#what she does is up to her but if she ever needs anywhere to hideout or anyone to keep her safe well

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 17 - To Watch The Dying of the Day

Summary: Say, isn't it strange? I am still me, and you are still you. In this place. Isn't it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers. To strangers again.

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A/N: Oh gosh, it's been so long! A mixture of burnout and chaos will do that to a girl. But it's here, coming in at a strong 7k words. It's on the shorter side, especially since my previous chapters have been anywhere between 10-13k words. But this chapter is transitioning us back into the main story. So do with that information as you will, its going to be a bumpy ride....

TW: None really, just hella angst.

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw 

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

StoryTags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, John?” Abigail’s voice echoed through the camp as the tent flaps were shoved open harshly by the young man, who only ignored her comment. He was making a beeline for the one person he needed to complete his team—the one person he knew would stand by his side to enact revenge on the men who nearly took his brother's life.

Kate was chopping celery and carrots for an afternoon stew when she heard the heavy footsteps of John approaching. His gaze was determined, each step fueled with a fiery purpose. She glanced up to see Abigail standing not far behind him, arms crossed in frustration, throwing her hands in the air as John continued to ignore her protests. Kate already knew what he was going to ask of her.

John had found Colm O’Driscoll’s hideout, and he was ready to take action.

Kate placed the knife down with a sigh. Since their return from Emerald Ranch, things had been relatively calm. At least as calm as life could get when you were running with a bunch of outlaws, hanging onto the threads of some "plan" by a man she barely trusted. When they arrived back from their trip, Sean and the boys had planned a small party for Arthur—a ‘Celebration of Life,’ the ambitious Irishman had called it. Though it was more likely just another excuse to drink beer, dance, and be rowdy.

They used the get-together as an opportunity to tell the others about their relationship. Kate drank and sang with the girls, talking with them into the late hours of the night about her time with Arthur. Their small circle was filled with ‘aww’s’ and teasing glances. Kate felt a weight lifted off her shoulders after telling them, like somehow their relationship was finally real now that the rest of the gang knew—at least the ones most important to her.

Arthur was gradually reintegrated into jobs and missions, starting with small fishing trips and eventually moving on to more lucrative endeavors like robbing stagecoaches. Kate protested at first, trying to convince him there were safer ways to make money, but she knew she couldn't take the thrill of the heist out of the outlaw so easily. Arthur found work where he could, especially when Dutch wasn’t ordering him around. All of Arthur’s worries about being replaced seemed to dissipate in the days after his return. Dutch, ever the charmer, appeared overjoyed that Arthur was making a steady recovery and happy that his son found some happiness in a woman. He couldn't resist leaving Arthur with a gentle reminder that their priority was, and still is, to make enough money to escape. Arthur assured him with a promise: he would see it done.

This morning, Dutch sent Arthur, Sean, and Micah into Rhodes to meet up with Bill. Sheriff Gray wanted to speak with them about some work, and Arthur felt mighty proud to be involved, given his month-long absence. After breakfast, Kate pulled him aside for a few quick good-luck and be-safe kisses. It had become a new habit of theirs, since alone-time was rarely granted. They always made sure to say goodbye when one was leaving for a job, sealed with a kiss and a hug.

Kate looked up at John from under the brim of her hat, wishing in that moment Arthur was there to set him straight. But she knew nothing was going to change the young outlaw’s mind.

“Kate,” John greeted with a nod, his tone indicating he was ready to say more.

Wiping her hands on her raggedy apron, she leaned against the cutting table. “Fine afternoon, ain’t it, John?” she said with a smile, squinting up at the sun.

John wasted no time. “We’re ridin’ out today, to Hanging Dog Ranch. You coming?”

“Is that so?” She sighed. “What for?” Kate’s voice carried a hint of feigned ignorance. She knew why, but she was still trying to find it in herself to say no.

Since their ride back from Emerald Ranch, Kate had wrestled with Arthur’s words. She knew revenge was foolish, but seeing the way it had changed him cut her so deep she feared she would carry that rage with her for a long time. It was the same rage she felt years ago when she lost everything. Back then, her anger often consumed her, but over time she learned how to control it, to use it to protect herself and others. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to keep her word to Arthur, but also to protect him.

“You know why, Kate,” John’s voice grew stern, pulling her from her thoughts. “Colm’s men are up there. This is our chance.”

Kate’s heart clenched. She wanted to protect Arthur, to ensure that what happened to him never happened to anyone again. But she also knew that succumbing to vengeance could destroy her just as easily as it could destroy their enemies.

“John,” she began, her voice wavering slightly, “I promised Arthur I wouldn’t get swept up in this mess.”

John’s expression softened a moment, but his resolve remained firm. “I get it, Kate. But we need you. If we don’t take this chance, we might not get another.”

Kate huffed and lowered her voice so only he could hear, “Does Dutch know about this? Doesn’t he have a plan to get back at Colm?” She tried to make him see reason in her questions.

John only shook his head. “To hell with his plans. The way I see it, Colm doesn’t see us as a threat anymore. He tried to lay a trap and set the law on us. Well, he fucked around and it's about time he found out.”

Kate rolled her eyes at John’s ambitious statement. “John, no. I can’t go through with this and you shouldn't either.” She planned to leave him with that, pulling the apron over her head and starting to walk away.

John grunted and followed behind her, his frustration growing more evident. “C’mon, Kate, quit pussyfootin’ around. We need you, and we’re losing daylight.”

Kate turned and saw behind him as the others began saddling their horses and loading their weapons. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Sadie packing her saddlebags, and her heart began to race as Lenny waited proudly on the back of his stallion, ready to take off at a moment's notice. Charles was there too, making his way over to see what the hold-up was. She was surprised to see this was the group that would be leading the charge. But, after all, these were Arthur’s closest and most trusted comrades.

Consequently, they were also the people Kate cared for deeply and saw as her own family. They were all putting themselves in harm's way for the sake of revenge.

“What would Arthur say about this?” Kate said finally.

Charles had finally caught up to them and heard the last bit of the conversation. “Arthur would say revenge is a fool’s game,” he stated.

“Exactly, thank you Char-”

“But those are his words, not mine,” Charles interrupted.

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose as John continued his persuasion. “Arthur’s the goddamn fool. We need to strike back, now. What if they come after us again? What if this time Colm takes one of the girls, or you?”

Kate felt the weight of John’s words settling heavily on her shoulders. The thought of Colm’s men taking her or any of the other women gnawed at her heart. She couldn’t deny the logic in John’s argument, even if it went against Arthur’s wishes.

Looking past the two men, she saw Lenny waving to her as if simply asking, "What are you waiting for?" John must have told them she would be joining, as Sadie looked over in anticipation, already holding Lorena’s reins, ready to leave as soon as Kate gave the word.

“Charles,” she began, her voice deep with conviction, “you’ve got a level head. This is a bad idea. How could you go through with this?”

Her words came out with a bite, unintended, but they stung nonetheless. Charles had always been a beacon of reason, often the one she or Arthur leaned on in times of need.

Charles' response betrayed no hurt, only his own sense of determination. “These bastards deserve it. Arthur suffered enough.” 

Kate found herself seething at his words, anger bubbling up like black coffee neglected over a fire for too long. The gang knew Arthur better than she did, Kate understood that much. But nobody had watched him suffer like she had. Night after endless night, holding his broken body and cradling him as she willed with all her strength that the pain and tortuous nightmares would cease. Her thoughts drifted to the night of their shared intimacy, seeing how Colm had broken him in unimaginable ways.

Nobody understood the extent of his suffering, except for Kate.

“Sadie suffered by them too,” Charles added after a moment. 

“We’ve all suffered from the O’Driscolls!” John exclaimed with a defeated sigh. “Choose your battles, Kate. But we’re going to send a message to Colm, whether you come or not.”

The two men turned to walk away, their boots kicking up dust as they marched back to their horses, saddled and ready for battle. Moments later, a third pair of footsteps fell in time behind them.

Kate had made her choice.

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The dry spell had lingered for well over a month, and the oppressive heat of Lemoyne had turned the air into a stifling, dusty haze. The town of Rhodes lay beneath a thick, barren cloud of yellow dust, each gust of wind sending particles stinging into Arthur’s throat and eyes, making them water. The winds whipped past him as he spurred Belle forward, urging her faster and faster. His grip on the reins was white-knuckled, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as he tried to steady his racing heart.

The Sheriff had caught on to their schemes, and set them up in Rhodes. Sean had paid the ultimate price with a bullet between the eyes. The image of Sean’s lifeless body was seared into Arthur’s mind, a haunting image he knew would never leave him. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the relentless memory that played over and over like a broken motion picture. Sean had been on the cusp of becoming a man, his 24th birthday just a few months away. Though Arthur gave him grief since the day he joined their gang, deep inside he saw the ambitious Irishman as his younger brother. 

The irony of the situation gnawed at Arthur’s consciousness. Sean had warned them it was a setup. He had sensed something was off from the moment they entered the sleepy town, but both Arthur and Micah had dismissed his concerns as mere paranoia. Now, anger swelled in Arthur's belly, especially toward Micah. As much as he despised the shady outlaw, Arthur couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t have made it out alive without his help. Micah recognized that Arthur’s injuries had hindered his abilities, though his accuracy remained as deadly as ever. Together, they had picked off nearly every lawman and trigger-happy drunk who stood in their way, barely escaping with Bill in tow. Arthur knew his disability had slowed him down, and he blamed himself for Sean’s loss. 

The escape was a blur of gunfire and chaos. Arthur's mind raced with the events of the ambush, replaying each moment as a jarring blend of fear and fury. Belle's hooves thundered against the ground, each stride a desperate attempt to outrun the mix of anger, guilt and shame that threatened to overwhelm him. The acrid taste of dust and blood lingered in his mouth, a reminder of the violence they had scarcely escaped.

As they galloped through the barren landscape, Arthur's thoughts turned to Kate. He knew she would be waiting for him back at camp, a small comfort amidst the chaos. But the moment of peace would be short lived, they would have to leave again, and soon. The law would catch up to them in a matter of days. 

The thought of facing Dutch made Arthur cringe inwardly. Dutch would undoubtedly demand a report of what happened, and Arthur knew it could go one of two ways: Dutch might dismiss the incident, as he had when Arthur previously warned about their increasing sloppiness and the Pinkertons closing in. Or he might tuck-tail and opt for retreat to a new hideout, favoring the path with the fewest casualties. Either way, Arthur was in for an earful back at camp. He silently hoped that someone would go back for Sean, praying he wouldn't be discarded in a mass grave. Every man deserved a proper burial, but for people like him and his gang, it was a luxury rarely granted. 

As Clemens Point came into view, a deep sense of unease settled over Arthur. The camp seemed unusually quiet, devoid of the usual bustle and chatter. An eerie silence had taken its place. He panicked for a moment, what if the law had found them while he was away?

Arthur barely had time to dismount before Abigail came running towards him, tears streaming down her face. Dutch was close behind her, his expression grim. A chill ran down Arthur's spine.

Abigail grabbed Arthur's arm, her voice trembling with panic. “Arthur, they took Jack! Someone took Jack!” she cried, her eyes wild with fear.

Dutch placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though his eyes were hard with determination. “We’ll get him back, Abigail. I promise you that,” he said firmly.

Arthur opened his mouth to explain what had happened in Rhodes, but the urgency of the situation left no room for words. His mind was whirling with this new information, trying to piece together what happened while he was away. There was a moment of silence, and Arthur’s heart skipped a beat as he realized Kate was also nowhere to be seen.

“Who took him?” Arthur said finally, his voice betrayed no hint of the unease he was feeling.

Hosea stepped forward, his expression was dire. “We believe the Braithwaites have taken Jack. They’ve been gunning for us ever since we crossed them,” he explained.

“Where is my son?” Abigail shouted. “If anything–oh God,” she choked on the words. “Where is my son Dutch!” 

“We will find him,” Dutch affirmed, clenching his jaw, eyes blazing with resolve. “We’ll make that Braithwaite bitch pay for this.” He surveyed the three men as Bill and Micah stood awkwardly nearby, unsure what to say. “What the hell happened to you three? Where’s Sean?”

Arthur took in Hosea’s words and then let out a breath as he shook his head. “They set us up, Dutch. Sheriff Gray killed Sean, nearly got Bill too. We shot up half the town trying to escape. If we’re not careful about this, we’ll surely be caught by the law.” They were in deep shit now, both families were gunning for them. They couldn't afford another casualty, let alone young Jack. The situation tore at his heart. 

Dutch’s eyes darkened, his mouth set in a tight line. Arthur recognized that look—it was the look of a man out of options. “We’re getting that boy back, Arthur, or so help me God—”

At that moment, the thunderous sound of hooves echoed down the path to their hideout. Arthur's hand hovered over his revolver, his mind still in fight-or-flight mode. As the riders emerged from the trees, he saw John leading the group, with Kate at the rear. A wave of relief washed over him; at least the law hadn't caught up to them yet. But as they drew closer, Arthur noticed Kate's clothing was stained with blood. His relief quickly turned to a mix of worry and dread.

As John dismounted, Abigail flung herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “They took him, John! They took our boy!” she cried, her voice breaking with desperation. John shot a confused look at Arthur, his own emotions swirling with shock and concern. He held onto Abigail, trying to process the chaos around him.

Dutch's voice cut through the commotion like a knife, demanding answers. “How nice of you to finally show up. Where have you lot been?”

“Taking care of business,” John replied dryly, his grip on Abigail tightening as he tried to make sense of the unfolding crisis. The air was thick with urgency and panic, even the winds seemed to hold their breath, anticipating the next move.

“What business?” Dutch spat, his agitation palpable as he glared at his returning crew members. The tension crackled like electricity in the air, setting everyone on edge.

Arthur's heart pounded in his chest, the rapid beat echoing the chaos of his thoughts. Sean's death, the ambush, Jack's disappearance, and the blood on Kate’s clothes all swirled in his mind. He moved with heavy, purposeful steps toward Kate, his focus narrowing to her alone. He tuned out the escalating argument between Dutch and John, his attention solely on the woman he loved.

“Kate,” he called, his voice rough from the dry air and his mounting anxiety.

She turned at the sound of her name, immediately reading the worry etched into Arthur’s face. Noticing her bloodied clothing, she quickly reassured him, “It’s not my blood.”

Relief flooded Arthur, and he pulled her into a tight hug, inhaling her familiar scent. The rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest provided a momentary solace amidst the turmoil.

“What’s going on?” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear as she pulled away slightly.

“Rhodes was a trap. They set the law on us, Sean’s dead,” Arthur briefly explained, his voice heavy with grief. Kate gasped softly, her eyes widening. “We just got back, and Jack’s missing. Hosea thinks it was the Braithwaites.”

Kate stood speechless, feeling the weight of the world crashing down around her. "Oh, Arthur, we have to—"

Arthur gripped her arms fiercely, his eyes burning with a mix of confusion and betrayal. Desperation etched into every line of his face. “Where were you, Kate?” he demanded, his voice laced with hurt and anger.

He hadn’t meant for the words to come out with such force, but his mind was a whirlwind of doubts and anxiety. Jack could be dead for all he knew. The thought of an innocent child being involved in this nightmare gnawed at his soul. Despite everything, Arthur blamed himself for Jack's disappearance. He cursed himself for not ensuring someone was watching over the boy when he left. Normally, there were plenty of people he and Abigail trusted with Jack, but those people had been gone nearly as long as he had. He desperately needed an explanation for her absence.

Kate pulled away from his grip but held his hands tightly, her gaze filled with guilt. Arthur’s heart began to sink, a cold dread settling in his stomach. “We were up at Hanging Dog Ranch,” she breathed. “Where Colm’s men were hiding.”

Arthur’s gaze hardened, a cold look crossing over his features. “I don’t s’ppose you were there to play hooky?” he spat, sarcasm dripping from his words. He felt the world spinning around him, losing Sean, losing Jack, and now, feeling a profound sense of betrayal from the woman he loved.

Kate shook her head quietly, her cheeks flushing pink with shame. “Arthur, I—”

Arthur’s grip on her hands tightened momentarily before he let go. “You promised me, Kate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You promised you wouldn’t get involved with Colm.”

Kate’s heart shattered at the pain in his eyes. “I know, and I am so sorry. But I thought—”

“You thought what?” Arthur interrupted, his voice rising with a mix of anger and fear. “You thought this would help? That getting yourself killed would make things better?”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling slightly. “I just wanted to protect you and the others from those terrible people.”

“That is not your job, Kate!” Arthur shouted, and Kate flinched, taking a step back from him.

Arthur let out a breath, shaking his head, the betrayal cutting deep. “You just don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand what it does to me, seeing you put yourself in danger like that.”

“I see you put yourself in danger every day,” she answered meekly, her voice wavering with a mix of fear and frustration.

“Don’t make this about me,” he said sharply. “I trusted you to keep that promise.” The life he lived, the life she had joined, was a dangerous one. And Kate wouldn’t be the first woman he lost to such violence. Born from a promise that he broke, costing the life of his family. If he had lost her and Jack in the same night, he feared what he would unleash upon himself.

“I’m sorry Arthur,” Kate breathed deeply, tears finally spilling over and streaming down her cheeks. There was an old selfish ache deep in her soul, a desperate need to make them suffer for taking someone from her. Her fear of loss drove her every thought, every action, every breath. It had consumed her, nearly losing herself during Arthur’s recovery. Kate had never known anything but grief and loss. Holding on so tightly to her sliver of happiness that she was smothering it. Her selfish need cost her Arthur’s trust. 

“Kate,” his voice was softer now, laced with deep sorrow. Arthur shook his head, “I can’t go through this again.” His eyes softened, though the hurt remained. 

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She felt a dark sense of dread, knowing that despite her intentions she had broken his trust and his heart. 

The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon them, a suffocating silence settling in. Arthur’s eyes, filled with a mix of anger and hurt, searched hers. The pain of his words, the pain of her actions, it all mingled together in a storm of emotions that neither of them could escape. A deeper love that remained unspoken.

Before she could find the words to make things right, Dutch’s voice boomed across the camp. “We’re not waiting another damn minute! Mount up, we’re riding out to get Jack back now!”

Arthur turned away, his expression unreadable. “I’m glad that you’re home safe. I wish I could say the same for Jack,” he said, walking over to mount his mare once more. The other boys were saddling up, the tension in the air thick with anticipation.

Kate stood in stunned silence, tears streaming down her face. The fear of losing Arthur, the guilt of breaking her promise, and the terror of what lay ahead gnawed at her. She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness as she watched Arthur ride off into the night, leaving her standing there with her heart in pieces.

As she watched the men race down the winding path out of Clemens Point, she noticed Abigail's trembling form. Abigail was using her apron to wipe the tears that stained her cheeks. Kate swallowed her sorrow, pushing down her own broken heart. This was about Jack and Abigail.

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“I bet this has something to do with why you got shot to hell in town.” John’s voice broke Arthur from his clouding thoughts. The trees raced past them in a blur, and Arthur hadn’t even realized his brother was riding right beside him.

Arthur’s mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and turmoil. The events of the day had left him feeling raw and exposed. The setup in Rhodes, Kate’s actions, and now Jack’s abduction—all of it weighed heavily on him. The feeling gnawing at his insides.

“I don’t want to think about that right now, John,” he answered, trying to push the memory of Sean's lifeless body out of his mind. “We have to focus on Jack.”

John’s voice rose with anger, a mirror of Arthur's own inner turmoil. “I swear, I’ll kill every single one of them.” The desperation in his voice was palpable, and Arthur could sense the fear behind his brother's bravado.

Dutch’s voice called from the front of the line, a forced calmness trying to steady the group. “Easy, John. Try to stay calm. We’ll make them pay for this.”

“What about the plan, Dutch? Isn’t this family sitting on gold?” Bill’s voice cut through the night, his ulterior concerns evident.

Hosea answered, his tone grim and weary. “I hate to break it to you, but there is no gold. I’ve turned every stone. If they ever had any, it's gone.”

“For Christ’s sake, Hosea, after everything? Another perfect plan fed to the dogs,” John retorted, his voice laced with bitter frustration. Arthur felt the same anger bubbling up inside him—another one of Dutch’s schemes that had led them into danger and kept them on the run from the law.

“We underestimated them,” said Hosea, his voice heavy with regret and concern.

“No, they underestimated us!” Dutch roared, his voice echoing through the trees. “Enough talk. There’s no point arguing how we got here. This is where we are. And we are going to kill every one of those inbred trash.”

Arthur’s grip tightened on the reins, his knuckles white with tension. The thought of what lay ahead mixed with a fierce determination to bring Jack back safely. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat of anxiety and resolve. As they rode on, the night closed in around them, a shroud of darkness and danger. The only sounds were the thunder of hooves and the heavy breathing of their mounts. Arthur’s mind was a storm of emotions, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him.

The ride to Braithwaite Manor was filled with a tense silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Arthur’s mind kept drifting back to Kate. They were close now, and there was no turning back. Jack’s life was at risk. The stakes were higher than ever, and the weight of their mission rested heavily on his heart. There was no room for distraction or hesitation.

Dutch’s voice broke through the silence, a final order before the storm. “Nobody makes a move until I say so. Follow my lead.”

The tension in the air was electric as they approached the manor, each man ready for the fight of their lives. As they dismounted, Arthur’s thoughts turned briefly to Kate once more. 

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Kate couldn’t sleep. The lamp was down to the midnight oil in the small green canvas tent that the Marstons called home. She had stayed with Abigail while the men were out in search of Jack. She couldn’t tell how long they had been gone; her weary mind drifted in and out of consciousness. She tried to stay alert for their arrival, or for anyone else who might try to abduct another member of their gang.

Abigail slept beside her, her cheeks tinted pink from tears. She clutched Jack's nightgown tightly to her chest, inhaling the scent of her child, her whole world. Kate understood that feeling. She looked down at her hands, the dim light flickering across her fingers. Old blood was dried into the cracks of her nails. Images flashed before her eyes of the violence that had defined her day. She had unleashed herself on Colm’s men, disregarding her promise. And consequently, she had neglected the safety of those left behind at camp.

An acidic queasiness settled in her belly. It had felt good to kill those men. By some miracle, or perhaps coincidence, she had found Arthur’s captors amongst the men hiding at the ranch. The two men had recognized her, though she had no idea how. They had never met before. But like most cocky men, they boasted about Arthur’s torture and the pain they would inflict upon her. Little did they know who she was.

Keeping them alive as the last two men standing, Kate gave them the same courtesy they had given Arthur. She made sure they would never use their arms again, and strung them up by their ankles. Finally, she sliced open their bellies, their blood draining like pigs for the slaughter. Her friends watched in cautious silence. And when she was done, she mounted Lorena, and together they left the ranch without so much as another word.

It was justice, Kate tried to convince herself. But no, it was a deep selfishness. One that an old friend had stoked like flames to a fire. Perhaps it was in her nature, to lose lives and take them. All of the people Kate was, and tried to be, were always a part of her. The mother, the nurturer, the defender, and the killer.

She regretted her actions, but selfishly, she would do it all again. The thrill of revenge had brought her a temporary sense of control, a fleeting moment where she felt powerful in a world that constantly threatened to strip her of everything she held dear. But as she sat in the tent, the reality of her choices weighed heavily on her. She wasn’t sure if she could ever reconcile the different parts of herself—the woman who longed for peace and the one who couldn’t escape the violence that had shaped her life.

Exhaustion finally overcame her. The flickering light of the lamp faded as she drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the faces of the men she had killed and the fear of what might come next.

When Kate awoke the next morning, the first light of dawn seeped through the tent’s seams. She reached out instinctively, but the space beside her was empty. Abigail was gone. Panic gripped her heart as she sat up quickly, straining to hear the muffled voices outside the tent.

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Arthur stood at the back of the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces around the small wooden table where Dutch sat, the tension palpable in the air. Dutch was deep in thought, the weight of leadership pressing heavily on his shoulders as the gang awaited his orders. Abigail stood silently next to John, her face a mask of fury and desperation. Her tears had dried, replaced by a seething anger at the men she had trusted to protect her family, now arguing over their next move.

The Braithwaites didn’t have Jack. They had passed him off to a man named Angelo Bronte. Arthur’s mind raced with strategies for their next step. Bronte was supposedly in Saint Denis, the heart of the new modern America, where law was heavily enforced, and policemen patrolled every corner. They needed to be cautious. Any misstep could end with them at the end of a rope, and that wouldn’t help Jack at all.

As Arthur idly rubbed his wounded arm, the pain a constant reminder of his recent ordeal, he replayed the events of the night over and over in his mind. They had stormed the Braithwaite manor, killing everyone who stood in their way. But they had been too late. Dutch had shot Catherine Braithwaite without hesitation and ordered the house to be burned to the ground. An entire empire, a long-standing family, wiped out in an instant. 

He was lost in his thoughts when a gentle touch on his arm brought him back to the present. Turning around, he found himself face to face with Kate. The memory of her actions, the betrayal he felt, and the look in her eyes were too much to bear. He quickly averted his gaze.

“Arthur,” she began quietly, her voice trembling with worry. “Where is Jack? Is he—”

Arthur shook his head, cutting her off. “They didn’t have him,” he said curtly.

“W-what did you find?” she stuttered, her voice edged with panic.

He knew he was being cruel by withholding details, but the turmoil inside him made it difficult to be gentle. With a sigh, he turned to face her again. “They handed him off to some Bronte fellow. Jack is somewhere in Saint Denis.”

“I don’t understand, why would they do this? What do we do now?” she asked, her voice rising in desperation.

Arthur gestured towards the group of men who were still arguing heatedly. “They’re working on it,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Feeling incredibly defeated, Arthur’s thoughts were a blend of frustration and sorrow. He had thought things were getting better. After nearly dying from sepsis, he had started to find comfort and joy in Kate’s presence. But now, everything seemed to be falling apart. Sean’s death had barely been processed, overshadowed by Jack’s disappearance. His recent fight with Kate had left a gaping hole in his heart, the urge to mend things with her gnawing at him. But there was no time for feelings right now.

The gang was on the brink of a precipice, and Arthur knew they needed to act quickly and decisively. As much as he wanted to fix things with Kate, Jack’s safety had to come first. Pushing down his own emotions, he focused on the task at hand, knowing that every moment they delayed could bring them closer to disaster.

“It’s gonna work out, John,” Hosea’s voice joined the commotion, his tone reassuring. “Jack will be fine. Just listen to Dutch.”

Dutch’s voice cut through the din, authoritative and calm. “I don’t expect you to understand this, but I need your trust. Your word, now more than ever. No more running off behind my back. I know you were trying to do the right thing—”

“If I don’t get that boy back safe, I’m—” John shot a glance at Abigail, who stood trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “She’ll kill us all.”

“Looking at this logically, that boy is fine. They only took him to scare us. Nobody takes a child to harm him,” Dutch continued, his words meant to be comforting but failing to ease the tension.

“It’s true, John,” Hosea chimed in, placing a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. “Arthur, what do you think?”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head slightly. They were all trying to be strong for John, but deep down, they were just as scared. They’d seen what this world could do to children. The cruelties of their life were too real, too close. There was no guarantee Jack was safe.

“The boy will be fine,” Arthur lied, trying to steady his voice. “But of course, Marston’s scared rotten. We killed all those people, stirred up all that trouble…for nothing.”

Dutch scoffed from his seat. “No. No, not for nothing. For living. We get that boy back, and we go. It’s about time we leave this place. Trust me.”

Suddenly, Lenny’s voice boomed from the camp entrance. “Dutch! We’ve got a problem!” He shouted, rifles raised and pointing at two strangers who walked into camp with their hands held high.

Arthur’s mouth went dry. It was the Pinkertons. Agent Ross and Agent Milton.

“Not a problem, visitors. We come with a solution,” Milton said coldly, his demeanor relaxed and confident. His gaze found Arthur’s. “Ah, Mr. Morgan. Nice to see you again.”

Instinctively, Arthur stepped in front of Kate, shielding her from whatever was about to unfold. The other gang members began to surround the two agents, their suspicion evident. Dutch betrayed no hint of surprise, remaining seated comfortably.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?” Dutch said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but this is a civilized land now. We didn’t kill all them savages only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity was not yet invented,” Milton explained, his disdain palpable. “This thing? It’s done,” he spat.

Dutch finally rose from his seat, confronting the agent. “This land was never civilized. It’s consumed with man’s love for greed.”

“And that lets you take what you please? Kill whom you please and hang the rest of us? Who made you the messiah to these lost souls you’ve led astray?” Milton retorted coldly.

“I’m nothing but a seeker, Mr. Milton,” Dutch replied.

“You’re nothing but a bunch of killers. But I came here to make a deal; you come with me and I’ll give the rest of you three days to run off and disappear. I’m giving you one last chance to live like decent human beings.” Milton’s voice rose, addressing everyone in the gang.

A bitter chuckle rose from Dutch’s throat. “Ain’t that a fine thing? You risked death by coming into a den of murderers and thieves to have me. And to give them the chance to live and love?”

Kate remained quiet behind Arthur, her hand ready to draw her pistol at a moment's notice. But she sensed that this man, this detective, was telling the truth. Why would he risk so much for one man unless he was out of options?

“I don’t want to kill all these people, Dutch. Just you,” Milton answered, his resolve unwavering.

Dutch raised his hands, a hint of mockery in his voice. “In that case, I’d be happy to join you, Agent Milton.” As he stepped closer to the detective, everyone simultaneously began to draw their pistols.

Kate watched the moment unfold with genuine concern and admiration. These people, Arthur’s gang, were willing to risk everything for one man. Their loyalty and dedication ran deeper than she could ever imagine.

It was Ms. Grimshaw who leveled her shotgun and gave the final orders. “I think it’s time our new friends leave.”

Agent Milton raised his hands once more as Lenny and Javier began to escort them out of camp. “You’re making a big mistake, all of you!”

“The only mistake is how you keep following us. Good day, sir,” Dutch said, turning away, suddenly unbothered.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. And when I return, all of you will die. Run away from this place, you fools!” Milton’s tone carried a desperate warning. As he turned to leave, his gaze locked with Kate’s for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, trying to piece together her familiar face, but Javier’s gun pushed him along.

“How dreadful,” Dutch chuckled as he returned to his seat.

Arthur approached Dutch quickly, his steps heavy with the weight of the situation. “What now?”

“We get out of here. Have the women start packing. I’m sending you and the others to look for a new hideout. We’re running out of time,” Dutch said quietly, his urgency clear.

As Arthur turned to carry out Dutch’s orders, his eyes met Kate’s once more. The pain and fear were mirrored in their gazes. There was no time for reconciliation now. They had a mission to complete, and the stakes had never been higher.

“Arthur, maybe we should consider—” Kate began her voice quiet, searching for the right words to address their precarious situation.

Arthur spun on his heel so fast it made her dizzy. “Don’t. Don’t you even suggest it. You don’t have a say in this anymore, Kate.” His rage towards the Pinkertons and his anxiety about the lives at stake spilled out in hot bursts towards the woman he loved, and he couldn't stop the fire from spreading.

“Excuse me?” she responded, her voice a mix of offense and hurt. “I only want what's best for the gang.”

“The best thing to do now is leave. Go help the women pack,” he ordered, turning away from her.

“When does it end, Arthur? This cat-and-mouse game you have with seemingly every lawman in this country. How many more people have to be killed for it to stop?” Kate’s voice wavered with her fading strength. It was all too much to handle; everything was changing so fast. And now an innocent child was involved. She didn’t know what to do.

Arthur’s voice roared back, “I don’t know! Make up your goddamn mind, Kate. You go back on your word and put a target on your back. And now you want to lecture me on my poor choices? If you’re tired of running, you can leave. I won’t stop you.”

He left her with those words, his steps heavy and final. The men took off without a moment's hesitation, Ms. Grimshaw dishing out orders to begin loading the wagons. Kate felt a bitter moment of déjà vu, back to the day at the Downes ranch. She had scolded him for his actions, as if she were one to reprimand him. Kate had glimpsed the kind of man he truly was that day—the hardened outlaw, the merciless killer. She knew there was a kind heart inside him, and she had fallen in love with that part of him. Convinced herself that she could persuade him to leave it all behind, to give up that title for something softer. Arthur wanted it too, but only now was she beginning to understand the giant inside him. The man who had never known peace, who spent every moment fighting for his life and the lives of his family.

Arthur was consumed by his loyalty, as Kate was consumed by her grief. The realization hit her hard, and she felt a deep, gnawing sorrow. She watched him mount his horse, his back tense with determination and anger. The bitter truth settled over her like a shroud—no matter how much they loved each other, the world they lived in was tearing them apart.

A/N: I hope this chapter was alright! To be honest I went back and forth over this conflict for a while, and I think that’s where the birth of my writers block began. I wasn’t intending for their fight to become so heated, but then i was like “you know what? Their situation is a crock of shit, it can’t all be sunshine and rainbows.”

(Also trying to squeeze this in while simultaneously returning to a major plot point of the game was really hard haha)

So yeah, i may have gotten a bit carried away. But fear not, my summary for this chapter was incredibly dramatic. They’re not breaking up! They just got to figure themselves out, and come to understand one another. I want to make it clear that Kate has just as many flaws as Arthur, and that she suffers in silence too. God these two really need each other 😭

I think this was my first time writing some serious angst that didn’t involve one of them nearly dying (lol). So let me know how I did! It’s been awhile since I updated this story, and sometimes things can get lost to the tricks of time. If you notice any inconsistencies or plot holes please don’t be shy to point them out to me! 🙏❤️

[spyderschaos]

GUYSS

CHAP 2!!

Chapter 2 - The Spider

“No this can’t be!” - a metal leg crashes into concrete, another one against a desk, sending its contents overboard. -“No, no, no, where is it?!”- glass shatters hitting the floor, and sheets of paper scatter everywhere. Impossible! Impossible, he says! It was right there, right on his screen, a glowing dot indicating the location of his spider. His last spider, the only one that wasn’t destroyed in that “lab accident” not two days ago. Yes, “lab accident” in quotations, he refuses to believe it was fully an accident, he does not make mistakes like that! Something else must’ve been at play! Sabotage! Had to be!

No, stop. No use in thinking of that, he’s getting off track. 

The spider. The spider was his only chance to recover at least something from his wrecked research. At the start of his project, he had made sure to tag every single one of his subjects, along with a tracker in case any was ever misplaced or happened to escape. Just that morning he had tracked it to Midtown High and didn’t think much before heading out to find it… and maybe he destroyed the place a bit in the process but details, details, that’s irrelevant! What’s relevant is that he was not able to find it, and when he made it back to his super secret underground lab lair hideout, – better name in the works – the tracker on the spider was gone. The bright, green, flashing dot had just vanished entirely, leaving an empty map behind. 

He spends hours searching for it, looking everywhere in New York, typing in new codes in case the old one was faulty, restarting his program to see if that blasted dot appeared again. But it was no use. There were only two potential scenarios he believes could’ve been the cause of this: either the spider was dead, or somehow its tracker was damaged. However, a scientist like him would not accept a simple answer like the former, no, he knows that arachnid was out there. He stands up straight, staring daggers into the computer screen. He raises a mechanical arm holding a glass terrarium in front of his face. 

“And I’m going to find that pesky spider, if my name isn’t Doctor Octopus!”

Glass shards litter the floor. 

—————

“So.. you have no idea how this happened.” 

Immediately, Amber lets out a very very over-the-top dramatic sigh as she throws herself face-up on the bed next to Gwanda - “No, Gwendolyn I do not know what happened, I woke up like this, no explanation to go along with this.. fabulous new bod. 

Gwanda pushes Amber off the bed. 

“That is not my name and you know it!”

“That’s what you’re caught up with?” - says Pete, spinning around in Amber’s desk chair - “...Ok, so, what do we know?” - he questions after a few moments - “Your hands are sticky and you’re really strong?”

“That’d be about it, yeah…” - This wasn’t going anywhere. What did she expect them to do? Just magically know what happened to her? Amber sighs again, rolling onto her stomach on her spot on the floor. She turns her face to the side, her gaze falling under her bed, when she spots it. - “Oh my god, it’s my favorite hoodie!” - She bolts up holding the piece of clothing in both of her hands - “Wow, I thought I had lost it! Hadn’t seen it since…”-  A small something falls out of the hoodie, stopping Amber in her tracks. She bends back down and picks it up, wondering what it could be.

“It’s a spider.” 

“No shit, captain obvious.” 

“Ok, well, no need to be like that, Gweny, it was simply an observation.” - Amber snarks back. She stares at it in her hand for a bit, turning it around, and poking it at, her thoughts coming to a stop when she realizes. 

“The spider.”

“Yes, we went through this, it’s a spider.”

“No, no, no, the spider, it was the spider. Remember? I felt something bite me when we were in my uncle’s classroom. It was the spider. That’s why it was on my hoodie, I took it off the second I got home and hadn’t pulled it out since. Last week this spider bit me at school.” - She rambles franticly, like she doesn’t know how to explain what’s going through her head at the moment.

“Wait” - It’s Pietro who realizes next - “Are you suggesting it’s the spider that… did this to you?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s exactly it! Think about it. I’ve felt sick ever since that day, but I haven’t left my house all week, and now my hands are sticky, and then this falls out of my hoodie. It has to be that!” - She stares back down at the spider sitting on her hand, finally realizing she doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. No but really, what do you do in this situation? They have no idea where this spider came from, or what else it could’ve done to her. Amber’s kind of freaking out, she’s not going to lie. She hears Gwanda and Pete argue over the chance of it even being true but she doesn’t care. She knows this is what happened, it makes sense in her head… in a way. Got bit by a spider and now she’s a spider mutate with freaky spider-powers. Of course.

Outside of the room, a jingle of keys in the front door’s lock can be heard. Amber’s dad just got home from work. 

“Look” - Gwanda stands from her spot on the bed and takes a step towards the door - “How about we go to your dad? He’s an adult, maybe he can help ‘cause frankly, I don’t got a clue of what we could do. So let’s just- “

Her dad? No way! This is the kind of thing people keep secret, like in shows, and books, and movies. What kid’s first thought is “let’s look for the adult”? 

Before Gwanda gets to finish her sentence, Amber lets out a quick “No!” and extends her arm towards Gwanda with her palm facing up and her middle and ring fingers bending towards her. She doesn’t know why she did it like that, call it a reflex or instinct maybe, but her fingers touch her palm and with a “thwip” a weird, light yellow string shoots out of a tiny hole in her wrist she hadn’t noticed before. The substance — a web maybe? —, lands on Gwanda’s hand, gluing it to the doorknob.

The room falls silent, everyone shocked. Jaws dropped all over the room. 

Gwanda’s the first to snap out of it - “How the actual hell did you just do that?!?”- she whisper-yells, as to not signal Amber’s dad, because maybe now really isn’t the time.

“Bro… no tengo ni la más puta idea!” - Amber states unhelpfully.

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” - asked Gwanda as if this wasn’t also Amber’s first time dealing with this. She tries pulling her hand, but the yellow web doesn’t budge! Guess it’s official, it does, in fact, have something to do with the spider. Gwanda gives up, knowing her hand is not unsticking any time soon. She looks back at Amber, staring in silence for a few seconds, then - “Why wouldn’t you just let me tell him? Your dad is a nice dude, man.”

“¡Amber ya llegué!” - Her dad calls out from the other room, interrupting the conversation.

“Ok!”- Amber answers 

“¿Están los amiguitos tuyos?” 

“Sí!” 

“¡Diles que se queden a comer!” 

“Ok!”

The room falls silent again, and for what feels like the fiftieth time today, Amber sighs - “I know that, it’s just… you know how people treat mutates and mutants, people like… me now.”

“But your dad wouldn’t do that, you know that right?” - Gwanda insists. 

“Yeah but… he’s terrible at keeping secrets. What if he slips up at work? Or tells a random barista at a café when ordering? He can’t know, he can’t, not yet at least.

They look at each other, gazing into each other’s eyes, and Gwanda gets it. This isn’t her choice to make, so she won’t. - “Ok.” - she stops before continuing - “Ok, I won’t tell him. But what now?” -

That’s the question, isn’t it? What now. Amber could just choose not to do anything. Accept her powers as part of her but just… not really do anything with them and move on with her life. She could do that, yes, but what if she could do more? She thinks this through, sitting back down on the bed. Amber looks down at her hands, tracing her thumb over the small scar-like bump on the inside of her wrist, where the webs came from. She thinks back on her uncle, on that day, on whoever did that to the school… Wait. 

“Hey” - It’s quiet, barely audible. She’s still looking down, chewing the inside of her lip before looking up.

“Hmm?” - Gwanda looks away from the webs keeping her stuck to the door, she had distracted herself with it, trying to peel it off unsuccessfully. Pete looks up as well, he had also been staring at the webs Gwanda really wanted to get rid of, but not doing anything to help. They look at Amber, who, in turn, looks back at them, staying like that for a bit before finally speaking again.

‘Did they… did anyone find out who kil- destroyed the school?” - She decides not to mention her uncle, it’s not like it was a direct attack on him anyway. 

“No.”- Both Gwanda and Amber turn to look at Pete - “They didn’t. They tried following him but the guy was fast. Ben has some friends at the station, says they last saw the guy running into the sewers, then they lost track of him there. There’s no security footage of him either, so he’s either really good at avoiding cameras, or he erased everything.”- While he speaks, Pietro takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the photo app - “It’s crazy, the only reason people think it might be real is cause some senior took a shitty pic of it and posted it.”- He lands on what he’s looking for and turns his phone around, showing a blurry, off-center, photo of a person with their back turned towards the camera, wearing a dingy lab coat with metal tentacles coming out of it, and that’s all you can tell from the photo. 

“So he’s still out there.”- It’s said as a statement rather than a question. Amber gets this determined look in her eye, like she’s planning something. She opens her mouth to speak and-

“No” - Gwanda immediately shuts her down.

“What? I haven’t even said anything yet!” 

“The answer is no.”

“But I can go after him!” - Amber stands up from her bed abruptly - “I can go after him.” - She says this like it’s a given, like there no other choice here.

“No, see, that’s why I said no, Amber, that’s stupid! Going after him? How would you even- Is there even a plan? You don’t even know where to find the guy. He destroyed the school! Sticky hands won’t save you from that!” - No, Gwanda refuses to go along with this, she already said it but it’s stupid, dangerous even. She can’t just go out there and… they’re not the X-men! Or any other superhero group! Or anything like that at all! However, this won’t stop Amber. 

“Gwanda…” 

“Amber.” 

“No, listen to me! This- we- I, I could do something, I can help people, I can find the guy and let the police deal with him-”

“Then why not just let the police deal with him in the first place?!” - The two argue in a low voice, remembering that Amber’s dad is just a few doors away. Gwanda wishes she could walk closer to Amber and use her hands freely for emphasis, but alas she is still webbed to the doorknob.

“Because we know they wont be able to find him!”

“We don’t know that, Amber.” 

“Yes we do.” 

“No, we don’t. So why risk your life for someone else’s job?” - That quiets Amber, even if just for a bit. Because it’s true, it’s not her job. Gwanda, logically, is in the right.

“Because I have this power.” - And that’s the root of it all, isn’t it? It’s why the argument even started. Because she has these powers and she can do something with them so why wouldn’t she. 

Gwanda doesn’t look convinced, Pietro is though. Honestly, he’s been convinced for a while, it’s why he hasn’t jumped in yet and just chose to observe from his spot in Amber’s desk chair. Gwanda looks up at the ceiling and closes her eyes, breathing deeply for just a moment before looking back down at Amber. She still has that determined look in her eye, and Gwanda knows this argument is going nowhere. There’s no convincing Amber, there’s no changing her mind, not from this. She’s going out there, either with their help or without it. 

“You’re doing this either way.” - It’s not a question.

“Yeah.” 

“I can’t stop you.”

“You can’t.”

“Then you’re going to need a suit” 

“Wha-” Amber’s left dumbfounded, her eyes set on Gwanda. That’s it?

“Oh, fuck yeah!” - Their eyes snap towards Pietro. 

[darkpoisonouslove]

💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it'll have when it's done? - Fallen Love

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV? - CoL trying to have one peaceful breakfast

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP? - Fallen Love

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be? - forgive me for being too lazy to look up the title, but the sequel to the Marion x Griffin AU where they make out in the CT crypt

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for? - may I say the water stars wip 🤭

💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it'll have when it's done?

What is this question? I have absolutely no idea what is happening here but my brain was trying to convince me to add a new chapter to this just today so I refuse to tempt fate. I am just going to say that, ideally, chapter 3 will remain the longest chapter of this fic even when it's completed.

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV?

Bold of you to assume I've gotten anywhere past chapter 1 with this fic. There are at least 10 named characters in it (but probably 12 since I think Erendor and Samara might make appearances). As for PoVs so far only Griffin's is guaranteed. I don't know if it's a good idea to add anyone else's PoV because I feel that if I include more than one of the CoL members, then I'd have to include all of them. But on the other side, I am really enjoying the image of Saladin that I've developed in my head and it would be interesting to explore some of his PoV. Especially since he's the only CoL member whose PoV I haven't written yet. I guess we'll just have to see (if I ever get to writing that).

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP?

I'll have you know that this question was almost the death of me. Every time I'd pick a scene, my brain would be like "But what about this other one?" or "Yeah, but it needs the context from that earlier scene to really hit". This is like picking a favorite child.

With the caveat that I wouldn't talk about certain scenes because they are major spoilers so I could have a more favorite one among those that I refuse to mention, I have to say that my favorite is the scene where Valtor brings Griffin some of her mother's notes that he collected from the Coven's hideouts.

You see, when the Coven killed Emalyn, they stole all her work that they could find in her home before burning it down to the ground. Now Valtor was a major asshole in the previous chapter but don't jump to the conclusion that he's doing this to make it up to Griffin. He's, in fact, continuing to be an even bigger asshole as he only brought her the notes to make a point. Or rather to further prove the point he was making in the previous chapter - aka the reason why Griffin has been depressed and mad at him.

Griffin tries to turn the point on him because if it's true about her, then it's true about him too, which of course, majorly annoys him. When he cannot get her to drop it, he finally reveals that there was a point in time when he considered telling her absolutely everything about himself aka the fact that he was bound to the Ancestral Witches (which she'd already guessed more or less) and the fact that he's not human and his demon form is his original one (which Griffin had no idea about). He was going to trust her with that but when their plan (to get information pertaining to him freeing himself from the Witches) fell through, he decided not to do it. Not because he was disappointed in her as the failure was mostly hers, but because telling her would have come with certain dangers that could have very well resulted in the exact same situation that she forced on him with her betrayal - she may have needed to stay away from him for an extended period of time and he couldn't bear the thought without the benefit of his potential freedom from the Witches.

Griffin is totally floored by this confession but he's not done yet. He also states that he doesn't care about anything she did - whether her failure in that past moment or her betrayal. He's still just as taken with her.

🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be?

The sequel (to Smolder) doesn't have a title yet. I was thinking of sort of making all parts have titles connected with fire but we'll see about that. It doesn't really fit with this answer because I see this fic as pale green. It's a new beginning for both of them (though mostly for Marion) so it's the color of a tiny flower that's just sprouted from the ground - only has a stem and barely any leaves still. Also green to signal that everything between them is going slowly but very well.

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for?

I've never been on Twitter + this is barely a WiP yet so I don't have much in the way of an answer. I guess it would be cancelled for how "problematic" Griffin's choice almost is, for how "selfish" Marion is and for some possible queerbaiting if I add that little detail about Marion and Griffin in the beginning (you know, where they're the only ones that remain together for a while).

[liminalpebble]

Eddie's Education: Chapter 11

Masterlist link

Minors DNI

Chapter 11

The drive from The Hideout was quiet one, with Eddie's free hand reaching for Leia's whenever he didn't need it to steer. Eventually, Leia spoke up, voice raspy from the weeping, reluctant to say what she needed.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm...afraid to go back to my apartment. Sam knows the address. It's where we were going to move in together before....uh...anyway,” she said with a sniff, forcing her voice to sound more normal than she felt. “If you could drop me off literally anywhere else, I'd appreciate it. I'm sorry I ruined your shift and..and...caused so much trouble..and.”

He could hear her voice waver and feel her hand begin to shake again where his fingers grazed hers. He pulled the car over. Eddie couldn't stand not facing her or holding her with both hands when she was so upset. As soon as he parked, she was enveloped in the cool smooth blanket of his leather jacket, head nuzzling against hers.

“Listen to me, Leia. You did nothing wrong. You just fell in love with the wrong person. But you,” he said as he cradled her cheek with his big hand, “you have no idea how much good you really deserve do you?”

She looked away, unable to meet his intense eyes. “I have no idea about anything right now, Eddie, except that I don't want to go home.”

He looked concerned for a moment, asking, “Does he have a key?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head emphatically, “Thank god.”

He nodded too. Thankful to hear she had some safeguard against Sam other than distance. Suddenly a thought hit Eddie out of the blue and his eyes lit up. “You don't have to go home! I have an idea. Trust me?”

She looked at him, baffled, but nodded. “Ye...yeah, of course....what are..?”

“Hold on tight, Princess Leia. I have a plan!” he said with a huge trouble-maker's grin.

------

A little while later they were sitting side by side and cross-legged on the pillows in the back of his van, doors open to give a full view of the drive-in movie they were attending, both sipping milkshakes. She smiled as Eddie shifted to throw one more blanket over her, warding off the chilly night air. Observant man that he was, he was learning that she gets cold so easily.

He chuckled. “Sorry, maybe milkshakes weren't the best plan tonight but these always cheer me up. That drive thru has been there since I was a kid. Same family still owns it, I think.”

She smiled to him and held his hand. “No, Eddie. It's perfect. This is so sweet. I can't thank you enough,” she said, her big kind dark-chocolate eyes drawing him in and melting his heart.

“Hey, don't mention it. You've been through the wringer. You deserve some happiness, and a hell of a lot more than that asshole ever gave you. I'm guessing he had you convinced that you didn't deserve any...slimy little shit,” he declared, swirling the little red straw, trying to get to the last of his dessert at the bottom of the cup.

When he looked over she seemed pensive and timid, eyes glued to her hand as it slowly stirred her shake. He reached his hand out and scooted closer, “Fuck...sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up...rubbing salt in the wound.”

She looked him in the eye. “No! No Eddie it's not that. I love your honesty...your openness. Please never stop being so real...so honest. I've never had that. Just pecking orders and passive-aggression and gaslighting and fear of damnation from people who were supposed to love me. Not...not that I have you...I...I don't know.” She looked away, but Eddie just grinned, thinking, Oh but you do, princess. You have no idea how much you have me.

“Come here,” he said gesturing for her to snuggle against him. He put an arm around her while they watched Casablanca flicker across the screen in its dreamy black and white glory and he held her close. He could feel her begin to slouch into him with more ease as they passed a joint back and forth. He couldn't help watching her sensual sanguine lips as she took a drag then released little tendrils of fragrant smoke with a soothed exhale, a hint of a sigh, shutting her eyes in pleasure. Eddie swallowed hard, imagining that might be her reaction the first time he would touch her as more than a friend; a sound of long-awaited relief, like sinking aching muscles into a hot bath. He would give anything to hear that sigh from her again because of his hands caressing her.

“You know what I want to hear.” he parroted along with the movie in a Humphrey Bogart impression, which drew a little giggle from her half-asleep form. Leia was sinking further down and he scooted so she could lay on her side. Using his thigh for a pillow, she snuggled into him, pressing her cheek to the worn denim as he stroked her hair gently, moving it away from her sweet round cheeks. They'd both seen Casablanca a thousand times, but even if they hadn't, neither of them were paying any attention to the movie.

Even in her drowsy state (or maybe because of the liberty of it) she allowed herself to enjoy his touch, to fantasize. She wished she could crawl just a little farther between his strong thighs, slowly unzipping and releasing him. She longed to hear him sigh gratefully, praising her like a goddess as she'd take the warm length of him into her mouth. Leia could imagine it, though she'd never experienced it that way. Sam liked to hold her head in place, fucking her mouth like she was just an old sock to jack off into. Her throat always hurt the next day, but Leia assumed that was just how all men were, how all men liked it. Eddie would be different. Eddie would be gentle, she knew with certainty. He would cradle her head and stroke her hair reverently, massaging her scalp as she enjoyed the taste of him. These idle thoughts began to make her wet, and she squirmed a little, readjusting. Sweet unassuming Eddie just figured she was uncomfortable from the position she was laying in.

Eddie whispered close to her ear, “Sorry sweetheart, I know this isn't the best spot for a nap. She opened her eyes and stared up into his. His long hair tickled her cheeks as he stared down at her. His deep eyes looked concerned but his lips still carried the twitch of a smile. He licked his lips nervously then said, “I swear I didn't plan it like this, and I'm not trying to get in your pants or something, but my trailer park is across the street. You're welcome to stay at my place tonight...” he could feel himself beginning to ramble, like a boulder picking up momentum as it tumbled downhill, “I...I know it's kind of trashy...you know... living in a trailer, but it's pretty big and new. There's plenty of room so I can give you privacy. I live alone now. Wayne lives with his lady so it'll be quiet. Well, except for me. I'll be on the couch and you still might hear me snoring through the door. It's so fucking loud. Wayne used to call me the freight train, but he snores just as bad...runs in the family I guess...”

Leia raised a single finger and pressed it against his lips. God, they were so soft and full and pink, begging to be kissed, she thought. She ran the pad of her finger over the pillowy flesh, lightly tracing. She couldn't help herself. It took her some time to respond, hypnotized by his mouth and the desires it summoned within her.

“Eddie, that's so nice of you. As long as you don't mind me there. And I'll take the couch. You sleep in your own bed.”

“No way,” he protested, his mop of hair wiggling as he shook his head. It made her giggle as it tickled her and a smile blossomed on her face. Eddie wanted to kiss her so badly it physically ached. It tormented him. He didn't want to take advantage of such a vulnerable time for her, or cause her to lose her job. What if I'm reading it all wrong? I think she likes me, but fuck, what if I made a move and she didn't want it? I could never look her in the eye again. I might just cry in bed for the rest of my life if that happened.

From there his rumination spun around and around; a record playing the same old tune. And it was the same sad song that Leia was playing in her own mind.

I'm not good enough.

“If she can stand it, I can! Play it!”

---

When they reached the front porch of his trailer, he turned to her and said sheepishly, “Can you give me just a minute. I'm gonna tidy up real quick. Wait here. Are you warm enough?”

She chuckled. “Yeah. I'm fine. And you really don't have to.”

“I know...I know, just two seconds, okay?”

And he was off in a flash. She watched surreptitiously through the crack in the door as he whisked piles of laundry into a hamper and loaded the dishwasher all in record time. He bounded back to the door, and she let out a little yip, not expecting the sudden movement. Eddie opened the door with a bow, taking her hand dramatically he said, “Your Highness, welcome to Casa Munson,” as he welcomed her inside.

“My champion, thank you,” she said, matching his dramatic tone. She eyed his private space, hungry to learn about him. There were Iron Maiden and Metallica posters on the wall, along with a beautiful red and black guitar proudly displayed, gleaming and well-maintained. A second-hand kitchen table was strewn with Dungeons and Dragons player's guides, figurines and elaborate varieties of dice. She strolled over to it, saying over her shoulder, “Don't worry. I promise not to touch it,” as she inspected the display.

You can touch anything I got, dollface, Eddie thought.

“This is amazing,” she said, smiling to him in genuine awe. “You're the dungeon master?”

“Yeah,” he answered, beaming with pride. “I still play campaigns with the little shrimps I knew from high school...well...they're obviously not little anymore. In my mind they're still 14, and I still feel like I take care of them.”

“Of course you do,” she said, smiling knowingly. “I'm getting the impression, from how you treat me, that that's just in your nature.”

“Nah. Only for people I really care about. Otherwise I'm a total butthead.” He paused for her to finish laughing. He couldn't bring himself to interrupt the beautiful sound of it. Eventually he asked, “Do you play?”

She shook her head. “No, but I always wanted to learn how. I was just always afraid to ask. I didn't want to get in the way.”

“I could teach you sometime. This group is nothing to be afraid of. They don't bite...well accept for me. I'm the mean and scary one,” he finished, voice dropping conspiratorially.

She came closer. “You can't fool me Munson. I know you have a reputation for that in this town, but deep down, you're a sweet little cupcake.”

He laughed and dug his hands in his pockets, averting his eyes shyly, and stepped back. “Uh...so, let me find you a toothbrush and towels and stuff. I'm guessing you'll want to shower off all the fake blood.”

“Correct,” she admitted. “And..uh...can...can I borrow something to sleep in. I didn't exactly bring anything.”

“Oh right...yeah yeah...just a minute.” Eddie breezed off to his closet, finding a clean pair of boxers and his favorite Motorhead shirt, freshly laundered. His cock twitched thinking of her in his clothes like that. She probably wouldn't even have underwear on under those sleep clothes. She'll be all damp from her shower and smell amazing. She'll be wet and soapy and naked in my shower. Before he knew it, Eddie could feel the bulge forming in his pants and cursed to himself. He waited it out, biding his time as he changed the sheets for her. He didn't like the idea of her sleeping on the same bedding where he jacked off thinking about her and moaning her name night after night.

Frustrated in so many ways, he slammed the ball of old sheets into the hamper, took a breath and begged his cock to calm down as he tidily folded her nightclothes, towel, and washcloth, setting a brand new toothbrush on top. He breezed back out once the evidence of his thoughts had calmed down, plastering a smile back on his face as he hand off the items. He scrambled for a quick but polite escape.

“Well...uh. I'm pretty beat. Mind if I turn in?”

“Oh..uh. No. No of course not. I'll try to be quiet getting ready for bed.”

“Sure sure...”

They stared each other in the eyes for just a moment, both breathing heavily before they stuttered over each other saying “Goodnight” and set about getting ready for bed in separate rooms. Both kicking themselves for not seizing the moment.

@sunflowerdaydreamer

[jinx-jade]

When A mother’s & A father’s world’s collide Chapter 2: Meeting Damian, Marinette’s pov

Marinette is unsure how she came to take care of and raise Damian.

When she had first met him, he was no more than a few months old.

Marinette had been doing her routine, destroying the League of Assassins’ world domination plans when she heard a baby cry. Moving quickly through the shadows, Marinette arrived at the room that seemed to be the source of the crying.

Slowly, Marinette entered the room, cautious of any possible attackers. Once she saw that the only person in the room besides herself was the baby she made her way to the decorative crib. This was too nice of a room for a common assassin’s child, most likely this was a high-ranking member of the league’s heir. She was unsure as to who this child was but figured that was a problem for another time.

 Marinette picked the fussing infant up from their bed, cradling them close to her chest in hopes of calming the baby. It took the child a full thirty minutes to calm down, having finally run out of tears. Despite the little one’s cries no one came to check on them, but then again, this was the League of Assassins, teaching a child that crying won’t get them anywhere isn’t even in the basics due to them believing good assassins will already know this as a natural response to how they are raised. 

Once the baby seemed to have calmed down they looked around a bit before making eye contact with her. Marinette is aware that she has always liked taking care of small children. That’s why she used to babysit when she was a normal civilian. For some reason, this felt different for her. The little one isn’t just some random small infant.

For whatever reason, fate has decided this baby will be someone important to her, the same way she felt Dick was when she met him in a random alleyway.

When the baby caught sight of her eyes they simply stared at them in what she could only describe as awe. At that moment she couldn’t help the soft smile that fell onto her features, her guard falling ever so slightly.

Marinette knows that her eyes are unusual, they’ve been so ever since she was twelve and had taken the mantle of Grand Guardian. The blue of her eyes is too bright and colorful to ever appear normal. Her pupils can shift from large and round like an innocent doe to narrow and sharp like a predator stalking its prey.

When her eyes had first changed to this unnatural form, she couldn’t help but hate them. To her, she looked inhuman, and with her abilities, she might as well be. The only reason Marinette can think of that she’s not classified as inhuman is her mortality. Being able to die like everyone else was the only thing keeping her human.

Marinette couldn’t seem to feel the effects of knowing what she is and hating herself for not having a normal life while she held this little one in her arms. The feeling once again of something she could only compare to her little bluebird.

She looked into the infant’s emerald green eyes, at this exact moment in time, she felt fully human, just like how she feels every time Dick comes to visit her in the temple in the middle of nowhere.

She could only imagine that her eyes must be soft and round, her shades of blue swirling around in a calming effect. Both she and the child stayed like this, silently staring at each other in wonder.

This small moment distracted her till she heard two sets of practically silent steps. If it weren’t for her animal-like hearing she might have been caught.

Marinette continued to hold the baby till they fell asleep, then gently placing them back into their crib before leaving the league’s hideout, fading back into the shadows just before the door of the baby’s room opened. 

Marinette appeared from the shadows in the kitchen of her temple.

“What… How? … you… shadows?” Dick asks, confused by her appearance, making Marinette giggle.

“You have a little bluebird that can send you halfway across the world on a whim, but chose to question Shadow walking?” Marinette asks through her laughter.

“Magic is weird,” Dick claims while shrugging his shoulders, taking a seat on the kitchen counter while snacking on some cookies.

“You know, I was starting to think you never left the temple.”He states.

“Ehh. I mainly leave the temple when underground organizations try to achieve world domination, so I have to interrupt their planning.” Marinette informs him casually.

“What!” Dick stares at her as if she said something strange.

“Happens more than you think.” Marinette states with a shrug.

“Aren’t you a vigilante? I pretty much do the same thing you do but with lesser-known and more dangerous people and groups.” Marinette explains.

“I didn’t know that!” Dick claimed worriedly, making Marinette giggle once again.

“Honestly some of the times I visit organizations are just weird interactions and no actual world or universe threatening thing,” Marinette informs Dick in an attempt to calm him.

“Ok. Then what did you do today.” Dick asked curiously.

“A little bit of both? I stopped an assassination plot to off some world powers. I also calmed down a crying baby.” Marinette says grabbing a cookie for herself.

“You ruined an assassination plot then calmed down a baby?” Dick looked at her strangely once again.

“Yeah. Don’t question it. There was just a baby, maybe a few months old so I picked them up and held them till they stopped crying. I could probably bring the kid here from time to time so they can get some actual attention that’s needed for social bonds to form.” Marinette thought out loud.

“Uhm… I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping.” Dick claims.

“And I’m pretty sure that I kidnap you from your guardians,” Marinette argues.

“... That… is a valid point,” Dick shrugs. “Can we go on a walk through the village?” he asks, jumping off the counter excitedly.

tag list: @eggadoodle @rosalineandrosemary

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

hey so I’m not trying to be gross but this genuinely something that I wonder about like how does mc survive on her period in a mansion full of vampires? Especially with a pure blood like Comte or Leonardo like can’t they sense it? sorry if this is weird I’m just genuinely interested In like pure blood and vampire lore and like what they pick up on especially comte as he’s a fave. I’d love to hear your thoughts as always I love your posts and I hope you’re doing well and staying safe and healthy 💛☺️

Haha, please don’t worry! 😂😂😂 I’ve often wondered about the very same thing, and while I don’t have any canon answers, I can offer the most likely scenario from my understanding of the game. Hope you’re doing well too, lovely, thank you! Stay safe out there~💛💛💛

Given what I know, and the fact that blood is only a small component of the discharge that comes with one’s period, I’d wager it poses a low risk generally speaking. I think the plan would be to make sure everyone’s on guard and has been keeping up with their usual doses of Blanc/Rouge (no waiting until you starve, Jeanne, yes that is a threat) but otherwise everyone proceeds as they normally would. I think it would be hardest on the vamps who are most sensitive to the presence of blood/have a harder time controlling their thirst, like Isaac and Arthur. 

Purebloods have been canonically established as having a much lower tendency to bloodlust by comparison to lesser/turned vampires, so I very much doubt Comte or Leonardo would react much. A blip on the screen for them, nothing more. (I often categorize Jeanne as the closest to pureblood level reactivity because his ability to control the thirst is exceptional; the only time he has ever come close to attacking MC was when he was at a point of intense starvation.) I think the only time her period could potentially become risky is if one of them was starving (and therefore reacting on the level of base instinct) or grievously injured. If they have feelings for her or she’s in a relationship with one of them, it may make them want to bite her more, but I don’t think they’d necessarily act on it. I’d assume most of them would be reluctant because MC is already losing blood as it is? Better to be safe than sorry, and all that.

As for whether or not they can anticipate it, I’m really not sure? It’s possible they might sense hormonal changes, but given I haven’t seen them react to anything so slight I can’t be sure. Purebloods I’d say it’s a coin toss; it’s very possible they can sense it before it comes--but I just have no way of knowing for sure. Lesser vampires, I very much doubt it. 

That being said, you bring up a very timely contention (for me) as of late. Which is to say: what are purebloods capable of sensing? I’ll be elaborating on a recent JPN collection story event that included Comte, as it had a very interesting tidbit that I’d like to share with y’all. It isn’t a huge spoiler as I’ll be focusing on the pureblood lore that was included, but for those who don’t want to see it I’ll be placing it under a cut. (Also some slight spoilers for Comte and Leo’s main story rt).

Mandatory spoiler warning:

So this last event featured MC and her suitor taking care of a child for a few days, in which they act like a pair of surrogate parents. Naturally, being a feral Comte stan, I got his story. In it, both he and MC are taking care of a young girl named Emma--the daughter of a fellow aristocrat (a friend of his). At some point during the story, MC accidentally loses sight of Emma while hanging up the laundry. MC searches the entire mansion but can’t find her anywhere, and she begins to panic when Comte encounters her. Alarmed, he gently asks her what’s wrong and she explains what happened. There’s a brief pause [”...”] and then he says “It’s okay, MC. Emma is–”. Comte then leads her to the gazebo where the little tyke is fast asleep, taking a midday nap in the shade. Naturally MC is relieved to see her safe, but also a little baffled as Comte led her directly to Emma. 

MC: “I’m so glad she’s okay. But…how did you know she’d be here?”

Comte: “Purebloods are good at sensing/detecting nearby human beings.”

And I ????? Granted it’s possible it got translated incorrectly but...I really don’t understand how else he would have known exactly where she was? If MC asked around and searched the entire place and still couldn’t find any trace of her, how would Comte have just known in an instant? Additionally, if he spotted her before he found MC panicking, then I doubt he would have just left her there without an adult/guardian nearby--he would have either stayed there or taken her with him. 

So this makes it plenty plausible that he really did just sense her presence in the vicinity. But........like..........howmst in the fuck. Is that even possible. I have no idea, but I find it a little shocking that I’ve only discovered this now? I mean maybe I missed it somewhere else where this tidbit of lore came up, but as far as I know they don’t discuss it much? The most I remember is Comte giving very clear indications that purebloods were able to sense each other, but I assumed that was restricted to purebloods only...

That being said I’ve been thinking about it and, well, there are at least three pretty strong instances in the game that could affirm his claim in this story. Namely: the beginning of the story itself (Comte’s POV of the prologue), the kidnapping incident in Comte’s main story, and the beginning of Leonardo’s main story.

I remember @a-maidens-dream asking about something very interesting in Comte’s POV story, and at the time I was a little unsure what to do with the information--it wasn’t aligning in a way that made sense. But I think this might help that tidbit fall into place? I think that Comte really hadn’t realized she followed him into the door until she was already in the mansion, and as such this ability to sense humans would explain why he knew she was there before Napoleon even told him anything. If purebloods can sense human people, then he would know a human being entered the house because of the species signature; the only human person living there otherwise was Sebastian. I’m not sure if the sixth sense is acute enough for him to be able to differentiate between human people. (My guess is that it’s not that specific, or if it is, the pureblood has to know the person very well to be sure.)

Building on that, this is a subtle distinction, but it still stood out for me. In his main story route, both MC and a fellow aristocrat (a woman she was friends with) are taken to these small cabin things in the middle of the woods. All Comte, Napoleon, and Jeanne have to go on is the general location of these hideouts. They decide to split up; Comte goes one way, Napoleon and Jeanne go another. I find this instance particularly interesting because Comte’s POV indicates a kind of loss of rational thought--he is 100% in a panic state, just moving to satisfy one objective: save MC before time runs out. This suggests that Comte very much could have been relying on that sense to pinpoint her and her assailants. We have no evidence to believe he was ever a soldier or somebody with extensive experience in tracking--or that knew the landscape well. But he only trusts she’s alive and unharmed for sure when he has her in his arms again, suggesting either that this sixth sense has its limits (in regards to specificity of the person being detected) or that his judgement in that moment was too compromised for it to be clear.

The last one, and perhaps the funniest possibility of the three, lies in the beginning of Leonardo’s main story route. Iirc, Leonardo spends much of that time hauling MC around the mansion to interact and properly situate herself in the mansion’s social dynamic. While this may just be a coincidence, MC notes that she actively tried to hide from him and make herself scarce, but whenever she tried no amount of stealth worked. One can certainly argue he just paid attention or asked other residents about where she was, but I do think it’s worth considering? I need to re-look at the chapters, but I seem to recall her trying to hide in a garden shed and he still found her immediately and just picked her up and walked right back out. 

Tl;dr: So does this mean Comte/Leo can sense when MC is on her period? I have no idea, but at this point I really can’t be sure what abilities they do and don’t have!

[ac3id]

bnha: tomura shigaraki x fem! reader

warnings: suggestive themes

word count. 1k+ 

a/n: based n this req:

i was gonna keep it short but then i went over 1k words so here it is 😽

tagging: @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love​​

navigation

“Hey.” Dabi’s rough voice cuts through the air drawing your attention to him almost immediately. He takes a seat beside you on the bar counter of the league’s dingy hideout. Another voice greets you; this time it’s cheery and girlish. You turn to your right seeing Toga take a seat beside you too. It doesn’t take a genius to know you are trapped. “The mission went well, huh?” Toga asks, eyeing your drink, there was nothing special about it other than the fact it was free. Whenever someone returned after a successful mission, Kurogiri always took it upon himself to make them a free drink in a form of praise. “Yes, it went well.” You replied avoiding eye contact with either of them. You knew what they were doing, they did this often. They liked to corner you and make you do things you didn’t like, they liked teasing you until the point tears were pricking the corner of your eyes. Their reason to torment you was always the same, they were taking a test to see how tough you really. A little different from the rest of the pack of criminals, you were a little timid and soft-hearted. Your meekness often perceived as cowardness of fear made Dabi and Toga think you were not the right fit for the group, maybe your quirk was strong but that was all the pros of having you. They’d repeatedly remind you but you knew better, they bullied you just because. The degenerates were no better than highschool bullies, maybe even worse.

“Good to see you are actually making yourself useful,” Dabi remarks abruptly making you shrink in your seat. You want retort but you have to say, he’s right. The majority of your mission ended badly, you were a new villain with no experience, it was not all your fault. “Oh, forget that!” Toga chirped, pulling you by your shoulder, forcing you to face her. “Do you know Shigaraki Tomura?” she asks. You look at her dumbfounded, not believing her question. “You know, the leader? With hands all over his body? Handsy freak?” Dabi encourages making you scoff. Were they seriously serious? Did they just ask you whether or not you knew your own leader, your employer? Of course, you did!

“Really!? I have never seen you talk to him, you always seemed to avoid him. So, I thought you didn’t know who he was,” she pouts explaining herself, “Are you scared of him or something?” Scared? Of Tomura Shigaraki? Of course, you were. You were terrified of everyone in the league but Tomura stood out the most. With his rude and cold demeanor, he intimidates you. The cold, pale hand which sticks to his face at all times adds to his eerie appearance, his vermillion eyes glowing from underneath it, sending death glares to everyone. A glance towards his direction is enough to tell you he's someone you don't want anything to do with. His quirk, his personality all adds to it. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to anyway, your shyness and fear of rejection would never let you open up to anyone else other than your friends. You don’t answer Dabi’s question, “I will take that as a yes,” he smirks cruelly. You try to retort but before you can say anything, he changes the topic.

“Tell me,” He calls out your name grimly, “are you a pussy?” What? “I don’t understand,” you ask nervously. The perplexed expression which scans your face makes Dabi cringe, he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth before speaking, “It’s a simple question. Are you a pussy? Or you got balls?” You are still confused but get the basic idea, they were here to bother again. You have a bad feeling about this. You know what you should do; give him a reaction he does not want so he can leave alone and stop bothering you but you also know your pride won’t surrender that easily. There is no way you would ever admit to him that you are a weak, pathetic coward. So naturally, you make the wrong decision. “No I am not a pussy,” the word almost feels wrong when you say it out loud. It's not as degrading as when Dabi had said it, the need to drag it down the dirt and toss it back up is missing when you say it and Toga notices as she snickers. Dabi quickly catching on sends you a devious smirk, “Atta, girl!” he pats your head jokingly, you push his hand away annoyed. They liked sending you praises as one would to a kid, you found it revolting but they enjoyed tormenting you. “We have an important job for you,”  toga begins, flashing her taunting canines at you making you shudder. Oh, this was up to no good.

“So here’s the thing,” Dabi begins, “Boss has been kinda’ very annoying recently, if you talked to him you’d understand,” eyebrow twitching at the comment you wonder whether it was necessary. “And it gets hard to work with him so would you mind helping out, ya’ know what I am saying?” You look at him still confused while he just gives you an oblivious look, what was he on about?

“Helping out?” you quote, curiosity ridden in your eyes. Toga snickers before leaning in towards you, her breath fawns over your ear as she whispers a dirty, little secret. “You know, get him all hot and bothered. Help your leader out here,” you almost choke at her words. There was no way in hell you would ever do that! You never even want to stand closer than three feet from your boss, what Toga is asking for is downright atrocious. You push her away from you, creating a safe distance. You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment before you start speaking, “There is NO way I am going anywhere near that man!” you exclaim confidently. Dabi looks disappointed but he’s not given up yet while Toga pouts, “What!? Why not?” she asks and without giving you a chance to speak she continues, “I always catch you staring at him! Do you not like him? I thought you did, so we asked you,” her tone is apologetic but she is not wrong. Often you would find yourself zoning out and staring at your leader. Shigaraki always attracted your eyes. He was like a mystery, there was no wonder you wanted to know more about him. About how he thinks, lives you want to know so much more. Your curiosity about it unfortunately gets pulled out by your fear of him, you can’t imagine staying in the same room as him. Too conscious about his judgemental eyes ghosting your figure and searching for flaws which would make him want to leave you.

“I don’t like him, though.” You finish. At this point, you believe that you have beaten Toga and Dabi at their own game as you watch their faces fall. You feel pride enveloping you for the second time that day knowing that you had the crazy duo speechless. “Okay then,” Dabi still has to say. He throws a  devious smirk, “It’s a dare. I dare you to seduce Tomura Shigaraki.”

You are speechless. “C’mon, you’re not a chicken are you? You do this and I’ll do a dare you give me,” was he really ‘daring’ you to seduce the most dangerous man you have ever met for fun? “I- How would I even do that?” You ask. Your experience in the field of ‘seduction’ was absolutely zero. You couldn’t just walk up to someone and ask them to sleep with you. They have to be mocking you, right? This was a joke- a silly little prank, right? “Aw, c’mon! You don’t even have to go all the way, just kiss him maybe a hand job or something then leave! Shouldn’t be that much of a problem.” Toga spoke sending you puppy dog eyes making you cringe, “You are not going to do it?” Dabi ponders his brow raised, his eyes wait patiently for your answer. You think for a moment if you say no to them; you know for a fact a nasty rumor about you will go around no doubt ruining your reputation and if you say yes..well, you get to kiss your boss and as Dabi promised: you could ‘dare’ him to do anything. Maybe you will make him dance around naked.

“Fine, I will go..” The way their faces light up sends a cold shiver down your spine and your gut kicks in telling you it's a bad idea, but you cannot take your word back now. You reluctantly head into the dark hallway to your leader’s room where he had been locked in since the morning. Probably playing games or making plans for the league, you couldn’t care less. You knock on his door, fidgeting with your fingers while you wait for him to open the door, you didn’t want to barge straight in. It would be very disrespectful to your leader and you’d die before you know it. “He is not going to open the fucking door! Just go in.” You hear Dabi’s faint voice, guess they have been counting your steps. You hesitate a moment before reaching out to the doorknob, you twist it and it unlocks. A nervous sigh leaves your lips as you push the door ajar, stepping into the room and closing it behind you gently, trying your best to not make noise. You find Shigaraki adhered to his devices, his focus is completely planted on the game he plays. The bright screen deceiving shots of violence while he grunts and curses into his earphones. You stand there, next to the door, taking in his entire and it’s a mess. The lights are out, the only source coming from the iridescent screen of Shigaraki’s gameplay. There’s trash everywhere, his bed hasn’t been made. The covers and blanket almost fall off his bed, there are a desk and chair in the room which hasn’t been organized either.

Damn, he really be living like this.

You wait for Shigaraki to notice and you presume he won’t be noticing you until you let him know you are there but you are proved wrong as he glances in your direction, the most astonished expressions falling on his face. Shigaraki sits without father covering his face so you can see his features. Little scars are running everywhere, two significantly larger ones stretching across his left eye and lips. He scans your body head to toe as you shirk back under his heated gaze, “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks and honestly you wonder the same. You don’t answer his question but move forward towards him changing the subject entirely, “Mr. Shigaraki, there’s something I need to tell you…” You stand right in front of him, your knee touching his as he is seated down on his gaming chair holding his control with his pinkies lifted. Your face heats up in embarrassment as you stare down at him with glassy eyes, your heartbeat picks up with him looking back at you with those murderous, red orbs confusion still written all over. You can get that he has picked up the slightest idea about your here as his cheeks pinken the closer you move to him. Your hand slides up his tight slowly, settling close to his crotch making him grunt. You lean down until your face level with his, “Shigaraki…” you utter softly before connecting your lips with his. The action catches him off guard as his pinkies fall on the controller turning it into dust within seconds, but he lets himself get lost in the feeling of your lips squished against him. Honestly, he has no idea what’s gotten into you but he is so glad he’s getting to experience this. Your lips are soft, and warm against his cold and chapped ones. The comfort he feels when your lips mold against him sends him into heaven, it’s a feeling he could use too, a feeling he wants to keep to himself. As you keep him hungrily, he takes the pleasure of running his hands over your body. With his pinkies raised his hands map across your curves, ass, and end upon groping your tits making you gasp into the kiss. Shigaraki takes this as his chance and nips at your lips, drawing a pained moan from you before pushing his tongue into your mouth. You let out choked gasps as his tongue licks away into your mouth greedily, you try to put up a fight but it’s no use. Your leader is much rougher, he kisses you like it's the end of the world. He is almost feral at the way he used your mouth leaving you no place to strength making you submit to him. When he pulls away from the kiss to regain his breath, he wastes no time in throwing you on his dirty bed and climbing over you. You look up at him, his cheeks flushed, eyes dark and clouded with lust, you remind yourself to thank Dabi and Toga later.

[wizardofahz]

High School Reunion

A/N: Midvale is coincidentally set around the time Alex’s 10-year high school reunion would’ve been, so that’s when this is set.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Alex heads down to the beach.

Spending the night in her childhood bed and the emotional release of her conversation with Kara had been nice, but leftover pent up energy is making her restless. A difficult run in the sand should help.

It does at first. It’s been a while since she’s run on a beach. All her energy is spent on reacquainting herself with the lack of solid footing, the way the sand deforms under her feet, how much harder her muscles have to work to extract her feet and carry them forward.

Not long after she falls into a steady rhythm, Alex spots two women walking ahead of her. They’re going in the same direction as her, but she passes them easily.

The monotony of her physical movements allows her mind to wander. Inevitably her thoughts return to Maggie. Actually, no, not Maggie but the coming out journey she had helped along. Alex’s self-realization may have come in National City, but the signs had started here in Midvale.

Vicki hadn’t been her only crush, she’s sure. Over the past year, other memories have come back to Alex, puzzle pieces falling into place with a startling new clarity. Alex wonders how many she’s forgotten. Her mother hadn’t been surprised when Alex came out to her. Maybe she remembers more.

Eventually Alex decides to head back. At this point, she can run half the way and use the last half as a cool down walk.

The two women from before are still walking in the same direction. Alex glances at them, prepared to give a courtesy nod, but recognition stops that plan in its tracks.

It’s Josie.

And Vicki.

Crap.

After Kenny’s death, the friend bubble that had shattered so quickly around Alex hadn’t lasted much longer for Josie.

Except Vicki.

Vicki had been so unfailingly kind to and well-liked by everyone that she had the unique ability to stand up for anyone regardless of social status. And so she did for Kenny, Josie, and Alex.

Until Alex had screwed that up.

Alex hopes they won’t recognize her. She really doesn’t need this reunion now of all times.

No such luck.

“Alex?” Josie says as Alex nears.

Alex skids to a stop, momentum carrying her past Josie and Vicki, so they all have to turn to see one another.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Josie continues.

Feeling more off-kilter than just her sudden stop can explain, Alex says, “I-- Josie, hi. Come to what?”

“The reunion.”

Josie’s words ring a distant bell though Alex doesn’t know how. She doesn’t really keep in touch with anyone from high school, though she sees the occasional update on social media. Maybe her mom mentioned it on a phone call. Either way, Alex has a vague recollection of hearing that her 10-year high school reunion is being held sometime around now. Apparently exactly now.

That also explains Vicki. From a brief moment of weakness when Alex googled her, she knows Vicki hasn’t lived in Midvale since she left for college either.

Vicki alternates between averting her gaze and shooting Alex odd looks. Once upon a time, Alex would’ve known what those looks meant.

“Oh, that’s this weekend?” Alex says. “Umm, I’m actually not here for that, just coincidence really.”

“Well, even if you hadn’t planned on going, since you're here, why don’t you drop by the reunion anyway?" Josie offers. “I’m sure we’ll be well-stocked with booze if nothing else.”

“I’ll think about it,” Alex says, her version of ‘thanks but no thanks.'

Josie seems to understand. “Either way, I’m glad we ran into each other. I wanted to say thank you and I’m sorry. The whole thing with Mr. Bernard...” She grimaces and shudders. “The more time passes, the grosser it feels. Thanks for ending it.”

“Just glad I could help,” Alex says. Maybe if Vicki wasn’t here, she’d ask how Josie is doing. But Vicki is here, which means Alex would very much like to be anywhere else. “I should finish my run before I cool down. See you around?”

Josie nods, looking a little lighter. “See you.”

Alex takes one last glance at Vicki.

The odd expression now looks like jealousy.

... 

Alex watches the waves crash into the rocks below.

As the water recedes, she hears the shuffle of someone approaching.

There are very few people who know about her hideout. It’s not the sort of place people find by chance. The rocky cliff face is sloped but occasionally steep. Getting to her particular little hole in the wall requires knowing that sometimes the best way across is going down then up.

Her father is MIA. Her mom wouldn’t know to come looking for her now. This area is remote enough that Kara typically flies, which only leaves--

Alex sighs.

“I’m not in the mood to fight,” she says.

“Me neither,” comes Vicki’s voice moments before she appears. “I thought you’d be here.”

“Shouldn’t you be with Josie?” Alex wishes she could sound calmer, neutral at least, but her voice comes out reeking of resentment. “Doing... whatever, walking? Something?”

“I’ll see her tonight,” Vicki says evenly, and Alex’s resentment grows. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Vicki tilts her head towards the empty space beside Alex, asking if she can sit. The cave can probably fit three or four people, but given the giant elephant in the room, the prospect of two seems cramped.

Alex nods anyway.

An uncomfortable silence settles between them until Vicki clears her throat.

“I wish I knew what to say sorry for,” Vicki says.

Confusion proves a preferable alternative to discomfort. “Why would you be sorry?” Alex asks.

“You know, when we were kids, I remember hearing a lot about heartbreak,” Vicki says, and Alex’s own heart convulses in her chest. “No one ever told me you could feel it as deeply with friends.”

Friends. Right.

“I missed you, you know?” Vicki continues. “In college and even now, whenever I learn something interesting but super nerdy, I think, ‘Alex would love this.’”

“Ouch?” Alex says--she's a nerd but is she that nerdy--but she knows what Vicki means. When reading feel-good stories on the internet, she often thinks that Vicki would do something like that.

Vicki smiles, a subtle quirk of the mouth. “Watching you with Josie just now... it seemed so easy. I wish I could remember why we fought. If I said something stupid or insensitive... I remember it was after your dad died and then Kenny.”

“What? No!” Alex says immediately. “At least I don’t think so. To be honest, I also have no idea what we were fighting about.” Then because she feels guilty about Vicki’s guilt, she adds, “I did sort of have an epiphany last year about why though.”

“Last year? That’s random.”

“Not really.” Alex's face is burning now. She wishes the cave was bigger, provided at least a facade of an escape. But then again, maybe with an escape, she wouldn’t be bringing herself to having this conversation. “I, umm, I came out last year. I guess I’m coming out again now. To you. But I-- last year I came out for the first time, and it sort of made me think about things, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think I had a crush on you, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Vicki looks stunned, and Alex immediately regrets saying anything. All of her coming out experiences until now had been positive, but now Maggie’s story about her and Elisa is rattling around her head. Alex racks her brains, trying to remember if Vicki said anything in high school that even hinted at homophobia.

An even more panicked thought runs through her head. Alex is pretty sure she’s the stronger of the two of them. If someone is getting pushed out of this cave, it’s not her.

“You know what,” Alex says quickly, desperately retreating from that terrible thought. “We can forget I said anything.”

“No, I… Thanks for sharing. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to,” Vicki says.

Relief floods through Alex’s body. It’s not enough to calm her pounding heart and twisting stomach, but it provides a moment of clarity. She’d been talking a mile a minute and given Vicki less than half a second to respond before she went into panic mode.

“To be honest, I think I’m more surprised that you had a crush on me specifically,” Vicki continues. “You’re such a perfectionist. That you of all people could think that I was worth crushing on... It’s kind of flattering.” She’s quick to clarify, “Not in a weird way!”

Alex laughs, shaky but sincere. “Well if it helps, I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”

Vicki nudges her leg against Alex’s. “My turn to say, ‘Ouch.’”

Silence settles between them again. Alex wishes she could say this one is less awkward than the previous, but they still have ten years of distance between them.

Again, Vicki is the one to break the silence. “So what brings you to Midvale since it’s not the reunion?”

“I’ve been going through--” Alex lets out a weary sigh “--something. I don’t want to talk about it, but Kara thought it’d be a good idea to get away from National City for the weekend.”

Vicki respects Alex’s wishes and pivots. “And how is Kara? Seemed like Supergirl also had it rough for a while.”

Alex thinks she could rival Kara’s super speed with how quickly she turns to Vicki. “What? Why would you--”

“I’ve never said anything to anyone,” Vicki says with her hands up, “but I grew up with you. It’s kind of obvious.”

“No.” Alex sinks her head into her hands. “You can’t know.”

“I think it’s kind of amazing,” Vicki continues, oblivious to the panic once again coursing through Alex’s veins, “you two saving the world together.”

“You don’t understand,” Alex chokes out. “Do you remember Rick Malverne?”

Alex knows she’s breaking confidentiality by saying this, but she needs Vicki to understand the scope of the problem. If Alex missteps, it won’t be a great solution, but J’onn can wipe Vicki too.

Vicki’s brow furrows in thought before saying, “He liked you, right? Used to carry your backpack or something?”

“He also figured out that Kara is Supergirl, so if he knew, and you know, then how many other people in this town know?”

“Okay, uhh, even if other people do, no one is going to--”

“Earlier this year, he kidnapped me.” 

“Oh my God.”

“He wanted his father freed from prison, so he went after me, said that if Kara didn’t break him free, he’d kill me. Nearly did too. But the point is that I can’t do that to Kara again.”

“What about you though? Are you okay?”

Alex looks down at the water below. The tide is rising much like the water in the tank. Alex shakes her head to wash the memories away.

“I’m fine.”

Vicki looks at her skeptically.

“I’m fine enough.”

“Well, if it helps, when I said it’s obvious, I meant to me.”

Alex shakes her head. “He knew because of that day on the beach. You know, when Kara saved that woman and her baby from the car? Our whole class was out there.”

“Yeah, but Rick moved away not long after, right? That’s one of his last memories of Kara, and it left an impression. No, hear me out. Everyone else who was there remembers her as that weird kid they picked on or avoided for years afterward. I’m pretty sure at this point the ‘weird kid Kara’ reputation is not the good kind of weird you’d expect to find in a superhero--no offense to her. It’s obvious to me because I know you, and especially in senior year after everything with Kenny, Sheriff Collins, and Josie, spending time with you meant spending time with Kara. I got to see her for the good kind of special that she is.”

“I don’t know.” Alex rubs her temples. She wishes it was that simple, but she doesn’t think it is.

“You know,” Vicki says playfully, sending off alarm bells in Alex’s head, “one way you can make sure is to come to the reunion tonight.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “I’d rather be kidnapped again.”

“Want me to sleuth around?” Vicki offers. “I may not be a super spy or whatever it is you do, but I’ve got skills.”

“No, we have other ways of dealing with this.” Alex makes a mental note to talk to J’onn. “And I was serious about the ‘you can’t know’ part. At the very least, you’re going to have to sign a lot of confidentiality documents.”

“Fair enough. Do I go to your office or something? Does that mean we’ll get to spend time together again? This has been nice.”

“We have another field office closer to where you live, not that I know where you live,” Alex adds quickly, but to her relief Vicki just laughs. “So, umm, maybe we could do something non-business related sometime?”

“I’d like that.”

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 54

Masterlist

----

Standing at the edge of her camp, Andromache surveys the castle perched at the bottom of a nearby cliff. The castle itself looks unusually small, but its back extends deep into the cliff, hidden from view and protected by tons of stone. Amarantha choose her hideout well. After the Alliance landed their ships on Hybern’s shores a few weeks ago, she took the soldiers remaining under her command as well as the people living on her land and barricaded herself in the fort with them.

For the weeks Andromache’s army has been stationed in front of the castle, glaring over at it has been all she’s been able to do. This, she reflects, is the exact reason she hates sieges. They are tenuous affairs, straining, above all, her patience. Still, as long as they manage to keep Amarantha and her army contained in their hideout, it will leave the rest of the Alliance’s troops free to take Hybern with little resistance.

Andromache tears her gaze away from the castle and looks over at Miryam who is standing next to her, also staring over at the castle, eyes narrowed slightly and fingers flexing and unflexing at her side. She looks like she would love to send the entire cliff crumbling over Amarantha’s head, which is not a particularly reassuring expression from someone who is actually capable of doing just that.

As if following her thoughts, Miryam turns around to Andromache. “I might be able to find a way through the wards,” she says. “I’d have to be careful – Amarantha brough her slaves along and I can’t put them in danger – but I might find a way that only takes out their defences.”

“Thank you for the offer,” Andromache says, “but an attack is not planned. All we need to do is keep Amarantha where she is. As soon as her king surrenders, she will, too.”

Miryam wrinkles her nose. “And she’ll likely be spared,” she says. “Just as everyone else.”

Andromache is not entirely sure what to reply to that. It was always Miryam who pushed for the need to show leniency to surrendering Loyalists, Miryam who convinced the other human Alliance leaders that this is the path with the highest chance of leading to success. Andromache was always amongst those who were more doubtful, angry that the Loyalist leaders would walk away unscathed, but now, Miryam seems intent on reversing their roles.

This is you plan, not mine, Andromache thinks, but doesn’t say it. After all, she knows that Miryam only pushes for this strategy because she firmly believes it is the smartest choice, not out of any actual belief in showing mercy to people like Amarantha.

“You could push for her death to be made a condition for any surrender Hybern will sign,” she says.

“And expose myself as a hypocrite for all the world to see?” Miryam’s tone is bitter, her gaze flickers back to the castle. “What do you think it will look like if I push to punish only the people who harmed me personally?”

Andromache opts to remain silent on that, both because she knows Miryam is right and because she still doesn’t entirely agree. Yes, it would look bad, but how much can one misstep weigh against seven years of running the Alliance with hardly any mistakes at all? Amarantha would certainly deserve death, and as far as Andromache is concerned, the more of these monsters get brought to justice the better.

“If we attack the fort,” Miryam says, “we could avoid any political issues with trying to bring her to justice. And who knows – Maybe if the king sees his most important general defeated, it will push him towards surrender.”

Andromache sighs. “Killing Amarantha won’t undo what she did to Jurian,” she says softly.

It was not a subject she was originally going to bring up. But if Miryam insists on being unreasonable about this, she has no choice.

Miryam presses her lips together. “I’m well aware. It might make me feel better, though. And even if it doesn’t, at least we will have brought a sadistic Loyalist general who more than deserves death regardless of what she did to Jurian to justice.”

“The answer is still no,” Andromache says, even though she would like nothing more than to give in and help hunt Amarantha down. “And I’m sorry, Miryam, but no matter how hard you argue, I won’t have you anywhere near a battlefield with Amarantha on it. Chances of you getting killed would be far too high.”

“I can take Amarantha.”

“Or you’d make a stupid mistake and get yourself killed. You are far too emotionally involved in this. And don’t bother denying it – the fact that we are having this conversation at all proves me right.” Andromache keeps her voice soft but firm. “You are being unreasonable and you know it.”

Miryam looks away, and Andromache feels like a terrible hypocrite. What right does she have to forbid Miryam from going after Amarantha? If anyone harmed Mor, she certainly wouldn’t let anyone stop her from hunting them down. Still, it seems that for today, she is stuck in the ungrateful role of being the voice of reason.

Before she can change her mind, though, Miryam straightens. “You’re right.” Somehow, she managed to chase and traces of anger from her face. “Apologies. Please forget I suggested anything – I have been sleeping too little, and I’m afraid it is messing with my judgement. It won’t happen again.”

“Alright,” Andromache says. Miryam snapping all of her walls back up is far from ideal, but at least it is far less likely to get her killed than the alternative.

Miryam nods. Pushes a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Then we’ll see each other at the council meeting later,” she says.

Andromache inclines her head in agreement and Miryam hurries off with a parting smile, her guards following after her. Andromache remains standing at the camp’s edge for a moment longer, then turns and walks back into the camp.

She doesn’t have anything in particular that needs to be done before the meeting in two hours, she decides to spend the time with her soldiers. She walks around the camp, chatting with the some of the passing soldiers and the camp’s smith. She just finished inspecting the new swords he’s working on when someone wraps their arms around her from behind.

“Hello,” Mor whispers into her hair.

Andromache smiles. Mor lets go of her quickly – she is always careful with how much affection she shows in public – and spins her around to face her.

“Hello,” Andromache says a tad breathlessly. She tugs her hair aside to distract herself from wanting to kiss Mor, which she definitely cannot do in the middle of the camp. She links her arm with Mor’s and starts leading her towards her camp where they will have some privacy. “How is Rhys?”

Mor’s smile dims considerably. “He isn’t doing well,” she says. “The injuries are mostly healed, but… What happened to him hit him hard.”

Andromache squeezes her arm. “I’m sorry,” she says.

Mor shrugs and nods at the same time. “I wish…” Her expression hardens. “I wish I could kill Amarantha for what she did.”

Andromache sighs through her nose. It seems like today is the day of her having to talk people out of killing Amarantha, even though she herself would also like to kill Amarantha. It is very frustrating.

“I just had this conversation with Miryam.”

“And you talked her out of killing her?” Mor sounds incredulous. “Why?”

“Because I believe what happened with Jurian proved to us all how badly it can end when people try too hard to get their revenge. And I don’t want to have to burn either of you two, so it seems I’ll have to be the reasonable one here.” She shrugs. “Besides, if we attack, chances of the humans there being caught in the crossfire are far too high.”

Mor sighs. “Damnit,” she mutters, voice somewhere between joke and seriousness. “Why are you always right?”

Andromache laughs and pulls open the entrance to her tent. “After you,” she says. “I’ve got almost an hour left until the meeting with the council. We could have lunch together if you’d like.”

----

By the time Miryam is back in her rooms in the palace in Sajeo, she has worked her way through a startling number of different emotions. Starting out with anger, she has quickly gone through disappointment, sadness and embarrassment, and is now back at anger, this time at herself for behaving so ridiculously.

“Stupid,” she mutters to herself as she pulls off her leather boots and places them in the corner. “Be any more obvious about the fact that you don’t have your shit together, will you?”

She only realizes she is crying when she feels the wetness on her cheeks. “Shit,” she mutters, voice coming out far too high-pitched. She furiously wipes at her eyes, but that doesn’t do much to stop the tears, so she simply drops down into the nearest armchair and presses her face into her arms.

She doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. During the autumn festival two days ago, everything was just fine, as close to good as it gets these days. She had thought that evening and what Ghost had told her would raise her spirits enough to easily carry her through the next few weeks.

But apparently, her emotions don’t make any sense at all anymore because she barely made it through the surprise-negotiations with Montesere yesterday and didn’t manage to get so much as an hour of sleep last night, nightmares chasing her from her sleep every time she dozed off. Sometimes she dreamt of Jurian – Jurian screaming for her as he lay tied to a torture table, Amarantha laughing, Jurian dead on the ground, Jurian blaming her for not saving him. Sometimes, she was back in the Black Land, a slave again as if she never escaped at all. Sometimes, she has already won the war, but Ravenia is there, laughing at her because she will never get punished, or because her people are dead and she was unable to do anything to save them.

She has no idea where this is coming from. Well, she supposes there are several options. Jurian’s death might be catching up with her. Or this is the worry that comes with being so close to the end of the war, the fear that everything she ever fought for might be snatched away moments before she reached it. Of course, there is also the option that she is finally cracking under the stress. That one would be particularly unpleasant.

At least the tears stopped by now. Miryam even feels marginally better except for the fact that her face is swollen slightly, which is a nightmare since she has a council meeting in two hours. An important meeting, no less, since they will be discussing the threat at Erithia’s border among other things.

Miryam finds a jug of water at her bedside and washes. She kneads oil into her thick curls and applies cosmetics. Once done, she looks at least halfway presentable. Once she changed out of her tunic and into a deep blue dress, she doesn’t think she looks worse than the usual. Tired, but well, they are all tired.

She is just done weaving a blue ribbon through her hair when a light knock sounds at the door and Drakon pokes his head in.

“Ready?” He asks.

One last glance at her reflection in the mirror confirms that she looks well enough for the meeting. “Ready.” Lifting the hem of her dress with one hand, she turns to Drakon. He is wearing blue as well, although it is far lighter than the colour of Miryam’s dress. “You look very handsome,” she says as she links her arm with his.

Drakon smiles. “Thank you. You do, too. I like the ribbon.”

Miryam returns the smile, mood lightening considerably. She squeezes Drakon’s arm and lets the feeling comfort her.

They arrive at Telique later than most, but not yet so late that it would draw unwanted attention. Miryam takes her usual seat next to Andromache, Drakon sitting down on her other side. She has to fight the embarrassment bubbling in her stomach. She really made a fool of herself earlier. It was so stupid. She doesn’t even want to know what Andromache thinks of it, she must consider her truly –

She forces herself to stop that line of thought before it can go any further. Andromache, she reminds herself, is one of her closest friends. You can be foolish with your friends occasionally, there’s no inherent issue with it and she does their relationship a disservice if she acts like Andromache will think less of her for it.

The meeting begins relatively unspectacularly. They spend an hour discussing the updates on the different war fronts and Miryam gives and official report on the negotiations in Montesere. Its rulers, proud to a fault, had been reluctant to admit that they were considering surrendering sooner than most of the other Loyalist countries, but they let it shine through that they would be willing to stay largely neutral for the remainder of the war in exchange for favourable conditions later on. Apparently, they don’t want to be marked cowards for an early surrender, but don’t want to risk punishment for holding out too long either.

Andromache frowns slightly at the report, and Nakia presses her lips into a thin line. Miryam can understand their annoyance – this strategy means that the humans in Montesere will spend a few more months than necessary in slavery. But Montesere will not consider surrender at this point, and save for military action, which might endanger the very people they are trying to save, Miryam sees no way to change their minds.

The council at large agrees that it is best to leave Montesere alone and reach out to them again once a few of the other big Loyalist countries have surrendered so that they will be allowed to save face.

“Alright. Now that this is settled, let’s move on to the next point,” Miryam says. “Drakon and I have noticed a worrying troop movement near Erithia’s northern border. Troops from both the Black Land and Vallahan, as well as some from Rask, are assembling there. Does anyone have intel on what their task might be?”

Silence answers. After a moment, Zeku speaks. “I have no concrete information,” he says, “but given your… history with Ravenia, I’d assume that the target of whatever they are planning will likely be Erithia.”

Miryam nods, trying to ignore the knot that begins to form in her stomach. Ravenia had quarrel with Erithia well before she married Drakon – in fact, she would argue that it was Drakon’s father who started this issue in the first place – but she can’t help but feel that she made it worse with the marriage. Any invasion that might be happening will be at least partially because of her.

“We came to the same conclusion,” she says. “And I think it would be sensible to send some additional troops to Erithia. Even should it not be the target of this attack, that way, we will have enough soldiers in the region to counter whatever Ravenia is planning.”

“I agree with Miryam,” Nakia says. “And we should act quickly so that the soldiers will arrive in time to be of any use.”

Miryam nods. It is the only logical course of action, and certainly not something she expected resistance to. But resistance there is and, just as surprisingly, it comes from one of the lower-ranking Fae rulers, someone who wouldn’t generally speak out against suggestions made by the Alliance leaders.

“Forgive me, Your Highness, Your Majesty,” he says, inclining his head first at Miryam, then at Nakia, “but I am not entirely sure if this is the most prudent course of action.”

He falls silent, apparently waiting for someone to give him permission to continue. Miryam would like nothing better than to let him stew – something is very wrong about this situation – but that might just make it worse. “Go on, then,” she says coolly.

“This is a large percentage of the Black Land’s army, as well as Vallahan’s. Their presence at Erithia’s border leaves both of those countries unprotected and many of their allies short on reinforcements. It might be in our best interest for those armies to remain there for the time being.”

Miryam narrow her eyes at him. Strictly strategically speaking, the plan has merit, but she would bet both of her spellbooks that it wasn’t his idea to suggest this, and that the intention behind it isn’t a good one. He would never have dared without the backing of someone who has more power than he does.

“Only most people don’t assemble an army just to leave it standing where it is,” she says. “Those armies won’t just do us the favour of remaining where they are, they will march on Erithia, and we will need reinforcements to be able to fend them off.”

Silence answers. Then, after a moment, another minor Fae leader speaks up. “If we send soldiers,” he says, “Ravenia might decide to do the smart thing and abandon her quest, which would free those soldiers to return to other war fronts. If we manage to keep them occupied for long enough, if Ravenia still believes she can reach something that way, we might be able to take the rest of the Continent with little resistance and decide the war in half of the time that it would take otherwise.”

A shiver runs down Miryam’s spine. “And how exactly do you intend to keep these armies occupied?” She asks sharply. She looks around the table, but no one seems quite willing to meet her eye. Drakon is looking at her, though, like he is hoping for some explanation or reassurance. Miryam can offer neither.

“This suggestion is ridiculous,” Nakia finally says, voice gruff. Miryam could have hugged her for it. “It should go without saying that purposefully allowing one of our countries to be invaded is not an option and shouldn’t even be considered.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to disagree,” Shey says. “It is a drastic strategy, true, but we have to think of all the lives that might be saved. All the soldiers who might not die if this war ends sooner, the humans we will be able to free more quickly.”

Miryam presses her lips together. That hypocritical, two-faced snake. As if he ever cared about freeing the humans. No, his real intention is quite transparent: This is not an attempt to end the war more quickly, but a direct attack on her. He likely coordinated with the other Fae, asked them to bring the suggestion forth so that it wouldn’t be quite as obvious that this was his doing.

But surely he can’t expect this suggestion to go through. The council might no longer stand behind her as they once did, but they would never allow an entire country to be invaded, its civilians slaughtered. They wouldn’t. And Shey must know. So what is he playing at?

Drakon is still watching her, waiting for her to say something, but she doesn’t know what to do. Without knowing Shey’s strategy, anything she says might end up working against her. Maybe whatever plan Shey actually has relies on her arguing against his stance, maybe whatever trap he is laying will snap shut the moment she voices disagreement with what he said.

“And what about the people this plan will kill?” Drakon asks and Miryam realizes that she waited too long with her decision. “You might not care about them, Emperor, since they are not your people, but I didn’t know that this Alliance left innocents to die.”

Miryam hides her wince. This was far more offensive than anything she might have said, and she doubts that accusing Shey of not caring for innocents will work in their favour, true though it might be. This is on her, though, for not answering herself.

Shey doesn’t jump at the insult. Instead, he merely inclines his head in faked sympathy. “Please take my word on it that no one is considering leaving your people to die, or your country to fend for itself. There’s still enough time to evacuate, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who would be willing to offer resources to help with that.”

Shit. Miryam freezes. She was wrong – Shey wasn’t trying to coax her into some foolish reaction by pushing for unrealistic plans. This is his endgame. He actually does want to destroy Erithia, and by taking the issue of civilian casualties out of the game, he just made the plan a whole lot more realistic.

“And what about their homes?” Drakon asks. He doesn’t entirely manage to hide his desperation. “What about the fields and workshops – are we to starve next year because our entire country has been destroyed?”

“There would, of course, be reparations,” Shey replies evenly. He is playing his part well. By remaining so calm and sympathetic, he makes Drakon look unreasonable and emotional by comparison. “You and your people would receive any means necessary to help rebuild, as well as food enough to last you through the next year.”

Why is he doing this? It makes no sense. This must be an attack at Miryam somehow, but out of everyone in Erithia, she will actually be the one who is least affected. Her emotional connection to the country is not yet that strong, she will only suffer through having to watch its people suffer. All Shey is doing is stripping thousands of innocents of their homes and making them into fugitives for no good reason at all.

And then, she figures it out. Her marrying into royalty scared the Alliance, so now, they are trying to undo it by destroying the country whose leader she became.

It makes a horrifying amount of sense. If Shey’s plan goes through, Erithia will spend the years to come rebuilding and relying on help from the outside. That help might even actually be offered, but what must count to Shey is that it will make it impossible for Miryam to pursue any ambitions of her own after the war.

She needs to stop them. Not for the reasons Shey undoubtedly thinks, but because there is no way she can allow so many people to suffer because of her.

“Still, this goes against some of the very foundations of this Alliance,” she says, voice mercifully calm even though she herself is anything but. “We stand together against any enemies and we certainly don’t leave one country to be destroyed.” She looks around the table. “I realize that this might seem like an easy choice for most of you, but ask yourselves: If it was your country under attack, what would you wish for the Alliance to do? Is this truly a precedent you wish to set?”

A few of the listeners shift uncomfortably in their seats, but most seem unmoved. A few years ago, this argument would have convinced them easily, but now that the war is drawing close it its end, it no longer holds as much weight. There is no real reason for anyone at this table to fear that their country will end up in the situation Erithia is in now anytime soon, so they don’t need to worry about precedents.

Shey doesn’t even bother to reply to her argument. Instead, he only gives her a sympathetic smile and says, “I know that you are personally involved in this situation, Your Highness, so I can sympathize with your stance. But you have to understand that this is the sensible route.”

Miryam stares at him. He completely dismissed her. And not only that – he as good as invalidated any other argument she might have brought forward. To make matters worse, there is nothing she can do to dispute his claim. She can’t deny emotional involvement because she is involved and everyone knows.

“Miryam is right, though,” Andromache says. “And honestly, there might be a time and place to take such risks, but it isn’t now. We are already winning, there is no need to gamble with thousands of lives.”

It’s a lost cause. Miryam only needs to look around the table to see it. A few people seem to be on her side, but nowhere near enough. She turns to Zeku, silently begging him to help her, but he doesn’t even meet her eyes.

“Then let us vote,” Shey says. “That way, we’ll see what the majority thinks.”

Drakon turns to Miryam, eyes wide, but what can she do?  Nothing she can say will change anything, and if she tries to stop the vote, she will just make more people turn against her.

“Alright, then,” she says.

The vote isn’t even close. The other humans stick with Miryam, as do two or three of the Fae, and some abstain, but most support Shey’s plan. This is a nightmare. A complete and utter nightmare.

“But that’s impossible,” Drakon whispers. “We can’t do that.” He shakes his head. “How can you decide this, it isn’t even your country!”

“You are, of course, free to decide what Erithia’s next steps will be, Your Highness,” Shey says. “But the Alliance will not send troops to support you should you choose to fight.” He turns towards the assembled leaders. “I believe it would be best to end the meeting here so that Prince Drakon and Princess Miryam may decide on their next steps in private.”

Miryam would very much like to tell him where he can shove his faked sympathy, but that wouldn’t change anything. Not quite able to muster a polite farewell, she rises and waits for Drakon to do the same before stalking out of the room.

“We can’t do that,” Drakon says as soon as they are outside. His wings are trembling and he has his fingers balled into tight fists. “We can’t.”

Miryam nods. “I know.” The desperation on his face makes her chest constrict painfully. This is her fault, they are only doing this because of her. She messed up, she messed up so badly. And in the meeting, she didn’t even manage to follow any strategy. She just let Shey walk right over her. “I’ll try - ”

Drakon doesn’t appear to hear her. “This isn’t an option,” he says. “We need to find a different way, we can’t do this.”

Miryam reaches for his hands, a feeble attempt to offer comfort. “Alright,” she whispers. “Alright. This will be fine. I’ll fix this.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, she regrets them. What is she thinking, making promises she has no way to keep? She doesn’t have an army large enough to ward off this assault, and she doesn’t have a way to get one. Once, she might have had the political power necessary to convince people to help regardless of what the Alliance wants, but these days, most of the Fae members of the Alliance seem more inclined to work against her than help her. The other humans might help, but most of their armies are stuck in other assignments and even if they weren’t, they likely wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough.

If Miryam could, she would take the words back, but she doesn’t know how. Drakon looks a bit less desperate now, and she feels terrible about giving him hope where there is likely none, but she can’t bring herself to take it away either.

This is her fault. It’s retribution for her mistakes, the Fae punishing her for holding a position she has no right to in their eyes. Only they aren’t punishing her, except maybe by forcing her to watch other suffer for her actions. If anyone gets punished here, it’s Drakon. And his entire country. They are punishing thousands of people who have absolutely nothing to do with this.

She can’t allow this to happen. If it had hit her and only her, she would have accepted it, had prepared to accept it, but this… this goes too far.

“I’ll fix this,” Miryam repeats, this time with more confidence. “Can you wait here? I have to talk to some people.”

Drakon nods, shoulders slumping. If Miryam had to guess, she would say he feels bad for not being able to contribute anything to the solution. She should tell him that this was her fault in the first place and that it is only right that she should fix it, but she can’t bring herself to say the words so she merely squeezes his hands before letting go and walking back into the meeting room.

Everyone else is still there, although they left their seats and are now standing around in small groups, talking in quiet voices. Miryam ignores the looks directed her way, some full of pity, others smug, and walks directly towards Shey.

“Your Excellency,” she says without inclining her head in greeting as she should have. She doesn’t care if he thinks her impolite, being addressed by title is already more than he deserves. “A word.”

Shey inclines his head, expression mildly curious. There is an amused cast around his eyes, though, and it takes all of Miryam’s safe control to keep from gritting her teeth. “As you wish, Your Highness,” Shey says.

Miryam turns around and stalks off towards one of the private meeting chambers without waiting for Shey to follow. She is not exactly keeping to the rules of diplomacy, she knows as much, but in this specific situation, she sees no reason to hide her anger.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this conversation?” Shey asks once they have reached the meeting room. His tone remains politely inquisitive, but now, he definitely seems amused.

Miryam closes the door behind them, then turns to face him. “You are going too far,” she says icily.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

Miryam bites down the reply simmering on her tongue. Takes a deep breath instead. Anger won’t accomplish anything here, it will just make Shey lose whatever respect he has for her and weaken her position further. She needs to keep a cool head and not let him taunt her. She has to fix it, she promised Drakon she would.

The look on his face during their conversation earlier flashes through her mind, and suddenly, the idea of simply extinguishing the blue aura shimmering around Shey seems far more attractive than it did a moment ago. Not helpful. Murdering Shey won’t solve any of her problems, but create a host of new ones instead.

“I think you do know,” she says. “And I would appreciate if we could skip the games and get straight to the point.”

Shey still has that half-smile plastered on his face. “And what would the point be?” He asks lightly.

“I know what you did. I know why you did it. And I want you to fix it.”

Shey’s smile doesn’t waver. “I’m afraid you are mistaken. I did not do anything.”

Miryam ignores him. “What do I have to do to make you fix this?”

Now, she has his attention. She sees it in the slight narrowing of his eyes, in the way his entire posture seems to straighten. “Is this an offer?”

Miryam’s heart is thundering in her chest, everything in her is screaming that this is a bad idea, that she shouldn’t make herself vulnerable like this, but what other course of action is left to her?

“Yes.”

“I see,” Shey says, and then, he says nothing at all for a while. He simply watches Miryam.

She stares back at him, trying hard not to show her nerves. This is the only way, she is sure of it. She doesn’t think that she has the power to sway the council on this, not anymore. She needs Shey. The alternative…

“And interesting offer,” Shey says. “You are aware, of course, that I could ask practically anything?”

Miryam gives a curt nod. She supposes just because Shey asks something, she wouldn’t have to comply and she didn’t really give much thought to what he might ask of her, but now… What if he tells her to jump off the palace’s highest tower? The thought sends ice shooting through her body, she shivers slightly.

“I’ll admit, you surprise me,” Shey says. “I did not think you cared enough about your husband to be this stupid for his sake. Don’t you think this isn’t quite worth it?”

Miryam shakes her head. “I’d explain it to you, but I don’t think you’d care enough to listen. Or understand.” Neither her relationship with Drakon, nor the fact that she would be doing this even if it wasn’t for him. She certainly doesn’t need a personal stake to be opposed to hundreds of thousands of innocents losing their homes, but this is not the type of thing Shey could ever understand.

“I’m almost tempted to take you up on that offer,” Shey says, “if only to see how far you’d be willing to go. But I really have no reason to humiliate you, amusing though it might be. You’ve fared admirably well so far, and I’d rather get this over with everyone’s dignity intact.”

Does he even realize how twisted that logic is, how it disgusts her? Her dignity he may spare, but if she isn’t entirely mistaken, his end goal is still to see her dead. And he doesn’t care at all about the hundreds of thousands of people who are getting caught up in the crossfire.

“Thousands of people,” Miryam says. She doesn’t think he will care – he would never have come up with this plan if he did – but she still has to say it. “You can’t… you can’t just drag thousands of people into this.”

“I believe you were the one who dragged them into this, as you put it,” Shey says. “If it wasn’t for you, none of this would happen.”

The words are a punch to the gut. “I – “ Miryam begins, but Shey cuts her off with a shake of his head.

“There is nothing you can offer to change my mind,” he says. “You’ve already lost, and I have no reason to settle for anything but a full victory.” He smiles slightly. “Go comfort your husband,” he says. “We’ll see each other during the next meeting.”

With that, he turns around and walks out of the room. Miryam stares after him. She realizes, distantly, that she is shaking; she doesn’t know if it’s with fury or despair. How can she face Drakon, face anyone from Erithia? She did this, she brought this about, she…

Her throat tightens and her eyes burn, tears threatening to well up, but she forces them down. Straightens and walks out of the room.

She runs into Zeku as she rounds the first corner. Clearly, he didn’t expect to meet her, nor is he pleased with the fact if his tense body language is anything to go by.

“Miryam,” he says. It’s the first time in months that he doesn’t address her by title, and he looks around to check for any listeners before turning back to her. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, you just need to help.” It is a graceless attempt, but she has no energy left for dancing around the subject.

Zeku adverts his eyes, just as he did during the meeting. When he abstained from the vote and didn’t say a word to back her.

“If it was your country being attacked,” Miryam says, each word sharper than the last, “Drakon wouldn’t hesitate to send help.”

“I know.” Zeku’s voice is heavy with regret, but he shakes his head. “But there is a reason why it’s Drakon’s country getting invaded and not mine, isn’t there?”

Miryam stares back at him, not quite believing what she hears. “You coward,” she says softly.

Zeku doesn’t reply. Miryam shakes her head at him.

“I hope this haunts you,” she says. “I hope you live a long life, and I hope that you will think back on this every day and know that you are a pathetic coward who doesn’t have the spine to stand up for what is right.”

Now, Zeku finally does look at her. Miryam wishes she could take comfort in the shock and pain that is written plainly over his face, but it doesn’t make her feel better at all. Without giving him a chance to reply, she shoulders past him and goes to talk to Drakon.

----

“I hate having to say this,” Sinna says, “but we might need to consider following the council’s decision.”

Her, Miryam and Drakon are sitting together in Drakon’s private study where Miryam just spent the last twenty minutes recounting what went down in the council meeting. Drakon feels like by all accounts, it should have been him telling Sinna, but he didn’t manage to get the words out, so he just ended up sitting curled up in his armchair while Miryam told Sinna what happened.

Sinna took the news surprisingly calmly, but maybe that’s her military training showing. Drakon wishes he was as calm, but he just can’t stop the panic twisting his stomach, can’t control it enough to be able to focus on anything else. He looks around the room they are sitting in and imagines it destroyed, looks out of the window at the city below and can almost see flames licking over buildings, destroying everything in sight.

This is his home. He grew up here, there are a thousand memories tied to this place. Sitting together at dinner with his parents, his sister chasing him through the ballroom, both of them laughing. He is at home here. How can they demand he just give it up?

“But we can’t,” he says, feeling vaguely childish. He jumps to his feet, unable to remain sitting, and leans against the window. “We can’t just give up Erithia.”

He looks over at Miryam, hoping for some support, but she is staring down at her feet.

“We have soldiers of our own,” he says, turning back to Sinna. “And we know the terrain. We should be able to hold the borders.”

Sinna studies the map they’ve placed on the table. “Of course,” she says. “But you have to understand, Drakon, that while we could probably avoid Erithia being entirely overrun, there’s no way we would be able to hold back the enemy. Our borders would fall for sure.”

If they had the council’s backing, none of this would even be a problem. Drakon doesn’t understand why they are doing this. Well, he does understand that this strategy will save lives, but there were other occasions for similar strategies in the past and the council never took them. Why are they doing it now?

“And if we were to fight, how many…” Drakon hesitates for a moment before continuing. “How many would die?”

“It’s hard to estimate,” Sinna says. “A large part of it depends on how the battles go. How much of the country we manage to evacuate before the enemy troops arrive and what the enemy does to the people we haven’t been able to get out in time. Thousands for sure. Tens of thousands, maybe.”

Drakon curses softly. So it’s the choice between Erithia’s land and its people. He can either give up his country, allow it to be pillaged and destroyed, or he can put his people in danger, knowing that many of them would die.

The decision should be easy. He should follow the Alliance’s directive, order an evacuation. They’ll be able to rebuild houses and replant fields, but they can’t resurrect the dead.

But what if the people might want to stay? It’s possible, isn’t it? That they might choose to stay and fight for their homes instead of abandoning them. He would certainly be ready to risk his life if it meant he might save his country, but he can’t expect others to do the same. Certainly can’t ask it of them.

He presses his hands against his face. He can’t decide this. How can he decide this?

“And if we were to evacuate?” he asks.

“We’d retreat towards the Erythrian Sea. That way, we’d be protected by the mountains.” Sinna nods towards the mountain chain that runs through Erithia, parallel to the coast. “The passes would be easy to defend, casualties would be low.”

Drakon nods. He starts drumming around on his leg, trying desperately to calm himself. He looks to Miryam and then away again – he can’t turn to her for this choice. She already begged for Shey’s help in his place, he can’t ask her to take up this responsibility as well.

“Whatever you choose to do,” Sinna adds, “I’m afraid you’ll need to decide today.”

Drakon nods. It is getting difficult to breathe, and he pushes the window open. A cool winds blows in, carrying with it the smell of the forest behind the city. At least the forest would surely remain. Unless Ravenia decides to have it torched. He certainly wouldn’t put it past her.

He desperately wants to cry, but the tears won’t come. He leans his head against the window frame and stares down at the city below.

He can’t make that choice for his people, he doesn’t have the right. But maybe… maybe there’s at least a way for him to let them have part at the decision, in whatever way is possible.

Slowly, he turns back to Miryam and Sinna. “I’ll have a meeting with my ruling council,” he says. “Tell them about the situation, hear their voices. I think… I think it would be right for them to be the ones to decide.”

He doesn’t know if this is a brave choice to make, or a cowardly one. Letting the only representants of the people he knows choose seems like the right thing to do, better than him making a choice alone and forcing everyone else to bear the consequences. Or is this just him hiding behind other people, relying on them to make the difficult choices?

Sinna doesn’t comment on it. She merely nods. “I’ll call a meeting. In an hour, I think.”

The moment Drakon nods, she is out of the room. He doesn’t even get the chance to offer that he can deal with the preparations for the meeting. But maybe this is Sinna’s way of dealing with what happened – to keep herself busy with something, anything, to keep the despair at bay.

“I’m sorry,” Miryam says into the silence that had followed in Sinna’s wake, making Drakon turn around to her. He voice is small, unsteady. “This is my fault.”

Drakon walks over to where she is sitting and crouches down before her. He tries to reach for her hands, but she pulls them away, shaking her head.

“You did everything you could,” he says gently. Surprisingly, comforting Miryam makes him feel better, too. It gives him something to do, a manageable problem to take care of. “It’s not your fault Shey wouldn’t listen.”

Miryam shakes her head. She doesn’t even look him in the eye. “No,” she whispers. “You don’t understand. They are doing it because of me. They are scared of me and so they…” She shakes her head. “I think they are trying to make sure I won’t have an army at my disposal once the war is over. That we will be too busy with rebuilding to even be able to consider a war.”

Drakon doesn’t manage a reply, all he can do is stare in disbelief. Even with his limited understanding of Continental politics, Drakon had considered that option – considered and quickly discarded it. Formal alliances are sacred on the Continent. You don’t get to betray your allies without formally ending the alliance first, and while this probably doesn’t quite count as betrayal, he still assumed…

He can’t believe that the other Fae are putting his country, his people, in danger over a stupid power game. If the Alliance had made this choice in an attempt to end the war as quickly as possible, to save lives and avoid needless suffering, he might have been able to bear it. But this… This is unbearable, if only because it is so unnecessary.

“I made a mistake,” Miryam says. “I should have known this could happen, I should have considered it.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t think. When I suggested we marry, I didn’t think of this possibility. This is my fault.”

Drakon withdraws his hand. “Your fault?” He asks.

Miryam fidgets on her seat but nods. “I’m sorry.”

“So when we married, I had no voice in the matter?” Drakon asks. He knows this was not what she meant to say, but it was certainly the implication, and being annoyed with her over this is stupid, he knows it is, but he can’t help it.

“Of course you did, but…” She shrugs helplessly. “This is my area of expertise.”

“And knowing that, I could not have conferred with my advisors on this?” Drakon presses. “Because if it is your fault alone, it must also mean that the choice was yours alone, and until now, I had assumed we made that choice together.”

Miryam flinches slightly. “I’m sorry,” she says. “That’s not what I meant.”

Drakon sighs. His anger evaporates, leaving him feeling even worse than before. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, too. I know you were trying to be kind, I just…” He shrugs.

He doesn’t even know why it made him angry. It should have been easier to pretend this disaster wasn’t partially a consequence of his actions, to place the blame on someone else. He should have jumped at the opportunity. But there are already too many people who act like he is incapable of making decisions, and it stings even worse when Miryam does it, even if it’s with good intentions.

He is about to tell Miryam as much to get the issue out of the way before it actually turns into a problem, but then, he realizes how stupid it is to discuss stuff like this when his country might be on the brink of destruction. He buries his face in his hands.

“It was a good idea to leave the decision to the council,” Miryam says, startling him into looking up. “I think it is the right thing to do.”

“I don’t know what I want them to decide,” Drakon whispers. “I don’t want to put my people in danger, but I also don’t want us to lose our home.”

“I understand,” Miryam says, then winces. “I mean, not really, of course, I’m not trying to pretend my situation is in any way similar to yours, but…” She shrugs. “I’m sure they will make the right choice.”

Drakon certainly hopes so.

----

Amarantha is pacing in the courtyard. Back and forth, back and forth. Jurian’s vision is rocking with each movement. If he had a stomach, he would surely be sick by now, but as it is, he doesn’t even feel dizzy. He doesn’t feel anything at all.

It has been months. Eighty-nine days, to be exact. Jurian counts them, and with each new sunrise, his hope of rescue flickers and dies bit by bit. Miryam hasn’t come. She hasn’t come and with each day, Jurian finds it harder and harder to think of a reason. In the beginning, he thought she might be still be injured, but an injury likely wouldn’t have kept her out of the field this long. He can think of no reason, none at all, for why she wouldn’t have come yet, or at the very least asked someone else to go in her stead. Knowing her, nothing would have been able to keep her from helping him. And yet she hasn’t come.

Amarantha says that it’s because she doesn’t care. That she is likely glad about what happened to him, that she has already forgotten him and is happy with Drakon. Jurian doesn’t want to believe it, and yet with every day, it becomes harder.

No one is coming for him. Not one of his friends, of the people he fought with, the people he loved, seems to care enough about him to try and rescue him from this nightmare.

Amarantha pauses her pacing so abruptly that Jurian’s eye starts spinning wildly and it takes him a few moments to get control of it again. By the time he does, Amarantha has lifted the hand with the ring – with his eye – up to her face so that he is forced to look at her face. He wishes he could look away, could at least close his eyes, but he is forced to look right back at her.

“I assume you heard, my dear Jurian, that my failure of a king is considering surrender.”

Jurian does the only thing he can do in the situation he’s in: He rolls his eye and hopes that Amarantha will understand the gesture as the insult it’s meant to be.

News that the king of Hybern was considering surrender to the Alliance arrived in the morning, and the temper tantrum Amarantha threw when she heard lasted almost half an hour. Jurian dared to hope for rescue for almost twenty minutes longer than that, right until she spun around to him to snap that should it come to a surrender, she would dump his eye into the middle of an ocean before she handed him over to the Alliance.

The bottom of the ocean, Jurian thinks, might be preferable to being a ring at Amarantha’s finger.

Amarantha goes back to her pacing, this time with Jurian’s eye raised high enough for her to look at while she walks. It also gives him clear view of the bone hanging on a chain at her neck.

“These mortal worms are already whispering of freedom,” Amarantha continues. “They imagine your faithless ex-lover will come free them, or maybe one of those mortal queens.”

Something about her tone unsettles Jurian.

“Freedom.” Amarantha spits the word. “These fools. They seem to forget that there is only one type of freedom their kind will ever be granted.”

By the time Jurian understands what she is saying, she has already turned away from him. Her eyes scan the courtyard, then, she calls one of her commanders over.

No, Jurian thinks. He is only vaguely aware that his eye has started spinning again. No. He wants to scream the world, but he can’t. Can’t move, either. He is helpless to do anything.

“I want every mortal currently in this castle assembled in this courtyard,” Amarantha says. “Every single slave, no matter who the owner.”

“Yes, general,” the commander says. “May I ask for what purpose.”

Amarantha shrugs. “How about a competition for out archers?” She asks. “Whoever manages the most hits will be my guest for dinner this evening.” With a smile, she turns to Jurian. “And you and I will watch from the battlements. We’ll want to have a good view, won’t we?”

----

Tags: @croissantcitysucks @femtopulsed

[jennyeverywhereday]

The Disappearance of Jenny Everywhere

Here is a story written by Lupan Evezan featuring all sorts of characters.

The Disappearance of Jenny Everywhere

Pulling her scarlet overcoat tightly around her, Jenny Anywhere leapt towards her foe. The villain dodged, darting around her, and reached for a weapon - but Anywhere was faster. In an instant, she had grasped her opponent by the collar and thrust her down onto the damp stone floor of the castle.

Her foe struggled, then tried to shift away, only to be pulled back by Anywhere's opposing force. Removing a length of chain from her pocket, the red-clad heroine fastened her to a wall.

"Where... is... she?" Anywhere hissed, staring into the profoundly evil eyes of Jenny Nowhere. "Answer me, or this shift-proof chain stays in place for the rest of eternity."

Nowhere looked confused. "What are you prattling on about, knockoff? I can't speak for my other incarnations, but I haven't

kidnapped any sacrificial maidens in, oh, months now."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Anywhere snarled. "She's gone - all of her - and you're the only shifter twisted enough to pull something like that off. One of you, anyway, and this incarnation works as well as any other for interrogation purposes."

Realisation dawned on Nowhere's face. "Oh, that! Well, of course I've noticed, copycat, but you can't possibly think - look, if I was capable

of something like that, I'd already be ruling this slice of perceivable omnireality. Come now."

"Funny - for some reason, I just don't believe you."

Turning towards the table in the corner of Nowhere's hideout, Anywhere picked up the weapon that her foe had reached for earlier - some sort of aether-bladed dagger. She angled it towards the captive Nowhere.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you - which is why you'd better start talking. Tell me what you've done with her."

"Tsk, tsk." Nowhere clucked. "Would she approve of all of this? I'm impressed, mind - it must have taken you ages to find these chains. But I'm afraid all of your effort has come to naught, because I'm just as baffled as you are. Whether you believe me or not, it's the truth."

Anywhere kept her grip on the dagger - but something in Nowhere's words seemed genuine, beneath the mocking tone. It could be a trick - was almost certainly a trick. But she'd never heard the anti-shifter sound so sincere.

"Fine. Give me a reason to believe you, then. Or - to reiterate - I leave you tied up here. Forever. If you ever want to leave this room again - let alone this universe..."

"A reason?" Nowhere asked. "Fine. Simple: I would never do something like this."

Anywhere snorted incredulously. Nowhere shrugged.

"Yes, I suppose it is a bit hard to reconcile. But it's the truth, completely. I may hate her, yes. I may want to see her destroyed, defeated, foiled at every turn. But wiped completely from the multiverse?" The captive villain blew a strand of hair from her eyes before continuing. "I am Nowhere. What significance can that concept hold without its opposite? What would my purpose be, if she were truly gone? Individual incarnations, certainly - but I would never truly want all of her eradicated. I really wouldn't."

"But she is." "She is." Nowhere acknowledged. She sighed. "And I really, truly don't know why."

Anywhere stared at her captive - something in her eyes, while still evil, seemed genuinely sad. She bit her lip, thinking.

"Fine. I'll believe you. Provisionally." "You'll let me go, then?" Nowhere asked. "Not yet. But I'll be back." Anywhere turned her back to her foe. "And she'll be with me." "I'll hold you to that, wannabe." came Nowhere's voice from behind. "Give her my worst regards." "Count on it." With a flash, Anywhere shifted away.

She rematerialised in a rain-soaked city and sat down on a nearby bench. The local incarnation of Jenny lived nearby, and they would often meet at this corner, guided by the intuition that the other was waiting. She stayed put for many minutes, hoping against hope that she'd show up - but she didn't. Of course she didn't.

Anywhere sighed, resting her head in her hands. There was no denying it. She was gone. Every single one of her, across every reality.

Jenny Everywhere had disappeared. And Anywhere had no idea what the multiverse was going to do without her.

****

Tying her frizzy orange hair into a bun, Laura Drake got to work.

Jenny was gone. Jenny - her best friend. Her only friend, really. Jenny, who had defended her from bullies in grade school, who had helped her secure her current position with one of the world's leading scientific innovators, who had once fought off a demon for her (well, they couldn't all be normal life events - this was Jenny, after all).

Laura still remembered the first time she'd learned about Jenny's powers - how could she forget? That was a memory that would stick with her for the rest of her life, she was sure. She'd walked into her best friend's bedroom just in time to see her vanishing from reality. That had been an interesting discussion.

It had, obviously, been a fairly shocking thing to witness - but she'd gotten more or less used to it eventually, after seeing it happen so many times. Up until the very last shift, which Jenny still hadn't returned from. That had been almost as shocking.

Of course, Jenny had disappeared for long stretches plenty of times in the past. But she'd always let Laura know that she'd be away, without any exceptions. Leaving without a warning, Laura was sure, could only be a sign of something very bad. And she absolutely was not going to let something very bad happen to Jenny.

Stepping back, she admired her handiwork. Not bad for something whipped up so quickly - the fact that she'd used... borrowed technology from work had helped on that front (and if the Altern Corporation didn't like it, tough luck). But looks weren't everything. Would it work? That was the real question. There was only one way to find out.

Taking a deep breath, she connected the power supply. With a crack, reality seemed to stretch before her eyes before snapping back into a bright blue vortex that hung within the frame that she'd created.

So far, so good.

Glancing nervously about her workspace, she donned her protective gear - which she really should have been wearing all along, but it had slipped her mind. Steadying herself, she strode forward.

This is fine. It's all fine. It's all going to go perfectly without a hitch. No chance for accidents here. I'll just be in and out. Find Jenny, come back - nothing to it. Easy as pie.

She stood before the portal. The mental reassurances weren't helping much - this was still undoubtedly very frightening. Jenny had taken her on a few trips to other worlds before, and even that had been nerve racking - but it certainly didn't compare to diving off into the unknown without anyone to guide her.

But Jenny was gone. And she was going to find her.

Taking another breath, she stepped into the crackling rift. ****

With a shout, Jenny Anywhere leapt into the gaping maw of a serpentine abomination. Darting swiftly past the outstretched fangs that dripped with sickly-green venom, she plunged onward towards the back of the throat and landed a pulverising kick to its uvula. The creature retched, then careened into a nearby mountainside as Anywhere jumped out between its teeth and skidded to a stop on the ground below.

The thing unleashed a strangled roar, its snake-eyes locking on to to its pink-haired foe. Anywhere crossed her arms.

"Had enough yet, beast?" she yelled up at it. "Ready to tell me where she is?"

The creature choked again, then spat a drizzle of venom droplets. Anywhere dodged, watching as the spray burned away the undergrowth.

"Well?"

"I have already told you!" the monster hissed, rising painfully from the mountain where it had landed. "That I have no idea where your friend is - and I certainly didn't eat her! Now, don't mistake me - I absolutely would have, had she been through this way. But - and this bit is crucial - I have never so much as laid eyes on her! I promise! Please don't kick me again!"

As Anywhere considered the creature's words, someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned to see her travelling companion, the shifter known as Hakhe. The two had run into each other shortly following Anywhere's interrogation of Nowhere, and had decided to continue their search together.

"While I understand and appreciate the thoroughness and... ruthlessness of this investigation - " Hakhe began, in Thai, "in an infinite multiverse, I think it might be best to limit our interrogations to those who have actually heard of her."

Anywhere crossed her arms. "I know, I know - but we've pretty much exhausted every twisted villain and horrible monster that she's ever told me about, so I just figured..."

Hakhe nodded. "You're right. But maybe this isn't the best way to go about finding her at all. We could be at it for the rest of our lives, at this rate, and still be no closer to finding any answers."

"I guess you're right." Anywhere sighed. "I just don't know what to do. This is all completely wrong. One incarnation might go missing, or even a few hundred - but all of them? Every single incarnation of Jenny Everywhere, in every single universe - all vanishing at once? It just... isn't supposed to happen."

"But it did. As far as either of us can tell, anyway. And to address a possibly-unprecedented problem, I think we're going to need an unprecedented solution. Or something close to that." Hakhe adjusted her red scarf, the garment that she held in common with their missing friend. "And I think I might have an idea."

"Oh? Do tell!" "Did Jenny ever mention something called 'the Infinite' to you?" Hakhe asked. "Oh, yeah - the bridge-reality that only she can shift to. But what does that - ?"

"Well..." Hakhe mused. "She once told me that there are a few incarnations who stay there full-time, to make sure the dimension is functioning properly. And if only she can get in - well, maybe whatever made the rest of her disappear couldn't affect those Jennys."

"Of course! And they might know what happened to the rest of them!" Anywhere exclaimed. "But, er - we can't get in, either."

"Maybe not - but I think I know someone who might be able to."

"Another person? I don't mind working with you, Hakhe, but I'm really not much for teams."

"I know - but this could be our only chance." Hakhe reminded.

"Oh, alright. Let's go, then."

With a nod, Hakhe refracted reality around her and jumped into one of the dispersive universes. Anywhere followed. The serpentine abomination slithered off to get some bed-rest.

****

Laura Drake spiralled through an interminable vortex of space and time, passing through the membranes of the universes. She tumbled past alternate timelines, parallel dimensions, pocket realms - each of them completely Jenny-less. She could sense it.

But Jenny had to be somewhere. She had to.

As Laura fell, she tried to cast her mind out into the muddle of realities - to search for some echo of her friend. Jenny. Jenny Everywhere. The Shifter. Goggles. Scarf. Flower pin in her hair. Come on, come on... where is she?

Laura wasn't sure if she'd be able to leave the vortex even if she did spot a sign of Jenny - and she certainly didn't know how she was going to get home. But that was a worry for later. For now, she just needed to find her.

Scenes from across existence played out before her as she drifted by - a tranquil rainforest, a war-torn dystopia, a world made entirely of swiss cheese.

Come on, multiverse. If you can show me this stuff - show me Jenny. Please.

Something flickered, then changed. And Laura saw her.

She could tell, somehow, that what she was seeing wasn't happening 'live', so to speak. But the scenes had morphed into images of Jenny - of thousands of versions of Jenny, playing out events from prior to her disappearance.

Laura watched in awe as her vanished friend saved reality a hundred times over, vanquished evil again and again, explored countless worlds and embarked upon billions of adventures. There she was, fighting off villains - liberating entire planets - riding a dragon - taming a comet - flying with Amelia Earhart - doing anything and everything imaginable. Across the universes, there was one constant - one person who could defy any limits, who couldn't be held down by any artificially-imposed constrictions. A person who could take on any mission, any story, any challenge that arose. A shifter. The Shifter.

A person that the multiverse absolutely needed to have around. And I can find her, Laura told the multiverse, If you'll just show me how.

There was another flicker. Something buzzed, and then - a portal opened in the vortex-tunnel before her.

Bracing herself, she dove in.

****

On the bridge of the starship Wilson, a blond-haired man in a purple uniform prepared the computers for an unprecedented jump.

"Michael, pardon the interruption - " one of his companions began, raising a finger as the blond-haired man finished hooking an unspeakable number of back-up generators to the main server.

"What is it, Ill? I'm busy."

"Actually, I've been going by 'Lit' recently - er, but that's hardly the point. I just... feel the need to reiterate the point that trying to 'brute-force' reality-shifting like this is liable to destroy the entire ship."

Michael shrugged.

"Yeah, that's why I left the crew over on that moonbase."

"Yes, and I have chosen to remain with you in the hopes of shielding you from a similar fate - but such an intervention would be completely unnecessary if you would - "

"Look, I'm sorry, but Jenny is missing. The synchs aren't telling me where she is - so I'm going to look for myself. The Infinite seems like a good place to check, and I can't get there on my own, so - "

Michael gestured to the mess of equipment that he had connected to the Wilson. The Abstract of Illumination, embodiment of the concept of light, sighed.

"So you've decided to connect yourself, a cache of Jenny's genetic makeup, and a ludicrous amount of power to the ship's computers, make the jump, and hope for the best?"

"Now you're getting it!"

As if to prove the specifics of his scheme, Michael connected a wire to the bulky headset that he had fastened to his forehead. The ship's terminal blinked in seeming confusion at the new input. The Abstract pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

"Have you considered that this might be a trap rigged by Chaos or one of his ilk?"

"Sure I have - but this still seems like our best course of action. Without Jenny - well, without Jenny, all of existence is in Chaos's grasp already. We have to try to find her, no matter what it takes. Flip that switch for me, will you?"

The Abstract reluctantly flipped the indicated switch. Energy coursed into the server, causing it to hiss. Michael prepared for the shift.

"So... coming?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. "Not to late for you to go join the others." "Oh, I'm not worried about myself - it's you who should give this a good mulling-over." "Done! Let's get going, then!" The Abstract rubbed his temples as Michael Wherever initiated the jump.

**** Somewhere in space, a dark force shifted.

It had been watching, lurking, spying on the crew of the Wilson as they made their preparations. It had heard it all - it knew of Jenny's plight.

Besides, it could feel it - the lack of the Shifter. They were connected, in some twisted way - the Shifter and the Fallen One. After all, it was not just one being, not one entity. No, it was the gestalt consciousness of thousands of the many monsters felled by the Shifter - held together by hatred and vengeance and the all-consuming power of Chaos that blanketed this universe. It hadn't had anything to do with the Shifter's disappearance - but it was certainly not averse to taking advantage of the situation. Far from it.

Jenny had destroyed it time and time again, ended a thousand of its lifetimes. Now it was her turn to feel that pain. She was out of the picture - she could no longer defend her allies.

It would pick them off one by one, consume them, and finally, finally have its revenge. Nearly chuckling to itself with a hundred mangled voices, the horrid amalgamation crept into the

proverbial shadows of the universe, ready to strike. ****

"So... let me get this straight: you want me to take you to the Infinite?"

"That's right!" Hakhe confirmed. Anywhere nodded.

"And... you think this is something I can do? Really, I'm asking - I have no idea."

"Well, all of the Jennys can get there, right?" Anywhere said. "And you're - well, you're not quite a Jenny, but you are a clone of her. Same DNA and whatnot. That's more than either of us can say."

Jenny Somewhere nodded.

"Yes, I suppose that's true - but it's not like we're connected or anything. I mean, all of the proper Jennys disappeared, right? But I'm still here. And even if I could get in - well, maybe you don't realise this, but I can't exactly aim. We'd probably end up in some kind of death dimension or something, instead."

"Well, yes, we do know that." Hakhe replied. "But we can, so we thought - maybe we could be your navigators, so to speak?"

"Oh. Well - I guess that might work. But - are you sure she'll be there?" "No... no, we're not." Anywhere admitted. "But it's the only real idea we've had. If - if she isn't

there, I don't know what - "

"Don't worry." Hakhe reassured her. "We'll find her. No matter what, we will find her."

"Well, I'd like to help, if I can." Somewhere told her new companions. "And I suppose it can't hurt to try. Probably. But my living room might not be the best jumping-off point. Let's go to the void

between the universes first - sometimes I have slightly better aim from there, to begin with, since it connects them all."

Somewhere held out her hands. Anywhere took one, Hakhe took the other, and they shifted. ****

They stood in the void, gazing into the surrounding nothingness.

Well, stood wasn't quite the right descriptor. Floated, was more like it.

"Only a short jump from here to the Infinite." Somewhere said. "Er, you know. Hopefully."

"Well, we're off to a good start." Hakhe noted.

"No time to waste - let's shift!" Anywhere put in.

The three shifters clasped hands again, preparing their most difficult reality-jump yet. Anywhere and Hakhe focused intensely. Somewhere summoned her strength.

They shifted.

The void melted away. The universes seemed to part. They fell, tumbling through an endless wormhole. They pushed onward - they glimpsed the Infinite - they touched the boundaries of the bridge-universe...

Then snapped back into the howling void.

"It... didn't work." Anywhere mumbled. Hakhe put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry. We'll figure out some other way to - "

A tremendous rending sound cut her off as, beside them, something tore open in the nothingness. A woman with frizzy orange hair stumbled out.

They stared at her. She stared back. "Wait... Jenny?" she asked. Somewhere shook her head. "Not quite."

"But we are friends of hers!" Anywhere put in. "You're one of the Lauras, right?"

"One of the - ?" Laura shook her head. "No, that's not important. Yes, I'm Laura - you know Jenny, too? Do you know where she is?"

"No - we're looking for her, though." Anywhere replied. "And we think we might be on the right track. Er, how did you get here, by the way? That was some entrance."

"Oh, it was... quite a journey." Laura said, brushing residual ashes off of her protective gloves. "But that's not important, either - the right track to find Jenny, you said?"

"Well, hopefully." Anywhere answered. "We're following the best idea we've had, anyway."

"Well - can I help, then? I'll do anything to get Jenny back."

"Hmm..." Hakhe rubbed her chin. Her eyes lit up. "Actually, yes - I think you could. The three of us couldn't quite enough to make that jump work on our own - but it's my understanding is that the Lauras of the Multiverse tend to have a special connection with the various Jennys, unlike any other. So..."

"So adding her to our, er, biological navigation system here might actually increase our odds!" Anywhere exclaimed. "Great idea!"

Hakhe nodded, then held out a hand to Laura. She took it. "So - what is your plan, then? Where are you trying to go?"

"We'll explain on the way." Anywhere answered. "But I don't think we should waste any more time around here. The roving abominations are starting to look hungry."

The others nodded. Clasping hands, the four companions focused, then shifted with a bang. ****

They hadn't expected the Infinite to be so... infinite.

Physically, yes, they had been fairly sure that it would live up to its name. But it wasn't just the dimensions of the bridge-universe that were endless - it was everything. The very concept of the place seemed to encompass every possible experience, assimilated from every other reality. Standing there, the four world-travellers felt as if they were living a billion billion lives all at once. It was just a fragment of a feeling, of course - an echo of what it must have been like to be Jenny, when she tapped into the network of all of her infinite selves.

Despite everything, it wasn't overwhelming - it was exciting. The sheer possibility of every imaginable adventure seemed to dangle before them.

But they hadn't come for adventure. They had come to find their friend. And the Infinite, in addition to being unimaginably vast - was empty.

"She... she has to be here, right?" Anywhere sputtered. "Right? She has to be! How could... I mean - she has to!"

Anywhere ran off through the Infinite expanse, with Laura tagging closely behind. The others followed.

"Jenny!" Laura called, her words echoing back to her alongside the words of countless others throughout the multiverse. "Jenny?"

She stopped. "I... I don't think she's here." she mumbled. "I don't know why, it's just - it doesn't feel like she is."

Somewhere nodded. "Yeah, I can usually feel some kind of connection when she's nearby. But I'm not really getting anything here, unfortunately."

Anywhere shook her head. "She has to be here. She has to be."

"She's somewhere, even if this isn't the place. We'll keep looking." Laura declared. "I'm not giving up."

"Neither am I." Hakhe said. "But - "

Hakhe stopped, then squinted at a ripple in the distance. As she stared, it opened into a rift. A large space-vessel popped out with a crash, then skidded to a stop before them, its engines fried.

A hatch opened, and a blond man in a spacesuit fell out. A pale person with black hair followed him.

"See!" said the blond man. "See, I told you that would work!"

"If by 'worked', you mean 'blew out all of the ship's mechanisms and probably would have killed you if I hadn't invoked a favor from the Abstract of Life', then..."

"Hey, we're here, aren't we?" As the two new arrivals continued their bickering, Anywhere rushed over to their ship. "Hey! Are you here to find Jenny, too?" "Sure am!" "Do you have a scanner on that thing? Something you can use to see if she's - ?"

"Oh, yeah - we do! Nearly forgot about that." Michael ducked back into the ship as the others waited anxiously outside. "Hey, it still works! Now, let's see..." came Michael's voice. It fell silent again. "Well?" Anywhere called. "...no, I guess she's not here." he replied, before exiting the ship again, looking forlorn. Anywhere was silent for a moment. "...oh." The group of companions took another look around the Infinite. "So... she's really gone, then."

Hakhe placed a hand on Anywhere's shoulder. Michael exchanged a sad glance with the Abstract of Illumination. Laura wiped the tears from her eyes, as Somewhere removed her goggles and gazed at them wistfully. They stood together in the middle of all realities, wondering if they'd ever see their friend again.

****

A dismal fogbank rolled over the small seaside town to which the grieving party had relocated. Ordinarily a peaceful place, it had taken on a gloomy atmosphere this morning - which suited the moods of the six travelling companions well enough.

The town was one of Jenny's oldest haunts, home to some of her oldest friends. It had been the first place different incarnations of her had shown both Laura and Anywhere. It was familiar to all of them, and they had all decided that it was the best place from which to mourn.

They had held out hope that they might happen upon her here, unlikely though it would be. That they might find her at the coffee shop or down by the pier, getting into some kind of scrape. But they hadn't, of course.

So they sat, dejected, on a secluded beach. And they hoped that they might find her eventually.

As waves broke against the shore, the six companions stared out at the sea. There were still places that they could check, of course - but what were the odds of finding her within any reasonable span of time? In an infinite multiverse, they didn't look so good.

The waves continued to roll in - and so did the fog. It seemed to gather around them, growing darker and thicker with every passing second. It blotted out the sun, covering the sand in shadows.

And then it spoke. "companions of jenny everywhere..." it hissed in a thousand broken, sibilant voices. "mourn not

your missing friend. mourn only for your own pitiful lives - for WE have come to take our revenge."

The fog closed in, stitching itself together into a tower of shattered faces. A tendril formed.

"What... is this?" Laura asked.

"Not good. This is not good." Hakhe replied.

The Fallen One lashed out at the six companions, knocking Michael off his feet. A shockwave of pure hatred shoved Somewhere into a sand dune.

"W - what do we do?" Laura breathed.

Hakhe looked up at the thing, scared.

"I don't know. I... I don't know. If Jenny were here..."

"But she isn't." Laura said. "We're... completely on our own. The multiverse is on its own."

Hakhe nodded. The beast drew closer, howling mouths opening along its incorporeal form. Somewhere's scarf was sucked in and turned to grey ash.

Anywhere stared at the monster. Her eyes narrowed. She stood, leaping in front of it. "No!" "No?" Somewhere asked, rubbing sand off of her jacket. "no?" the nightmare-being hissed.

"No." Anywhere confirmed. "We may be on our own - but the multiverse isn't. Jenny may be gone, but we're not. We've all managed to break the rules of reality within the last day or so - I think we can stop this thing from wreaking its havoc. It's what she would want!"

"You're... you're right!" Hakhe shouted. "We're not going everything she's done go to waste!" "I'm certainly not!" Laura added. "Yeah, and besides, it's my duty as a clone!" Somewhere put in. "Er, probably." "Jenny's prepared us for this!" Michael nodded. "I assume!"

"I'll certainly not let such a creature of darkness blot out the light on my watch!" the Abstract of Illumination agreed.

"foolish creatures. total destruction is your only destiny."

The Fallen One rushed towards them in a roiling ball of energy. They rushed right back.

Anywhere leapt into the air, landing a pulverising kick to one of the monster's warped faces. It recoiled, hissing, before spotting Hakhe. Forming a pair of jaws, it leapt towards her - but she dissipated on contact. Behind, the real Hakhe collapsed her dimensional projection and struck the unsuspecting thing in an unguarded eye.

It fell to the ground under the combined force of the blows, only to find itself caught in the searing beam of a handheld weapon.

"I actually forgot that I had this with me." Laura explained, as the creature writhed. "It was supposed to be a gift for Jenny. For making toast quickly."

The beast broke free, rising into the air once more. Somewhere ran towards it, crossed her fingers, and reached into another universe. Pulling, she produced a sword.

"Huh. I was going for some kind of laser gun, but - eh, this is cool."

She dealt the beast another blow, and it shrieked, letting loose another shockwave. As its opponents recovered, Michael appeared behind it in a puff of purple smoke and whacked it with a large plank that he'd found on the shore.

"Teleportation!" he called. "Whaddya think of that, Lit?"

The Abstract of Illumination smiled, then undid the collar that he wore around his neck. His full powers unleashed, he directed a beam of undiluted light towards the creature.

It collapsed again, and all six combatants rushed it. The struggle raged on, kicking up sandstorms and causing the sea to churn. The monster fell, rose, and fell again. It lashed out, screamed, then seemed to fall silent for a final time.

The companions gathered around it. "Is it - ?" Laura began. She was quickly cut off.

"foolish... things..." it hissed. "you have defeated but one form. but WE... are hate. WE... have thousandssss."

The clouds swirled as more twisted forms flowed into the universe, joining the creature on the ground. It rose again, becoming a tentacled hydra.

"We can't give up." Anywhere decared, stumbling forward. The thing snapped its jaws, ready to strike.

Something flickered in the sky above. A flash of red cut through the darkness, and the Fallen One recoiled.

"no... no. it is... impossible!"

The burst of red became a solid form - a human. A scarf flowed behind the figure - a pair of goggles glinted on its forehead.

Jenny Everywhere leapt into the Fallen One. With a final scream, it shrunk away and was gone. The Shifter landed on the beach and dusted off her parka. Everyone stared, disbelieving. She waved. "Oh, hi! Er... what did I miss?"

****

"So, well, what with existing everywhere all the time - sometimes I have to... rejuvenate, you know? Not absolutely every one of me - but enough that you might not be able to find me. Enough of the shifter-network gets worn out, and we automatically zap off to some secret realm beyond time for a week or so. And I... honestly don't know what happens there. Some elements of me are secret even to, well, me! It's extremely rare - only happens, oh, once every few millennia. And, well, these last two decades have been so cosmically chock-full that it turned out to be just about the right time for it! But I'm sorry I wasn't able to warn any of you."

Jenny took another bite of the toast that Laura had whipped up with her heat-ray and looked out at the sunset of the seaside town.

"Aw, it's alright. I know how these things are." Anywhere assured her. "I'm just glad to have you back. We all are!"

The others nodded. Jenny grinned.

"Aw, thanks! And thanks for dealing with that monster, too - it's good to know that if I ever really disappear, I've got a great group of friends to take care of any loose ends out to get me!"

"But please don't disappear again." Laura said with a smile. "We'd miss you too much. Everyone would."

"I second that." Hakhe agreed. Michael and Lit nodded. "Yeah - can't have my ortet disappearing on me!" Somewhere chuckled. Jenny smiled again.

"Don't worry. Whatever happens, one thing's for sure: I'm here to stay. Now... how about a toast?" They each raised a slice of toast. "To the Shifters! And to every story we've had - and will have!"

****

Written by Lupan Evezan

The characters of Jenny Everywhere, Jenny Anywhere, Jenny Somewhere, Laura Drake, and Hakhe are available for use by anyone, with only one condition.This paragraph must be included in any publication involving these characters, in order that others may use these properties as they wish. All rights reversed.

The characters of Michael Wherever, the Abstract of Illumination, and Chaos were created by Benj Christensen and released into the public domain.

All concepts and plot events introduced in this story are hereby declared open-source and may be used in any work provided that a paragraph is included noting their status as open-source concepts.

Happy Twentieth Anniversary to Jenny Everywhere!

[a-mended-pact]

Unsteady Keys: Chapter 9

A/n: Hey everyone. I hope you're all doing well. I'm pretty proud of this chapter. Please let me know what you think.

Warnings: this chapter does contain flashbacks, mentions of slightly toxic relationships. Mentions of Spencer's mom. Panic attacks. If there are anything more to add let me know

Requests are open

Word count : 3,024

It's been a couple of hours since we've gotten to work. I couldn't find Spencer anywhere. I needed to tell him that there was a lead on Lindsey due to Simmons giving Ethan a cognitive interview. I had called him a handful of times and gotten no answer.  Which is weird but with everything that's happened he has every right to have some alone time. I was still trying to call him when I found him in Morgan's old office. I don't know why I checked the cafeteria and the break room first. I felt myself facepalm as I looked around the room. 

He was in a daze and hadn't even noticed my presence until I moved myself into the floor across from him. I leaned against the desk for support as I looked up at him. He glanced at me and then looked away. The hand he was using to prop his head up seemed to tense. 

'You smell like mint and your cologne.' I said it with a small amount of amusement.  I knew he would change. It didn't bother me if anything. I'm surprised he even went to work with the smell of my essence laced into his skin and his breath. He nodded to acknowledge what I had said. 

'Love? Is everything alright?' He looked at me then and held my gaze. 'I know I said I'd talk to Ethan too but I can't seem to bring myself to. Seeing him for longer than a couple of hours has me remembering things with him so intensely.' 

A soft comforting smile formed on my face as I gently grabbed the hand that rested on his knee and squeezed. 'There's a lead on Lindsey.  I was going to leave with the rest of the team to go check it out. If you wanna stay here I can tell Em. Maybe you can get something more from Ethan. Then Matt did. ' I kissed his forehead gently.

Just like that. I left him to his own devices letting him figure everything out for himself.  I was gonna need to tell Em he wasn't coming.

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

I walked into the interrogation room with Ethan and undid his handcuffs immediately.  I didn't like seeing him like an unsub. So until further evidence came about I wasn't going to treat him as such. 

'You look like you've seen a ghost Reid.  What's wrong?' I looked at him as I stood against the wall. 'Did- did you?- ' I found myself stuttering and searching for words. My hands moved about as if I were trying to grasp each word that flew around my mind until it formed a sentence. How do you speak to someone that you haven't spoken to in years? Not in depth anyway. 

'You're a big hot shot Mr. FBI. Married, professor most likely with a couple books published or at least articles and yet you are still just the same man I adored back then.' He spoke with care and love in his voice as he watched my face blanch at what he said.

If it wasn't for the fact he has seen me this way before I would have been far more embarrassed then I was. My mouth was still opening and closing and my hands had finally stopped. 'Did you? Was it you? I- was it you that hurt me? With the blade?' 

I had finally managed to collect my words and form a complete sentence even if it was laced with fear and sorrow. I was terrified he'd say yes. I was even more petrified if he said no. If he hadn't done it then I'd have nothing to hold against him. 

There was no way I could remain upset about something that happened in college and it wouldn't make me seem like an upset child. I hadn't bothered to meet Ethan's eyes. I was honestly too afraid of what he'd see residing in my own. 

I didn't hear him move and I didn't notice how close he got until he spoke. Making me jump and look out of the two way glass. This was a bad idea. I need to get out of here. I feel like the room is shrinking. 

Ethan cupped my face and forced me to look at him. The fact that this was being recorded made me even more nervous. What if the rest of the team found out what happened between us.

I finally met his gaze. I knew my eyes probably reminded him of the first time he ever hurt me. This time had nothing to do with the kiss I walked in on years ago.

'Spencer.' As he spoke his thumb traced my jaw. 'I would never. I could never hurt you.' I laughed bitterly and flinched when his thumb met the side of my lips. 'This was a mistake. I - I need some fresh air'. I quickly rushed out, locking the door behind me. 

I blew out a breath I didn't realize I was holding within my lungs as I felt my breathing start to quicken. I made my way to the roof of the building that no one really used. I slid down the door as I made it fully outside.  

I watched as the sun began to set. The sky turned different colors until emerging me in full darkness besides for the buildings lights I closed my eyes. Why do I feel like a young adult all over again? Why am I letting him get under my skin? The worst part was that he isn't even trying to make me feel like this.

One minute I was on the rooftop the next I was in the band room of our college laying on the ground with my head resting on Ethan's jacket as he played the piano.

'I could fall asleep to the sound of you playing. You know.' I said as each key played from his fingertips. His cologne was all over me because we may or may not have been making out on the floor before I scolded him that he needed to practice. He had a big concert event coming up. 

'I could think of better things to do in here than you falling asleep.' His voice was teasing, making me blush.  It had only been a few weeks since our first actual time together and in all honesty it made me nervous just thinking about it. Ethan seemed to want to sleep together constantly.  Which is fine. I loved having sex with him but sex was never something I thought I'd experience so I'd much rather be reading or learning something new.

Just the other day we got into an argument because I turned him down. 

I was sitting in a lecture with the man that created the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The BAU for short. At the time, I didn't want to get laid. I wanted to learn more about how learning to understand a serial killer could help catch them. I was deeply intrigued and asked many questions as the lecture hall went on.

'You know you did ditch me for some cop I don't see why now would be a bad time to make up for it?

'A federal Agent is hardly a cop and if you can't remember his job at least remember his name. Jason Gideon.'

Ethan scoffed in small annoyance as he continued to play. Only this time the sound of the piano sounded like chase music. I felt like it should play in Tom and Jerry. 

'You can't seriously be upset with me about that?' I said trying to sound calm and collected in reality I was upset. I originally went to college to learn all the things needed to be someone that taught others. I had been debating on changing my career path for sometime now and I think I finally found it. 

'I think I wanna try to join the BAU. Gideon already told me with how interested I was in the lecture and with how smart I am. I'd make a great addition to the team.'

He smashed his fingers on the piano and groaned. 'Reid we already planned our future together. Do you really wanna give that up to join the FBI?' The way he looked at me was as if I had broken his heart. It's not that I had forgotten our plans after college. The only problem was that I used to be able to see that future and now I couldn't. 

Since the class with Gideon and all the research I've done. Working for the FBI just made sense. It would cover everything for my mother's doctor's and Care facility. Plus being able to keep a great roof over my head and food in my belly. I suppose to Ethan not living life on the edge was boring.

I shook my head to escape the memory.  Out of all the ones to have right now, why did that one resurface? My head fell in my hands as I combed my hair out of my face. My phone went off with a text from Y/n. 

'Hey, so we found her abandoned hideout but it looks like she hasn't been here in a bit. I don't know if you've gone to see him or not but I figured you could maybe get more info? If you're feeling up to it of course. Otherwise he made a bond with Matt. He can try again when we get back.'

I sighed. I wasn't in the mood to see him again. I thought I could separate my feelings towards him from this case and I know I'm not doing it. Perhaps I should step back from this case. I should talk to Emily. I know I'd still have to deal with Cat ever so often but otherwise she was my wife's problem now. I slipped my phone back in my pocket and closed my eyes. Everything just seemed like too much right now. 

'Seriously we are not doing this right now Ethan?' I was putting back on my clothes.  Situating my hair as well. 'You are not going to make me late. I refuse to miss seeing my mother again because you can't not want to sleep with me when we are alone.'

I walked around him as I grabbed my bag to take with me to go see my mom. It held some overnight clothes. I had missed the last time they were going to allow me to stay. All because I gave in to Ethan's advances to make him happy. I loved him and when we weren't bickering things were fabulous. After a year of it though it's exhausting. 

He caught me by my hips and pulled me to him. I swatted his hands away. He may not have wanted anything from me but a proper goodbye but I didn't want to give him the chance. I had already prepared myself mentally for the arguing that was gonna come from me turning him down. Me leaving him alone for long periods of time made me nervous.  

He'd never done anything to make me anxious about leaving him. He'd only go to bars and play and have a couple of drinks with other musicians.  I had accompanied him plenty of times. Nothing ever happened besides musicians talking about anything and everything underneath the shitty neon lights of the bar.

'Tell your mom I said hi and that I hope she's doing well. Also tell her I'm sorry I kept you away last time. I don't know what came over me. ' He cupped my face and went to kiss me but I turned my head slightly.  Again. I'm not taking any chances. I'd happily lose anyone or anything as long as I still had my mom.  He ended up kissing my cheek. 

A sigh escaped him as he let me go. 'I'll see you when you get back. Yeah?' I nodded and smiled at him as I headed toward the door.

'Wait, Reid. I'll be going out tonight to play. I'll message you when I arrive and when I leave. I know how you worry. Tell me when you make it to your mom's.  I love you. ' I smiled as I ran off to see my mom.

A groan escaped me. Why? I'm so sick of these memories coming up. I looked around the roof and let out another sigh. I really need to let what happens next go. Yet before I could stop my brain it quickly wraps me and surrounds me in the memory and as it unfolds like a movie before my very eyes. I kept my vision from blurring from the unleashed tears. 

Time with my mom had gone by well from when I got there until now.  She started having a violent episode one that if I had stayed would have ended in her calling me crash again.  I'd never tell her she'd hit me. I just wanted comfort. So I came home early. Well to a place Ethan and I were renting together. I hadn't told him I was on my way home.  So when I came home to an empty place I wasn't surprised. I quickly dropped off my things and ran to where I figured he'd be.  The bar with his friends. It was rare anyone would be there right now actually drinking; they should just be setting their instruments.

Only when I came in I found Ethan behind stage with a girl's tongue shoved down his throat. There clothes slightly askew He pushed her away when he realized I was there. 'Spencer this isn't what It looks like!' 

I just stood there frozen. I couldn't form a word, I could barely comprehend what I saw.  When he stepped towards me. I turned away and just walked away. I felt like my heart had just been stomped into the ground after being clawed at unintentionally by my mother. I was broken. 

That night I got multiple calls and texts from Ethan. I ignored them all. I ended up sleeping on a campus bench. Comfy truly.  

I never fully spoke to Ethan after that day.  Things with my mom got chaotic and I didn't have the time to focus on anything but getting my PhD and taking care of my mom. As long as I was busy I couldn't blame myself that I was too afraid to face Ethan.  He broke my heart and I didn't even give him the opportunity to even try to explain himself.

That was ages ago though so why am I still thinking about it. Why won't my brain just shut up. I need to get back Inside. Maybe the team is back by now. 

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

Having to find Spencer recently was starting to become a habit. I looked everywhere for him everywhere besides outside. I finally found him walking in from the stairway that led to the roof.

'Hey.' I gave him a small wave and what I hoped was a reassuring smile. This case was getting to him for obvious reasons. He honestly hasn't looked this distraught since after he came back from prison. 

His eyes widened slightly. 'Good you're all back already then?' I nodded. My eyes didn't want to leave him. I knew something had happened. I just didn't know what. Pushing him was never something I had done and I wasn't gonna start now. Maybe I'll just bring it up a little to see if he decides to tell me. If not then it can wait until he sorts out his mind.

'So we didn't find Lindsey.  We did find a couple of things though. Photos of you in Mexico. Photos of you even in the prison yard. Among others of max and you and us together.  Lindsey appears to be stalking us. Maybe it was something Cat asked her to do.  Or maybe Ethan was the one taking some of the photos.' I looked away and was staring at my hands as my brain started putting small pieces together. Theories really.

Spencer grabbed my hand gently and brought it up so I'd follow it with my eyes. 'I am actually debating on taking a step back from this case. I was gonna tell Emily and see what she thought.' The smile he gave me didn't reach his eyes. 

'Let's be honest it's probably for the best that I do. I know too much and I am far too involved, especially with Cat and Ethan both being a part of this. It's just more than I think I can handle. I could be wrong. Maybe I just need a day to breathe. I'll have to figure that out though.'

He placed my hand on his face and all I could do was rub my thumb across his jaw. I let out a small laugh suddenly. Which surprised him. 'I'm sorry it's not funny! I just kept thinking that If I pushed hard enough on your jawline would it cut me?' It was a terrible time for me to not be able to keep things to myself.  He needed me serious, right?

A laugh bellowed out of him and I could see some of the stress and pain he was carrying with him lift a little. I myself smiled too when he pulled me into his chest. 'Oh how I love you and your random thoughts.' He moved his hand to cup my cheek and leaned in as if he were gonna kiss me. 

One of our arrangements when we started dating was no PDA in the workplace if any, keep it always at a minimum. With what he was doing it was making me question if he was about to break that small rule. Not that I minded if he did or not though. 

He stroked my cheek and smiled at me as he pecked the tip of my nose and walked away.

I couldn't help but scrunch up my nose the way a bunny would. It tickled. A smile formed on my face as I watched him leave.

Taglist:

@sassymoon @rainsong01 @onlyhereforthefanfics @itsdars @dreatine

[kaemulti]

DC SUPERHERO GIRLS HEADCANNONS

i’m gonna start writing headcannons whenever i get sad/anxious for a number of different fandoms. it takes my mind off things, even if only for a little bit. this time it’s gonna be about dcshg 2019. i’m honestly obsessed with thinking about the mundane teenager things we don’t see in the show that all the superhero/villian kids go through so i wanted to write some stuff about that.

•karen is actually more popular than she realizes, people think she’s sweet even though they rarely see her/don’t have classes with her

•leslie and dorris are a thing to everyone BUT themselves; they hilariously don’t even realize they’ve basically been dating for years: carpooling together, hanging out before and after school, bullying kids like a tag team, skipping classes together, movie nights, shorting out the exercise machines at the mall to make that misogynistic jerk at the fitness store scared, buying their favorite snacks for each other without thinking much of it, etc.

•barbi not only hates diana with a burning passion but ALSO tatsu because both girls excel in both their academic and physical education classes, unintentionally surpassing barbie by a long shot whenever the opportunity presents itself

•jessica and hal hang out at sweet justice after their week day training classes and even invite barry when he has the day off

•kara is completely oblivious to the fact there are a bunch of girls crushing on her at school, she keeps wondering why they whisper about her and never make direct eye contact with her as she walks through the hallways. she only finds out what is actually going on when she opens her locker on valentine’s day and gets COVERED in cards. she doesn’t tell most of her friends about it (she knows they’ll just be annoying) but she does vaguely ask jess about how to write people back, turning them down nicely and whatnot, she’s not a monster for gods sake, she’s just not ready for a relationship.

•babs and diana like to study together the most even though barbra never really pays attention, she mostly talks about different batman articles and comics she read and new gadgets she’s created but diana doesn’t mind TOO much because she has an growing interest in modern day ‘world of man’ technology

•diana can NOT sing to save her life. the girls thought that having a karaoke night would be fun sure, but nothing would’ve prepared them for the laughing fits they had when diana started screeching into the mic. They also find out that Babs is always off pitch and Jessica refuses to sing in front of people. alternatively, however, zee, kara and karen (in that order) are the best singers in the group.

•zee keeps inviting kara to these crazy expensive-super long wait list restaurants even though she knows kara probably won’t eat any of the food. she doesn’t really know why she keeps doing it, especially after the whole giant tentacle incident, but she does know she enjoys kara’s funny comments and cute laugh enough to continue.

•when selina first saw diana she might of had a tiny sexuality crisis, no she won’t elaborate.

•tatsu helps garth work on his confidence and he helps her with her HUGE slight fear of open water. even though they don’t know the other is super, they still help each other as much as they can. tatsu will train garth to do some basic defense techniques against bullies and they’ll go swimming every other week, garth always making sure to keep as much water as he can away from tatsu’s eyes and nose.

•kara and barry like to race each other whenever they get a chance to go to the pier. kara always cheats so she never loses but barry doesn’t mind because he’s her friend and it makes them laugh.

•steve is actually really good at embroidery, his mom taught him when he was younger. he once made a wonder woman shirt for diana and when he gave it to her, she fainted.....twice.

•pam is allergic to three different types of flowers but she still nurtures them in her garden at home whenever she can. if her allergies get really bad though, she’ll ask jess to help her water them, ONLY because she needs to keep her precious flowers alive, NOT because she is actually jess’ friend...she thinks.

•the first time carol met barbie they both got into detention for loudly insulting each other’s fashion sense in the middle of math class. (they still haven’t apologized to each other so they keep acting like it didn’t happen because they both think they’re right)

•the first time harleen called pam “green bean”, pam blushed and giggled...like FULL blown diana talking to steve giggle. and then she pushed harleen off a bridge with a vine on accident. harleen thought it was the funniest thing ever and pam could only awkwardly apologize for almost killing her teammate

•oliver and zee tried to co-write a christmas play but they were so busy fighting each other on who had a better ending they didn’t actually order any props or costumes for it. leaving the main actress to perform in a pirate outfit.

•kara still hangs out with bizarro super girl every now and again and they take turns ranting about their idiot cousins, it’s all light hearted because kara still has some emotional stuff to work through.

•diana unintentionally starts a “who will come out next” contest when she asks the girls about same sex attraction. she had seen leslie and dorris making out in one of the locker rooms (yes they FINALLY got together together) and asked her friends what it meant. after a lot of confusion as kara stumbled over her explanation of the lgbtq+ community, she ends up coming out as a lesbian first, followed by babs, who is bisexual, karen, who is questioning but absolutely had a crush on kara before their food fight detention day, and zee who is trans. they end up going to metropolis pride two months after that.

•diana is still convinced there is an oracle at the pier so every other sunday the girls go so she can spend all of her money on “knowing the future”

•babs never really gets angry on the daily and the rest of the girls learn why when some jerk at sweet justice insults jess’ looks because she wouldn’t go out with him. barbra turned bright red as she let him have it, words coming out of her mouth faster than barry can make their ice cream (they didn’t think she had it in her). and if he he ended up glued to his bed the next day, well, jess will let batgirl get away with that one JUST this once. barbra will NEVER not stick up for her friends.

•kara and babs often have multiple sleepovers a week, harleen even joins them sometimes when kara doesn’t mind her LOUD presence.

•the girls never get mad at one another when someone breaks down or blows up after holding certain feelings in for too long. whether it’s kara ghosting them for days leading up to her mom’s birthday, diana overworking herself to the point of exhaustion when she gets homesick, karen refusing to go out to anywhere except for school and tough missions for weeks at a time because she thinks she doesn’t matter, zee reading too many spells at once and giving herself an awful migraine after messing up an easy one, jessica isolating herself at lunch so she can sit in the library alone and cry to herself quietly after a hard day of training, or babs not being her normal happy self after having a heated argument with harleen, there will ALWAYS be a shoulder to cry on when someone needs it. If that comes in the form a knock on kara’s door as her friends invite themselves in with her favorite foods and a mega ‘feel better soon’ music playlist in tow, an impromptu destress retreat that they force diana to go on where she is only allowed to use a weapon if there is a direct threat, making a giant list of all the things they love about karen and reading it to her from outside her window, someone closing zee’s spell book and holding her tightly as her eyes turn back to normal from flaring pink with anger, all the girls quietly sitting with jessica one by one in the library and gently holding her hand as she lets out what she can, or buying limited edition comics and leaving them as presents for babs in her section of the hideout, there is ALWAYS someone there to make it hurt a little less.

the end :))

[6ftslytherin]

🌹

🍄

🍁 please?

Sabine

🌹 Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?

Sabine's home is and will always be Lowell Manor. She was born and raised there. She can't imagine calling somewhere else home. Sabine feels comfortable with Merula too. She wants to ask her to move in when they graduate but she hasn't found the right words yet.

🍄 What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

Sabine likes meat, so stuff like jerky, meat buns, and salami on crackers. Her comfort food is her grandma's coq au vin. After Merula learned to make it she's been divided on who's soup is her favorite. She also enjoys the occasional sweet like jam doughnuts and pudding. Sabine is indifferent about cooking (despite being half French,) she just sees it as a way to get food. She is not aloud to help in anyone's kitchen. It's not that she's a bad cook, it's just that she's a force of chaos when she tries to make something. That's why any detention she gets keeps her our of the kitchen.

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Sabine has a spot on the Lowell Manor grounds. It's right under a tree next to a pond that makes a great skating rink in the winter. When she's at school there's a spot out by the Black Lake that she's turned into a hideout.

Marie

🌹 Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?

Marie's home is the Lowell Manor. She spent two years in a hospital being sick and poked with needles, so anywhere other than there is an improvement. She understands that one day she might leave, but if it's with Ismelda then anywhere can be home.

🍄 What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

Much like Sabine she loves meat (not as much but still.) Her working theory is that their succubus blood makes them enjoy primal things (ie. rare meat,) more. Her grandpa Dave hunts regularly and makes his own deer jerky (Marie helps.) Thanks to grandpa Dave taking Marie into the forest with him she also learned how to forage for mushrooms. As Jewish people tend to do her grandma Annie would bread and deep fry those mushrooms, another favorite. Her favorite will always be her dad's blueberry jam kurabiye. She's also a fan of butterfly tea.

Maire doesn't mind cooking. She's actually quite good. As an adult she tends to do most of the cooking. Especially when Ismelda is hard at work in her office.

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Following the behavior of many species of birds, Marie has a habit of nesting. She finds an enclosed space or closet, uses pillows and blankets to make it comfy, and will proceed to read or nap in her nest. At school she isn't able to do this as often but she has a nice spot she set up in a corner of Ravenclaw tower. At home she has a spot in the Lowell Manor's library. It has plenty of natural light is just big enough that at least two people can fit in without feeling cramped. Perfect for lazy summer days snuggled next to Ismelda.

[the-golden-ghost]

If you're still doing the prompts, "Call Me" for Lupin and Jigen :)

The call came in late. Lupin wasn’t expecting it, since it wasn’t like Jigen to leave his post during a stakeout, but he answered just the same. “Boss, it’s me,” Jigen’s voice on the other end of the line was steady as usual, but he sounded uneasy. “Are you sure you want to go through with this one?”

“Are you saying you want to give up?” Lupin scoffed. “We haven’t even gotten started yet!”

“I’m saying there’s something off about this place,” there was a pause on the other end. “I think they’re on to us.”

“Did you see something?”

“No, I... that’s part of the problem actually. It’s just too damn still. I don’t like it.”

“Well, tell me when you do see something. Otherwise I’ll be there in four hours like we planned.” As he hung up, a seed of doubt flickered into Lupin’s mind, one that he quickly pushed away. Please, they’d been through hard jobs before, and they always got out okay! Jigen could take care of himself.

Lupin would prepare for trouble, sure, but in less than six hours, that beautiful statue would be sitting in his trophy room, and who’d be worrying then?

~

Less than six hours later, Lupin stormed back into the hideout, tired, annoyed, and bruised, with his car stolen and his friends apparently AWOL. “Where the fuck WERE you guys?” he shouted into the house. “I thought we were in this together!”

No one answered, which was... troubling. “Guys? Jigen? Goemon? Fujiko?”

Nothing. Where would they have gone? Did they bail on the job without mentioning it to him? Maybe they just all decided his plan wasn’t worth it. Oh, sure! Maybe they didn’t want the statue because Lupin wasn’t going to sell it and there wouldn’t be any money it for them. What two-faced bastards. Fuming, Lupin went to shower, ignoring the phone when it rang. If they’d all ditched him they could wait twenty minutes for an answer.

The phone rang twice while Lupin was showering and then again once he was out, when he finally decided to pick up. “Hello?”

“Why don’t you answer your phone?” The voice on the other end was hostile. It was Goemon.

“Why don’t you show up at the place I asked you to be at when I asked you to be there?” Lupin snapped back. “You know the job failed, right?”

“That is not my concern any longer. Where are you?”

“I’m at the hideout, asshole! The same place I expected you to be, since you bailed on me!”

“Get here quickly.”

“Get where? And how the hell am I supposed to do that without my car? Someone took it and - you know what, put Jigen on. Is he there?” The line went dead, and Lupin was left staring at the receiver. What was his problem anyway?

Lupin was about to walk away when the phone rang again. “Go to hell,” Lupin snapped, expecting Goemon.

“Lupin?” Fujiko’s voice.

“Fujicakes! I didn’t mean that, sweetheart! Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Lupin... how stupid can you be?”

“What? I don’t even know what’s happening! Goemon just called and started acting like a jerk and then he hung up on me. Are you guys together? What the hell happened?”

Fujiko didn’t reply for a moment. “You seriously don’t know? We had to leave last night. I took your car. Jigen...” she paused. “Jigen got ambushed and shot. We don’t... actually know anything right now about his condition. But he’s in bad shape, and I guess we won’t know anything for a while.”

Lupin tried to find words, but there didn’t seem to be anything to say. “Oh,” he managed after a minute.

“I’ll come pick you up. You should be here.”

~

On the drive over, Fujiko tried to explain what she knew, but Lupin was barely listening. He tried to feel something - rage towards the men who had done this, or horror that his friend was badly injured (and dying?) or even guilt that he’d been the one who sent him there. But he felt nothing about it. His mind was just a buzz of numb denials. Jigen would be fine he’s always fine and everything always goes according to plan except when it doesn’t but even when it doesn’t everything’s always okay we’re all okay everyone is

And the quiet thought but what if he isn’t? was there... somewhere. But beyond that possibility was nothing at all. A void. Beyond that, Lupin could not imagine.

None of it really sank in until he saw Goemon standing in the hospital wing. Unlike Lupin, he did not seem dazed or shaken. Goemon was in his element - he had a purpose, and a fury. But unfortunately, the surgery doors were not a good place to vent it.

“Goemon...” Lupin said, stopping next to his friend. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

Goemon glanced at Lupin. “I am sorry, too.”

So that was that.

There was nothing to do now but wait. Lupin slipped out to disguise himself before anyone caught him. Fujiko had put hers on a long time ago. Goemon hadn’t bothered, but Goemon probably wasn’t recognizable to the general public. As for Jigen, he only needed a false name and an unassuming face. He had one, and the other was easy to give.

~

Waiting sucked. Lupin spent his time flickering between concern and boredom. One minute his mind would be on Jigen, and the next, on his failed heist. Dammit, he hated to lose! But he also knew it wasn’t worth a friend. Still, it seemed like such a bad job, and Jigen wasn’t the sort to give up either.

So Lupin went round in circles like that, only pausing when a particularly fine young nurse walked by. Goemon noticed at once when Lupin moved and caught him by the neck.

“Stay there.”

“Hey, give me a break! You let Fujiko go mess with the computer system! What are you, my babysitter?”

“Just stay there.”

Lupin stayed, grumbling to himself. Goemon never took his eyes off the doors. “Look, man,” Lupin said after a while longer. “I need a break. I’ll be back. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re going to see that nurse,” Goemon muttered.

“No, I’m going for a walk!” Lupin replied. “I will be back.”

He just needed air, and to have this damn disguise off. He went outside, took off his fake beard and lingered around the back of the building to smoke. Hospitals weren’t keen on that sort of thing. Bad luck for Jigen, if he made it out of this one. And damn him, he’d better.

When he came back in Fujiko greeted him by the entrance. “He’s out. Room 207. He’s alive and they think he’ll be okay, but he’s still unconscious.”

“Did you go see him?”

“Do you think he’d want me to?” Fujiko shrugged. “No, I didn’t go in there. Goemon’s with him. He wouldn’t know anything about it, either way. You probably don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

Lupin shoved his hands into his pockets and headed down the hall. “Yeah, I do.”

~

It went on like that for a few days. Lupin would visit whenever he could, disguised as a doctor, or a janitor, or even just some guy looking for a relative. Goemon never left. Apparently no one wanted the trouble of trying to remove the fully-armed samurai from the hospital room. Lupin and Fujiko took turns bringing him food, trying (unsuccessfully) to get him to go for a walk and let someone else stand guard, or at least trying (unsuccessfully) to get him to take a nap. It didn’t do any good. Every time Lupin was in there, Goemon was sitting on the windowsill, watching Jigen carefully.

“Does he ever wake up?” Lupin asked. He’d been in there so often and yet every time he came Jigen was the same - dead asleep and unresponsive.

“Sometimes,” Goemon replied.

The next question was going to suck but Lupin had to ask it. “Does he ever ask to see me?”

Goemon nodded, and Lupin felt a rush of honest guilt for the first since this happened. “You just miss him every time. But he understands.”

Jigen’s breathing was harsh and shallow. Part of being shot in the chest, pretty much. Lupin had put his hat over his face the way he usually had it when he slept. Maybe it would help a little. “Wake up, buddy,” he whispered, leaning close to Jigen’s ear. He got no response, and hadn’t expected one. “We still need you.”

~

On the fifth day, Goemon was asleep when Lupin came in. He was still in his guard position, perched on the windowsill, but his head was slumped onto his chest and he was snoring quietly. He jerked up in surprise at Lupin’s entrance, readying his sword, but when he saw who it was he just settled back down and went right back to sleep.

“About time too. I told him to go home and rest but nah. You know he’s too proud for any of that.” At the sound of the voice, Lupin rushed over to the bed.

“Jigen!”

“Glad I’m still recognizable.” He was. His voice was weak and strained and he looked like a man who’d just come back from the brink of death - but there was no doubt he was Jigen.

“I haven’t seen you in five days. I thought - I wasn’t sure you were going to wake up at all.”

“Yeah, that’d be all the drugs. They’re fantastic things, almost make me want to get shot more often. But Goemon already said if I try it he’ll cut my throat, so I think I shouldn’t.”

“He’s been offering to cut a lot of throats lately,” Lupin said, looking fondly over at the samurai. “I think he missed you.”

“I’d say I missed him too, but honestly I don’t remember anything between getting blasted off the roof and waking up a couple hours ago. How’d the rest of the job go? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“Nah, just inconvenienced a little. We’ll try it again some other time.” But Lupin wasn’t actually sure they would. It went against his principles - failing to steal what he set out to steal - but then, if things went south again in a worse way... if he lost his partner for good, then he wouldn’t be stealing much of anything again. Ever.

“I thought maybe they’d catch you off guard like they caught me. Glad to know it didn’t happen.”

“Never to me,” Lupin laughed. “But you’re not - you’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Yeah. Eventually. I’m not down for the count just yet.”

Lupin sighed. Okay. He was going to be fine - not that Lupin had ever doubted it, of course, but... “Hey, and are you mad at me?”

“Not really. I wanted to be, but at this point I’m too tired and I think Goemon’s probably given you a hard enough time.”

“Yeah, if you’d died I think he would have hunted me across the face of the earth for the rest of my life,” Lupin said. “...Thanks for not dying.”

“I do my best.”

“Really though. I don’t know what we’d do if we lost you.”

“Eh, guys like me are a dime a dozen. Just gotta know where to look,” Jigen’s voice faded, growing tired. “You’d do okay. It might not be easy to find yourself a new partner who suits your every need but I promise there’s a million of us out there.”

Lupin couldn’t quite agree with that. He’d met hired men before. He met them damn near every day in his work and they were generally all the same. Cruel, angry, violent men who had no care or respect for anything or anybody. Jigen wasn’t like that. But then, Lupin had to wonder, if the two of them had never met, if Jigen had spent the last few years of his life going from job to job, working as a hired thug, and if they’d first crossed paths just yesterday... would Lupin even recognize him, then? Would he have even tried to take him, make a friend out of him?

Yes.

At least, that was what Lupin was going to tell himself. Jigen was drifting off again and there didn’t seem to be much else to say. So Lupin just settled back. Fujiko would be around in an hour with dinner. And even if there was a likelihood she wouldn’t, Lupin believed she would.

It was just easier that way, believing things.

[atinybitofau]

Y U N H O ⇨ mafia au

THE ONE WHERE YOU MAKE HIM DRINKS EVERY DAY BUT HE LITERALLY HATES THEM

disclaimer: may contain implied mature content

• you think of him as a really hot leather studded big fluff ball.

• but that’s not what the world thinks of him.

• he keeps his truths a secret really well from you.

• that and you don’t really care to look at Yunho for his evils

• I mean, you just run a decent coffee business down the street from his hideout.

• how the hell are you supposed to know he’s a cold blooded killer?!

• “Hi, Yunho!”

• he’s fatally in love with everything about you.

• would go through lengths to keep you safe.

• make sure no one gets to cherish you the way he does.

• he’s leaning on the palm of his hand as you make his drink

• — one that he’s already tired of.

• but gets it everyday just to see your face.

• “One 6 shot, non fat soy, caramel drizzled latte on ice coming right up.”

• he’s a complete fool when he’s smiling at you guard down.

• you could be the most dangerous weapon against him and he should probably be more careful.

• but he’s not.

• cause he’s a fool.

• “How was work today, Yunnie?”

• he beams at you while you make his drink behind the counter.

• mesmerized by how you move.

• how gentle you were.

• and how ridiculously hot you were.

• “Curving bullets all day, baby.”

• you giggle not taking it literally when you really should.

• but even if that statement were true.

• he was thinking more on the lines of the curves on your trained waist rather than the curves of his trained bullets.

• “You ugh.. you have plans tonight?”

• he’s been trying to win you over since the first day he stepped foot in your shop.

• he thinks you’re so goddamn mindless, you don’t realize his heart eyed look every time he walks through your doors

• you hand him his drink before saying. “I’m going to that club on 49th.”

• he knows that club.

• and he knows it’s no good.

• his jaw clenches and he’s careful with his next set of words. “What for?”

• “You remember Hyemi? It’s her bachelorette’s party and she wanted to celebrate there. I heard it was an okay place though, Yunnie. You don’t have to worry about me.”

• he wants to scoff at you.

• he’s gonna worry about you regardless.

• “Was gonna ask you out.”

• you’re flattered and it’s not the first time Yunho has asked.

• and it’s not the first time you turn him down cause you think he’s joking.

• why would a guy like him—

• with looks to kill.

• want a girl like you?

• “Sorry, Yunnie.” You get ready to close for the day, walking around the counter to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “You know that’s no good for you.”

• fuck— god yes

• maybe being with you wasn’t good for him at all

• but he’s thinking,

• with an ass like that?

• you’d be too good for him in general

• he’d wait for the day he gets to grab you and slam you over your counters.

• even if he’s gotta kill someone for it.

• but he’s got more class than that.

• or more like, that time hasn’t come yet.

• “Okay baby. Just remember to be careful. Wouldn’t want my personal coffee maker to be in too much trouble.”

• you smile at him before locking up your store.

• “Yes cause you wouldn’t want me to stop making the best tasting drinks in the world for you, Yunnie. Right?”

• “Right indeed.” he licks his lips behind you, eyes focused on the real drink, but smirk turned smile when you turn around to face him.

• “Bye Yunho! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

• he watches you with hungry eyes.

• maybe it’s because he can’t take it anymore.

• that he needs you more than wants you right now.

• but he remembers the task at hand.

• that you were about to enter uncharted territory.

• and that if he weren’t there, you nor your friends were going to make it out of there untouched.

• and obviously, Jeong Yunho doesn’t like to share.

• so he’s not surprised he gets a little carried away.

• Hongjoong face palming behind him thinking, -why’d I ever think going with Yunho would be a good idea?-

• his subordinate who never misses a shot.

• and the element of his gang who always got what he wanted.

• Yunho is slightly cringing when he accidentally put a bullet in the man’s head.

• said man who attempted to jump over Yunho’s fence that read DON’T TOUCH right over your ass.

• “Whoops?”

• Hongjoong just sighs and watches the people of the club pile out in absolute terror.

• all but you standing there.

• mortified by what you just saw.

• cause you’re pretty sure Yunho just killed the guy trying to knead your ass to clay.

• not that you liked it or anything—

• BUT YOU DIDN’T MEAN FOR SOMEONE TO KILL HIM.

• “Hi baby.”

• your eyebrows furrow when Yunho scarily approaches you.

• you aren’t surprised.

• actually you kind of already knew.

• caught his gun hanging out of his jacket too many times to not know.

• “Yunho.” you manage out still shaken from the events but not wanting to push him over his limits. “Yunho, did you just kill that man?”

• he pouts snaking his arms around you, lust eyed and completely compelled to you.

• “He was touching you. You didn’t like that right?”

• you notice the smaller man behind him,

• who watches with his jaw slacked because how the fuck?

• obviously no one knows how you work.

• and see..

• you kind of knew you had Yunho wrapped around your finger.

• even though you were oblivious to his obsessive loving feelings.

• “You know most girls would run right now and call the cops on you, Yunnie.” you scold him as he nuzzles his face into your neck, comfortable despite the height difference.

• “But you won’t.”

• “I should be scared of you.”

• he lays a soft kiss against your jawline and hums, “But you aren’t.”

• you shudder at his vibration, not knowing how much of a toll Jeong Yunho really had on you.

• “I’m sorry, baby. I got angry. Don’t like seeing you with other men. Drives me crazy you know? I would never use my gun in front of you on purpose.”

• you’re kind of okay with it.

• okay with Yunho.

• cause if he really wanted to hurt you, he would’ve already.

• “It’s not okay to just kill people, Yunho, you know that.”

• “Won’t do it without your permission.” He mumbles hands going to your neck. “Won’t unless you ask me too.”

• Hongjoong’s behind him thinking—

• now-what kind of fucked up shit was this?-

• how the hell did a girl like you end up in the arms of the one killer he thought would only answer to himself?

• when he’s standing there dumb in love wrapped around you saying he’ll only answer your requests.

• Hongjoong’s dumbfounded

• and so are you.

• “Been in love with you since day one. Was just thirsty and probably woulda killed you after you made me my drink. But then I just saw you and.. I went every day to see you. To make sure no one would have you.”

• you blink up at the taller man who’s eyes are hooded, fingers tracing up your skin and behind your hair.

• “Will do anything for you, baby. Please don’t be mad.”

• you don’t know what to say.

• you’re not mad?

• you’re terrified— out of your wits.

• but definitely could never be mad at Yunho

• because to you, he’s just a huge fluff ball.

• who sometimes doesn’t seem to know the difference between good and bad.

• “You’re not mad at me are you baby?”

• you shake your head and police sirens fill your ears.

• “Yunho, you need to—“

• “Not going anywhere without you.”

• you sigh knowing this was still Yunho

• the stubborn charmer who made you remake his drink every time you got it wrong the first two months.

• the stubborn idiot who always begs for a kiss before you close or he wouldn’t let you

• so you grab his collar roughly and give him what he wants.

• pulling him into a kiss, almost having to hold him because he’s lulled out.

• “Shit.” He grunts starry eyed. “Okay. Yeah. We really gotta go now.”

• you roll your eyes at the helpless romantic before you’re suddenly lifted up into his arms.

• “By the way,”

• you look up at him with a raised eyebrow.

• “I hate your drinks.”

• you smile cause you knew that too.

• knew he only came every day to look at your face.

• “Want to make me a new one?” he abruptly asks the sirens not much of a threat right now.

• “And what would you want in it?”

• that obnoxious smirk on his face tells you that it’s probably not bottled on a shelf in your store.

• and that you’re wrong for even thinking he was being literal.

• because you were actually going to get fucked over your counter later tonight.

• to find out the things he wanted weren’t caramel or whipped cream.

• at all.

@atinybitofau

[furtheradvofsanta]

Santa Letter 2020

Every year, Santa Claus writes a letter to my nephew, and somehow every year I manage to find a copy. If you’ve been wondering what Santa and crew have been up to in quarantine, well, here you go. Bonus: Jack Frost and Frosty the Snowman go hunting for a yeti.

Santa’s Workshop

Beyond the Riphean Mountains

Beyond the North Wind

True North Pole

December 21, 2020

My dearest [name],

What a strange year this has been. I hope you and your family are doing well, or as well as possible at least. I don’t know how much you remember your five Christmases before this one, but they weren’t much like this sixth one, and I hope the seventh and beyond won’t be much like this one either! At least this year I am definitely writing to you from home and not the Moon, where the mail takes so long to travel from (and where I guess they print in blue ink!), but I’ve been at home so long now, I honestly wouldn’t mind a quick little hop to the Moon, or anywhere, if I were allowed.

But before I tell you about what things have been like here at the North Pole as we have all been stuck at home, let me tell you about what happened at the beginning of the year, which I think will amuse you. You see, our good friend Jack Frost came to visit us after we had finished our rounds for Christmas. Along with him came his brother, whose name I have not mentioned before, because his name is in Russian, and is something of a big name for little eyes: МОРОЗКО. Some of those letters may not even look like letters to you, but I promise you, in Russian, they are. It means something like “Little Frost,” and he got the name from his grandfather, Grandfather Frost, so I suppose I will call him “Frostie,” which some have been known to call him.

When Jack and Frostie arrived at the workshop after the Christmas rush, it was obvious that Frostie was upset. Angry, even. This is fairly unusual for him, as he is usually the cooler head that prevails over Jack’s flights of fancy. Another thing you need to know about Frostie is that, well, he doesn’t have a body. Because of an accident that happened many years ago, he’s more like a ghost who lives in a hat. But whenever that hat is placed on something--a mannequin or doll, for instance--that thing comes alive with Frostie’s spirit. Because of his family’s power over the winter frost, the most common thing he uses for a body is a snowman. In fact, he’s pretty famous for his adventures that way.

One of his best-known adventures happened many years ago in the small town of Armonk, New York, where he played with the children there and raised Christmas spirits considerably. You might have heard about it. The people of that town celebrate this adventure every year with a parade in which Frostie is the guest of honor. Despite generally being a pretty modest young man, Frostie does love this parade and he attends every year. In most ways, 2019 was no different. But then something chanced to catch his eye.

As the parade was processing down Main Street toward the village square, Frostie happened to look over at a local storefront that was decorated for Christmas. What he saw was a snowy mountain scene populated by dolls fashioned to look like strange figures: mostly human-shaped but very large, with long white hair covering most of their bodies and only bits of blue skin peeking out at their faces, hands, and very large feet. You might have heard of the creatures depicted in this scene. In the snowy Himalayas, they call them the Migoi or the Mirka, but most people there and elsewhere call them the yeti. In English, the yeti is often called the Abominable Snowman, and an old friend of mine used to call them bumbles because he couldn’t say “abominable” very well.

America has its own fair share of large, hairy, human-like ape creatures that stalk through their woods. The most famous of these of course is the sasquatch, also known as Bigfoot, who lives in the Northwest states like Washington and Oregon, down into Northern California, but there’s also the Fouke Monster in Arkansas, the Skunk Ape in Florida, the Hillbilly Beast in Kentucky, and several others. The yeti is related to this, but lives way over in Asia, high in the Himalayas, the highest mountains in the world.

The yeti looks like a large ape that walks on two legs, almost eight feet tall, with long arms, a powerfully strong body, and a head with a flat nose, all covered in long red or black hair. While they often appear white, this is usually because their naturally dark fur is covered with snow and ice. They are clever hunters and can turn their feet around backwards so that their footprints look like they’re going the opposite direction, just to fool anyone trying to follow them. Their main hunting weapon is a magic rock that they carry under their left arm which always hits and stuns its target--which is usually a yak or a goat, unless a person is really unlucky. They normally live alone, but they talk to each other by making a whistling sound. Plus they smell really bad.

After the parade was over, Frostie decided to see if he could find any more Christmas yetis, so he let his hat take to the wind, and he flew all over the place. The more Frostie looked around, the more decorations he saw of these Abominable Snowmen. He saw ornaments, stuffed animals, dolls, tree toppers, and inflatables in people’s front yards. They were everywhere. And Frostie didn’t like it.

Do you know what the word “abominable” means? It’s not a very nice word. It means something so bad, so mean, so disgusting, that everyone who sees it immediately hates it. Frostie, who was often a snowman himself, didn’t want that to be the word everyone thought of when they thought of snowmen at Christmas. As he himself is a jolly, happy soul (usually), those are the kinds of words he would want to be used to describe snowmen.

(His brother Jack, of course, suggested that the real reason that Frostie was so upset is that he had become used to being the most famous snowman of all, and he didn’t like his spotlight being stolen. This, I think, was Jack teasing his brother, but who knows? There could be some truth to it.)

And so it was that when Jack and Frostie came to visit us after Christmas, Frostie let us know of his plan: he was going to go to the Himalayas, catch a yeti, and tell them to go back up into their mountain caves and leave Christmas to less abominable people! He wasn’t going to go alone, of course. Jack considers himself a big-time adventurer and thought catching one of the scariest monsters in the world would be a real feather in his cap. (Though knowing Jack as I do, I knew he would tell stories of bravely catching an abominable snowman even if he never saw one.) What’s more, the two brothers would be joined by their cousin, the Snow Maiden, whose duties for Grandfather Frost (the grandfather of Jack, Frostie, and the Snow Maiden who lives in a snowy estate in the forests of Russia) she had completed after the New Year, which is when Russian children get presents.

Frostie thought it would be a good family outing for the three cousins to travel together, since the two brothers are normally roaming the world and the Snow Maiden spends most of her time with Grandfather Frost. I think the Snow Maiden was more interested in the travels with her family than any chance of seeing (or smelling) a yeti. And, as I said, Jack was more interested in being able to boast about hunting a great monster than in saving the good name of snowmen everywhere.

But Frostie was still glad to have them along. Each one of them has a good amount of snow and ice magic on their own, but together the three of them should have been unstoppable, even in the face of giant hairy ape-men. As they were preparing for their trip, Jack even started singing a song that he made up (or so he says) about their expedition. I don’t remember all the words, but I do remember him singing this part over and over at the top of his lungs, until the words echoed through the reindeer stalls and frightened all the calves:

“Well, it’s cheer up, my lads!

Keep your hearts ever steady!

For the bonny brave Frost cousins

Go a-hunting for the yeti!”

And before we knew it, they were off. As quick as a wink, Jack and the Snow Maiden had whisked themselves up into invisible snowy winds and carried Frostie’s hat off with them. Fortunately, the same Christmas magic that lets me know when children are in danger or when they’re up to coal-worthy antics would warn me if anything went wrong for them on their trip that required a quick reindeer rescue. Frostie had told me not to worry, as he had once saved a city in Maryland from monsters that were a lot like yetis except much, much bigger. In that case, a local doctor had simply built a very, very large snowman body for Frostie to inhabit, which made scaring off the frost giants much easier. He said that if things got too scary, Jack could easily make him a similar body. I guess it was better than no plan at all, but I hoped they wouldn’t have to count on a giant snowman saving them.

As it turns out, they didn’t have to build a giant snowman. But that’s not to say there wasn’t any danger. In fact, only a few days after the Frost cousins had left for the mountains of Tibet, I had a dream in which I could see what they were up to. After failing to find a snowbeast for some time, the three cousins decided to find a place to rest. What they found was an old abandoned mill where the local people used to grind barley into flour. Since it was obvious no one had been there in a long time, the three built a fire and settled in to sleep.

In the darkest, quietest time of the night, they were all suddenly woken up by the sound of the mill door slamming shut! When they opened their eyes, they saw the giant, shaggy form of an angry yeti standing over them! “This is my hideout!” he growled in an angry voice. “What are you doing here? I’m going to eat you up!”

The three cousins were scared and didn’t know what to do. They had great power among them, but this yeti had caught them off-guard. There was no snow inside the mill for Frostie to use as a body, so the plan that had worked on the frost giants in Maryland wouldn’t work here. Jack decided to turn to his most powerful weapon: tall tales.

“It’s good that you’re here, Mister Yeti,” said Jack. “We’ve been looking all over for you. My brother and sister and I are all powerful frost giants from the land of Giants’ Home and we have taken on these puny human forms to come and see how this world’s snow and ice monsters are doing.” He stood up and walked around the yeti as if he were checking out a suit of clothes that he was considering buying. “You seem to be doing a very good job, very frightening. The stink is good, it reminds me of home. Your sweaty armpit rock is very intimidating as well. I’ll let the king of the giants know that he doesn’t have to worry about the ape-men of the Himalayas.”

Unfortunately, the yeti wasn’t buying Jack’s story any more than you might. He grabbed Jack by the back of his collar and lifted him up off the ground to look him straight in the eye. Jack did his best not to grimace when the sour milk smell of the yeti’s steamy breath puffed into his nostrils. “Show me,” said the yeti. “Show me that you are a giant. If you are so strong, you could crush me.” Jack couldn’t answer. “Why do you look so scared?”

So Frostie’s plan to make a big snowman hadn’t worked, and the yeti wasn’t convinced by Jack’s fibs. Fortunately there was still a third Frost cousin. The Snow Maiden cried out, just as the yeti was about to bop Jack one right on the head, “Wait! Mister Yeti, I know we have come into your hiding place and now you are going to eat us up. That is only fair. But I have one request. Where we come from, it is a custom before dying to cover our legs with oil before dying. That way we can run swiftly to Heaven. Will you allow us to do this?”

The yeti thought it over and decided he didn’t really care if his dinner tasted like oil or not, especially since he planned to gobble them up so fast that he wouldn’t even be able to taste anything. And so he agreed to let the cousins brush their legs with oil before he ate them up. But what he didn’t know was that the brush the Snow Maiden held up wasn’t a brush for rubbing oil on things: it was Jack’s magic paintbrush that he uses to paint frost crystals on windows and sparkling white icicles on tree branches.

The Snow Maiden ran the brush up and down her leg and said, “This is so wonderful. My legs feel like I could run anywhere, as fast as the wind. I could catch up to a yak without trying. I could leap from mountaintop to mountaintop.”

The yeti, who would have liked to be able to catch a yak without trying, grabbed the brush from the Snow Maiden’s hands. “Let me try that!” he growled. Soon he was rubbing the brush up and down his hideous hairy legs, just as he had seen the Snow Maiden do, all the way down to his furry, backwards feet. With each swipe of the brush, however, the yeti’s legs became more and more covered in ice thanks to the magic of the paintbrush. Before he even noticed what was happening, his legs were so frozen that he couldn’t move. Jack couldn’t believe the Snow Maiden, normally so polite, had pulled off a better trick than even he could think of, and with his own brush no less.

With the yeti frozen to the ground, the Frost cousins took their chance to escape. Jack, with one last flick of his brush, froze the yeti’s mouth closed so that he wouldn’t be able to whistle a warning to the others out there hiding among the mountain caves. The three Frosts disappeared into a flurry of snow, and that was the end of my dream. I did not dream about them again for a long time, so I figured that meant they were safe.

Meanwhile, it turns out that it was everywhere else that wasn’t safe! Suddenly, everywhere all over the world people were getting sick, and the only way to stay healthy was to stay inside or wear a mask if you had to go out. That was true everywhere, even here at the North Pole. You may have heard on TV that I can’t catch this sickness, which is true--I wouldn’t be able to deliver presents this year otherwise--but that’s not true for everyone who lives up here at the North Pole. And so we had to make sure everyone was safe.

My main apprentice, Pete, was very helpful in making sure that his brothers all washed their hands several times a day while singing the song “Saint Nicholas, Little Rascal” (a very popular song in the Netherlands) twice to make sure they were all the way clean. The animals couldn’t get sick, so Rupert didn’t have much to do besides his normal job, though he did make sure the werewolf in our stables always kept a mask over his snout. The elves in the workshop made special breathing devices that filtered out any sickness from the air. I told them they didn’t have to work and that I would make all the toys this year, but they said that toymakers are essential workers, and I couldn’t disagree. We can’t disappoint the children. This year has been bad enough.

The Krampus assured me that the beasts huddled up in our outbuilding of furry friends were enough like animals that they wouldn’t get sick any more than the reindeer would. That was good, because I couldn’t imagine trying to convince that big pile of monsters that they should stay six feet away from each other.

Once we had made sure that everyone at the workshop was being careful and staying home, it was up to Mrs. Claus to make sure that everyone out in the village in the forest was being safe. Mrs. Claus and her two closest helpers, Holly and Ivy, who are both tree spirits like Mrs. Claus, went out into the thick forest of fir trees that surround the North Pole workshop. First they told all the other tree spirits that it would be best to just stay in their trees this year unless absolutely necessary.

Then they turned to the Mushroom People who make their homes underneath the fir trees, with their little red caps with white spots. They had come to live in our forest after being driven out of their homes by the Penny Bun Mushrooms in the War of the Mushrooms. They found it most comfortable to live under the shade of silver fir trees, and since we have more of those than anywhere else in the world, they live with us. When Mrs. Claus told them about how everyone was getting sick, they said they weren’t worried because their people were blessed with good luck, but that they would still stay inside anyway to help everyone else.

Then Mrs. Claus, Holly, and Ivy checked with the Moss People, the Mossmen and Mosswomen, who live with us to hide away from the wild hunters who try to catch them every year. The Moss People were all fine, tucked away inside their hollow log homes. Next, Mrs. Claus and her helpers checked with the timid Pinecone People, who can normally be found climbing over the rooftops during the Twelve Days of Christmas, and made them promise to stay home and not climb on any rooftops at all.

Holly and Ivy then ranged out deeper into the fir forest in an attempt to find Belsnickel, the woodsman of the North Pole, who keeps to himself at the best of times. They looked and looked and couldn’t find him, so we feel pretty confident that he’s keeping away from other people, which is pretty normal for him anyway. Don’t worry about him being lonely, though, as I’m sure he has no shortage of snowshoe hares, Arctic foxes, puffins, and snow buntings to keep him company.

I myself went to talk to the Valkyries, the warrior women who watch over the northern sky and whose armor twinkles in the distant light of the sun, creating what most people call the Northern Lights. I talked to their leader, whose name is Mist, as she hovered in the night sky above the Earth. Normally, the job of Valkyries is to select the bravest warriors from any battle who might be worthy to join the Hall of Heroes who spend their days training to fight a giant wolf who they know will one day try to eat the world. (Don’t worry, that wolf is chained up with the strongest chains ever built. They were made by the relatives of our workshop elves, so I know they’re of good quality and should last a long time.) Mist told me that because so many people were staying home this year, there were no battles for them to watch over. That meant they could stay home in the skies above the North Pole.

I went next to talk to the Great North Polar Bear, Callisto, and her son, Arcas. As they are bears, I knew they wouldn’t need to worry about a human sickness. I still wanted to check on them and make sure they were okay, because I didn’t want them to be lonely. I also asked them if they would do me the favor of keeping an eye on the entrance to the Star Land. You remember that Callisto and Arcas live up among the stars above the Pole to be a sign to the people so they can always find which way is north. Because they live in the stars, they are neighbors to the Star People of Star Land. I was not particularly worried that the Star Man or the Little Star would wander out of the Star Land and into the human world and get sick, but I knew that some of the little ones, the Star Boys and little angels who romp and play all over that starry land, might not be old enough to understand that they can’t play with or sing for little human girls and boys this year. Callisto promised that she would look out for any stray cherubs dancing down the light beams towards the Earth. I thanked her by promising her we would save her and Arcas an extra big portion of their favorite soda when they visited next.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Claus took one of the horses from the stables and rode out to the Riphean Mountains, which surround the North Pole and help keep unwanted visitors out. She rode to the court of King Lunicursor, the king of the griffins who live in the mountains, protecting their hoards of gold. Griffins, of course, are half eagle and half lion, so they can’t catch a human virus. We weren’t worried about the griffins, but rather about the one-eyed giants who also live in the Riphean Mountains and who are always trying to steal the griffins’ gold. Despite only having one eye and being larger and meaner than a normal human, we were worried that the Arimaspians, as they are called, would not care very much about their health or anyone else’s, and they might run down into human villages and spread sickness everywhere. They are definitely rude enough that they would never wear a mask or stay six feet away from someone, or even wash their hands or cover their mouths when they cough. Very rude.

Lunicursor, you will remember, is quite friendly with Mrs. Claus after the two of them flew to the Moon last year to stop the Mouse King with the legendary sword Crackatook. He was, of course, very happy to see Mrs. Claus, and he agreed to keep a close eye on the Arimaspians this year and try to keep them too busy to make war with their neighbors south of the mountains. Mrs. Claus and Lunicursor also agreed that the griffins’ job of flying across the world and finding homes for unwanted toys was more important than ever this year. This year has been lonely enough for some children. We want to make sure they get all the toys they can.

Beyond the peaks where the griffins guard their gold and the valleys were the Arimaspians pasture their horses lie the banks of the Eridanus River, the only river that leads up through the Riphean Mountains. Along its banks grow long rows of poplar trees that never stop weeping golden, sticky amber. The trees cry because they used to be human, the sisters of a young man who foolishly thought he could control the sun as if he were driving a sleigh. He was wrong, and he steered it too close to the Earth and burned a big part of it up, creating what we know now as the Sahara Desert. In the end, he lost control altogether, and his sisters were so sad after he fell from the sun and back to Earth that they turned into trees that have been crying ever since. 

Swimming in the waters of the Eridanus are huge flocks of swans. Most of them used to be human; in fact, they were the people who lived at the North Pole before we did, when it was still spring all the time, before the cold came. When the people of the North Pole became old, they would dive into the waters of the Eridanus, and its magic turned them into swans. Also among them are many Swan Maidens, who can change between human form and swan form, but who are not originally from the North Pole. They are watched over by their brother, the Swan Knight, who rides a boat pulled by his sisters in their swan forms. I’ll have to tell you more about them another time.

Anyway, Mrs. Claus rode down from the mountains, sneaking through the valleys of the Arimaspians, and to the banks of the river. There she talked to the Swan Maidens and the Swan Knight and made them promise to stay along the banks of the river, or if they had to visit the human world, that they would stay in their swan forms. The Swan Maidens all promised to obey Mrs. Claus, and I hope they were being honest. Many of the Swan Maidens used to be princesses and are not used to doing what other people say, even when it’s for their own good.

Beyond the banks of the Eridanus lies a snowy land that has been cursed to eternal winter where only horrible creatures like the Awgwas live, so there isn’t much good we could do there. The Awgwas are even ruder than the Arimaspians, and besides, they can turn invisible, so it’s not likely we’d find them if we wanted to. Once you get beyond that, you’ll find the Islands of Amber and the Island of Tin and Furthest Thule and other places that are well outside the influence of the North Pole. Hopefully those people will make good decisions for themselves.

And so you can see, from the Pole to the Workshop to the stables to the Krampus shelters to the village to the fir forest to the Northern Lights to the Star Land to the Riphean Mountains to the Riphean valleys to the banks of the Eridanus, we have done our best to keep everyone safe and inside this year. It has been a hard and lonely year, but we have done our best. We tried to focus on our work and making toys and getting ready for Christmas, but sometimes it can be hard to pay attention to work, and that’s okay too.

The good news is this: after many months of staying home and making sure all the creatures of the North Pole were doing the same, I finally had another dream about the Frost cousins. The three of them were standing on an icy peak near Mount Everest, the tallest mountain in the world, hoping from that high point they could spy a yeti. Of course, the wind and snow made it very hard to see anything, let alone a sneaky beast whose fur was crusted white with frost against blankets of snow. And while their attention was focused on what was down the mountain, they weren’t thinking about what was coming behind them!

Yes, it was a yeti! This one was even taller than the one who had tried to gobble them up at the mill. Fortunately they heard his large, backwards feet cracking through the snow behind them. When they whipped their heads around to see what had made the noise, they saw a yeti very different from the one they had encountered before. This one was not crusted over with snow, but rather his long, black fur appeared to be neatly combed. The look on his face was peaceful and welcoming, rather than snarling and hungry. And perhaps most strangely of all, he was wearing clothes! Even though they were ragged from age and use, the Frost cousins could tell that the yeti was wearing monk’s robes. With his magic rock tucked under his left arm, this unusual creature was dragging a large portion of meat behind him with his right arm.

Rather than threatening to eat the Frost cousins up, he asked if they would like to get out of the cold and join him for a meal. The way he asked was so polite, even sassy Jack didn’t bother pointing out that the Frost cousins never got cold. Instead, the polite Snow Maiden agreed that they would follow him. Frostie was nervous about following a yeti to his home, but he knew this was perhaps his best shot at telling an abominable snowman to leave Christmas to the jolly, happy snowmen.

This yeti, it turned out, lived in a small house near the peak of Everest. For many years he had lived there with a monk--a human monk--who was his friend, and who had taught the yeti how to be a monk himself. It turns out that many, many years ago, the monk had been keeping watch over the world one night, silently praying for good things for the people and animals of the world below him. In the winter moonlight, a yeti--this yeti, the one telling the story--tried to sneak up on him to gobble him up, as the yeti at the mill had tried to do to the Frost cousins.

Instead, the monk turned around and showed the yeti his peaceful, smiling face. The monk’s attitude was so loving and calm that the yeti forgot that he had meant to make a meal of him. With gentle words and loving gestures, the monk invited the yeti into his humble home, the very cabin where the yeti and the three cousins now sat. The yeti was a welcome guest here at the home of the monk. He had never felt so happy and accepted in his life, and soon he wondered why he had ever tried to hurt anyone.

The monk treated the yeti as if he were his brother--because, the monk said, all those who walk the Earth are his siblings--and as if he had lived in his home for years. The monk’s words were like seeds that he planted in the yeti’s heart, and those kind and gentle words blossomed into peace and love within the yeti. Soon the yeti would help the monk by getting food and firewood for the two of them, and the monk taught him his way of life. Although the monk had grown old and died many years ago, the yeti lived on, continuing to live in the style of peace and kindness the monk had taught him.

And that is how the Frost cousins had found him. The four joined together in happiness and warmth inside the monk’s cabin, enjoying the warm fire and the meal the yeti prepared for them. It was very good, in my opinion, that the cousins found someone so kind and helpful, because soon after they arrived in the yeti’s small house, the order went out that everyone needed to stay home or else get sick. That was, of course, back in the spring.

So Jack, Frostie, and the Snow Maiden have been living with the yeti monk for most of a year, eating yak for dinner and learning the ways of peace and kindness. My dream didn’t show me everything that has been going on with them for nine months, but I do know that now that he’s met this yeti, Frostie has changed his tune about yetis. He thinks that calling them abominable is very rude, and that while some of them are mean and cruel, others of them are more like adorable snowmen. And so he’s decided that it’s okay if some people decorate for Christmas while using yetis as long as they don’t forget to use regular snowmen, too. I think he’ll probably get his wish.

The extra good news is that a doctor just called me this week to tell me that they were making a medicine to help people fight the sickness that caused so much trouble this year. While they are still working on making enough for everyone to have some, they know how important Christmas is to so many people, so they wanted to make sure we got some at the North Pole so that we can make our rounds. As soon as it gets here, I’m going to fly the sleigh down to the Himalayas to find Jack, Frostie, and the Snow Maiden and take them back to Grandfather Frost in Russia so they can get ready to help him deliver gifts on New Year’s!

I will have to take my fastest reindeer, because we at the North Pole of course have our own work to do, and Christmas is coming soon! I will definitely be coming to see you, because I know you have been good this year, staying at home and wearing a mask when you go out! I wish there were more people who would follow your example, but there are a lot of names on the naughty list this year, I’m afraid, all because they are so angry about masks! Anyway, there’s plenty of coal to go around for people like that.

Have a merry Christmas, and here’s to a better year in 2021! Give my love to your mommy and daddy and all of your family. I will be there to visit soon! 

Your friend,

Santa Claus