging some friends  @kat2609​ @thesschesthair​ @xpumpkindumplingx​ @shipsxahoy​ @amortentia-on-the-rocks​ @mryddinwilt​ @cocohook38​ @annytecture​ @wingedlioness​ @word-bug​ @distant-rose​ @wellhellotragic​ @welllpthisishappening​ @let-it-raines​ @pirateherokillian​ @its-imperator-furiosa​ @killianmesmalls​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @ineffablecolors​​ @laschatzi​​ @ive-always-been-a-pirate​ @nfbagelperson​​ @stubblesandwich​​ @killian-whump​ @phiralovesloki​​ @athenascarlet​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @snowbellewells​​ @idristardis​​ @scientificapricot​​ @searchingwardrobes​

[dangerdaysdiary]

From Cassie the Venomous... A Danger Days FAQ

You can find the original post on Cassie’s website here.

Frequently asked 'Danger Days...' Questions Answered!March 18, 2011Now that My Chemical Romance's Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys is out, I'm finding more and more questions about it leading people to this site. I figured it would be beneficial to address some of the ones that are asked most frequently in one place for the benefit of all! I hope this helps! ORIGINAL POST:  November 24, 2010 @ 11:57 P.M. UPDATED: March 18, 2011 @ 9:47 P.M. ____ The Killjoys Fun Ghoul -Corresponding MCR member: Guitarist, Frank Iero -Raygun: Green with horror-style stickers attached to it -Symbol: A smiling face with one eye crossed out and a jagged mouth -Physical Description: Wears a yellow shirt with black-striped accents over which he wears a military vest. In the video for "SING," Fun Ghoul bears a scar on the right side of his face at his mouth. -Mask: Purple and green Frankenstein mask -Additional Information: ... Jet Star -Corresponding MCR member: Guitarist, Ray Toro -Raygun: Blue with red and white details and the text "BECAUSE I SAID SO" -Symbol: Star with a face and a lightening bolt rising from its left side -Physical Description: Wears an eyepatch on his right side. His jacket displays an American flag on its back. -Mask: Black astronaut-style helmet -Additional Information: The original name for Jet Star was "Raygun Jones." Kobra Kid -Corresponding MCR member: Bassist, Mikey Way -Raygun: Red with white details and a decal that says "deluxe" (his raygun was originally named "Demon-shark Deluxe"). -Symbol: the face of a hissing cobra -Physical Description: Wears a red jacket over a yellow-and-black zebra-print shirt -Mask: Yellow helmet with blue and red eye-like details that displays the message “GOOD LUCK” on its visor -Additional Information: In addition to his raygun, Kobra Kid can also be seen using a power glove in the video for “Na Na Na…." Mikey describes Kobra Kid as a "misunderstood" character with a "short temper" who "knows Kung-Fu." Party Poison -Corresponding MCR member: Vocalist, Gerard Way -Raygun: yellow with pink details and "Give Me Money" written in Japanese on its side. -Symbol: pill with an "X" beneath it -Physical Description: Wears a blue jacket with red details, a "dead pegasus" logo on the front and his Killjoy symbol on the back -Mask: yellow domino mask with blue circular details and clown-style eyes or a decorated "mousekat" helmet. -Additional Information: Party Poison was among the Danger Days... characters active on Twitter preceding the album's release. The Killjoys' names, which Mikey Way told NME are "themed after designer drugs," started as the names of their rayguns, but later turned into character names. The band has said that their Killjoy personas are not characters they are playing, but how they picture themselves in the future. Are the Killjoys Dead? Currently, as a result of the “SING” video, the Killjoys are presumed dead. However, a picture from Gerard Way of “Party Poison” in what appears to be an unzipped body bag (left) captioned “Killjoys never die” has many fans questioning how dead they truly are. UPDATE: April 10, 2011 Dr. Death Defying tweeted: that "there are four acceptable levels of dead after posting an ode to Party Poison, whom he called "dearly departed." More information will follow if the four levels of dead are explained further. Dr. Death Defying Played by Steve Righ? of Mindless Self Indulgence, Dr. Death Defying is the smooth-talking narrator who filters in-and-out of Danger Days…. He is a D.J. for 109 F.M., WKIL, a pirate radio station that operates in the Zones. He is recognized by his “Slaughtermatic Sounds” jacket, which also says “Jackals” and “Philly,” his aviator sunglasses and the bandanna he wears tied around his head. Dr. Death Defying uses an electric wheelchair because of an apparent injury to his left leg, to which an electric brace is strapped. In an hour-long video “listening party” hosted by the D.J., the character implied that he is a veteran, possibly of the Helium Wars, which have been alluded to vaguely. Show Pony and the Girl Show Pony, the character who can be recognized by his "NOISE" half-shirt, blue-and-white polka-dot tights & helmet and rollerskates is the companion of Dr. Death Defying, the narrator of Danger Days... (played by Steve from Mindless Self Indulgence). Show Pony is played by performer Ricky "Rebel" (Twitter | Reverbnation). Rebel opened for My Chemical Romance as Show Pony at the band's Hollywood album release show. The actress who plays the Killjoy girl in the videos, whose character name has thus far only been "the Girl," goes by Grace Jeanette. She, too, is an actress and a musical performer. The Girl's role in the Danger Days world appears to be a significant one; as, she was kidnapped by Better Living Industries for a stull-unknown reason. The Zones and Battery City

The Killjoys world centers around Battery City and its surrounding concentric Zones. The map to the left shows how the Zones are laid out in relation to the city. Utopian Battery City is central, corporate, clean and the center of manufacturing. It is where Battery Towers is located. Battery City, California is the setting for My Chemical Romance's "SING" video, to give you a better perception of what it looks like. The setting for the "Na Na Na..." video is in the Zones, which are a more lawless, desert terrain in which the Killjoys live, run and fully embrace their freedom. The Zones are dirty, wild and dangerous-- the opposite of Battery City. Geographic landmarks include: Route Guano, which is the road on which Gerard has said, "the shit happens." It is where Jet Star and Kobra Kid are "ghosted" by an exterminator in the Danger Days... track "Jet-Star and The Kobra Kid/Traffic Report." "The Getaway Mile," which may be a specific location, is mentioned in the song "Bulletproof Heart." There is also a place which Dr. Death Defying on Twitter called "Wolfblood Beach." Better Living Industries Better Living Industries (Also known as BLI, BL/ind, or BL industries) is the corporation that controls Battery City. The corporation strives to bring about structure in a post-apocalyptic world. It is known for producing emotion-eliminating medications as well as every other manufactured product one can acquire in 2019. BLI crosses over from the Killjoys world and into real life. The made-up corporation has its own  web site with products that you can actually purchase, a mission statement and a "Zone Report" in both Japanese and English.  Also, MCR takes it a step further by having changed the name under which their music is published to "Better Living Industries Music," which you can see in the liner notes of Danger Days.... BLI also overtakes the edited version of Danger Days..., whiting out the internal album art, taking away the lyrics and putting its smiling face logo (above right) all over it. The Danger Days: California 2019 Edition box set is packaged in a BLI box and the 3-song The Mad Gear & Missile Kid E.P. that comes with it is printed on a disc made to look like a BLI brand CD-R. Check out some BL/ind commercials and "Fact News" reports. Dead Pegasus Dead Pegasus is a 2019 oil company. Korse, Draculoids and S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W

Korse is an exterminator for BL/ind's SCARECROW Unit. In the videos, he is played by comic writer Grant Morrison. The "SING" video has raised speculation among fans that Korse could possibly a robot of some sort; as, he is seemingly "activated" in his chamber by the push of a button. Some also speculate, based on Gerard Way's character sketches and his indicating that Korse suffers from "Zone sickness," that he may stay in the  chamber shown in the "SING" video for medical reasons. Grant Morrison revealed to MTV that Korse is "intimately connected with the Killjoys and their secret history," which has yet to be revealed. The SCARECROW Unit of BL/ind is a sort of police force. Korse leads it, and The Draculoids are the other exterminators that appear to be of lower ranking than Korse. They're a "clean-up crew" for the Zones, getting rid of the things and people who do not comply with the monochromatic standards of Better Living Industries. The Mad Gear And Missile Kid

The Mad Gear and Missile Kid is My Chemical Romance's alter-ego band for Danger Days... Mad Gear is what MCR imagined the Killjoys would listen to in 2019. Fans who ordered the California 2019 Box Set received a bonus E.P. of the three tracks MCR recorded as The Mad Gear And Missile Kid: 1. F.T.W.W.W. (acronym for "fuck this whole wide world") 2. "Mastas Of Ravenkroft" 3. "Black Dragon Fighting Society" The genesis of TMG&MK came with the writing of "Black Dragon Fighting Society," which was originally recorded for the pre-Danger Days album the band "scrapped." "F.T.W.W.W." and "Mastas of Ravenkroft" followed as songs created specifically for TMG&MK. Gerard Way told Alternative Press that the MCR is interested in creating a full album as The Mad Gear and Missile Kid and that they would like to play shows as the alter-ego band on off-days of tours in the future. EVENTS in the Zones 2012: The Great Fires 2017: The Pig Bomb ?: Helium Wars

-- If there's something about which you are confused that you would like added to this post, let me know! Consider this a perpetual draft that will update as often as you, Reader, need it to. Also, please don't hesitate to submit corrections! I have compiled the information in this post using knowledge I've gained from interviews of the band by several sources. Suggested Reading to Expand your Killjoys Knowledge: The Twitter development of the Zones presented in a linear fashion. A full interview transcript series posted by Coup De Main Magazine. XoXo c.

[thats-how-i-role]

Almost Missed You

Jem was propped up on the communal bathroom counter, a cigarette in one hand and their phone in the other. On leg was hanging over the counter while the other was propped up. Their tie was loosened, and their hair was a shaggy mess in comparison to when they were in class.

“How’s the new school?” Elgar asked, speaking to Jem over the phone.

Jem shrugged, even though he couldn’t see them. “Sucks without you guys. But it’s also really weird. Like people only stick to their own groups, and the teachers are totally okay with that. Not to mention it’s always foggy here.”

“You’re in England Jem, put up with it and find Harry Styles for me.” Elgar joked, which only made Jem’s longing for their best friend that much stronger. “Meet any new friends? Someone to replace me?”

“No,” Jem chuckled. “No one could even try.”

Elgar scoffed, “Well you should at least try and find a new gang. I’m worried you’ll become too much of a hermit. Don’t get a douchey moustache or neckbeard, I beg of you.”

“Fine, fine.” Jem grumbled, taking a bite of their sandwich. “But I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Stop eating your lunch in the bathroom by yourself for starters.” Elgar mentioned and Jem rolled their eyes. And began packing up their lunch nonetheless.

“Don’t call me out when you’re in a different timezone, dickweed.”

Elgar laughed on the other side of the phone, “I’ll let you go. Mingle, be brave padawan.”

With that, Elgar hung up. Jem tossed their bag on their shoulder, and walked towards the dining hall. There, Jem saw many groups of friends that they would rather die than be a part of. For the Anne Rice Academy For Wayward Children, was famously known for making troubled students into assholes. They were watched by the old students, judgement and disgust varying from person to person.

Eventually, Jem spotted two tables. At one, there was a girl with reddish-brown hair and deep blue eyes scanning the pages of a leather bound journal. Across from her was a boy, who decided to forgo the tie and blazer from his uniform. He had long, straight white hair and silver eyes. He seemed even more pissed off that he had to be there than Jem was.

At the other table were three others. They seemed to be in deep conversation, but none of them seemed to be on the same page. One was a short girl, with shaggy, black hair and amber eyes. The other, who was bombastic and loud was a tall boy with a blonde and white undercut. A blue bridge piercing gracing his nose. And last but not least, a lean boy, with black hair, sea green eyes, and his right ear pierced with a hoop.

Jem didn’t want to be forced to make conversation so they sat down with the bookworm and the frustrated boy. They awkwardly approached the table and gestured to a seat near the girl.

“Is this seat taken?” They asked, giving her a kind smile.

The girl looked up from her journal, seeming shocked that someone was speaking to her. “No, go ahead.” After Jem sat down, the girl continued to make polite conversation. “You’re the new kid, right?”

“Call me Jem.” They introduced themselves, beginning to pick at their food. After a moment of silence, Lew awkwardly went back to her book and Jem wanted to collapse into themselves, figuring they came off as a bit rude. “And you are?”

“Lewellyn V’lain.” She replied, and then gestured to the boy. “That’s Umbra, he doesn’t talk much. Finds it pointless.”

“I talk to Lew.” Umbra stated, his low and gravelly voice was commanding. “That’s it, even if she gives away my trade secrets.”

Lewellyn laughed saying, “Your name is not a trade secret.”

“That’s what you think.” Umbra quipped, smirking a bit.

Jem began to loosen up a bit, but really wanted to get to the question they’ve been wondering since they got here. “Is it just me, or is this town really weird?”

“Oh, you mean the curfew?” Lewellyn replied. “We’ve had some people go missing once every few weeks for the past couple years. It’s mostly just to keep us safe.”

Jem nodded, “But there’s still so many other people that stay out past it. And they don’t even get in trouble for it.”

Lewellyn shrugged, “I’m not sure myself.”

“I’m thinking aliens personally.” Umbra pitched in once again, earning a laugh from both Jem and Lew this time around.

A few minutes of banter got exchanged between the three of them before a girl with scarlet red hair approached, an unfortunate cliche posse following up behind her. The girl took her water bottle and tipped it over Lew’s head.

Before a drop of water could land on Lew though, Jem was able to grab the girl’s wrist.

They ripped the bottle from her hands saying, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Lewellyn looked solemnly at Jem, whispering, “Don’t Jem, just leave it.”

“Aww,” the girl mockingly cooed, “the freaks got herself a little boyfriend.”

Jem let out a humourless laugh, “Wow, somehow you managed to say something stupid and also be politically incorrect.”

The girl tapped her chin thoughtfully, her devilish smirk never wavering. “Would you look at this? Fresh meat that’s ready to be pounded.”

“That is the title of my sex tape.” Jem quipped, also unfazed.

Suddenly, Jem felt a presence next to them. It was the black haired girl from the other table. She came up to just about Jem’s shoulder height.

The dark haired girl grabbed the bottle from Jem’s hand, and without hesitation, dumped it on her own head. “Ah, refreshing.”

Next thing anyone knew, the dark haired girl rammed the plastic bottle in the mean girl’s face. Jem froze in shock and decided on taking a back seat to this one. The boys from the other table walked over and the white haired boy hooked his arms under the dark haired girl’s, holding her back. Not before the girl could kick the mean girl in the stomach.

One of the boys that was the mean girl’s sycophant came and tried to deck Jem, who was able to duck out of the way.

When Jem opened their eyes, the bully was on the ground with his nose bleeding. Umbra was behind Jem, fists high and ready for a brawl. And a brawl was exactly what they were all gonna get. Bodies colliding, fists and elbows crashing into bone. It took a few minutes before supervisors and teachers were able to separate the two groups. The only one who was relatively untouched was Lew, who was hiding underneath the table. Despite being covered in blood and bruises, this was the most Jem had felt like they belonged in a long time.

To say the least, everyone got detention.

The teachers put the two sides of the battle in different time slots for detention in order to keep any further conflict from arising. Jem was placed with Lew, Umbra, the dark haired girl, the guy with sea green eyes, and the boy with the bridge piercing. The room was completely silent as the group of “misfits” as many would say, studied their homework.

Jem’s eyes began to ache, trying with all their might to make sense of the words that would come easily to others. Eventually, they caved and just toyed with their pencil in silence. They were startled when the secretary came over the intercom, calling for the teacher.

The teacher stood up, closing their laptop. “No one move, or make a sound. I’ll only be a minute.”

As soon as the teacher left the room, the boy with green eyes stood up from his seat, “My god that took longer than I thought it would.”

The white haired boy also rose from his seat, stretching. “I already got slapped with a ruler in the last two detentions, I ain’t risking the third time.” Umbra let out a small laugh but remained silent.

Lew was still fidgeting in her seat, but decided to speak. “I’m really sorry you guys had to go through that. I mean, you don’t even know me”

Jem walked over to her and sat on her desk. “Honestly, anytime. I think it was more about my temper than actually defending you.” Lew gave Jem a small smile, which they returned. Then Jem turned to the other girl, “by the way, you backed me up in the strangest way possible. And I don’t know if I should thank you or call you a therapist.”

The girl shrugged, “She had it coming. She got me in trouble last week because I tried to steal her sparkly pen set. I’ve been looking for a reason since.”

Jem smiled, turning back to Lew. “See, we didn’t fight for you. We had our own selfish reasons.”

Lew playfully shoved Jem, “Jeez, I feel so special.”

“Not gonna lie,” the green eyed boy approached the two, “starting a fight on your first day, pretty ballsy kid. Alveyn Jones, pleasure.”

“Jem, this is Lew and that shadow over there,” Jem pointed in Umbra’s direction, who just flipped Jem off without looking, “is Umbra.”

Alveyn nodded, “the little klepto is Aerilyn, and that guy over there is Volstigg.”

In the ten minutes that the teacher was gone, the two groups of three merged into one. No matter how reluctant Umbra was either. Not many of them had things in common. But it was their individuality that linked them together. And their combined stupidity that got them caught, and put in detention together the next day. It didn’t matter as much though, because they’d all still be together.

A few weeks later, after school the group snuck off the school grounds. Lewellyn told the group that she had discovered something fun with one of her friends the other day. Alveyn brought the alcohol, Volstigg and Lew brought the snacks, and Jem brought something to smoke. Even though the walk was a little gruelling with the fog rolling in, they made it to an abandoned church

There was a small, run down cemetery off to the left of the building. The windows were shattered, and the roof was caved in. Upon entering, they noticed the pews, and altar overturned and sun bleached. There were definitely noises of rats, or other rodents but the aesthetic was so unmistakable that each person decided to live with it.

The group pulled seats out of the rubble, and found positions to get comfortable. Breaking out the chips and rum was the first priority, along with some tunes chosen by Aerilyn. Mostly because how Aerilyn’s playlists could jump from heavy metal to chipmunks remixes was incredibly amusing.

Alveyn rubbed his hands in anticipation, “So, for the question we’ve all been waiting. Why are we at the school for Wayward Children?”

“You go first smartass.” Aerilyn challenged.

Alveyn dramatically cleared his throat for presentation, “I don’t know my parents. They ditched me when I was a young lad. I got picked up by a gang, and eventually years down the line the police caught up to them. So now I’m basically just floating around until I turn eighteen, die, or get imprisoned.” Alveyn took a swig of alcohol before gesturing to Umbra. “Your turn grumpy.”

“No.” Umbra stated, clearly unamused. “Jem, you go.”

“Wait, if you get to skip I should be allowed.” Jem argued, not seriously upset.

“No.” Umbra repeated, eyeing Jem down, who eventually conceded.

Jem rolled their eyes, taking a drag of their cigarette before saying, “Shit went down in America. Can’t really get into it but my mom wanted to ship me off to make sure nothing bad happened to me. She only had two parenting modes anyway, working and worrying. This at least takes one of the modes away.”

“Not even a hint!” Volstigg cried. “We’re best friends!”

“We’re not best friends.” Jem stated plainly, yet they were obviously amused.

“We’re good friends!” Volstigg argued.

“Still nope.”

After a beat Volstigg conceded but still passionately yelled, “We’re friends!”

The group laughed, some until their sides hurt. They continued going around the circle, and it turned out that Jem wasn’t the only person there with things to hide. The gathering went well into the evening, until most people passed out from booze, drugs, both, or Umbra was just tired.

Lew and Jem were the last ones awake. The two were huddled on the same bench, staring up at the nights sky through the hole in the ceiling. Their arms were side by side. At any moment one of them could’ve just shifted and they would be holding hands.

But they didn’t.

“Do you miss your mom?” Lew asked, leaning her head on Jem’s shoulder.

Jem physically strained themselves from being so still as to not disturb Lew. “I mean, sometimes. It was easier when my Dad was around. But my Mom was mostly just sad nowadays. That was hard to watch.”

“I’m sorry.” Lew’s voice was now barely above a whisper.

Jem kept at the same tone, worried about waking the others. “Yeah, me too.” After a moment of silence, Jem continued, “What about you? Do you miss your parents?”

Lew shook her head, “Not really. I mean, even when they were right in front of me they weren’t really there, y’know? At least this way they don’t have to pretend to be interested in what I do, or what I have to say.”

Jem smiled sadly, looking down at Lew, “you never have to think that I’m pretending to care, okay? I will always listen and care about what you have to say.”

Lew grinned at Jem and leaned in. Jem froze, but relaxed when Lew just nuzzled into Jem’s neck. Jem, not exactly sure what to do in this moment, held Lew in their arms. Partly to keep her warm, mostly to melt in her embrace.

A few more weeks passed with the group of unlikely friends. Volstigg desperately trying to get everyone to admit that they were at least good friends. Lew and Jem sharing stolen glances at one another. Umbra enjoying the noise of his friends, even though he didn’t always participate. And Alveyn and Aerilyn always searching for their next adventure.

But one day, Aerilyn wasn’t there.

The group asked around for their friend, but to no avail. They assumed she either was skipping class or ran away. But the misfits knew better than that. She wouldn’t come up with anything crazy on her own. Yet no one took them seriously.

Aerilyn fell of the face of the earth. No sign of her in town, at the dorms, or even at the church where the friend group spent most of their free hours. None of knickknacks were taken with her, and she left any money she pickpocketed as well. She had completely disappeared.

Eventually, even though they missed her, the group stopped looking. Figuring out that if she was around, or wanted to keep in touch she would’ve done it by now. There was a message sent to Volstigg’s phone once that they might’ve been her but it was a dead end. As Christmas passed by, everyone just hoped that she was okay.

But returning from Christmas Break was a little less heartwarming than the group intended. Because after Aerilyn, Alveyn didn’t return either. Again, asking around and everyone just figured Alveyn ran off.

The way the Academy was treating these kids, as if they were just problems. They didn’t care if they ran off to join the circus or may be cold and starving in the ditch somewhere. Lew left as many messages on his phone as she could. Some sweet, some not so. Jem and Volstigg began putting up missing persons posters up for both him and Aerilyn, who still hadn’t turned up. Umbra went underground for a couple days, asking around for information and yet still came up short.

In such a short time, one went to six, that turned to four. It was odd how the group changed along with the seasons, almost unnerving in a way. When the four friends went to the church now, it wasn’t to talk or party, it was to focus on the matter at hand. But they were just kids. Too young to help, considered too naïve to be taken seriously. What were they supposed to do?

After the semester turned over, and the snow began to melt, a body turned up in the alley. Volstigg was the first to hear about it in a gossip circle during first period. He literally ran out of class, clanging his binder against the doors to get his friends’ attention.

By lunch, it was discovered to be Aerilyn.

There were photos circulating the town because she was discovered by some students. It didn’t make sense. Her body was fresh, only had been dead for a couple days at the most. Her head was tucked behind the dumpster. She had new tattoos, new clothes. It was Aerilyn, Jem was positive. But if she was so close to home, how did no one hear from her?

Jem left in the middle of the night to the church. They just needed to get away for awhile. It was spontaneous and hardly planned. They were so numb they were thankful they at least remembered shoes. But most of all Jem was just so confused.

Jem jumped from their seat after hearing thumping coming from the church’s entrance. Walking in was Lewellyn, wrapped tightly in her winter coat and a blanket in hand. Jem’s eyebrows raised but they smiled. In spite of all the circumstances, she was still making them smile.

“How’d you know where I was?” They asked, taking the blanket and wrapping themselves up.

Lewellyn gave an awkward grin, “I wish I could say this was planned. But I’ve been coming here every day just trying to make sense of things.”

Jem nodded solemnly, “There’s nothing to make sense of. There’s no sense in any of this Lew.”

“I know.” Lew reassured, rubbing Jem’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s head back.” Lew hooked one arm around Jem, the other leaning on their arm. After a moment of silence Lew continued saying, “But I wanna make this clear, I’m not giving up. Even if nobody believes us, we know something’s going on in this town. And I think if you and I, and Umbra and Volstigg, we all stick together we might make it out on the other side.”

Jem said, “Yeah, I think so too.” But what they were feeling, deep in their bones was that they never wanted her to leave their side.

Over the course of the next few weeks, the group basically gave up on their studies to focus on the mysteries revolving around the disappearances in town. The more the group looked into it, the further the disappearances went back. There were typically sightings of the missing people, and very rarely did the bodies turn up dead. But despite the sightings, no one ever came home again.

The four were very task oriented. Even in the small breaks between each session, they would still joke about the people in different articles. Volstigg’s favorite task was to find a police officers name in the paper, and then come up with a whole dramatic life for them. He made them laugh, even when they all felt like they shouldn’t. Umbra would bounce back and forth between being the reluctant friend, and the concerned mom. He would take care of his friends, no matter what. Lew led the charge everyday, even as she juggled her grades, her parents expectations, and a social life outside of the Academy. She was an inspiration, and the soul of the group.

Jem however, didn’t feel as important as the rest of them. Only for one reason, and that was their friends’ support was the only thing to give them strength. A reason to get out of bed, to never give up hope, and to enjoy the little things. But all good things must come to an end.

And nothing was as shocking or as painful than when Lewellyn didn’t show up to class the next morning.

Jem, Umbra and Volstigg didn’t even bother to go to class that day. They even knew better than to ask their useless teachers if they had seen her. After all, she was just one of the misfits. Before the Academy would attempt to cover this up, Jem was able to sneak into Lew’s dorm and steal her journal. That was the one object that she would come back for if she could.

And that’s how Jem knew she was still out there.

They left her journal on their desk for the entire first week, nothing happened. But after Umbra, Jem, and Volstigg came up empty handed after their nightly search in the woods and town streets they returned after curfew. Jem was exhausted, dark circles forming beneath their eyes. It took them a minute to realize their window was open, and the journal was gone.

The next day, Jem came crashing into the library to meet up with the two boys. “Lew’s alive.” They explained their process, and how Lew would be the only person who cared about that thing. But Umbra wasn’t as optimistic.

“Or, Lew had clues on the person or people that have been kidnapping others for the past century.” Umbra debated, remaining calm but frustration was evidently bubbling up. “And then whoever took her, and Alveyn, and killed Aerilyn, grabbed the journal to burn any evidence.”

“That makes no sense.” Jem shot back. “How would they know that Lew kept her clues in there? And why would Lew keep clues in there instead of giving them to us?”

Umbra threw his hands up in the air, “I don’t know. Maybe they’re torturing because she got too close. And now they’re gonna kill her because they have the evidence.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” Jem growled, their knuckles going white from gripping the table so hard. “She’s not dead. I know it.”

“She might be, and you’re just gonna have to put up with that.” Umbra snapped right back.

“Guys.” Volstigg attempted to diffuse the situation, but was ignored on both sides.

Umbra stood up, leaning on the table and keeping his hands flat against the table. “I know you had this thing for her and whatever, but you’re gonna have to face the facts at some point. She might be dead, and we might never know for sure. But the one thing the evidence does say, is that we’re never gonna see her again.”

Jem leaped out of their seat, and flipped the table out of their way. They grabbed Umbra by the lapel of his shirt. “Take it back you prick!”

After a moment of grappling, Umbra was able to spin Jem around and pin them against the nearest wall with their hands behind their back. Even though Jem kept fighting against him, he calmly said, “Jem, I know it’s hard. I didn’t want to lose her either, I... I didn’t want to lose any of them. But all I got left is what us three have here and now.” Umbra’s voice wavered slightly, but it would’ve been easy to miss. “I’m not gonna give up, I’ll go out there every night. But if it means that I’m gonna lose you, or you,” he said the last word towards Volstigg, “then it’s not worth it.”

Umbra finally let go of Jem who collapsed against the wall. Umbra crouched down next to them, putting one hand on his shoulder. Volstigg, who had politely turned the table back over and put the books back on it before joining the other two, knelt down next to them.

“How the hell did this get left up to us three?” Volstigg asked jokingly.

Both Jem and Umbra breathed out a laugh in response. Jem was the first to speak and break the peace, “I’m sorry. I just... I can’t help but feel like we’re in over our heads here.”

“Oh, it’s because we are.” Umbra admitted shamelessly. “No doubt in my mind.”

“But we’ll do it together?” Volstigg questioned, his nerves still on high.

Jem and Umbra eyed each other warily before nodding. “Yeah, together.”

The three people went on for the next couple months, investigating as much as they could. The more evidence that came to light, it was becoming more and more clear that there was no logical explanation. And considering Jem’s past, they knew that the supernatural wasn’t completely out of the question.

But there were some nights where things just got too overwhelming. So after taking to the streets, Jem wouldn’t head back to the Academy with the others. But make a detour to the church. Memories often flooded them, but it was their own way of keeping Alveyn, Aerilyn, and Lew alive.

They perched on a broken bench, that they had done so many times before. Once upon a time it was with someone Jem had a connection with, one that is impossible to replicate. Once they had gotten comfy, Jem looked at the sky through the broken roof and they cried.

It felt weird crying, and they felt like they didn’t deserve to cry over someone so perfect. Not to mention that Jem and Lew were never anything more than friends. But eventually Jem figured out that’s what they were crying about. The fact that they never had the chance to be more than friends.

Jem weeped over the possibilities. A future that may or may not have come to pass in any universe. People say that the not knowing is what kills people. But adjacent to not knowing, is the word almost. They almost had a date. They almost held hands. They almost kissed. They almost fell in love. They almost were happy.

But that didn’t matter, because it wouldn’t come to pass. At least, that’s what they thought.

A couple nights after that, Jem went back to the church. Their hands digging through their hair, making it shaggy as per usual. At this point, Jem had forgotten what a good nights rest was like. And the exasperated yawn that slipped from their mouth made that even more obvious.

Maybe they’d just spend a few minutes at the church tonight. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

Right.

Upon entering the dilapidated building, Jem saw someone hunched over on one of the splintered pews. Whoever it was, was dressed in black and a light cream color. Her shimmering blue hair covering her fair skin.

Jem wasn’t going to say anything, they were just going to turn around and leave. Afraid that it might be some homeless person who might jump them just because they look like they came from money in their school uniform. Until, upon closer examination, they noticed something that chilled them to the core. The girl was writing in a journal. It was Lew’s journal.

It didn’t make sense, it didn’t seem possible. And yet the sliver of hope they had for it to be true was enough to bring them towards the mysterious figure. They swallowed deeply before breaking the silence.

“Lew?”

The girl looked up, and it was Lew. It was her beautiful blue eyes, and those freckles Jem had tried to count one time when she fell asleep on their lap. It was her soft cheeks, and plush lips that Jem had pictured on theirs too many times to count. It was her.

“Hi.” Jem began to move towards her slowly as she stood up and brushed herself off. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here, aren’t you breaking curfew?” A warm palm pressed against her cheek, and she heard Jem exhale shakily. “I’m sor--” She didn’t even get the word out before she was pulled into a tight hug.

She was real. It was all Jem could think about. But something was different. Other than her look that was obviously updated, but she smelled different. Her body was so cold, even though they were in the middle of spring. Although, the climate was super dewey at night so it could just be affecting her that way.

That had to be it.

“You’re really here, god you’re so cold Lew.” She could feel tears dripping onto the skin of her neck and collar as Jem buried their face into her neck.

“Yeah, I’m really here.” She replied, hooking her arms around Jem, her hands being covered by her sleeves. “I can still feel warm after all.”

Jem pulled back slightly, tucking her hair behind her ear, “What do you mean?”

Lewellyn’s eyes widened, “Uh, it’s just- never mind. It’s not important.”

“You sure about that?” Jem chuckled in disbelief. “Because I swear Lew, from here on out everything you say is important.” Jem wanted to pace back and forth they were so stressed and confused, but they opted with just staying in her arms. “We need to get you back to Academy. Umbra and Vol-“

“No.” Lew tried to pull back, but Jem kept her in place. “I know you probably won’t understand, but I can’t go back there.”

Jem’s concern grew even more. “Why? Did something happen? Is that why you left?”

“I can’t even begin to explain!” Lew exclaimed, stress over taking her entire body. She shoved Jem away, and they tumbled a good few feet back. Thankfully, they were able to stabilize themselves. But the thought didn’t escape them that there’s no way Lew should be that strong.

Jem slowly raised their hands, reassuringly. “It’s okay, it okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I know.” Lewellyn cried, holding herself tightly. “I’m not afraid of you hurting me.” She shut her eyes, and took a deep breath. The two stood there in complete silence until Lew flicked open her golden-yellow eyes, and extended fangs. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Jem tried to keep their cool as best as they could. It wasn’t everyday that your friends came back as a vampire. This was seeming more dreamlike by the second. And Jem weighed the options in their head, and they decided that even if this was a dream, they never wanted to wake up.

Jem pointed at their own mouth saying, “the fangs, good look. Kind of amps up the sexy, mysterious vibe.” Lewellyn’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. Jem began walking towards her, slowly. “I haven’t had the chance to say this but, your new look is drop dead gorgeous.” They shoved their hands in their pockets, and leaned down to Lew’s eye level. “You know, I’ve always dreamed of having a cute, alternative partner.”

Lew rolled her eyes, a genuine smile gracing her features. “Jemon Morale, where the hell did this confidence come from?”

“You know,” Jem closed the space, framing both sides of her face with their hands, “when three of your friends are presumed dead, you typically get a clearer outlook on life. Carpe diem, all that shit. Live every day like it’s your last.” Jem brushed her hair out of Lew’s face gently. “And I promised myself that if I ever got the chance to see you again, I wouldn’t screw it up.”

Jem leaned down getting within an inch of her lips, and they asked the simple question floating in the air with their eyes. Lewellyn answered by closing the inch and finally kissing Jem. Their lips moved slowly, and in sync with in another. Jem lightly caressing Lew’s lips with their tongue along the way. After one last, long kiss the pulled away.

“One, I’ve passed the verdict that the fangs are hot.” Jem quipped, earning them a smack on the arm. “Two, I’d say I took your breath away but I don’t think you need to breath.”

Lew playfully pushed them back again, this time more mindful of her strength. She hooked her arm through Jem’s and walked with them. Jem updated her in what was going on at Academy and she explained what happened the night she went missing. Although it’s still blurry for her, she tried her best.

By the time they reached a large manor, they both were slightly out of breath from laughing. Jem looked up at the extensive decor and immediately felt under dressed. Lew stepped inside, her hand linked with Jem’s and she looked around before entering.

“Did you sneak out?” Jem quipped.

Lewellyn tilted her head back and forth, as if weighing the options, “Well, yes and no. I’m not a prisoner here, but I also shouldn’t be bringing a human here.”

“Well, at least you’re aware of that.” A voice spoke, coming from the left of the foyer. Lew and Jem jumped, pulling each other close. Standing in the shadows were two people, that Jem could only assume to be vampires.

The one who spoke was a lean man, with dark skin. He had short, curly hair, and was wearing fine, purple robes. He stood there, with a clearly unimpressed look on his face. Lewellyn and him shared a tense look that Jem would swear they could see the electricity between them. The other vampire was a tall, slender woman. With medium toned skin and black hair with a blue tint to it. She had grey eyes and wore a simple black gown.

The female vampire was the next one to speak up, “Hi, I’m Mercy and this is Romy. Welcome to our manor.” She approached them and offered her hand. “Let me fix you some tea, and let these two sort some things out.”

Jem looked to Lew, who -after a moment- nodded. Jem took Mercy’s hand as she led him through the dining room into the kitchen. Everything in the manor was well crafted, made from solid wood. Antique furniture and dishes were the only things that could be seen. Other than a few stray phones and a television set.

Once they reached the kitchen, Jem sat down at the table. They simply stated, “Listen, I don’t want to cause any trouble. If Romy doesn’t want me here, I can leave.”

As the water began to heat, Mercy sat down across from Jem. “It has nothing to do with you. Romy and Lew have some underlying tension they need to deal with. It’s not fair to you to have to leave just because they’re being stubborn.”

Jem gave an awkward nod in response. After a moment in silence, Jem attempted a subject change. “I assume you don’t really get the chance to cook very often for guests, huh?”

Mercy shook her head, “Not for guests, no. Depending how long you stay here, you’ll see how things work.”

After a few minutes of idle conversation, Lew entered the kitchen. She was visibly frustrated but lightened up upon seeing Jem. It was getting to be early in the morning, and Jem technically had class to get to (that they would’ve skipped anyways). Jem couldn’t see the sun through the curtains, but Jem put the pieces of that puzzle together quite easily.

Lew grabbed Jem’s hand, wished Mercy a good sleep, and led them up to her room. As if tonight hadn’t happened, Lew and Jem began to undress. Just to get comfortable enough to relax in bed together. Jem kept their uniform pants on, without the belt. While Lewellyn went to the in suite bathroom to change into some silky pajamas.

She climbed into bed next to them, and immediately began playing with Jem’s hair. “Is this okay?”

“You’re seriously asking a person if sleeping in the same bed is okay?” Jem joked.

Lew giggled shyly, tucking her face into her pillow slightly. “I mean, everything. You might just be on a high because you missed me but this isn’t exactly something you can change your mind about.”

“No ones changing their mind here.” Jem reassured, taking one of Lew’s hands and kissing it gently. “I said it before, and I meant it. I lost you once Lewellyn V’lain, and I’m not gonna screw this up.” Lew smiled gently, slowly closing her eyes.

“Good night, Jem.” Lew whispered into the night.

Jem smiled, closing their eyes as well. “I almost miss you already.”

The next day, Jem woke up when they felt tender little kisses on the back of their neck. The memories from last night flashing before them, and they realized how happy they were. They didn’t even want to look at the clock, but they knew they must’ve been out for hours. The best sleep they’ve had since they came to England.

Jem turned over to face Lew, who smiled at them warmly. Jem was a little taken aback because Lew’s eyes were flickering between her natural blue and gold. Her fangs were extended and it seemed like she hadn’t even noticed yet. Jem, motioned to their mouth, hoping that would explain it.

“What? Do I have morning breath?” Lew joked, but then felt her fangs brush against her lips. She gasped, shooting up in bed. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Jem, still sleepy, sat up with her. “Don’t be, I’m assuming it happens once in awhile. I’m not bothered by it.”

“Only when I forget to feed. I’m not exactly accustomed to my new diet yet.” Lewellyn admitted, embarrassed.

Jem, now more awake, kissed Lew on the cheek. Their voice however, was scratchy and deep from just waking up. “Yeah, keto’s a bitch.”

Lew playfully flicked Jem’s nose, “Not funny. I have some bags downstairs. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Lew got up from the bed, but Jem was slightly faster. They scrambled to the edge of the bed, grabbing Lew’s wrist gently. “Wait.” Lew gave them a questionable look but stilled. “Okay, you can say no. But, if you’re okay with it and you think you can do it, you could feed off me.”

Lew’s eyes flicked gold again. Clearly, her primal instincts enjoyed the offer but Lew still didn’t seem so sure. “I haven’t exactly done that a lot. Mercy has been teaching me slowly.”

“Who’s better to practice on than someone who trusts you,” Jem propositioned. They dragged Lew forward, placing her hand on their chest to feel their heartbeat, “with everything that I am.”

Lew gazed lovingly down at them, and felt herself being drawn to them. She straddled their hips, cradling their face in her hands. “You’re sure?”

Jem kissed her palm, maintaining complete eye contact as they did it. “Yes.”

Lew nodded, leaning down and capturing their lips. Moving slowly against theirs, it was sweet. No lust or hunger, just the raw affection they felt for each other. She pushed Jem down gently, lying them flat on their back. Slowly, Lew left wet, opened mouth kisses down Jem’s jawline and continuing down the neck.

Eventually, she found the vein. Pulling her hair over on shoulder to ensure nothing would get in the way. With her index finger, she stroked the vein lightly, sending a shiver down Jem’s spine. Then ever so slowly, Lew dipped down and placed her fangs over Jem’s neck. With that, she sunk her fangs into them.

Jem grabbed Lew’s hips, shocked by the sudden pain. But the pain quickly turned pleasure as the blood rushed to their head. Jem desperately tried to keep their moans in, completely embarrassed but at the same time this was unlike anything they had ever felt. Every nerve in their body tingled as they felt their blood rush through every inch of their body.

Never before had Jem felt this relaxed in spite of the pleasure coursing through them. It was an intimacy they had only ever dreamed about. With Lewellyn, in this moment, they felt safe. Loved. Cherished. And they wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Lewellyn finally pulled away, seemingly out of breath. She quickly used her fangs to prick her finger and used that to seal over the wounds in Jem’s neck. She pulled back to look them in the eyes. Both Lew’s and Jem’s pupils were blown wide.

Jem let out a breathless laugh, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Lew giggled, leaving them with one more passionate kiss. “Wow.” She stood up, completely reenergized. “Do not stand up. You need a cookie or something or lose you’ll faint.”

Jem gave a playful salute, “Yes Ma’am.”

(BONUS:)

Throughout the rest of the day, Jem and Lew walked through the manor. Mercy answered any and all questions she could about vampirism and Jem finally felt like they understood a little better.

When dusk fell, Jem and Lew were sitting on the staircase when Romy came to join them. “Will you be staying another night?”

“In all honesty, I should probably get back to the Academy before they clear my shit out.” Jem admitted, standing up. “But I might swing by later if I’m allowed.”

Romy nodded, “As long as you don’t bring any of your friends with you, I think we can agree.”

Romy and Lew walked Jem into the foyer. Just then, Umbra entered the manor, Volstigg on his tail. Romy threw his hands up in the air, completely giving up and turned around towards his study. Umbra continued his stride over to Jem, who was excited to see their friend again.

“Hey, how’d you find-“ Their voice was cut off due to Umbra’s fist connecting with their stomach. The wind got completely knocked out of them.

Umbra huffed, clenching and unclenching his fist in pain. “We share a find your IPhone, remember? In case we went missing? Remember idiot?!” Umbra breathed out a sigh, finally turning to Lew. It took him a second to actually register who she was. Umbra’s eyes shot up and blurted out, “Oh my god, Jem you found her.”

The only response was Jem’s groan in pain.

[inknopewetrust]

in the cloak of darkness pt. 4

Summary: “I don’t want to rush you into anything...”

Pairing: Detective Loki x Reader

Word Count: 5.10k

Warnings: Mature Language, Adult Themes. 

A/N: Please visit the most recent post for any updates. 

Parts: 01 | 02 | 03 | ... | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 |

You could feel hands digging into your sides but weren’t sure if it was part of the dream you were having or if it was real pain. It happened again and your eyes fluttered open, the early dawn just slicing through the blinds of your room to let you know it was morning. The hands got tighter and heavier and around you was Loki, still asleep with a conflicted look on what should have been a peaceful resting face. You quickly realized that the pain you were feeling was coming from him squeezing onto you so tight that his fingers were turning white, and it was from whatever was going on in his mind. You shook him a couple times lightly but it didn’t seem to work, so you tried again, harder, and he sat up so fast that he moved you in the process, not realizing what he had been doing. 

Loki was panting, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to gather himself from his nightmare. The body he had found last night in the priest’s basement clouded his thoughts when he wasn’t thinking of the two girls, the possible bodies he might find, and the one he did last night. 

“Hey...” You reached your hand out to rest on his bare back, his breathing beginning to calm as he held his face in his hands and his disheveled hair fell out of place. 

“I’m alright, I’m fine, I’m fine.” He said over and over again as if he was trying to convince himself that he was alright, but he wasn’t sure if you believed him because he could barely believe himself. 

“What was it?” You asked him softly, moving over to sit behind him, folding your arms around him, over his chest and you leaned backward leaning against the headboard and he placed his hands over yours as you held him and he leaned back into you. 

“Last night... I didn’t say anything, but I went to Father Dunn’s, just outside of town and I found a fucking body in his basement all decayed and shit. He said he didn’t know anything, he wouldn’t talk so I left and came here.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” You moved your head so you could get a better look at his face. He blinked harshly a few times before shaking his head and rubbing his eyes before moving his hands to rest on your legs. 

“I just didn’t want to talk about it. This mattered more.” He said and took one of your hands and kissed it. 

“Did I ever say that I liked doing that? Is it weird?” He laughed and the creases that formed near his eyes made you smile. He was happy and that made you happy too. 

“No, you haven’t. But, I like it so don’t ever stop doing that.” You told him and he did it again just for kicks before turning his face to plant his lips onto your own, basking in the early morning glow of two people who had a moment to themselves. 

“I won’t as long as you’ll let me.” He said, his breath hot on your neck as he trailed kisses from your ear to your collarbone. He had completely turned around now, moving so he was sitting up in the bed and you straddled his waist, his hands gripping your hips as you ran a hand through his hair and the searing kiss deepened when he ran his tongue across your bottom lip, you breaking the kiss for a moment so you could catch your breath and then meet his lips again. 

You could feel yourself start to get flustered, your body getting warm and underneath you, you could feel it from him too as he groaned when you moved on top of him. 

“I need to take a shower.” You told him as he moved his hands underneath the t-shirt you wore to bed and grabbed your breasts, massaging them with his hands. 

“It can’t wait?” He asked and tried to lift the shirt off but you broke the kiss, moving his hands so they were resting on your thighs. You held them in place as you rested your foreheads together, both of your chests rising and falling as you caught your breath. 

“I don’t want to be late today. Neither do you.” You got off him as much as you didn’t want to and headed to your bathroom. You hesitated when you heard him shuffle in the covers so you turned around. He was off the bed and following you but he stopped when he saw you turn around like a deer in headlights, he thought he could sneak behind you but was obviously mistaken. 

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that right?” You laugh and held onto the door handle. 

“Well, you get me all worked up and expect me not to do anything about it, so in order to save time and money, showering together works best.” 

“Oh, you’re interested in saving me a few extra dollars on my water bill?” You raise your brows at him and he met you at the door, his hand wrapping around your waist as he pulled you to him. 

“Saving the planet and all that shit, right? That’s a cool thing to be into nowadays. Besides, who wouldn’t want to see their girl in the shower?” 

Their girl. You heard it but didn’t say anything, you weren’t sure if he realized he said it or not either. 

After the shower, which left you flustered and behind schedule, Loki put back on the clothes he had worn the night before and grabbed his keys. 

“I’ll meet you there, alright?” He asked and you nodded, drying your hair with a towel in the mirror. He turned to leave but hesitated before returning to your side and as you turned to him, he kissed you softly. It wasn’t like the kisses that you had shared before, the needy, rough, aggressive ones, instead soft, sweet, the very opposite of Loki and the aura he exudes. He pulled away and your eyes fluttered open, meeting his blue ones. 

“Thank you.” He said and your brows furrowed, your mind became confused.

“What for?” 

“A nice morning.” He smiled and walked backward, turning around swiftly and yelling bye once he was halfway out the door. You stood for a moment, thinking of Loki, his eyes, and the morning you shared before getting ready for work. 

Day three missing. Both of you have gotten nowhere in the case. 

Alex Jones was being released today... much to both Loki and your dismay and fighting with O’Malley to keep him for more. You called the Dover’s from your desk, waiting for someone to pick up the phone and by the fourth ring, Grace Dover picked up the phone. You could hear her cough on the other line, sniffing her nose loudly before speaking. 

“Hello?” She asked and you crumpled the paper you were holding in your hand. 

“Hi, this is Detective L/n, is this Mrs. Dover?” 

“Yes, is everything alright Detective?” 

“Mrs. Dover, I am calling to let you know that our hold on Alex Jones has expired and he will be returning home today. We did the best we could trying to get any information but we were unable to secure anything that was worth keeping him. I’m so-” The line went dead and you removed the phone from your ear before putting it back. 

“Hello? Mrs. Dover are you there?” You asked into the beeping abyss of the phone. 

“Fuck.” You muttered and hung up the phone, turning you chair around so you could look at Loki who was waiting for you to be done. 

“She fucking hung up on me. She’s probably calling Keller now just so he can come and scream at us for not doing something he asked.” You say and stand up, walking over to the waiting room Alex Jones was sitting in. Holly should be there soon to come and pick him up, the office had decided to suspend his license for precaution. 

“Alex?” You knock on the door and open it, his attention darting to you and then Loki who wasn’t far behind. He looked away from the two of you as Loki shut the door behind. Alex was still shaken up from the interrogation Loki had been involved with, but he was a suspect, so you really didn’t feel that bad. 

It was the fact he couldn’t function as an adult that made you sad for him. But he still could have taken those girls which made you mad he was getting released so soon. Every time you thought he was innocent, you thought of those girls. You thought of Lucy. 

“Your Aunt, she will be here soon, alright? I need you to sign some papers so you can leave, okay?” You ask him and grab the clipboard with papers and a pen that was sitting next to Officer Harding who was working the front desk. 

“If you need help answering any of the questions, Detective Loki and I can help.” He grabbed the clipboard from you and nodded. Officer Harding had highlighted everything in yellow so Alex knew what to answer, making it easier on the two of you so you wouldn’t have to answer many questions. 

Alex sat quietly, only asking one or two questions and you ended up helping him because Loki just stared him down the entire time. He was a confident man, Loki. You knew it true and never questioned it but when something like this, like Alex Jones signing release papers happened, his whole demeanor changed from confident detective to one angered by the fact he wasn’t able to get anything out of him. But, somewhere, Loki believed that Alex wasn’t entirely innocent from the case. There was just a piece missing and he knew you felt that way too. 

It wasn’t much longer after Alex had finished the paperwork that Holly appeared on the other side of the glass, looking at both of you and then Alex, a small smile gracing her face as she waved at him through the glass. Loki opened the door and you walked Alex out, Loki staying inside the room, not willing to talk to Holly or Alex again, telling you he’d rather watch. 

“Mrs. Jones, Alex has completed everything we need from him at the moment. We just need him to sign his name to be released and then he’s free to go. I need to know that my partner and I can make any necessary stops at your home to question Alex if we need to, or have him follow up with us, is that alright?” You ask her and Alex stand straight at her side. 

“Yes, that would be fine.” She said and led Alex to the counter to sign his name. 

“Now, they want you to write your whole name.” She told him and he picked up the pen, slowly writing his name too big for the slot he was supposed to be writing in. Loki stood behind a sitting Harding, his arms crossed and his face cold as he watched the possible kidnapper get away. 

“Mhm, good job.” She told him and Alex went to hand her the pen as if he didn’t know what to do with it. She pointed to the slot that the paper had already been halfway down. 

“Give it to the man.” He slid the paper and pen back to Harding and looked Loki one more time, his eyes lingering on him unsettling for more than five seconds which made you uncomfortable. Holly placed a hand on Alex’s arm, motioning for him to come with her and to her car. She muttered something to him about the press that was outside and you stood at the door as it closed behind, Loki coming out of the room and taking his place next to you and the other officers that gathered around, watching as Alex Jones walked free surrounded by hungry press. 

“He’s fucking getting away...” Loki mumbled, you were probably the only one who picked up what he said and looked at him, meeting his eyes in a mutual agreement and turning back to watch them leave. The scene of reunification was interrupted by a dirty truck slamming on its breaks in the lot somewhere out of your view. Faster than anyone could have reacted, Keller Dover broke through the crowd of reporters and Loki and some other officers ran out, tackling Keller to the ground before he could harm Alex badly. Keller was handcuffed and brought into the station by other officers and narrowed his eyes aggressively at you as he was brought in. 

“You said you would keep him. You fucking lied.” He spat at you and the officer holding him, leading him to O’Malley tugged him away. You folded your hands together and held them on top of your head and huffed, breathing in and out to calm yourself down. You didn’t fucking lie. You tried. 

The entire case seemed to be falling on its head and you were incredibly frustrated that no one would believe you and Loki knew what was the right path. You walked outside into the air that was entirely too cold for the light blazer you had on and approached Holly Jones. Loki was with another officer making sure Alex was ok, your eyes meeting briefly before you turned to Holly. 

“I am so sorry about that Mrs. Jones. I promise you that we will make sure Mr. Dover is far away from Alex so it doesn’t happen again.” 

“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place! He’s a good kid, maybe if you would just do your job and leave us alone none of this would have happened.” She explained and went toward Alex, your bubbling anger getting the best of you as you grabbed her arm roughly, her eyes flicking to your hand that held her and then your eyes. 

“Your nephew’s RV matched the description of the one that took the girls. It isn’t my fault that happened. If you ever question my ability to do my job again, it will be the last time you speak to a Detective that way.” You spat at her and Loki pulled you away from her before she could file some kind of restraining order against you. 

“Don’t.” He told you and basically dragged you inside. You huffed and walked away from him as you got inside and he watched as you left by the front desk, his hands sitting on his waist like some angry dad who’s trying to punish a kid. 

“Women, huh?” Harding said from behind the glass and Loki looked at him before shaking his head and walking away to O’Malley’s office. 

“Just give her some space dude! She’ll be fine.” He shouted after Loki and Loki threw a hand up at him in response. 

“I know! She’s my fucking partner.” 

You stormed into the locker room and paced with your hands resting on your hips, anger seething out of you. Loki pushed the door open and looked at you expectantly. 

“What the fuck was that?” He asked you and you just shrugged in response, throwing your hand up toward the door. 

“Holly Jones is blaming me for believing Alex had something to do with this! Fucking motherfucking bitch!” You shout and throw your hands up frustratingly. 

“Her nephew was just attacked by the father of a girl who he was accused of taking, it was probably nothing personal, just being protective of Alex.” He walked up to you and rested his hands on your shoulders, looking at you seriously. 

“You can’t do those things to people, Y/n, she could have easily filed a restraining order against you...” He said and trailed off, you narrowed your eyes at him and scoffed. 

“And? What? People would believe her because I’m impulsive? Sure... yeah sure... when a woman shows some kind of emotion its either because we care to deeply or we’re bitches, being defensive for me is different for you and I’m just trying to...” You just huffed and gave up in a way, removing yourself from the confines of his arms and to the door. 

“I just wish people would take me fucking seriously around here.” You tell him and he tried to object to that statement but you were out the door and to O’Malley’s office where he had been calming Keller down, making sure he wasn’t a threat to himself, the officers and staff, or anyone outside. You knocked ever so briefly on O’Malley’s door and walked in, he held up a hand to you, urging you not to talk as he finished up with Keller. Keller eyed you as you sat on the leather couch to the side of O’Malley’s desk. 

“As for Alex Jones, he has orders not to leave the commonwealth.” O’Malley told him and Keller looked exasperated, his expression turning sour. 

“What?” 

“Sir, I need you to go home.” Loki had entered the room and Keller looked at him too as he stood by the edge of the couch, giving you a look before crossing his arms and leaning against the arm of the couch. 

“What about what I just fucking told you?” Keller asked him defeatedly, and threw a hand up. 

“Why aren’t you sending someone out to go arrest this guy?” 

“Tell Detective Loki and L/n what you just told me, and they will definitely look into it.” O’Malley tells him and Keller looks at the two of you waiting impatiently for some kind of possible lead. 

“That asshole you promised me you would keep in custody, right? And you didn’t. When I grabbed him in the parking lot he said they didn’t cry until I left them, right to my fucking face!”

“He said that to you in the parking lot just now?” 

“Right now, yeah! Before you grabbed me off him.” Keller pointed at Loki aggressively and Loki stayed stoic, you watching Keller closely just in case his temper got out of control. 

“Did anyone else hear it besides you?” Loki asked Keller and he moved uncomfortably in the chair he was sitting in. 

“I don’t know, it was quiet. He said it to me. He wanted me to know.” 

“Are you sure he said that to you?” 

“What?” Keller got defensive, his breathing becoming hard. 

“Are you sure that’s what he said?” 

“Jesus Christ, you think I’m making this up? Why would I make this up?” Keller got up and approached Loki, his hands clenched at his sides. Loki held up a hand, trying to calm the man down but it wasn’t working. You stood cautiously, even O’Malley moving from his spot sitting on his desk to stand properly. 

“Hey, hey, hey, whoa.” Loki stuck his hand out further, not breaking eye contact with Keller, but weary of his actions. 

“I’m not saying that to you. I am just asking you a couple questions. We will talk to him. Okay? Mr. Dover-”

“No don’t talk... arrest him!” Keller yelled at Loki and then looked to you as well before storming out of the office, leaving the door open behind him and left the precinct. 

“What did I fucking tell you? What did I tell you? One more day.” Loki protested the decision by O’Malley and walked out of the office too, following Keller out. You sighed and turned to O’Malley with your arms crossed. 

“I think we should put not only the Jones’ under surveillance, but the Dover’s too. That’s not the first time he’s lost his temper with us.” You tell him and he shakes his head and throws his hands up in defeat.

“What do you want me to do, L/n? Alex Jones didn’t put an order on him so he’s a free man too, I can’t just put people under surveillance because they’re on edge.” 

“You can’t or you don’t want to?” You ask him seriously and he sits down in his chair and points to the door. 

“I would go talk to Alex Jones if I were you, not worrying about a grieving father. Maybe, if you were less focused on your work, you would understand how families grieve differently.” O’Malley stated and picked up a pen to start doing some work. You looked at me exasperated, your mouth barely keeping closed at the audacity of the man. 

“Fuck this shit.” You mumble and leave, O’Malley asking a stern “What?” before you slammed his door closed behind you. Sheila, his receptionist startled by the commotion that erupted from the room the last few minutes. 

“Is everything alright, Y/n?” She asked kindly. Sheila was a fifty-five year old woman and mother of four, she had seen and heard a lot of stories within her time here and always cared about her co-workers, which was, you had to admit, a nice change from many of your male counterparts. 

“They never fucking listen, do they?” You asked her and ran a hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face and straightened your blazer out, buttoning the undone button. Sheila shook her head knowingly and pushed her chair backwards and to a coffee maker that sat behind her desk on a shelf. 

“I’ve been working here for twenty-five years and the day a man here listens to something I have to say will be the day I die, I swear.” She told you and you watched as she poured a plastic cup full of whatever coffee she had made that morning and handed it to you. 

“At least you’re with someone who seems to listen to you, or at least cares about your input. It’s not often we see some kind of partnership around here.” 

“Loki doesn’t count, sometimes he’s paid to listen to me, literally, because I’m his partner.” You tell her and she shakes her head and laughs, you look at her with a concerned face. 

“He would listen to you talk all day, even if he wasn’t paid. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything... But, hun, the moment I saw my husband look at me like that man looks at you, I married him.” Sheila smiled and you left her desk without another word. 

You weren’t sure if the universe just said it hated you by piling most of your problems and secrets into the same week, but it was a convincing thought. 

The discussion with Alex Jones had went nowhere, he had no recollection of anything he may have said to Keller Dover and even without his aunt there, he wouldn’t admit to anything. Keller had hung up on Loki in the car when Loki tried to tell him that Alex said he didn’t say anything and the day became increasingly frustrating with no lead ending day three. 

Day four was no different, leads that seemed too far fetched were scrapped and by the end of the day, your head was pounding and the event that had been sitting in the back of your mind was only an hour away. The vigil for Anna and Joy. 

Now, you understood that it was a prayer thing, and you had been to one before, of course. But, it didn’t make it any less painful to remember or watch after what had happened to Lucy. 

You had been waiting for Loki to return from some investigative work he was doing while you stayed back and did paperwork, but it was taking longer than expected and by 6:30, the sky was pitch black and the office was sparse with people. 

“Sorry, I got caught up with someone. It didn’t go anywhere...” Loki said as he turned the corner to the four desks that were in a cubicle, apologizing to you as you had waited for so long. 

“It’s fine, let’s go we’re already late.” You tell him and grab your hat off the desk.  Loki shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and leaned against the wall of your desk. 

“We don’t have to go... I told you we didn’t have to go if it would make you uncomfortable.” 

“We should go, it’s the nice thing to do. And if the Birches or Dover’s are there, they would probably like it if we were there to support them.” 

“Even though Keller Dover hates the both of us?” Loki looked at you pointedly and you pushed in your chair and grabbed the gloves off the desk. 

“It’s better than not going at all... Let’s go.” You pass him and he grabs your hand before you can get any further away and you look around cautiously, in case anyone was listening or watching the two of you. 

“Loki-” 

“We don’t have to go.” He tells you and you squeeze his hand gently, reassuringly. 

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go now, I don’t want to get there and everything be over.” 

The vigil was set up right in front of the Birches home. The trees in their front yard illuminated by the yellow glow of the flames and the teddy bears that laid next to them stared soullessly at the mourners. 

Loki and you leaned against the front of the car, observing the people there and the Birches in the front, crying and holding one another as they mourned the disappearance of Joy. The air was cold, unbearable in a way, the air piercing the skin of those who chose not to cover it up. Loki forgot his gloves and he moved closer to you, drawing in warmth your body was emitting. You took one of his hands with your gloved ones, intertwined them, and slipped them into one of your jacket pockets, at least warming one of his hands and bringing comfort to you as you watched the family mourn. 

You weren’t sure how long you had stayed like that, or how long the Birches huddled and cried but eventually they left, slowly making their way into their house and Loki propped himself up from the car and removed his hand from your grasp and jacket and into his own as he motioned for you to follow him and get closer to the vigil. 

All you could remember was Lucy’s. 

You remember holding your mother’s hand as she cried into your father, your brother standing tall as the oldest son supporting his family even though he was breaking inside. You didn’t understand why Lucy wasn’t there, why she wasn’t coming home. It was naivety in its most natural form because you wanted her home. 

And now you stood, looking at the candles that illuminate a different street for a different family for a different little girl. The man beside you not the toxic family that slowly grew apart but one who was willing to share his trauma with you and help you get through your own. The Birches not the family who was already breaking before their little girl was taken. Eliza Birch wasn’t you. This wasn’t your family and it wasn’t your sister gone. 

While in your thoughts, lost in the gleam of the candles, Loki watched as a man caressed a teddy bear uncomfortably. The man hadn’t seen Loki watching him, or realized that there had been a police presence there until he stood up and backed away from the bear. Loki moved to follow him and that broke your trance, and you followed after him swiftly as his pace got faster and faster and then Loki broke out into a run, which you didn’t follow. 

“Call for backup!” Loki yelled after he began running and you ran back to the car, realizing Loki had left the keys on the seat and didn’t take them with him, you turned the car on a radioed the station. 

“This is 13-52 calling for backup at the vigil at the Birches house. There is an active pursuit, I need backup now!” 

You turned off the car when you were done and ushered the crowd away, apologizing to them and soon enough, as police arrived, the crowds dispersed and understood the urgency of the situation. Your phone began vibrating in your pocket about twenty minutes after police had arrived and you pulled it out, accepting the call immediately after you realized it was Loki calling and you jumped off the hood of the car. 

“Where are you!?” You asked him frantically and you could hear him breathing heavily on the other end. 

“I lost him, I couldn’t catch him.” He panted and then the sound of racing cars and horns began blaring through the phone. 

“Fuck... Where are you?” You asked him again and he waited a second before responding. 

“I-ah, I’m on the side of the highway... I’ll come back to you, don’t worry about it. Send everyone else back. We have to go to the station so I can get a sketch of the guy.” 

“I can come pick you up, what’s the mile marker?” 

“Too late, I already started walking. I’ll be there in 25 minutes.” Loki hung up and you sent everyone home and waited for him patiently in the car, warming it up so you wouldn’t have to wait for it to when he got there. You were resting your head on the window, closing your eyes but before you could get to comfortable, the door opened and Loki slid in, the cold air stiff inside the car. 

“I can drop you off first if you want.” He told you and warmed his hands up before putting the car into drive. 

“No, it’s fine. I can wait until we get back.” 

“Y/n, the last two days... If you need a break you have to tell me. I won’t know where your mind is at otherwise and I don’t want you to feel you have to-” 

“I want to find these girls, if we don’t my job will be for nothing and your record will be for nothing. I need to find them to know I can do this and I don’t want to be treated differently because of Lucy. It’s hard yes, but everything my family and the police did wrong last time won’t happen again and I will make sure of it. I need to be here, Loki. I need to.” You responded and pleaded your eyes at him to make sure he understood what you meant. 

He never asked if you needed a break again and you felt that was progress. 

But those two hardest days were nothing compared to what came next. 

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

TAG LIST: @caroline24 @skywalker-fucker @celebsimagines @qtmeryr @aestheticaitlins @montypythonsholysnail @aquahogcodes @deviantly-gayy @askunsolved @plumsfrombucharest @twowaymirrorx @meg-black @joce1133

[searchingwardrobes]

This Girl Ain’t Going Anywhere: 4/4

Here it is, the exciting (I hope!) conclusion! @katie-dub​, I can’t believe it took me almost a year to finish your gift. I really wanted this to incorporate things I know you love, strong female heroes topping that list. I hope you like it!

Summary: The Brothers Jones have built a reputation as the most feared pirates in all the realms. When they hear of the bounty on the heads of two princesses – The Princess of Fire and The Princess of Ice – they don’t hesitate to set sail on the Jolly Roger to hunt them down. But have the Brothers Jones finally met their match?

Rating: T

Also on Ao3

Words: 2,000 and some change in this chapter

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @kday426 @winterbaby89 @nikkiemms @teamhook @bethacaciakay @thislassishooked @jennjenn615 @distant-rose​@scientificapricot @snidgetsafan @tiganasummertree @resident-of-storybrooke @stahlop @shireness-says @spartanguard @optomisticgirl​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @welllpthisishappening​ @wellhellotragic​ @superchocovian​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @courtorderedcake​

The land of the Quapah was typically still, the only sounds the wind whistling eerily. The people themselves were reserved and had a mysterious gentleness about their way of life. So when that quiet was broken by the clanging of steel and shouts, the Jones Brothers were on their feet and racing into the center of the village with swords drawn.

Killian had no idea what kind of warriors, if any, this ancient race possessed, but he shouldn’t have worried. The Quapah wielded swords of blue flame that met steel with a clang and a hiss. They moved with grace and ferocity, and combined their sword play with magic - lifting stones from the earth and hurling them at the enemy.

“Knights of Camelot,” Liam called out to his brother.

“I noticed,” Killian quipped, parrying a blow from one knight as he sent another sprawling with a kick to the stomach. “The red seal of the round table was a bit hard to miss.”

Killian’s blood ran cold as a broad, confident knight galloped into the fray atop a black steed. It was King Arthur himself. Stories of his obsession with the dark arts had become the thing of legend. His wife’s betrayal with the knight Lancelot had only sent Arthur falling further into madness. It wasn’t a foe Killian was keen on facing.

The Quapah hurled magic in Arthur’s direction, and it was a kind of magic Killian had never seen before. The earth trembled, sending rocks spraying in Arthur’s direction. A geyser of water followed after, hitting Arthur square in the chest and knocking him off his horse. The horse reared in terror, then galloped back down the mountainside. In the chaos, Killian saw Arthur race towards the path that led to the temple.

“Liam, the princesses!” he shouted as he took off after the King of Camelot. Liam followed at his heels.

Yet several of the knights of Camelot saw the brothers chasing their king, and soon Liam was battling three of them at once, leaving Killian to face Arthur alone. The king’s face blanched when he saw the hook at the end of Killian’s left arm, and the pirate smirked.

“Never faced a pirate before, your majesty?”

Arthur’s only response was a growl as he swung his sword. Killian met him stroke for stroke, but the king was forcing him up the hill ever closer to the temple that hid Emma and

Elsa. Killian had to draw Arthur away from there, so he spun and swiped at the man’s legs. Arthur anticipated the move, however, dodging to the right. The rocky, hilly terrain threw Killian off balance, and Arthur took advantage of it. Before Killian knew what was happening, he was tumbling down the hill, his cutlass flying from his hand. Well, at least I’m drawing him away from the princesses he thought dryly. His shoulder slammed against a large rock and he groaned as Arthur drew near, laughing. Killian turned his head to see his brother dispatching a knight, but two more were closing in on Liam.

“You shouldn’t bring a hook to a sword fight,” Arthur sneared, grasping the hilt of his sword with both hands.

“Well, I brought a sword,” Killian replied with sarcasm, “but I seem to have misplaced it.”

Arthur brought his boot down on Killian’s shoulder, which he had apparently injured in his tumble down the hill. Killian cried out in pain. Arthur’s sword was coming down on him, and he held his breath -

Suddenly, another sword met Arthur’s with the ring of metal hitting metal. Killian gasped to see Emma standing over him, her face contorted with rage. She had saved him! With a cry, Emma flung her other arm out, and as she did, her entire body became luminescent, her hair glowing like embers. A ball of fire hit Arthur and sent him sprawling backwards.

Killian looked up at her in awe, her name slipping from his lips like a prayer. She looked down at him, eyes ablaze and intense. Behind her, Killian could see more knights of Camelot descending on them both. Where was Liam? Emma flung both her arms out in front of her, dropping her sword. The earth beneath them shook, water spurted up, and the soil beneath Killian undulated like a wave, carrying him backward. Emma turned one palm up and flung her arm skyward. The geysers followed her movement, and Killian’s view of her was blocked by a wall of water.

“Killian!”

No voice had ever sounded sweeter, and Killian turned to see his brother being deposited by another wave of earth right next to him. He noticed Elsa on the other side of Liam, but then she flung her arms outward and ice flew from her fingertips. The wall of water instantly froze, and before Killian or Liam could process it, they were completely surrounded by walls of ice.

“No!” Liam shouted, scrambling to his feet and rushing forward. He pounded on the ice wall, yelling Elsa’s name.

“I don’t think that’s going to help,” Killian said, unable to keep the humor out of his voice.

Liam scowled at him. “Why would they do this?”

Killian arched a brow. “To keep us safe, it looks like.”

“But that’s . . . but we’re supposed to -”

“We’re supposed to save them?” Killian laughed. “Hate to break it to you, brother, but it looks like we’re the damsels in distress in this little drama.”

Liam scowled and kicked and pounded at the ice wall. He finally let out an irritated breath and turned on his brother, his hands on his hips. “They do realize we can freeze to death, right?”

As if the princesses could hear Liam Jones, a crackling fire suddenly sprang up in the center of the ice fortress. Killian threw his brother a lopsided grin before plopping down before the fire and rubbing his hands before the flames. He rolled his shoulder as warmth spread down his entire arm. Hm, Emma had even taken care of his injury.

“I don’t know about you, brother,” said Killian smugly, “but I thought Emma looked incredibly sexy saving my life.”

*******************************************************

There wasn’t much one ship could do when surrounded by multiple fleets. The Jolly

Roger had no choice but to fly the white flag of surrender.

Yet the attacking fleets had no interest in the codes of war. Anna’s knees buckled and Henry’s face turned white as the enemy ships prepared their canons. Kristoff hugged them both close, praying to every god he could think of as explosions rocked the air. They all braced for impact.

An impact that never came. When one pregnant moment faded into another, those aboard the Jolly finally, hesitantly lifted their heads. Smoke and embers float upon the air around them, as if the cannonballs were disintegrated before they found their mark.

“Look!” Henry cried, pointing.

Through the smoke, two figures seemed to hover above the ocean waves. Elsa seemed to skate across the water on a sheet of ice, wind spinning through the air around her. Walls of water poised to crash turned to ice in her wake, Emma rode along an updraft, fire at her fingertips, turning the sea water to vapor. Her hair writhed around her, her skin sparking, yet she was not consumed. Elsa’s eyes were of arctic ice - blinding, fiery, and piercing. She was a blizzard incarnate, roiling across the sea. Emma obliterated canon balls then absorbed the fiery explosions, the green of her eyes brighter and sparking like emeralds.

An inferno surrounded the enemy ships, Emma in the midst of them, luminous, incandescent, yet the vessels were not consumed. Elsa rose beside her upon a glacier rising slowly from the sea, hailstones raining down like diamonds. Each crystalized weapon disintegrated, however, on impact, the intent not to harm, but to warn. The ocean bit, chilled, blazed at the hands of the two princesses, pushing back the fleets until finally, each ship flew its own white flag of surrender.

Anna realized she was trembling against the railing, scarcely feeling Kristoff’s arms around her. She was numb, stiff, chilled to the bone. Was her sister now the monster everyone claimed?

“Look!” Henry cried. “They’re leaving! All of them!”

“Ann,” Kristoff whispered to her gently, “Anna, it’s over.”

She shook her head, pressing her face to his shoulder. He gently pulled her away, forcing her chin up to meet his eyes. He grinned broadly.

“They saved us without harming a single ship. A battle without a single casualty, Anna, it’s a miracle!”

She blinked and looked around in awe at the suddenly calm seas. Kristoff helped her to her feet and pulled her close. There, across the water, Elsa calmly walked towards them, snowflake shaped crystals of ice bearing her weight. Emma glided next to her, streams of fire pushing her against the waves. They approached the Jolly Roger with elegant ease, then clambered up the ladder to board. When the princesses’s feet hit the boards, Emma ran immediately to embrace her son, and Elsa stood before her sister, confident and with a peaceful smile upon her face. Anna blinked before words spilled from her lips in a rush.

“How did you do that? And you’re not freezing - I mean, of course you froze things, but you aren’t freezing, and . . . oh gods, how did you do that?”

Elsa laughed as she threw her arms around her sister. “We’ll explain it all soon, I promise.”

“Where are Killian and Liam?” Henry asked worriedly.

Emma bit her lip sheepishly. “Yeah, about that . . . “

Elsa laughed. “Liam will probably want to strangle me for literally putting him on ice like that.”

Emma gave a shrug and tilted her chin. “I think Killian thought I was sexy.”

*********************************************

Killian growled, yanking the tie from around his neck and tossing it to the ground. Liam chuckled and bent to retrieve it.

“Those things are designed for people with two hands,” Killian muttered. “I don’t see why I have to wear it anyway, Emma likes my chest hair to breath.”

“This is a royal wedding, little brother,” Liam countered, “I don’t know that chest hair needs to be on display.”

“It’s younger brother,” Killian corrected automatically, but he didn’t protest when LIam took over fixing his tie. It was a bit odd to be in their naval uniforms once again, albeit this time in the colors of Misthaven and Arendelle, respectively. Killian was proud of his new career, yet he would miss his brother. He arched a brow at Liam teasingly. “Do I call you Admiral Liam or King Liam?”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Technically, I’m Prince Consort Liam Jones. Queens under Arendelle law do not share sovereignty. You, on the other hand, little brother, will be king along with Emma when she takes the throne.”

Killian snorted. “I don’t think either of our lady loves need our help to lead their people.”

“No,” Liam agreed, voice laced with pride, “they surely do not.”

“Are you nervous?” Killian asked, feeling like a lad again.

“There, your tie is perfect,” Liam said, patting his brother on the shoulder, “thank the gods you’ll have a wife to do it for you after today.”

Killian was still getting used to doing things one handed, and normally it would rankle that he couldn’t handle a bloody tie. Yet having Emma at his side to help him through it all? Somehow that didn’t bother him quite so much.

“You dodged my question,” Killian pointed out.

“Am I nervous about standing up in front of two kingdoms to declare my vows? Yes. Am I nervous about declaring my vows to the woman I love? Emphatically no.”

Killian smiled in complete agreement with his brother. Watching the women they loved work so hard with the Quapah to balance their powers by calling on all the elements - earth, wind, water, and fire - and then fight for peace between all the realms had only made them fall deeper in love.

“They’re ready for you,” a voice called from the doorway.

The brothers shared a smile, scarcely able to believe how far they had come from their days of servitude. They followed the Arendelle castle steward into the great hall and took their places on either side of the priest. Killian’s heart thundered in his chest, his eyes intent on the large double doors at the end of the hall. Soon, a trumpet sounded, and the doors opened. His breath caught as he saw Emma in a long, filmy white gown, her golden curls tumbling down her back, and flowers in her hair. Elsa was there too, he knew, but he only had eyes for his own bride.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as the crown princess of Misthaven and the queen of Arendelle pledged themselves to their childhood sweethearts in a double ceremony. When LIam and Elsa were declared husband and wife, he lifted her off her feet when he kissed her, the queen throwing her arm around his neck in a very undignified manner.

His little brother, of course, had to outdo him. When the priest announced Killian and Emma husband and wife, he dipped his bride as they passionately kissed. The crowd laughed, hooted, and cheered with joy.

Later, the royals greeted their subjects who crowded outside of the Arendelle palace. They stepped out on the balcony, greeted by cheers and shouts. Instead of fireworks, Princess Emma sent sparks of fire racing across the sky in a rainbow of colors. Queen Elsa then sent giant multicolored snowflakes floating down upon the crowds. The people of Arendelle and those who had traveled from Misthaven celebrated into the wee hours of the morning.

The Queen of Ice, however, slipped away with her husband far earlier. They had their own beauty to create. The Princess of Fire also slipped away with her husband to create fireworks of their own. The Brothers Jones had, in fact, met their match, and they were entirely okay with that.

I've searched the world to find my heart is Yours

Oh, my heart is Yours

[nyxetoile]

If it’s not too much trouble, could you share some of the book recommendations you got a while ago for your daughter? Or some she’s read and enjoyed? Mine (11)is going through books at an awe-inspiring pace and we can’t find new ones fast enough for her

I’d be happy to! This is just a small selection of ones I was recommended and researched for her. I’ve bolded the ones we bought and read. There is an emphasis, later in the list, of books with characters who have anxiety, since that’s something she’s dealing with.

Watership Down - Richard Adams: A group of rabbits leave their warren after one of them has a premonition that they will be killed. On the way to finding a safe place to live the encounter dogs, cats, mean rabbits, and humans. Very strong Warrior Cats vibe.

Animal Farm - George Orwell: A group of talking farm animals take over the farm and run it themselves. As the discrepancy between the working animals and the animals in charge grows, it becomes apparent that four legged pigs aren't so different from two legged ones. (It's an allegory for the Russian revolution and the rise of communism.)

Island of the Blue Dolphins - Scott O'Dell: A native girl is left behind by her tribe during a migration. Alone on an island she learns to hunt and survive, befriending a wolf and making a really pretty dress. Based on a true story. Similar to Hatchet.

Tuck Everlasting - Natalie Babbit: A girl in the 1800s meets a boy whose family drank from the fountain of youth and must now spend eternity protecting their secrets.

The Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman: An orphan boy is raised by a vampire and several ghosts and ghouls in a graveyard until the world of the living intrudes. Avoids the "death by Newbury" curse by having the mentor figures dead to start with.

The Blackbird Girls - Anne Blankman: Two girls in Russia deal with the aftermath of the Chernobyl disaster. 

Call of the Wild - Jack London: Trials and tribulations of a half-wild dog in the Yukon in the early 1900s.

Howl's Moving Castle - Diana Wynne Jones: Under a spell from the Witch of the Waste Sophie joins the household of the wizard Howl, hoping to find a way to break the curse. Along the way she befriends a fire demon, tames the wizard, and take on the witch herself.

The Dark is Rising - Susan Cooper: Steeped in King Arthur lore, it's a fantasy adventure surrounding a boy who discovers on his 11th birthday that he is one of six people who can fight against the Dark - and evil power threatening to take over the world.

The Witch of Blackbird Pond - Elizabeth George Speare: Set in the 1600s, Kit Tyler moves from the bright, warm Caribbean to the cold, stiff Puritan community in the Connecticut Colony. Lonely and trapped, her only friend is an old Quaker woman who lives outside of town that everyone calls a witch. When their friendship is discovered, the community turns on Kit, accusing her of witchcraft.

The Book Thief - Marcus Zusak: At the start of WWII, in Germany, a girl is sent to live with foster parents. On the way she steals a book. Told from the POV of Death, we follow Liesel through the next few years of her life, stealing books, pretending to be a Nazi, and hiding a Jewish man in the basement. Through it all, Liesel steals books, as her love of reading and words keeps her sane in a world increasingly growing mad.

Doll Bones - Holly Black: The story of three morbid kids trying to bring a haunted doll to its rightful grave in a neighboring town.

Emily Windsnap Series - Liz Kessler: A girl in England discovers she's really a mermaid and goes on adventures.

Grace Moore Series - Frog and Esther Jones: Magic is illegal. When a group of secret magic users is killed Grace must team up with an untrained, untrusting boy to try to solve the mystery. Fun characters, LGBT representation.

The Shadows Between Us - Tricia Levenseller: Alessandra has a fool prof plan to become powerful. Woo the Shadow King, kill him, rule as queen. But before she can be queen she needs to marry him and to do that she needs to keep him alive. Turns out she's not the only one who wants him dead. And maybe the only match for a Shadow King is a cunning queen.

Every Heart a Doorway - Seanan McGuire - Nancy is the latest guest at Miss. West's Home for Wayward Children, a home for all the children who have gone on fantastic adventures in other worlds, only to come home to the real world. It's a home where they can be believed, while also coming to terms with the fact they can never go back. But then children start to die- murdered - and Nancy must band together to find out who is killing them and protect their home. (Nancy is portrayed as a romantic asexual and the book is hailed as a good one for kids who are questioning their own sexuality.)

A Quiet Kind of Thunder - Sara Barnard: A girl with anxiety and selective mutism befriends and eventually falls in love with a deaf boy who accepts her for who she is and helps her find her voice.

The Rest of Us Just Live Here - Patrick Ness: A story about all the people in the magical adventure who aren't "the Chosen One." trying to live their lives and go to school and not get caught up in the zombie apocalypse or quest for the grail

Six of Crows - Leigh Bardugo: Aspiring criminal Kaz is offered the chance at the score of a lifetime - sure to make him rich, if he can get along with the other misfits he needs to pull it off.

Turtles All the Way Down - John Green: Lifelong friendship, the intimacy of an unexpected reunion, Star Wars fan fiction, and tuatara. But at its heart is Aza Holmes, a young woman navigating daily existence within the ever-tightening spiral of her own thoughts.

This is Not a Test - Courtney Summers: Six teens are trapped in a school during a zombie apocalypse.

Under Rose Tainted Skies - Louise Gornall: A teen girl named Norah struggles with extreme anxiety and OCD that keep her a prisoner of her own home, until a boy named Luke gives her a reason to step out.

Everything All At Once - Katrina Leno: When her anxiety worsens after a death in the family, Lottie receives a series of letters from her aunt - a famous author - which help her overcome her fears and find her own voice.

[theomnilegent]

2019 Upcoming LGBTQA Fiction I’m Excited For!

A new year, a new top nine for women-lead LGBT fiction I’m looking forward to reading! There are, of course, a great many more books than the nine I’ve chosen this time ‘round - I think I will eventually make a part two to this post. I am so, so happy to see that this year we have even more diversity, even more stories about characters from all walks of life, from different parts of the LGBTQA umbrella, and even more LGBT novels. I remember a time where it’d be hard to find more than two YA novels with LGBT themes published in a single year - and now we have so many amazing works coming out!

The themes for 2019 seem to be gay witches, space gays, and explorations of mental illness in the LGBT community. I am so excited to read stories about girls and magic! I am more excited to read stories about girls and love! And I am definitely excited to see multiple books seriously addressing the issues of mental illness in young lesbian and bisexual women - it is a serious topic that has often been glossed over in the past, and to see multiple works that want to tackle these issues, and the issues of toxic relationships, in a healthy way is refreshing. 

Below you’ll find titles, summaries, and goodreads links.

Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me by Mariko Tamaki Laura Dean, the most popular girl in high school, was Frederica Riley's dream girl: charming, confident, and SO cute. There's just one problem: Laura Dean is maybe not the greatest girlfriend. Reeling from her latest break up, Freddy's best friend, Doodle, introduces her to the Seek-Her, a mysterious medium, who leaves Freddy some cryptic parting words: break up with her. But Laura Dean keeps coming back, and as their relationship spirals further out of her control, Freddy has to wonder if it's really Laura Dean that's the problem. Maybe it's Freddy, who is rapidly losing her friends, including Doodle, who needs her now more than ever. Fortunately for Freddy, there are new friends, and the insight of advice columnists like Anna Vice to help her through being a teenager in love.

Starworld by Audrey Coulthurst & Paula Garner Sam Jones and Zoe Miller have one thing in common: they both want an escape from reality. Loner Sam flies under the radar at school and walks on eggshells at home to manage her mom’s obsessive-compulsive disorder, wondering how she can ever leave to pursue her dream of studying aerospace engineering. Popular, people-pleasing Zoe puts up walls so no one can see her true self: the girl who was abandoned as an infant, whose adoptive mother has cancer, and whose disabled brother is being sent away to live in a facility. When an unexpected encounter results in the girls’ exchanging phone numbers, they forge a connection through text messages that expands into a private universe they call Starworld. In Starworld, they find hilarious adventures, kindness and understanding, and the magic of being seen for who they really are. But when Sam’s feelings for Zoe turn into something more, will the universe they’ve built survive the inevitable explosion?

The Lost Coast by Amy Rose Capetta Danny didn't know what she was looking for when she and her mother spread out a map of the United States and Danny put her finger down on Tempest, California. What she finds are the Grays: a group of friends who throw around terms like queer and witch like they're ordinary and everyday, though they feel like an earthquake to Danny. But Danny didn't just find the Grays. They cast a spell that calls her halfway across the country, because she has something they need: she can bring back Imogen, the most powerful of the Grays, missing since the summer night she wandered into the woods alone. But before Danny can find Imogen, she finds a dead boy with a redwood branch through his heart. Something is very wrong amid the trees and fog of the Lost Coast, and whatever it is, it can kill. Lush, eerie, and imaginative, Amy Rose Capetta's tale overflows with the perils and power of discovery — and what it means to find your home, yourself, and your way forward.

Tell Me How You Really Feel by Aminah Mae Safi Sana Khan is a cheerleader and a straight A student. She's the classic (somewhat obnoxious) overachiever determined to win. Rachel Recht is a wannabe director who's obsesssed with movies and ready to make her own masterpiece. As she's casting her senior film project, she knows she's found the perfect lead - Sana. There's only one problem. Rachel hates Sana. Rachel was the first girl Sana ever asked out, but Rachel thought it was a cruel prank and has detested Sana ever since. Told in alternative viewpoints and inspired by classic romantic comedies, this engaging and edgy YA novel follows two strongwilled young women falling for each other despite themselves.

The Meaning of Birds by Jaye Robin Brown Before, Jessica has always struggled with anger issues, but come sophomore year that all changes when Vivi crashes into her life. As their relationship blossoms, Vivi not only helps Jess deal with her pain, she also encourages her to embrace her talent as an artist. And for the first time, it feels like the future is filled with possibilities. After In the midst of senior year, Jess’s perfect world is erased when Vivi suddenly passes away. Reeling from the devastating loss, Jess pushes everyone away, and throws out her plans to go to art school. Because art is Vivi and Vivi is gone forever. Desperate for an escape, Jess gets consumed in her work-study program, letting all of her dreams die. Until she makes an unexpected new friend who shows her a new way to channel her anger, passion, and creativity. Although Jess may never draw again, if she can find a way to heal and room in her heart, she just might be able to forge a new path for herself without Vivi.

The Weight of the Stars by K. Ancrum Ryann Bird dreams of traveling across the stars. But a career in space isn’t an option for a girl who lives in a trailer park on the wrong side of town. So Ryann becomes her circumstances and settles for acting out and skipping school to hang out with her delinquent friends. One day she meets Alexandria: a furious loner who spurns Ryann’s offer of friendship. After a horrific accident leaves Alexandria with a broken arm, the two misfits are brought together despite themselves—and Ryann learns her secret: Alexandria’s mother is an astronaut who volunteered for a one-way trip to the edge of the solar system. Every night without fail, Alexandria waits to catch radio signals from her mother. And its up to Ryann to lift her onto the roof day after day until the silence between them grows into friendship, and eventually something more...   

How It Feels To Float by Helena Fox Biz knows how to float. She has her people, her posse, her mom and the twins. She has Grace. And she has her dad, who tells her about the little kid she was, who loves her so hard, and who shouldn't be here but is. So Biz doesn't tell anyone anything. Not about her dark, runaway thoughts, not about kissing Grace or noticing Jasper, the new boy. And she doesn't tell anyone about her dad. Because her dad died when she was six. And Biz knows how to float, right there on the surface--normal okay regular fine. But after what happens on the beach--first in the ocean, and then in the sand--the tethers that hold Biz steady come undone. Dad disappears, and with him, all comfort. It might be easier, better, sweeter to float all the way away? Or maybe stay a little longer, find her father, bring him back to her. Or maybe--maybe maybe maybe--there's a third way Biz just can't see yet.

Going Off Script by Jen Wilde Seventeen-year-old Bex is thrilled when she gets an internship on her favorite tv show, Silver Falls. Unfortunately, the internship isn't quite what she expected... instead of sitting in a crowded writer's room volleying ideas back and forth, Production Interns are stuck picking up the coffee. Determined to prove her worth as a writer, Bex drafts her own script and shares it with the head writer―who promptly reworks it and passes it off as his own! Bex is understandably furious, yet...maybe this is just how the industry works? But when they rewrite her proudly lesbian character as straight, that's the last straw! It's time for Bex and her crush to fight back.

These Witches Don’t Burn by Isabel Sterling Hannah's a witch, but not the kind you're thinking of. She's the real deal, an Elemental with the power to control fire, earth, water, and air. But even though she lives in Salem, Massachusetts, her magic is a secret she has to keep to herself. If she's ever caught using it in front of a Reg (read: non-witch), she could lose it. For good. So, Hannah spends most of her time avoiding her ex-girlfriend (and fellow Elemental Witch) Veronica, hanging out with her best friend, and working at the Fly by Night Cauldron selling candles and crystals to tourists, goths, and local Wiccans. But dealing with her ex is the least of Hannah's concerns when a terrifying blood ritual interrupts the end-of-school-year bonfire. Evidence of dark magic begins to appear all over Salem, and Hannah's sure it's the work of a deadly Blood Witch. The issue is, her coven is less than convinced, forcing Hannah to team up with the last person she wants to see: Veronica. While the pair attempt to smoke out the Blood Witch at a house party, Hannah meets Morgan, a cute new ballerina in town. But trying to date amid a supernatural crisis is easier said than done, and Hannah will have to test the limits of her power if she's going to save her coven and get the girl, especially when the attacks on Salem's witches become deadlier by the day.