#Avery is full of empty threats and such

[stardropcritter]

First Friend

Iris woke up feeling surprisingly well-rested. Refreshed, even. The clock on the bedside table indicated 9am, so she could admit it might take some time before she got used to what her dad used to call “farmer hours”, but at least this was an improvement over her frequent insomnia. She struggled to find the right temperature in a shower old enough to belong in a museum but, after some embarrassing yelps at the freezing temperatures, she managed to shower and get ready for her first day as a new farmer.

Gus and Emily had been kind enough to send her home with some pastries after she met them last night, so thankfully that was breakfast sorted. Unfortunately, the unexpected lack of a kitchen in her small house meant she was without any way to make some coffee, and that was a dangerous situation. She considered the risks, and ultimately decided coffee would have to be the mission of the day after she did at least some farm chores.

She took a moment to check on the baby chicks Marnie had gifted her as a welcome gift, and was relieved to see them snuggled together at the back of the coop. They perked up when they heard her enter, and her heart warmed at the sight of the two tiny creatures tripping over themselves to go and greet her. She picked up the small brown hen, who she’d named Viola, and pet her softly. Viola cooed happily in response. “We’re going to do our best here, all three of us” Iris said to both tiny chicks, “and it will be good. Right, guys?”

As if they understood her, both chicks nuzzled against her arms for a moment, before deciding that their leftover food was more important. Fair enough, solid priorities. She left them to their own devices and spent the next two hours clearing out some of the debris on the main field in front of her house. It was far more exhausting than she’d expected, and her current set of tools wasn’t even good enough to get rid of some of the larger rocks and logs on the property. By the time 1pm rolled around, the sun was far too strong overhead, and Iris could barely lift her arms anymore. She felt slightly sunburnt, exhausted, sweaty, and was under threat of a category five caffeine headache. It was time to go beg Gus for some coffee.

Emily hadn’t started her shift yet, but Gus gave her a warm welcome as he made a fresh pot of coffee for her, then slid a small omellete her way for lunch. She thanked him, and assured him he’d be seeing a lot more of her here at the saloon until she could sort out her kitchen situation. Gus disappeared to the back for a few minutes before returning with an old kettle, a few coffee filters, and some freshly ground coffee in a jar. Truly, the man was a hero.

“You’re certainly your father’s daughter” he laughed, a full belly laugh that echoed through the empty saloon. “Avery never could go a single day without his coffee either.”

“Still can’t,” Iris smiled into her cup as she took a sip of the coffee, relaxing as the warmth coursed through her. “Gus, you’re my hero. Honestly. I might actually make it through the day now. Imagine that.”

Gus chuckled and shook his head before he excused himself to go prepare food for the evening. Iris finished her meal and coffee, then packed the gifts into her bag before she set out to explore the town for the day.

As soon as she stepped out of the saloon, she noticed a pen with an adorable german shepherd looking back at her. She blamed the lack of coffee and last night’s exhaustion for having missed the good boy completely until now.

“Hi boy,” she cooed as she approached slowly, “are you friendly?”

He responded with an excited bark and rapidly waving tail, prompting Iris to walk around the other side of the fence to introduce herself to the pup. She let him sniff her hands and, once he approved, proceeded to scratch behind his ears. His tongue lolled out happily.

“Well Dusty,” she said as she spotted the nametag on his collar, “you’re officially the first new friend I’ve made today, and I think that’s great news. Don’t you?”

He licked her chin in response, and Iris dissolved into laughter as she continued to pet him. His attention shifted suddenly, and he bounced with excitement as he spotted someone coming up behind Iris. Iris turned to see a fairly tall guy with tawny brown hair and a varsity jacket walking into the pen. Judging by Dusty’s excitement, she guessed this must be his owner.

“Hi, I’m Iris” she said as she stood to meet him. He was a good head taller than her, she noticed as his hazel eyes met hers. “I hope it’s okay that I was making friends with Dusty here.”

The young man gave Dusty a quick pet behind the ears to calm him down, and smiled at Iris. “Oh, hey, you’re the new girl, huh?” His eyes wandered not so discreetly over her before returning to meet hers after lingering a moment longer on her leather choker. “I think we’ll get along great,” he smiled, “I’m Alex, by the way.”

If this had happened before she’d had any coffee, Iris would likely have bristled under his gaze. Thankfully, a well-caffeinated Iris was a happy Iris, and she didn’t mind just rolling with the interaction for now. “It’s nice to meet you, Alex” she smiled. “Dusty seems happy to see you, are you his owner?” she added as she knelt back down in front of the pup to scratch his chin.

“Yeah, Dusty’s a great friend. We’ve been through a lot together” Alex responded, his posture and smile softening noticeably as he glanced back down at the dog. He seemed somewhat more at ease, after noting how comfortable Dusty was in Iris’ presence. “So, you just moved into that old farm at the edge of town, right?” he asked her.

Iris met his eyes immediately, a small voice in the back of her mind suddenly alarmed that he knew where she lived, even though they had just met. She felt her hands go cold, and took a moment to steady her breathing as she regarded Alex again. His posture was relaxed and open as he turned his attention back to Dusty, his focus away from her. No particular alarm bells rang in her mind as she regarded him. This was a small town, so it should come as no surprise that it had an efficient rumour mill, she thought. Besides, there weren’t many abandoned farms around Pelican town, as far as she knew, so it made sense if he’d heard of hers. This isn’t Zuzu anymore, she reminded herself.

“Yeah, I did” she replied finally. “I just got here yesterday, actually, so today’s the first day I’m taking to really explore the town. Other than Gus and Emily, you and Dusty here are the first ones I’ve met- well, Robin and Mayor Lewis helped me move in yesterday, I guess.”

Alex seemed surprisingly happy to learn this, for whatever reason. “Great! Well,” he stood back up and pointed to a light blue house behind Dusty’s pen, “I live just over here with my grandparents, Evelyn and George. Over there is Pierre’s -that’s the general store- and next to it is the clinic. Dr. Harvey lives right above it” He pointed at each building as he described it, and Iris let her gaze follow along.

“Just across the river over there,” Alex continued “is Joja Mart. If you want better prices than Pierre’s, go there. They’re open more often, too.”

He didn’t seem to notice the way Iris froze as her gaze stuck on the cold neon sign of the store. She missed whatever it was he said next as her head filled with the sound of a rushing cold wind. He might have been talking about the blacksmith? Thankfully, the next thing he mentioned snagged her attention, bringing her back to herself and quieting the howling wind in her mind.

“-and down that side is the Library and Museum” he finished.

Iris met his eyes again and smiled. She’d been worried he would be like old classmates and coworkers from the city when she’d first spotted the varsity jacket and confident swagger, but once he’d introduced himself and relaxed with Dusty’s presence, she was pleasantly surprised by his warm personality.

“Thanks, Alex,” she thanked him as she stood and patted the dirt off her jeans, “that’s actually super helpful.”

He flashed her a bright smile and she chuckled. “Well,” she announced, “I should get going if I want to get to know the rest of the town, maybe get some groceries, too. It was nice to meet you and Dusty, though. I’ll see you around!”

Alex smiled as she turned to leave, making her way to the store, then called out after her, “Nice to meet you too, farm girl! See ya around!”

Iris laughed at the nickname as she pushed open the doors to the general store. Maybe things would be okay out here, after all. She would still make sure to stay clear of the building on the other side of town though, just in case. She pushed the memory of that cold, lifeless neon away and rebuilt her smile as she walked into Pierre’s general store.

[childotkw]

Title: you belong to me (i belong to you)

Fandom:  Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating:  Not Rated

Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley

Characters: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, Avery Sr. (Harry Potter), Lestrange Sr., Nott Sr. (Harry Potter), Orion Black, Albus Dumbledore, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Body Swap, Riddle at Hogwarts Era, Slytherin Politics, Slytherin Harry, Grey Harry, Auror Harry, Mind Games, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Underage Rape/Non-con, Suicide Attempt, The Non-con is not between Harry and Tom

Chapters: 19/?

Chapter Summary:

He was alone.

The realisation came slowly, rising up through the haze until it prised Harry from the hollow he had buried himself in. He lifted his head from the cradle of his arms and waited, burning with tension.

The silence stretched on, unbroken.

Trick, his mind hissed, but the space beyond his cupboard felt empty, that terrible cloak of predatory anticipation absent. Without that presence dominating everything his mind was clearer, his thoughts sharper, and Harry drew in what felt like his first full breath since he had awoken in this place.

There was no fear dripping down his spine now, no mocking voice or sweet, crooning threats clouding his senses.

Harry was alone, with only the unquantifiable passage of time filling his ears.

[bluemoondust]

Can you imagine how insanely difficult it would be to escape one of the psychic type specialists? Most if not all of them probably have at least some form of precognition, plus they can probably just... Sense what their darling is feeling or where they are (didn't Sabrina in the manga say she was able to spot Green just by sensing her?) Anyways, sounds scary, but also h0t lol

Discussed majority of the ones with abilities here. I feel like even if some haven't been said to have these abilities, they'd probably just have a six sense or as you say, can sense how their darling is feeling (the Darling sense—).

It would be scary! Especially since some of those who can sense their darling would just let them run as they follow (Sabrina, Will, Lucien).  Like a game of sorts. It doesn't matter where they go, they'll always be found. This is just to give darling a sense of relief that maybe escape is possible, but only for that hope to be crushed. Or it could be a lesson as the yandere deems it to be (Caitlin, Olympia, Faba, Dexio, Avery, Lucien). Darling will be absolutely terrified with the thought of almost being caught and just the messing around with their head, but it's all good as long as they learn not to pull this stunt ever again.

But yeah, it'd be extremely difficult to escape because they'll know where you are majority of the time. Overwhelming them with sounds would have to play a key factor of escape if Darling grows desperate.

[necros-writing-stuff]

I never interact with Avery, because he bores me. But umm... Maybe you could do some Avery Chikan? Let's pretend there's a train to another town and it happens in that kind of setting.

(- anon 🚩 I have... Specific needs.)

I gotchu. I love chikan so much.

NSFW below (non-con, fem reader, male avery)

Avery can't get away with doing too much back at home. Not if he wants to ensure his reputation stays clean. But out in this far-away city, he is an unknown man.

One who, right now, finds himself with a lovely opportunity. A pretty little thing pressed up against him, the compartment packed with business people on their way back to work or their hotels. Yes, Avery can drive, but this is something he's wanted to try for a while. Something he had spent a lot longer than he's willing to admit watching on porn sites in his office on late nights.

The train jolts as the track curves, the young girl's ass pressing against his pelvis before she jumps and gives an apologetic look to him over her shoulder. Poor thing has no idea whats about to happen. Looking around to ensure everyone is busy conversing or looking at their phones, Avery makes his first move.

Today had been tiring. Your friend had needed help moving house, you had to go to a bar to pick up your ID that you had dropped, your shoes had gained a hole so they needed replacing, and now you have to go all of the way home and make a big dinner for your family coning over. So much to do, so little time. Wearing a skirt hadn't been a good idea for lifting your friend's couch, you're sure.

And as a hand trails up between your thighs and, a finger rubbing back and forth along your clothed slit, you're certain that you should have worn pants. As you go to turn and glare at the man behind you, he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close.

"Best not make any noise, girl," he whispers, "or I'll have to use this."

A tiny little jab is felt on your tummy, your eyes flicking down and seeing a knife in his hand. Your blood runs cold, especially as he starts guiding you to face the doors and and presses you up against them. No one can see you where you are. All they can see is the back of him. Now that you can't be seen, the knife comes up to your throat, pressing against the side as you observe the man's reflection in the glass. He's older, handsome but in this moment you don't care. You're just trying to weigh whether or not his knife threat is empty or not. The crazed look in his eyes says yes.

Your panties are pushed to the side as his fingers continue to explore, pushing inside of you and making you whimper. It feels good. The way his fingers stroke up against your walls, how they push up against that little spot that has your knees going weak. Using on of your hands, you cover your mouth and try to stay quiet.

"Good girl, so tight on my fingers," he coos, the praise shamefully making your cunt pulse in need. The next stop is so far away, you can't even wait for the train to stop so you can press for the doors to open and run.

When his fingers pumping in your pussy starts feeling incredibly slick, Avery pulls his digits out slowly. You don't need that much preparation, just enough to make it easy to slide in. Enough that you won't scream from pain. And hopefully you don't scream in pleasure.

He had purposely not worn underwear, pulling his hard cock out as soon as his fly is down. This is just as exciting as he thought it would be, the reflection in the glass doors telling him that no-one is looking at him and his little toy. Not even as he lifts the back of her skirt, pulls her panties far to the side, and slowly slides his dick into her sopping heat.

"P-please, sir," you whimper, standing on your tiptoes to try and ease the sensation of being full. He's so big, stretching you out in a way that still burns a little even with the preparation. It's stupid to think that a maniac that has gone this far will listen to your begging, but it's always worth a try. Even as you feel the knife press into your skin as you gulp.

The older man shushes you, gentle rocking his hips back and forth to get some stimulation. His jaw flexes, whether in annoyance at your speaking or from the effort to not grunt out, you can't tell. But he keeps going anyways, pushing in and pulling out in time with the sways of the train cart to ensure that no one gets suspicious of his movement.

Reluctantly, you hold onto his arm when it circles around your waist. You need to it stay upright, every weak point in your poor battered cunt being hit with every thrust and weakening your knees. Especially when the train takes a sudden turn, and your pushed up against the door with the man going as deep as he can before righting himself.

Avery doesn't even care is he's caught at this point. The location, the risk, the fantasy coming true is enough that such little stimulation is getting him off like nothing else. You smell rather pleasant, too. It's a cheaper scent, but it is one of the better ones. If you were to be his little trophy, to bring to events, he'd buy you the expensive alternative to whatever you've put on.

His grip on the knife tightens, images of you bound and ready to take him in his bed, being choked in the back seat of his car, begging him to cum while you hump his thigh - any other way he could use you flitting through his head. It's enough that his balls get tighter, a stuttered breath falling from his lips as he cums deep inside of your fluttering pussy.

You can't deny the rush you feel (along with a deep disappointment in yourself) knowing this stranger got off on using you like this. On feeling rope after rope of his hot seed paint your inner walls white. He even holds you still against his body for a few seconds after, placing a kiss on the top of your head. Then he pulls himself out, puts you panties back in place, and fixes himself after putting his knife away.

Another awkward five minutes pass before the next station pulls up, and you're eager to get off. Before you can run though, you feel the stranger stuff something into your coat pocket. When you stumble onto the platform, waddling over to the seats to wait for the next train, you cringe at the feeling of your underwear wetting from the sperm drizzling out.

Pulling out whatever he gave you, your jaw drops. Taking a second to count, then again to make sure, you don't know how to feel. £500, and a business card with a name and number on. That's what you're holding. Now to decide what to do with them.

[nonconstories]

Puppy Pile

Asher gets some aftercare from his pack. 

Click under the cut for making out, cuddles, affection, and lots of Soft Aftercare from Scary People

Word Count is 1.1k

At some point, Asher simply lost track of what time it was, or who was fucking him. He took everyone more than once; probably closer to four or five times each. And that was just between his legs. His mouth hadn’t been free for more than ten minutes at a time for most of the night. But finally, his pack seemed exhausted. Most of them had shifted down; just a splash of gold eyes and teeth left in the room.  

The living room was silent except for soft pants and the rare creak of furniture. Asher was on the coach, drooling lightly in between Kase and Ronan. They’d pulled out of him about a minute ago, leaving him tender and dripping cum. But they were pressed close on either side, keeping him warm and mostly upright. They’d even taken his collar off to nip at the vulnerable skin underneath. Across the room, Caelum was lying sideways on his armchair, gazing dreamily up at the ceiling. Avery and Jasper were curled up in one corner, cooing to each other as Jasper’s knot went down. 

“Who can move?” Caelum asked casually. “Because I don’t want to.” Automatically, Asher tried to roll to his feet. But Ronan grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back. 

“Pass!” Avery groaned, face buried in Jasper’s neck. 

“Make Kase do it,” Jasper said. His eyes were already closed, face buried in Avery’s dark auburn hair. 

“You’re the damn carrier elephant.” Kase’s voice was flat and sleepy, and his head dropped onto Ronan’s shoulder. 

“Please, I watched you chuck a restaurant dumpster across a road last year.” Despite his words, Jasper eased Avery off his chest and settled him on the couch they’d been on. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet. ���Okay. Okay. I can do this. It just feels like I’m dying…” 

“Kase, help him?” Caelum phrased it more like a suggestion; he really was tired. 

With minimal grumbling, Kase did it, shuffling after Jasper to retrieve the “downstairs mattresses”. Asher watched them from under lidded eyes. He liked this part of Spring. After a full moon mating session, the pack was too worn out and satisfied to be guarded and cruel. Instead, they were all warm and sleepy and wanted contact. Lots and lots of contact.   

Avery was being pouty. Asher had noticed that he got whiny and clingy after a long, rough fuck, wanted to just huddle on his boyfriend’s chest and ride the afterglow. Apparently noticing that, Caelum oozed out of his chair and pulled himself across the room to fall on top of him. Avery accepted him with a pleased sigh and a tight hug. Ronan, for his part, was nuzzling into Asher’s neck and stroking his chest and sides. 

“We break you, cutie?” He asked softly, kissing the back of Asher’s neck. 

“Yes,” Asher said, only a tad petulant. “I’m sore.” Not nearly as sore as he’d been after his first year. Not as shell-shocked either; his body was warm and fuzzy with cooling endorphins and the wolf was pleased to have been bred so well.  

“Two more nights...then we’ll give you a break for a week or so, ‘kay?” 

Jasper and Kase returned, each dragging two mattresses. The downstairs mattresses were spare ones that were kept locked in a storage room. Mostly they were for marathon orgies like this; after mating, the wolf wanted them together, cuddled up as a pack. Occasionally, they were for disaster situations, when they were teetering on war with another pack. At times like those Caelum would move them all into one central room until the threat passed. 

Furniture was pushed back and the mattresses were arranged in the empty space. Perked up by Caelum’s attention, Avery padded upstairs to start hauling down bedding. Kase tried to return to the couch with Asher, but Caelum caught his wrist and pulled him close. 

“Where’s my kiss?” He purred, and Kase blew out an exaggerated sigh. 

“Uhg. Fine. Clingy fucking weirdo.” They sucked face for a few seconds, and Asher was nodding off by the time Avery shuffled back into the room. The massive ball of sheets, blankets, and pillows was chucked onto the mattresses. 

“My job’s done!” Avery said cheerfully, and then crawled into Jasper’s arms. “Ronan’s turn to do stuff.” 

“I’ve got Asher!” Ronan whined, hugging him tighter. “He said he’s sore from taking our cocks all night, I’m comforting him!” 

“Caelum, make Ronan make the beds,” Avery said, still trying to get as close to Jasper as possible. “I got the blankets!” 

Caelum broke the kiss with Kase and looked crankily over at them. “Ronan,” he said tiredly. “Asher will be fine if you take three minutes to--” Kase pulled his head back and resumed kissing him. 

“Bastard,” Ronan said, with no venom in his voice. Gently, he rolled Asher to the side and got up. Asher slumped over and closed his eyes. 

When the beds were made up, the entire pack lazily crawled onto them and started arranging themselves. Asher was settled into the middle, wrapped in his own comforter. Ronan flopped down beside him, throwing his arm over his waist. “Miss me?” He teased, and Asher allowed his head to be tucked under Ronan’s chin.  

Jasper and Avery landed next to them with a thump, giggling into each other’s mouths. They nuzzled up against Ronan’s back. On the other side, Kase was on his back, sprawled out, eyes drooping. Caelum had his head on Kase’s chest, sharing his blanket. Asher closed his eyes, already starting to drift off. He felt hands on him; running through his hair, rubbing his back, petting his stomach and thighs. Kase and Ronan were the only ones close enough to kiss him, and they both did; pecking his temples and cheeks and shoulders. 

“Did good,” Kase murmured, nuzzling behind his ear. “Took us all so fucking good. Did everything we said and you hardly even bitched about it…” 

“You like it?” Jasper asked, scratching his short nails through Asher’s fluffy hair. “You made a lot of noise when you got knotted. And you came so many times.” 

“So hot,” Avery purred. “With your cute little howls and your tail wagging so hard.” 

Asher let them stroke him, let them praise him. Tomorrow it would start over again, and carry on the day after that. But he’d get a break afterwards, and this was his last year at the bottom. Next year, Caelum would find a new Omega. And it'd be his turn to put someone in their place during the moon. But for now, he was being praised and cuddled and adored. 

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

True Faith (Part 2.) (Favored Ones, Part 26.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: " Beware of no man more than of yourself; we carry our worst enemies within us. ." -  Charles Spurgeon

Part summary: To your disappointment, you didn't find Abby inside the aquarium. But you found someone else who reminded you of the things that happened back in Jackson.

A/N: This song (True Faith, Lotte Kestner’s cover) simply slaps and says all you need to know about this part in general. Hoooo, I am so excited to finally have Owen on my hands so I can do this disgusting rat dirty. (I LOVE miss Mel tho, she’s a precious small bean which needs to be protected)

Warnings: Depiction of torture, bone breaking, depiciton of blood and manslaughter, anxiety, rage, anger, a bit of fluff at the end.

Word count: 5.5 K

Tagging:   @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme​​ @peakymarvels​​ @davnwillcome​ @pickleriiick​ @jodiereedus22​ @gladiosamicitias​ @tamkashi​ @eternallyvenus​ @avengerssstuff​ @fangirl-inthe-us​ @avery-miller​ @mikah-writes​ @mad-hatter-98​ @sadiaafrin99​ @flavorishy

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Seattle, day three - afternoon:

With a small gulp, you opened up the door, walking into the main hall of the aquarium - to the place from when the arguing voices were coming from. And two people were standing in front of you. Owen and Melanie. You didn't even care that much about Mel, to be honest, but you stared Owen down with one of the most haunting gazes he'd ever seen on anyone. The man took in the sight of you as well. Both the people in the room stiffened, watching the unexpected visitor bump into the aquarium door.

After a moment, Owen recognized you. Of course, he did. And to be honest, panic overtook him, because he didn't know what should he do as you still kept on coming closer to both of them. He had a pregnant woman next to him whom he had to protect. And just from your look alone, Owen knew, that one of you will end up dead that day. One of you won't ever walk out of the door again and honestly, he hoped it will be you. He had too much to lose at this point.

But Melanie stepped forward, closer to you, making the eye contact going on between you and the man end abruptly as you turned your head to her.

"You're the girl from Jackson, aren't you?" - The woman sent a glance to Owen as she took in your appearance, trying to assure him about her actions. She was always nice to you, right? She didn't mean you any harm. Mel even escaped your friends before crying out their location out loud. If she did yell at the others, Jesse, Dina, and Diego would be most likely to be dead. But she didn't. From her perspective, you hadn't got the slightest reason to harm her.

Yet Owen could tell that something happened to you ever since you entered Seattle. Everyone felt the shift once they entered the city gates. Something changed inside of you, something subtle and unnoticeable at first, bringing the worst out of you. If he'd have to describe the person he was looking at, he'd tell about that youre tired, barely standing on your feet and empty inside. Like a machine. Your clothes were just drenched in blood, but it certainly wasn't yours since you've been looking more than fucking healthy.

Most people thought that descending to madness is a slow process. No. It was far away from a slow one. The only thing you needed was a push and shove to your back, sending you on your fall. If you weren't able to stop, you were soon about to hit the bottom. He knew that he can play psychological games with you later, but it would just make you angry at that moment.

Melanie was thinking about a lot of things - no matter how immature her behavior seemed to be as she slowly approached you. Were you there, in the aquarium, alone, or were your friends somewhere out there as well? Why didn't Alice bark at you? And what, for the love of God, were you doing in Seattle?

After the Abby fiasco, where almost everyone from their group got killed, they ran away - back to WLF and Seattle. Mel got more and more pregnant, so she wanted to be safe and she wanted Owen around. There were still the Seraphites and Abby things popping up around their small family, but it finally seemed that Owen set his priorities straight on Mel and their child to come. Which, on its own, would be great - if you wouldn't just appear there out of the thin air, covered in blood and mud from your head to your toes, drenched with rainwater.

Your eyes didn't move away from Mel as you watched every move she made, having the rusty pipe ready at any moment. You were quite sure you'll get to know where Abby is residing since you already had the benefit of surprise and Joel was standing just behind the corner. Something was telling you that these two knew exactly where their friend is. No matter what, you were determined to get the information out of them.

Yet as you stood in front of Owen, something oddly personal got a hold on you. It was the odd personal feeling Ellie told you about after what happened with Nora. You knew why you were there - to find Abby and sort the things out with her. To protect Joel, to protect Jackson. But... As you watched the man standing in front of you, and when you remembered how he helped Abby with torturing you, there was still a small hint of pain next to your heart.

All you could do was to take a deep breath to shush the feelings aways. Owen, no matter how much of a fucker he could be, hadn't got any personal beef with Joel and as far as you cared, he wasn't shooting at you. So far, you hadn't got the reason to kill him like a little bitch. But for the first time on your journey, you felt, that all it will take for Owen to set the bomb inside you off was just one bad move or a word you wouldn't like. At that moment, Melanie started speaking again, diverting your attention from the man.

"How-how did you find us? Are you okay?" - The woman asked, almost putting a hand on your shoulder just for you to dodge the touch, growling at it. With that, Owen noticed that you're visibly limbing. The Jackson took hold on everyone who's been there - both WLFs and you. It seemed to be fucking ridiculous. What did happen to them there? What logic reason allowed Mel to think that they had the right to feel bad about Baldwin? You almost started to accept Mel's embracing tone of voice until you realized that she's just trying to divert your attention away from Owen. No. You weren't that dumb.

"Where is Abby?" - You asked once again and looked around, searching the woman as if you were expecting that she'd appear out of nowhere like a magician. You'd be most likely having her forearm around your throat if she'd be at the aquarium, about which you concluded that Abby sure as hell wasn't there. It was just getting more and more tangled up. But Owen was a good find as well. Neither of them answered, but the woman was sneaking closer and closer to you. - "I asked you a question. Where is she?" - You pointed your pipe at her, having Owen panic in the next second.

You didn't know she was pregnant. How could? No matter how much he tried to ignore it, he knew the state you were in. The trance, numbness, and fearlessness of sorts, which enabled you to feel invincible. But for a terrible cost. It was a piece of your soul it took down with it.

Naturally, Owen tried to take his gun out, having you to swing your pipe at his wrist at a full force as you pushed Melanie on her back to have a good view of them laying on their back vulnerably. There was this disgusting sound of cracking of the small bones inside of his forearm, which you caused, as you swung the metal onto his arm again when as Owen checked up on Melanie's well-being.

"Wanna try another unplanned stuff or is this enough, huh?" - You asked, leaning your head towards your shoulder as you looked down on Owen. Immediately, he looked back, his breath was shallow and fast, making you aware of the fact that he must've been in pain. As when Joel stood up above Melanie, aiming his revolver onto her forehead as he shook his head at her, you stepped on Owen's wrist with your boot, making the man scream in pain.

"You know, one wise woman once told me this, and listen, you're going to love it." - A chuckle left your lips as you slowly crouched to hold the man's cheeks, turning his head as you. With that, you also put way more pressure into your feet. - "We don't wanna kill you... But we will."

With that, Joel hugged the man's wrist with a firm squeeze, making sure the fucker won't wiggle away when he dragged him to one of the walls where he was about to make sure Owen won't be a threat to you. And you just stood up above the woman, who was starting to sob as she realized they're probably in some knee-deep shit.

"We just wanna talk, ya know? And if you tell us what we want to know, we'll let you live. What do you say?" - The smile you gave her sent a shiver down her spine. When she met you in Jackson, you looked like a normal woman who has everything set straight in her head. Did they do this to you? Or, more specifically, did Abby fo this to you? - "Sounds familiar?" - You left her to be as Joel picked her up, but you went ahead and lit up one of Owen's cigarettes to calm yourself down.

"This can go down two ways, okay?" - You crouched between the couple - Owen was seemingly in pain because Joel did a hell of a good job with pressuring the small spot on his wrist and Melanie was crying. She wasn't too far from begging you to let them both go. Or to at least let them alive. - "You'll tell us and we'll let you be, we'll leave the aquarium. We won't come back after you. We will just find Abby and have a little talk with her. That's a simple way. But if you won't wanna tell us, well, that's another story." - You leaned closer to Owen, exhaling the smoke right into his face. - "The palm will stop hurting soon. No, it won't, but you'll get numb to the pain. I promise." - Owen grinned painfully when you gently patted his shoulder.

A sob made you realized that Mel started crying. Her expression was full of fear, the tip of her nose got read quickly as various red spots appeared on her face. That was when you felt Joel lowering his lips to your head. - "She's pregnant, 'kay? We can scare her to death, but leave her outta it. The fucker's all yours, baby girl, but don't forget that you're still only a human. This gal's terrified enough to tell you what you want off the bat." - Joel whispered to you. Quickly, your glance studied the back vest Mel had on. the pregnancy was hard to see since she was so small and tiny. You felt the man still standing so close your chests were practically touching, so you nodded.

Mel was out of your reach practically ever since that moment. A promise was a promise - and you just promised Joel that you won't hurt her. But you still could use the method Ellie had described you without hurting her - at least not physically. And you could still have so much fun time with Owen. Quickly, you tiptoed and stole a kiss from Joel, getting ready to get the information out of Owen on your own. If you'd like to, Joel would get the information out of the former WLF. Yet earlier last night, you were very clear about this being your moment. You were so close to reaching Abby, which was the only reason you came to Seattle. This guy seemed to knew where she went, or what she was doing, who she was with, or what were her intentions.

"You two have a funny idea of romantic, I tell you that." - Owen snickered when you lowered back on your feet, slowly letting go of Joel. The wrist couldn't be so bad after all. - "Need to catch two people to be turned on, or what you're about? He can't please you, or..?" - Owen continued with teasing you. Jesus, you knew what that was about. Owen was trying to be a big boy, to show you he's not worried about you or Joel in the slightest.

"You know who this is?" - You asked, pointing to Joel. - "Take a guess, come on. Who's this guy?" - This question made Owen furrow as you approached him, running your tongue inside your mouth, popping your cheeks out. The man just shook his head.

"He's the one Abby came for. Joel Miller, the one who was supposed to be killed in the cabin instead of me and Tommy. And this is why I'm here, Owen. It's the consequences of your actions that led me here." - Without letting him take another breath, you pulled his hair and pushed your knee into his nose, hearing an audible crash when his and your body collided. The blood ran down on his face in the next second, which had Mel crying out in fear.

"Let him be! Let him go, please!" - Mel moved her wrists around, trying to free herself, yet the presence of Joel was making her afraid. - "I'll tell you where she is, just don't hurt Owen, I beg you. I'll tell you everything you want." - "Mel, no." - Owen spoke out with trouble, having to speak and breathe with his mouth at once. But your attention was shifted back to Mel.

"Why do you fucking care? She's probably already dead anyway, we can't help her now!" - Mel exhaled, trying to clear her nose at least a bit. - "This is happening because of her. Every time something fucks up, Abby is behind it." - Wow, this took a different turn than you thought it would. Owen and Mel were arguing while you watched it happening and unraveling in front of your very eyes.

"She's your friend, she's someone I knew for years now, Mel. We aren't leaving anyone behind." - "My friend? Are you even listening to what you're saying, Owen? She isn't my friend, she's someone who you left to be with me and once I got pregnant, you went back to her. You think I don't know about what happened on the boat yesterday, huh?" - Mel rose her eyebrows, shutting Owen off completely. Neither you nor Joel dared to interrupt the situation, it was just too raw and to interesting to hear all of it. What happened yesterday? What was it?

"Abby is," - Mel suddenly turned her head to you, but Owen was quick to shout his pregnant girlfriend's name over the whole aquarium. Oh, so that was what happened on the boat. Holy fuck, both of them were just pieces of shits, weren't they? You chuckled at it, walking up to Owen quickly. - "Let her speak, will you?" - You mumbled, putting your boot on his knee as a warning. Now it was the time when Owen felt that he can maybe play the mind games with you.

"This isn't you, is it?" - At that question, you stopped everything you were doing. What the fuck was this question about? - "Think about that. Since you came to Seattle, something's wrong with your head, isn't it, huh?" - Owen gulped, speaking frantically. But weirdly, his words were making sense. - "But you felt it when you entered the first street and took a look around, right? I know the feeling. It's a mix of emotions. A mix of fear, despair, and rage. This is what the city does to the people in it." - Owen continued with his one-sided chit chat, but when your eyes traveled down to the foot leaned into his knee, he understood he's losing you.

"Before this, I was a Firefly. And she was one too. You've heard about Fireflies, right?" - The man asked quickly, making you engaged in the conversation again. - "Which base you were operating on?" - You mumbled back, responding to any of Owen's words for the first time. At this, he was quiet for a moment, your question catching him off-guard. - "Salt Lake City, ever since Jerry Anderson took it under his wings." - Owen explained quietly, seeing your face getting more colorless than before as you looked in front of you, reminiscing of something. That was when the idea first sneaked into his head.

"You've been a Firefly too, weren't you? Huh?" - Owen whispered, watching your response to what he was saying. Though he wasn't sure of it, he was pretty confident that he successfully crawled under your skin. At least a tiny bit. - "Spring. I was a part of the Spring group." - You mumbled as an answer. Oh. The Spring group was sort of a legend in the Salt Lake, just like the other three groups named after the seasons of the year. But Spring was the original, first experimental group of kids and teenagers about who Marlene knew she doesn't have enough time to train.

Thinking about Salt Lake was strange. Owen, Abby, Mel, Manny, and the rest of their friends spent there the best years of their adolescent lives. They learned a lot with the group in there, mastered new skills, but also had a lot of fun. Yet the truth was that because of the position Abby's dad had in the hierarchy meant that their group was... Highly benefited against the others.

When the whole era of Fireflies was coming to an end, Marlene had more kids and adolescents than adults. Sure, she could spend years in hiding while training soldiers out of the young people, but she had this feeling in her gut. She needed a plan, she needed to kick the remnants of government in their guts one more time before going to hell. It was her, who came up with the plan of sending adolescents to die. It was her idea to send them to blow up bombs inside the military zones of the big cities. And it was her, who was responsible for killing more than a hundred barely trained kids within one year before Joel Miller killed her in a cold blood.

Some of the people went into the suicidal missions without knowing what's awaiting them. If they didn't blow up during the attack itself, they were shot by the military. But as soon as people realized what was going on, they started to run out of the base. Some of the kids were later found dead, or infected. But there were maybe three of them that were never found. You certainly being one of them.

"I told you that we're the same, you and I. Both of us felt the shift inside when we entered Seattle, we were Fireflies, and you're a good person, just like me." - Owen tried to get you on his side, but your face was expressionless. You didn't care at this point. - "You're a good person, huh?" - Suddenly, you stomped your foot into his knee, feeling the bones slightly shift under your weight. So you repeated the procedure again and again. Melanie was the key after this moment, which you realized, but... Owen brushed over topics he shouldn't have talked about. The Fireflies, the things you felt inside your head... The fucker didn't have any right to talk about it.

As you walked for the pipe again, the high-pitched sound was in your ears again. Everything around you seemed to blur as the seconds passed, the beating of your heart got loud and raw. So much it was hard to hear your thoughts. It was the same feeling of chaos that ran through you when you and Ellie watched the Scars hanging the man on the tree. Your breath deepened and got louder again, your eyes were filled with hatred as you walked back to Owen. The sounds of your surroundings were blurry, almost unbearable for you - Melanie was screaming something on the top of her lungs, but English didn't make any sense to you at that point. Your eyes were solely fixed on Owen's bloody face.

"Come on, you don't wanna do this. You're not going to kill me." - The man snickered ironically, trying to pretend that he hasn't got a fucked up knee. Slowly, your eyes fixed on his face as you started to psychically disappear from the place you've been at. The Baldwin cottage started to appear, the interior surrounded every small piece of your fantasy, acting almost as parasite you couldn't get rid of. When you looked around, there was everyone - Nora, Mel, Owen, the dudes you barely remembered, the headphones girl, the Hispanic man... And her. Standing in front of you.

Slowly, Abby circled behind you and tugged your head back, making your neck stretch. She was looking down on you, then at Tommy, having this smug grin all over her disgusting face. This was before she touched you. These moments, in your perspective, were the most terrifying ones, because you didn't have an idea about what Abby will do to you. Owen was leaning into boxes, smoking while watching the scenery. - "Let her go, please, she ain't havin' any business in this." - Tommy begged while Nora taped his head to the wooden sink, making sure he can't turn his head around. - "I'm the one ya want, ya goddamn bastards."

"Are you sure about that?" - Abby asked mockingly, looking at the man. But at that moment, you started to mutter something to your friend out there. - "If you tell her anything, Tommy, I swear to God." - Which made Abby smile. The Hispanic man got up from Tommy, looking down at you. - "She's funny, I have to say. Who do you think she is? That old pervert's pet? He? Eres el pequeño juguete del Viejo, he?" - He lowered his head enough to study you up close, furrowing. As soon as he noticed that you're whispering something, he leaned even closer, trying to decipher the words. And against Abby's tight hold on your hair, you turned around to spit into his face, grinning as the Hispanic man almost slapped you like a little bitch you were. But all you got out of it was another strong pull on your hair as Abby pulled your head back into place, having a curse word escaping under your breath.

"Owen?" - The woman above you asked, playfully wiggling her eyebrows. Owen grinned back at her walking up to take her position - tugging on your scalp, holding both you and the chair in place. Just moments after that, Abby punched you in your face for the first time while Owen watched it, not trying to stop her or anything. He just made sure you cant wiggle out and that you're sat in the chair. That was when Owen fucked up for the first time. You'd never let anyone do such things to someone else while you'd be looking at it happening right in front of you. No.

You and the man were nothing alike. And this was the last mistake he'd ever made. Slowly, Baldwin's interior faded back into the wet aquarium one, but the world seemed to black away again as you prepared to swing the pipe again.

"Stop trying to tell who I am or what I want to do." - You answered, hitting his right side with the pipe. You heard his scream, yet it was the last thing you've heard before the world faded off to darkness once again. If Joel would as you what was happening, you wouldn't be able to answer. You simply didn't know. Muffled sounds filled your brain, but those were just unrecognizable sounds that connected to one audio track which you couldn't decipher.

When you've come back together, you felt a warm drop of blood running down your face whole your palm let the pipe fall on the ground, leaving only the metallic sound to fill the room. Mel was screaming hysterically, she was trying to free herself and you felt Joel's arms circling your shoulders as you both slowly sat on the ground. The man expected you to have a panic spot upon seeing what you've done to Owen, or at least to what had remained of the man. But your state was purely catatonic.

You just sat there why Joel was comforting you, your eyes couldn't leave the picture Owen's massacred body. His brain was splashed on the wall behind him, half of his skull was missing. You've broken every rib the man had, his bones in the legs were weirdly bent inward, his knees were smashed flat.

"What have you done? I've told you what you wanted to hear and you didn't let him go, as you promised!" - Melanie yelled at you, finally shifting your attention to her. What could you tell her to cleanse yourself? At least in your eyes? Was there anything to say at all?

"He didn't let me go either." - A mumble explained Mel what just happened as you picked yourself off the ground, untying her palms gently. If she wouldn't be as terrified as she was, she would try to strangle you, but instead of that, she sat there and massaged her wrists. - "You're free to go. Neither I nor my friends will try to hurt you unless you'll try to attack us again, okay?"

Joel was unsettled with your overall reaction. It seemed that you didn't even notice what you've done to Owen as if it was an everyday inconvenience and nothing more.

Mel nodded frantically, picking herself from you, covering her belly as she backed off out of the room. You've set on your way from the aquarium in the next minutes, not noticing that Mel snitched the map from the pocket of your backpack - Joel had the information you've come there for, but he knew that you won't like it.

Why did you feel so empty? You never imagined that this is how revenge would feel like. The man for what he deserved if you'd be his judge, but it didn't bring you any excitement whatsoever. Weren't you supposed to feel good by now? Shouldn't you feel easier when all was said done?

Why did you feel like a dead body just walking through Seattle? If any Scar would try to slice your throat at that moment, you wouldn't even flinch. No amount of murders of the bad people or torture could save your soul from the hell you've taken it into. No-one other than you could redeem your soul. But what if it was already damned? From the first moment, you've seen Abby and her friends as the bad guys who wanted to hurt everyone you loved and cared for. What if you were wrong? What if they were the good guys while you were the villains? Could you ever possibly walk on the path of the right or were you condemned to walk on the path of the wrong until the end of your days?

You knew Joel noticed how off you were. He noticed it before, especially when you practically made him fuck you like an animal, but he dismissed it as nothing serious at first. Yet now you showed him how wrong he was. Just two days ago, you couldn't understand how could he ever use two men against each other, and now, you've bashed another one's skull in cold blood. The descending to the abyss of madness was always easy, but on a place like this, all it took was one small pebble for your foot to slip on and after that, you were beyond saving.

"Are you alright?" - Joel asked as you walked through a big, empty, and quiet street near the theatre. At first, it almost appeared as if you misheard him because you grinned at the question. But after that, you looked at him through the rain, assuring you heard him perfectly. You took a moment to decide what to tell him before you stopped in the rain.

"Joel, I... At first, I thought that I'm doing this for you. You taught me how to love life, how to understand others. Then I thought I'm killing for you, Joel, I've brought so much death in here. I was guarding you from the dark of the night, watched as you slept, kept you on my radar all the time. And then you've disappeared, but I couldn't stop myself from doing all the terrible things." - The man watched your face and the expressions it was projecting, the whole fight inside of you could be basically heard. - "This isn't about you. It's all about me. I had started it, I wanted to revenge me, all I wanted to know was that Abby is dead so she wouldn't try to come for you again.

But then the first WLF came. Then it were the Scars, more WLF, Nora, Owen, the girl with the headphones... I took life from all of those people. And not because they were a threat to you, no, I had a feeling here." - You took his palm and pressed it next to your heart. - "I was so angry. I wanted to feel what revenge feels like, I needed all of it, do you understand me?" - And at that moment, you started crying, shaking your head.

"How was I supposed to know that it is all going to end like this? It's not just me who got fucked over - Ellie is fucked up as well, you hadn't spoken properly in the last couple of days, Dina is just quietly watching us going on one suicidal mission after another, not knowing if we're ever coming back. I... I maybe leave Jackson for good when we get back, Joel. I have this feeling that I don't belong there and maybe I'll be better off as a wayfaring stranger now I know I'm nothing more than a sadistic monster," - You went on, but at that moment, the man just caught your waist and kissed you out of blue, having you shut up immediately. It wasn't a proper response, but you were falling into hysteria and he didn't have the heart to slap you out of it.

When he moved from you again, you didn't know what to say. You just watched him without any clue of what to do now.

"Remember that one nite in Jackson when I asked you on a dance?" - Joel sighed, closing his eyes. - "You've told me that you'll go to hell for that. And all I said was that I'll meet you there. And I meant that, girl. Ya know, for some old man who was survivin' helluva long time out there, this was an everyday situation for twenty years. Killed or be killed? It doesn't matter. In the end, there'll be someone dead." - The man snickered at his own remark, speaking from experience.

"You're everythin' but a monster. You've just never been outside Jackson since you've grown up, that's all. You forgot what's like to be threatened every moment you're outside, what is the reality like now. Trust me, it's comfortin', knowin' you have your bed and your mug, knowin' you can brew yourself some coffee when you get outta bed - but that's not the life here. Trust me, it ain't easy, tryin' to be normal again. And I know somethin' 'bout that myself." - Joel nodded, clearly thinking about the things he's been through in the past couple of years.

Jackson was possibly the calmest and beautiful chapter of his life ever since Sarah was killed. And ever since the night you've told him what you felt for him and the other night Ellie told him that she's ready to try it all again, it all started to make sense. He couldn't lose you. Not when you were the only good thing he knew.

"I'll make you feel good, 'kay? I'll do everythin' I will be able to do to see you happy." - The man smoothed your hair off your forehead, kissing it. - "And if you won't feel that you can live in Jackson, we'll be leavin' together, you hear me?" - Joel assured as you hugged his waist, now crying into the crook of his neck.

At the moment, he was glad that Mel didn't know where Abby was. She just told you she's on the Seraphites' island just off the coast, but the girl was most probably dead at the moment. Searching for Abby would be like searching for a needle in a pile of hay. Which meant that you could go home. Finally.

[martelldoran]

i have too grieved a heart (redux)

Fandom: HP Characters: Lily/Narcissa, Snape, James, Mary, Dorcas 

NSFW: no

Summary: After the incident at the lake, Lily realises that more than just her relationship with Severus Snape is doomed. She now must say goodbye to Narcissa.

Read on AO3

May 1976

Lily Evans was many things. She was a witch first and foremost, and currently – though not for very much longer – in her 5th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was a proud Gryffindor. She was muggleborn, the first witch in her family. She was a talented potion maker, often spending her free time down in the dungeons mixing her brews and revelling in the multicoloured fumes. She was a dab hand at her charm work and liked to summon little sparkling lights to brighten up her study spaces. She was a passionate friend. She was bright, loved nothing more than spending her afternoons listening to records in the sun, and adored being outdoors surrounded by nature. Yes, Lily Evans was many things.

But at that precise moment, on a sunny afternoon in May after having just sat her Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L, she was absolutely fucking furious.

“Evans!”

It was the bellowing voice of James Potter. He had not stayed to try and remove Severus’s underpants as he had said, instead choosing to charge after her. Reaching the steps to the main door with her breath rushing and chest tight, she didn’t pause.

But then a hand closed around her wrist.

She wrenched herself away. Her wand was lifted and a spell teetered on the edge of her snarling lips as she spun round.

“Do not touch me!”

The boy staggered back onto the grass, hands lifted with the palms facing her. His mouth was a small ‘o’ shape and his hazel eyes were wide.

“Okay, I won’t.”

Her wand did not lower and neither did his hands. White knuckle fury still beat through her.

“I’m sorry, Evans. I went too far. I always go too far,” he said, his voice was tight, restrained as he measured each word. “Not that it’ll make a difference but I’ll apologise to Snape too, though I think I burned that bridge a long time ago.”

This last part he added as an afterthought, saying it more to himself than her. He shifted from foot to foot before slowly lowering his hands. The normally perfectly tousled black hair had fallen flat and was falling into his eyes but he didn’t try to fix it. Instead he continued looking right at her. It made him look like a little boy again.

“I am sorry. Truly. I hope you can see that, Lily. If not now, then later.”

He had said his piece. With a stiff, defeated nod of the head, he turned and made his way back to the lake. The fury had lessened somewhat. She watched his retreating back for just a moment before beginning her ascent up the stairs once again.

Half way across the Entrance Hall he made himself known to her, calling her name. Somehow having detangled himself from the clutches of Sirius Black, he must have skulked in a bush until he’d seen James leaving. Severus Snape’s normally pale, sallow face was flushed and his eyes darted around the hall, never resting on her face for long.

It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. And she was repulsed.

“Lily,” he began, taking a step towards her.

She retreated and raised her wand once more.

“Stay away from me,” she growled, in no mood to hear his excuses.

She knew what he’d say. She was a vengeful, wrathful god, ready to smite down those who had wronged her. She was Artemis condemning Actaeon to die by the jaws of his own dogs.

“Lily, please, I’m sorry,” he pleaded. He had his hands up like James but he took another step towards her. “I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out.”

“And is that supposed to make me feel better?” she snapped, wand trained on his face. “How many times have I heard you say you’re not like them, Mulciber and Avery? Then heard you defend them in the same breath? You agree with what’s being said, don’t you, by the one they call the ‘Dark Lord’. Maybe not all of it but there’s something in there isn’t there, that calls to you.”

Severus, inching forward, shook his head vigorously, lank hair dancing on either side of his face.

“No!” he wailed. “I don’t, I don’t think that, Lily. You’re my friend.”

She wavered. He was her oldest friend. He’d introduced her to magic, told her she was special, been there for every rant and every time her sister rejected her. Emboldened by her indecision, he took yet another step towards her.

A warning shower of red sparks streamed from her wand and crackled at the boy’s feet. He yelped and jumped away.

“I told you. Stay. Back. I don’t want you anywhere near me.” Her voice rose, ringing in the empty Entrance Hall. It was deserted, everybody had surrendered themselves to the sunshine. She hardened herself. “I see it now Severus, you’re one of them or if you’re not, you want to be. You and that fucking chip on your shoulder.”

She gave a humourless laugh, staring him dead in the eye. Her rage had not cooled but she was steady, held up by steel and smouldering fire.

“You’ve made it clear where your loyalties lie. And let me tell you now, if we come across one another out there” -- she gestured vaguely around the Entrance Hall – “I will not hesitate to cut you down.”

At this, he lurched forward, a cry on his lips. He tried to reach for her.

��Petrificus Totalus!’

The spell screamed within her mind hit him square in the face, freezing the boy’s pained expression to stone. He tumbled to the floor, landing frozen on his side. She was Medusa victorious

“I warned you. Come near me again and I won’t be so lenient.” In that moment with fire coursing through her veins, she meant every word of her threat.

Turning on her heel, Lily tore up the staircase. All in a rush, she could feel the weight of everything that had just happened come crashing down around her. Hot tears bulged in her eyes and a golf ball sized lump in her throat threatened to choke her. A bathroom, a bathroom was what she needed, somewhere nobody would disturb her. Without thinking she turned her course to the girls’ toilet on the second floor.

Bursting through the door with a loud, resonating bang, a painful, heavy sob wracked her body. She stumbled towards the nearest stall and locked herself in. Animalistic wails tore from her mouth and echoed off the tiled walls. It was like her grief had manifested into a physical form and was joining her for a macabre duet.

Hugging herself, she crumpled to the floor. With her back to the door, she leaned her head back against the wood and let the grief she felt come in waves. How had it come to this? All she’d wanted to do was help her friend and now here she was.

Lily had been called a Mudblood before. More times than she truly cared to count. But never had she imagined, even in her wildest dreams, that she’d hear that word come from the mouth of someone she considered her friend, let alone said with such venom.

Tears slid in a continuous stream down her flushed cheeks. They hung off the end of her chin and pooled in the hollows of her neck and collarbones. Slowly, a damp patch grew down the front of her robes but she paid it no mind. Lily was a raw, gaping wound and nothing else mattered but her pain. Her mind was a jumble. The scene by the lake replayed in a hideous loop. Then it was the argument in the Entrance Hall. Severus’s pained expression was seared onto the back of her eyelids and her words echoed in her ears.

How long did she sit there sobbing? She cried and she cried and then, when it seemed like she had no more tears left, she cried once again. Time had no meaning in that cramped toilet stall. It could have been seconds, it could have been days, she didn’t care. Noone would come in here and disturb her anyway. They would hear her howls, assume it was Moaning Myrtle off in one of her moods and steer well clear.

Eventually, however, she stilled and the tears dried up. There was a certain calmness to her now. With a dull realisation, she was unsurprised about Severus. Some dark part of her already knew that he was lost. He wanted to be the best, he always had. And if following this man got him what he wanted then so be it. He would do it.

Ever since they were children, there had been this urge to prove himself and to rise above everyone else. It came out when they raced across fields and threw stones into a lake. It came out during exams and every time there was a potion or poison to be brewed. Glory would be his one way or another.

“Lily? Lily, are you in here?” Dorcas Meadowes’s husky, mellow voice cut across her reverie. She hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Her voice was thick and raspy with disuse.

“Will you come out? We’re worried about you.” She was closer now, right outside the door.

“I can’t. I never want to come out,” she moaned. Her face hurt. There was no need to look in a mirror to see how awful she looked, she could feel the swelling around her eyes and cheeks.

“Don’t say that, come on, open the door,” Dorcas reasoned, giving the handle a gentle shake.

When no answer came, there was a weary sigh and she murmured, “Alohamora.”

Lily shifted her weight off the door just enough so that she wouldn’t keel over when her friend opened it. Dorcas knelt next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. The redhead leaned in, the familiar scent of wood smoke and amber in her nose. Dorcas’ shirt was open at the collar - her blue Ravenclaw tie undone and hanging loose around her shoulders – exposing the dark skin of her throat.

“Let’s go.”

Not wasting any time, Dorcas pulled Lily up by her armpits and observed the damage. Her glittering black eyes skated over her from top to bottom. She pursed her full lips together and tsked loudly.

“Oh dear. You truly look awful, you know that,” she said, a sad but understanding smile on her face.

A sniffle and a half-hearted quirk of the lips was all the answer she received. With a sigh, Dorcas propelled her from the bathroom. Quick steps and a firm hand on the small of her back guided her through the corridors. They didn’t meet a soul, the castle was almost deserted. Through the fog clouding her brain, Lily registered this and was thankful. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to see her, a Prefect, like this.

“Oh, good heavens! Is everything alright Miss Evans?” It was the deep, plumy voice of the Fat Lady. She ignored the portrait’s question.

“Pygmy Puff,” she mumbled. Somehow, from somewhere, a new wave of tears rushed up and threatened to spill down her cheeks.

The portrait swung open but Lily didn’t move.

“Marlene is waiting for you, honey. Go on in,” murmured Dorcas, giving her a gentle push.

Silently, she climbed through the portrait hole, leaving Dorcas to make her way back to the Ravenclaw common room, and was immediately met by Marlene. She appeared in a whirlwind of blonde hair, ready to ferry Lily up to their dormitory. The common room was full, that much she knew, and she could tell that every single pair of eyes were trained on her as a heavy silence fell. But she was too tired to care. She wanted to go to bed.

“Is Remus here?” she rasped.

Marlene nodded and pointed to the cluster of armchairs by the fire where all four of the Marauders were staring at her. All but Peter Pettigrew were unnaturally still, caught in the spell of Lily’s dishevelled appearance. Peter couldn’t seem to stop himself from twitching, fidgeting with anything he could lay his chubby hands on.

In a daze, she approached the four boys. Although she could feel James’ eyes boring into her, taking in every single red blotch and the puffiness of her face, she refused to look at him. If she did then there was no way to stop the tears that were once more lingering right beneath the surface.

“Remus, I can’t do my rounds tonight. Can you cover?” Her voice was dead, a thick monotone that didn’t sound like her.

“Uh, yeah, yeah of course I can. Whatever you need.”

There was a slight pause before he asked, “What will I tell Cissa?”

But she had already turned away, Marlene her golden shadow.

“Whatever you want. I don’t care,” she sighed.

In that moment, she didn’t. She couldn’t bear to think of Narcissa, with her star bright eyes, gleaming hair and the purest of pureblood status. It hurt too much.

Never before had the walk up to her dorm seemed so long. Every step was an effort. It was like her bones had been replaced with lead and added weights had been strapped to her ankles and wrists for good measure.

The quiet of the dorm was a blessing. Not bothering to undress, Lily kicked off her shoes and collapsed into bed. Marlene perched on the edge. Her blue-grey eyes were stormy. Words pressed up against her lips, clamouring to be released but she kept her mouth shut tight. She simply stroked Lily’s hair, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead head, told her to get some sleep and bade her goodnight. With a flick of her wand the curtains to her four-poster shut, enclosing her in blessed darkness.

It didn’t take long for sleep to claim her.

When she awoke, the grey light of the pre-dawn leaked between the curtains of her bed and the familiar snuffles and even breathing of her roommates cradled her sleep addled mind. She was still in her robes from the day before, rumpled and creased. Her sleep though deep had clearly been plagued by ceaseless tossing and turning. Mouth dry and tasting stale, Lily sat up and pawed at her still puffy face. The damage of the day before a cruel mask she would have to wear for a few more hours yet.

Lily slid from bed as silently as she could, gathered her wash bag and towel, and slipped into the stone stairwell. Before the cold could seep from the flagstone through her socks to chill her feet, she flited upstairs to the wash room. Peeling off her soiled robes, she shivered as the cool air met slid over her bare skin.

The shower’s warm water was bliss. It beat the last of sleep’s cobwebs away, leaving her mind clear and focussed. Of course, all she could think about was the previous day’s events. If it hadn’t been clear to her before, it was now. For some witches and wizards, it didn’t matter what she did or who she became. It wouldn’t matter if she was the most powerful witch or the most talented. For those few people, she would be a Muggleborn before all else, a parasite siphoning off magic from those who they deemed needed, no, deserved it more.

Names flashed in her mind: Rodolphus Lestrange, Evan Rosier, and, of course, Bellatrix Black. Narcissa’s sister. Her sweet, darling Narcissa who she loved so dearly. Bellatrix’s name appeared in The Daily Prophet almost daily now. The young witch made no attempt to hide her name or her loyalties. The more chaos and misery she sowed the better. It was reported just yesterday that she was single-handedly responsible for over 80 muggle deaths and had seriously injured several muggleborn witches and wizards over the last few months. Details on the way she conducted her business were scant but gruesome. Torture was her art and her greatest pleasure. After all, what information could a muggle possibly give her? No, it was all a game.

As she pondered these thoughts, Lily scrubbed herself clean with care and precision. She dragged the sponge across her skin until she was pink and raw. A growing sense of dread grew in the pit of her stomach and settled there, rock hard and heavy. There was something she knew she had to do.

She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread for the rest of the morning. It was there while she dressed, and crowded her while she ate a solitary breakfast in the Great Hall. Her owl, Artemis, somehow knew she was there and brought her that morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet but she couldn’t bear to open it. She didn’t need to know about the latest terrors and growing anti-muggle sentiment that was growing in certain wizarding circles. Any other morning it wouldn’t be an issue, but after the previous afternoon’s excitement, she could live without it.

Th first of her friends to make their way to the Great Hall that morning was Mary MacDonald. Mary had not changed much in the five years she had known her. She was still small and slight and still wore her hair in a blunt bob with a heavy fringe that hung into her eyes. When she rose to meet her, the Hufflepuff embraced Lily without a word. They stood like that, intertwined, for several minutes.

“Yesterday was a bit shite, wasn’t it,” said Mary, stepping back from their hug.

Lily chuckled.

“That’s something of an understatement.”

Mary inclined her head and shrugged one shoulder.

“Look, I know that Severus has been your friend for a long time, but maybe it’ll do the two of you some good to have some distance? Let the dust settle. He can maybe get his priorities in order,” she offered.

Lily wasn’t so sure but she nodded anyway.

“I meant to ask,” she said, with the most unsubtle change of subject known to witchkind. “How did Dorcas find me?”

“Oh, well, we looked for a while but couldn’t find you so we asked Remus, who asked Sirius, who asked James and for some reason, he knew that you were in the bathrooms,” Mary explained. “I don’t know how he knew. He disappeared up into his dormitory and when he came back, he knew where you were.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Lily murmured, unable to work out how on earth James Potter could have worked out where she’d been hiding.

After a few more minutes, Lily left Mary in the Great Hall and hurried up to the owlery. She scratched out a quick note and sent Artemis out to find the addressee.

As she watched her owl swoop through the sky, she felt a tremor of trepidation through her body.

A rap on the door alerted Lily to her presence. She swept into the spare classroom with a flourish, her long, white blonde hair swishing as she twirled. Star bright eyes twinkled at her and a broad smile adorned her face. She was as brilliant as a winter’s day and just as beautiful. Lily’s heart wrenched and she longed to fall into her embrace, to lose herself to a thousand kisses.

Narcissa pulled her close before she could say a word. She cupped her face, one hand slipping through her hair, and kissed her deeply. Lily could feel her resolve weakening with every second. All too soon, Cissa pulled away with a coy smile.

“Hello darling.” Her voice was warm, an undercurrent of excitement running through her words.

Her head was cocked to the side and she ever so gently pushed a stray strand of hair away from Lily’s face. The redhead shifted out of the embrace needing to put space between them. If she felt her touch again then she knew any remaining resolve would leave her.

“We, uh, we need to talk,” Lily mumbled.

“Uh oh, that sounds ominous!” she laughed, her smile hadn’t faltered for even a second.

“This has to end.”

The words were out like a bullet train.

Narcissa let out a cold, humourless laugh.

“No. Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t ending. Lily, come on, this is us,” she insisted, reaching to take her hands. But Lily avoided her touch.

Hurt flashed across Narcissa’s face. It was only for a second then a mask of cool collectedness covered it.

“Is this because of what happened at the lake?” she asked, very matter of fact. “Snape is an idiot. Mulciber and Avery are rubbing off on him.”

She was being dismissive. Of course she was. It was her go to defence mechanism.

“Well, yes. They are. That’s part of the problem. What he said, there are others who think that as well.”

“And they’re wrong.”

“Even when it’s the likes of your family saying it, Cissa?”

There was a beat where neither of them said anything.

“Oh, come on, Lily! Just because my family runs their mouths about Muggleborns and blood purity doesn’t mean I believe that nonsense.”

Lily wanted to stop this. She wanted forget about the lake, the war, and the man hellbent on securing pure blood supremacy but there was no turning back now. Even if she wished it with all her heart, she couldn’t go back to how it was before. If there had been such a thing as before.

“Bellatrix isn’t just running her mouth though is she. She’s killing people Cis. She’d kill me too.” The words faltered in her mouth, turning to ash.

She couldn’t keep looking at Narcissa. She shone too brightly.

The blonde shifted, stiffened.

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But you told me yourself what she did to Dromeda. Why wouldn’t she do the same to you?” Lily reasoned in a quiet voice. Her eyes were trained on the hem of her robes. “I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. . . And I don’t want to get hurt.”

The pause was bloated, filling with unsaid words, waiting to burst open like a sore.

“That’s bullshit Lily and you know it. We could run away. I could protect you.”

“I know that you would try but your loyalty is to them, not to me, and I wouldn’t ask you to choose. But, I can’t be with you like this. Your family would never accept me, never accept us. It was always a fool’s game to think otherwise.”

“You know what, Lily, you could have been a Slytherin with that attitude,” Cissa snapped, lips pursed and jaw jutting.

“Yeah, well we both know why that didn’t happen.”

“There are Muggleborns in Slytherin!”

“Oh, and Elijah Robertson’s head just magically cracked itself open on the flagstone did it?”

Narcissa drew up short, whatever she was about to say died in her mouth. And whatever it was must have left a sour taste judging by the way her face twisted.

“N-nobody knows who did that.” She faltered, voice meek and unsure. It was an unsettling role to see her play.

“Yeah. Sure. But it’s an open secret. Everyone knows that it was Dolohov and his goons,” Lily scoffed. She could feel her ire beginning to rise, heart racing. Before she could argue any further, she added, “I’ve made up my mind. I can’t be with you anymore.”

With a huff, Narcissa slumped against a desk.

“I don’t want this to end.”

It was a whispered admission. Tears glimmered at the edges of her star-bright eyes and there was an almost imperceptible wobble to her bottom lip.

“I know. But it has to.”

Lily hated seeing her like this, hated the fact that it was her fault. She shifted, twisting her hands together. They sat in silence once more. There had been a seismic shift between them and now they stood on opposing sides of an endless ravine. There was nothing either of them could say that would bring the other back.

“So, that’s it,” murmured Narcissa. Her tears remained unshed and her light had dimmed. Their eyes met and Lily thought she saw the faint ghost of a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I don’t suppose I get one last kiss?”

There was no question. Pushing off the desk she had been leaning against, Lily closed the gap between them in two strides. The pull was as magnetic as it had always been. With gentle hands at her waist, she pulled the blonde girl into a standing position. The rich silk of her robes was slippery under her fingers; its familiarity calmed the fluttering of her pulse. The expensive perfume Narcissa so loved to wear tickled her nose as they drew closer.

Their lips brushed together like a sweet whisper. Again and again and again. They were all featherlight touches.

Until they weren’t.

They were a thunder storm breaking through a summer drought. Mouths hot and bruising, they drank each other up. Hands tangled in hair and grabbed at clothes; all Lily wanted to do was lose herself in this last fevered embrace. She gripped the girl tight, crushing her against her as if they might sink together and never be apart. Heart pounding and blood rushing in her ears, her mind was a tumultuous sea of everything Narcissa.

But, with time, as with all things, they slowed. Foreheads pressed together, still breathing each other, their eyes locked together. A pink flush had crept into the blonde’s cheeks and her lips were cherry red. They stayed that way until their breathing stilled and became even once more.

It was Narcissa that pulled away first, smoothing her hair and straightening her clothes. She now avoided Lily’s gaze, trying to compose herself.

Lily said nothing. What more could she say? Anything else would be an insult.

Cissa brushed and brushed and brushed down her robes but the wrinkles in the silvery silk would not disappear so easily. She paused, head bowed, and sighed. When she raised her chin once more her jaw was set and eyes tight, but that practised mask of cool collectedness was full of cracks.

“I will see you around, darling,” she said, squaring off her shoulders and drawing herself up to her full height.

With a flash of a smile and an airy wave of the hand, she spun on her heel and left. It was only as the door snicked shut that Lily allowed her tears to come. From some unknown reserve, the tears came and fell silently onto her cheeks. She had never felt more alone.

[justjessame]

Avery Emerson Clay: Could I Interest You In A Nice Beating Instead?

I know what most of you are thinking - if Clay were in my position (or Dad, or Hell even Jake) they would probably NOT rush into poking and then fighting the bear that tried to do a reverse Goldilocks in my bed, but you know what? I’m NOT Clay OR Dad OR Jake for that matter. I’m Avery Emerson Von Houton Clay (yes, I DID go full heiress title) and I was PISSED off.

“You’re adorable,” Max scrunched up his nose as he took in me standing next to MY bed, feet shoulder width apart, ready to take on his pansy ass. “I’m not going to fight you, Avery. No matter how badly you want me to.” I glared down at him. “Come here, sit down, you’re cute, but you really don’t want to try me, sweetheart.” He actually patted MY bed, like I was a puppy and he OWNED it. “Come along.” If my eyes got any narrower, I was pretty fucking certain I would be as nearsighted as Jake without his glasses.

I considered attacking him on the bed, but then took a deep breath and realized that the entire point he was making was that we were ALIKE. OK, so Avery, let’s try to BE LESS like this dick. Let’s try to tap into the other part of our genetic makeup - the commando part. Time to play WWFCD? (What Would Franklin Clay Do?) Either the OG or the Sequel would probably try to gather more intel, which meant, as much as I’d rather rip my own limbs off and bleed out - I guess I’d be joining Max in my bed again. Fuck.

Relaxing out of attack mode, I sat down on the edge of my bed. “Avery,” Max sounded like he was bleeding patience and I wished like hell that he was just bleeding. “That doesn’t look very comfortable. Come now, up here next to me.” He patted the spot next to him and I contemplated biting him, since he was treating me like a bitch, why fucking not? He grinned and I had a dark feeling that he knew what I was thinking. “Let’s save the biting for when we’re a little more comfortable with one another, shall we?” I suspected that he was trying to sound seductive, just like Mom had asked if he’d been in the elevator, but all I could think about was how he was a shitty substitute for Jake.

Play along, I told myself, and scooted up to sit next to him against my headboard. “Better?” I asked, and fought against flinching when he reached out and took my hand in his. Linking our fingers, I allowed it, but again his soft and perfectly manicured hands were a far cry from the hands that I wanted touching me. “Will you tell me where my cats and dogs are now?”

“Your pets are fine, Avery.” Again, like with Rose he acted like they didn’t matter - to him they didn’t. “A sedative that I had triple checked by a very expensive vet was added to their food and water - they’re in kennels and they’re being monitored by the best that money can pay for.” But not by me, I thought, and they would be terrified. “You’ll be reunited with them, I promise.”

“Mom and Dad?” My mom’s bracelets, that she still wore after ALL these years, came to me in another flash of terror. Please don’t let this idiot have given her something worse to wear instead. And Dad? God, please don’t let him be TRULY retired.

“Again, safe. Quiet and tucked away.” His fingers were tracing my skin, and I felt like I was being touched by something slithery and gross. “Your father is quite the fighter - I can see where Clay gets it from.” A twist of fear hit me low. “Tranq darts can stop the biggest badasses in their tracks, lucky for him.” Fuck. “As for Clay - and his team.” The icy chill of real terror creeped down my spine. “You have to know, Avery, I cannot let them live. Any of them.”

I thought about what he was saying, what he wasn’t saying as well - while he was touching me and considered Clay and Dad - how we worked in the library even while this asshole and his dunces listened in. I’d done it, clearly, I’d pushed hard enough to get him out in the open. Sadly it worked a little TOO well, but what could I do to fix it?

“Tell me about yourself?” His jacket, folder, file - the intel on Max was miniscule. But he wanted me to think we were MEANT to be - destined - soulmates, right? So prove it. “Who are you?”

“Me?” I nodded, twisting our hands so I was touching HIM now. Tracing the lines of his veins, the lines that the so-called psychics at the carnivals would have called his life lines or love lines, trying to show him that I was gaining interest in US. “What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from? What do you do? Who ARE you?” I looked up at him from under my lashes, keeping myself from batting them - let’s not overplay our fucking hand here. “If you want me to believe that you WANT me, Max, then I should know YOU, shouldn’t I?”

He studied me, clearly looking for any sign that would trigger his bullshit meter, but you know what? Max wasn’t a Clay and he clearly didn’t have the internal lie detector that we were born with, because instead of tossing my ass onto the floor and getting the fight started, he cupped my cheek and started talking. Fucking amateur.

I listened to every single word that Max said, and honest to fuck, once I got his ass talking he seemed to LOVE the sound of his own voice. The epic tale of where Max began and ended went on and on and on - I nearly went fucking batshit listening. But I had to, because I knew, from being raised at the elbow of Franklin Clay Senior and following Franklin Clay Junior around like a puppy begging scraps that every single target will eventually tell you exactly where their weakness lies - all you have to do is LISTEN.

I wasn’t only looking for how to hit him hard, mostly because I knew that if I could do what I really was working toward - Clay would do that - but I wanted to know if MY actual plan would work. If what I wanted to try would have any type of chance in the flames of hell of working. And as I listened, I thought that it might, if only to save one - but I only had to save ONE. Because I knew if I could save ONE - like dominoes the others would follow.

“Pooch,” Max’s eyes locked on mine, I’d actually gotten closer to him by the end of his tale and I was almost curled onto his lap - my hand on his heart and our faces inches apart. “He just became a father.”

“I know,” he looked at me as if he was waiting for me to explain why I’d bother telling him something he knew about and could give two shits about.

I bit my lip and let my fingertip trace his lower lip. “I think it would be incredibly sad for his son to grow up without a father -” he started to argue, but I stopped him by tapping his lips with that same finger. “Aisha is after you for having her father killed, isn’t she?”

Max considered what I was saying. “She’s an adult, Avery, Pooch’s son is an infant.”

“Infants grow up,” I murmured, letting my eyes drift to his lips as if I wanted so badly to taste him - ew - but I needed to keep up the game. “And when boy children grow up knowing their fathers were killed in less than fair conditions -” Plant the seed, water it, wait for it to take root.

He grew quiet and I waited for a few beats, but I knew eventually I was going to have to sweeten the deal. As badly as I wanted to NOT have to. “You think that Pooch’s son could be a threat one day,” before he could consider killing another child, I nodded and then moved in, moving my finger and nudging his nose with mine. Letting our lips meet, taking him off guard, I shut my eyes and let him take over.

I never quite understood that old quote “Shut your eyes and think of England.” Yeah, I get it now. It wasn’t that he was a bad kisser, it was just that I’d rather kiss the ass end of one of my goats. But I had to pretend, and fake it like I’d never in my life faked anything in my life. Giving a slight moan, letting my tongue touch his, even nipping his lower lip - but the entire time I was also telling my stomach to NOT empty into his mouth.

When I pulled away, panting a little heavier than I needed to, Max looked at me like he was thinking he made the right choice and I was thanking God that he was an idiot.

“I think that if you gave Pooch his family and an incentive to live happily ever after with them, he’d walk away and never glance back at you or this entire fucking situation,” I whispered when we both were ‘recovered’ from our first kiss. “Please?”

“Are you bargaining with me, Avery?” Max was smiling, not smirking, not mocking - he was just asking me if that was my game.

“Yes,” I answered with a nod. “I am, because if you want me to walk off with you into the sunset - after you kill my brother and -” I ignored the flash of pain I felt at the thought of Jake. “his team, then ONE new father shouldn’t bother you.”

“One new dad,” his thumbs were sliding under my eyes and I waited. “Pooch for Clay?” I waited. “You would give up your own brother for him?” I didn’t answer. “Alright.”

“OK,” I agreed, swallowing and hoping against fucking hope that Pooch would understand my fucking plan without hearing it.

“But,” he drew my attention back to his face. “We have to finalize it -”

I nodded, thinking we’d shake hands or whatever - I’d sign something stupid.

I wasn’t expecting him to start pulling my tank straps off my shoulders, his lips meeting my skin. “Consummating our relationship is the perfect way to do that, isn’t it, Avery?” FUCK. Literally.

[vios-rockland-corner]

Rumors of Rockland: Article 1

You’re new in town and about to start up work soon.  Still settling in, you’re looking around Rockland to find a good hang out place.  Someplace where you could just observe what goes on around you.  A place to get your bearings.

Rockland’s funny though.  You can’t help but feel this weird sense of foreboding sometimes.  Not to mention, there’s quite a few colorful characters about.  But that just makes it more intriguing, right?

[Full spoilers below for RoR: Article 1]

The Rumors of Rockland minigames are a continuous installment of visual novels by @runawayoutlaw and @rottenbonethief (@sugarhazard may have his own characters and art appear from time to time).  The MC in these games is the same character every time, making this an ongoing discovery from one set of eyes.  A nice little way to peak into the oddity of Rockland and its inhabitants from a much safer perspective than other games will allow. 

This installment series will also be part of the future 5 year in-game time skip.  Not only will the MC get to meet the characters when they’re younger, but this means they become a more fixed resident themselves and get to see what happens to many of these characters later on in life.

Story

Already with the release of the first article, the MC is finding Rockland to be anything but bland.  First we have a very brief run-in with two bartenders.  One who literally ducks out for a break before the MC can get a word in, and one who appears much friendlier (for the most part) but is also occupied soon-after.  Then we get startled by a loud commotion of a very unhinged man oozing violent thoughts as well as being on the verge of tears as his friends attempt to calm him down.  Then we get caught staring and meet the world’s friendliest drug dealer and his very horrified friend who just wishes.he.would.stop.  Have to say, the situation oddly does get the MC much more relaxed after the previous man’s outbursts.  With all this excitement, the MC just barely notices one bartender come back wiping blood off his cheek.  But after everything else that’s happened, the sight just seems to get pushed to the back of the MC’s mind.  Nor does the MC seem so perturbed with the sinister tone in the bartender’s voice.  It doesn’t dissuade you from making a return to the establishment. 

Quite a roller coaster there.

Rockland’s a small place, small enough apparently where all the locals know each other.  Several of these characters bring this up and it’s even hinted that…may not be to your advantage.  If you’re not from around there, they’ll spot you in a crowd.  As friendly as these people seem, we the audience unfortunately know better than the MC does in this situation.  We know there’s disturbing and sinister characters lurking about. 

A new face means potentially two things for locals:

1) You’re either far from home or you’ve yet to ingrain yourself in the community. 

2) You may very well BE alone, without any connections in town. 

In a normal sane town, that just means the newbie has to learn to acquaint themselves with people and the townsfolk have to come to accept the new face as a resident.  Just the normal challenges of joining a new community.  Here in Rockland though, there are folks who likely share a friendly smile because their excitement over a new face comes from a very dark place.  After all, what kind of people make better victims than those so far from help?

 I’m sure not everyone that steps foot in Rockland has the unfortunate fate of going missing.  It IS a tourist town, and that’d bring a bad reputation if no one made it out alive.  But every now and then the darker folks won’t be able to contain themselves, and just decide to pluck some poor individual from the crowd.  Such events probably don’t catch the outside’s eye enough (or soon enough) to cause mass alarm.  But it happens just enough to make Rockland a very special kind of horror.

So if you can’t hide among the locals, what’s a new person to do?  One, be incredibly lucky I’m sure.  Two, get to know the right people.  I like to think there’s a “judging” or “probationary” phase for anyone new who enters Rockland.  How long this goes for, who knows.  If integration is successful, I’m sure the chances of survival shoot up much higher for the newcomer.  It might also be possible that killers may not want to target locals because not only will those faces be missed IMMEDIATELY, but who knows what other families or groups you’ll upset if you target the wrong person. 

Characters

So how about the very first characters the MC meets here?

Not much we learn about Foal.  The finger up seemed like a specific signal to Whesker though.

You’ve got the bartender Whesker.  Seems like a friendly and jovial guy for the little bit of time you get to spend with him.  But he also is one of the first to warn you about telling people you’re new and don’t know anyone here.  There are hints of something dark within this man.  It’s difficult to say though what he thinks of the MC.  Is he subtly giving them a warning here about how dangerous Rockland is?....Or does he already view them as a victim?

Then, you’ve got the violent man Avery.  It’s plain to see this is a man you do NOT want to get in the crossfire of.  He’s very unstable and his stress gives him the urge to grind anything to dust as a way to deal with his emotions.  For anyone who’s played the Misfits: First Blood demo…you know these threats are not empty.  He very much has the capacity to kill someone, no matter how little their offense is.  Luckily, he’s accompanied by his friend Callum who seems to not only know Avery well enough that he’s spared getting a punch in the face, but looks like he’s had to handle a situation or two like this before.  Avery is terrifying, but also tragic.  We don’t know what he’s done here, but from the demo we can take some pretty good guesses.  What’s interesting is that he KNOWS that stuff isn’t okay though and doesn’t actually even want someone to say it is.  He’s self-aware.  But he seems to have no control over his emotions.  There’s also a hint that alcohol was a factor here. 

It seems that Avery also has someone who he doesn’t want to disappoint, but the things he does would break their heart.  The man we see depicted in the bar I think is someone who is their own worst enemy.  He might have difficulty controlling his emotions and/or actions (ex. excessive drinking), but he knows what he shouldn’t do and wants to be better.  It’s a curious thing…can he get better?  Even some of the people who know him have their doubts.  We know Avery’s coming full blast in the “Welcome to Rockland” game, but it’s possible we may ONLY see his worst in that.  With more RoR installments, perhaps we’ll get to see if Avery ever gets better…or worse.

One problem that Avery may have is that he lives in Rockland of all places.  It’s possible that he gets away with a LOT more than a normal criminal does because things like that are considered the norm in Rockland, or because they get swept under the rug.  It’s not incredibly clear, but it’s possible that Whesker had been called out back specifically to clean up Avery’s “mess.”  This is a problem because it means Avery lives in a place where there are little consequences to his actions.  If you go so long without punishment, it’s hard to find a reason to reign yourself back in.  Even his friends like Callum worry that they may be enabling his behavior.  It’s difficult when you know the good sides of a person because you feel less inclined then to berate them when they mess up.  But sometimes you have to call someone out on their behavior, even if it hurts their feelings.  With Avery, I don’t know if yelling at him would be a good idea though, considering how dangerous he can become.  Tough situation.  If you can’t tell, I have mixed feelings about the fellow since I know his violent nature, but something about seeing him helpless here was a little sad.

Finally, you’ve got the drug deal Tyler.  Literally, probably the nicest drug dealer you could ever meet.  Certainly an eccentric fellow, he’s oddly far less frightening than someone like Avery.  His friend Dylan may be horrified by Tyler lacking any means to be discreet, but they seem like good friends none-the-less.  Interestingly enough, Tyler and Dylan are probably the most welcoming and safest appearing characters that you meet this time around.  Are they truly safe?  Who knows.  That might be a fun future game to play: Which Rockland character is safe?

Future characters mentioned but not physically in this installment include cops like Roy.  It’s very possible we may get to see, if not Roy, at least one cop or detective at the bar in the future.  I’m looking forward to that kind of interaction, because what do the cops of Rockland think of new folks?  Do they view them as potential victims they need to keep an eye on more for safety?  Do they act a little gruff to make Rockland seem less welcoming (so the newbie will leave)?  Or are they corrupt and completely aware of what goes on in Rockland (but let things be)…so they don’t make any attempt to drive away or give any kind of warning to the player?  Maybe they just flat out don’t like newcomers because it’s a tight nit town and they already have enough on their plate.  Rockland also seems to be a place that attracts sinister characters honestly.  Not just potential victims.  So the cops may be skeptical about what kind of character has just rolled into town. 

This is only the tip of the iceburg.  There’s so much more to discover, and I feel like these installments will be a great way to see sides of characters we don’t normally get to see in the main games.  I for one enjoy a setting where the MC gets a chance to observe some of these characters in a more public setting.  Oh I’m sure the more intimate settings with certain characters in the others games will be to die for.  But you know, maybe save those games for your more expendable OC’s.

[babystevie]

Teacher AU

Part 2

Now called:

You came back into my life (Unexpectedly but I wouldn't have it any other way)

Also Available on AO3 : Here

With a few small changes 

When Steve found out he was getting full custody of his newborn daughter two weeks after he graduated college, he had a slight mental breakdown.

This particular breakdown was mostly full of overflowing happiness at the prospect, then proceeded to turn into an actual panic attack at raising his beautiful daughter completely by himself.

When he thinks about it now, he should’ve known that this was always the way it was going to be. He respected Avery and thought she was a wonderful smart woman, which is why when they found out that they were having a child, while completely on accident, neither of them was to upset about it.

But overall, he should’ve seen it coming.

Steve is known for being unobservant when it comes to people, but he is getting pretty good at analyzing feelings, and people whether they are aware of it or not, tend to be open with how they feel. And Avery felt she just wasn’t ready to raise a child, and that aspect had nothing to do with Steve.

She wasn’t ready, and he respected that.

But,

It didn’t still his absolute breakdown when he received the full custody paperwork at the hospital.  

Which, now that he thinks about it is actually horrifyingly embarrassing, and he should’ve waited until he was at home to do so, but luckily Robin was there to convince him that she wasn’t going to go anywhere and that he was going to be a great day.

And,

He thinks he’s doing a pretty great job.

After his breakdown, he agreed to send Avery pictures every school picture she wanted, and even though she wasn’t going to be in their lives, they both agreed that if his daughter wanted to meet her one day, they’d both be okay with it.

It was one of the most important adult conversations that he’d ever had in his life and was immensely grateful that she was such a good person.

Who just wasn’t ready.

Steve on the other hand, was overly prepared for his daughter, and thanks to his mother had everything he could even slightly think of needing for his little girl. Even though there was a large chance that his parents would likely never meet the girl, they did the exact same thing they did for Steve, which was filling the empty space with items that replaced them.

So, even though he was upset with them, he’d come to terms with their lack of personal involvement in stride, and he and Robin brought his little girl home and now they are here today.

At 6 months old, Stephanie was and always will be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

She has bright green eyes that match her mother’s but got the genes of a full head of Steve’s thick brown hair and the small moles that littered her skin were a direct mirror to what was all over his.

She is just beautiful. Steve may be slightly biased, but he doesn’t even care because he finally gets to love another person with the intensity that he carries with him when it comes to love. A love for another person that is completely dependent on him, and surely sees him with as much importance as he does,

Even though she still screams her head off at 2 in the morning from time to time.

As he walks into the daycare his daughter stays at during the weekdays while he’s teaching, she lights up with a recognition that he’s coming to take her home.

Where she will always be safe.

--

When everyone found out that Steve was going to be a dad, via Skype because he wasn’t about to leave the state any time soon after hearing the news, everyone was excited for him, but to his utter horror they had thought the baby was Robins, and they had both gotten a little green at that fact.

After the situation was cleared up, there was a lot more questions from the party, and a few hard stares from Hopper, and some squealing from Joyce and after she’d stopped making those noises, she’d called him back and threatened to fly out there and slap him if he wasn’t involved with that child’s life.

Now when he talks to Joyce, those threats have turned into praise that simply make him studder at the fact that she’s decided to move to California because,

I need to meet my grandbaby Steve, no arguments.

He’d cried over the video chat with her when that had happened.

And,

He talks to them all probably a little to much, and fills up his life with pictures of his favorite person in the entire world, he 100% certain that all of the photographs he’s sent them have found their way into Joyce’s collection, and he knows that Dustin carries one in his wallet with him everywhere.

It’s sweet and he still cries when he thinks about it for to long that they all care about them so much.

He loves them.

--

As his daughter had grown into the 6-month-old that she is now he thinks, things weren’t always easy. Sure, Robin and he had the money to support another person. Hell, he still and would probably always have access to his parent’s money, and then he’d gotten the job at the elementary school,

Which doesn’t make him that much.

But,

When he’d first brought her home, he was awake all the time. His beautiful daughter was to happy to stay asleep, and not miss even a little bit of the new world that she was brand new too.

Being a single father made him realize that things were going to be hard.

He thanks anyone who’s listening that he couldn’t have done it without Robin.

Though he did most of the baby portion of things by himself, she helped whenever he looked like he was going to pass out and cleaned up after them both when he finally got her to go to sleep.

She’d washed bottles, and picked up towels from Steve’s uneven shower schedule, graded some of his little assignments he gave to his kindergarteners, and helped him do lesson plans over the ones she already was doing for her own students,

“Surprisingly yours gets harder than mine, at least my students can read, most of the time.”

He’d laughed.

She smiled at him for the first time at 4 in the morning with her bright green eyes on him fully after she’d given him an impressive burp, and that was the day he realized that she looked just like him.

At the 3-month mark, she finally started to sleep through most nights, and the bags under Steve’s eyes were staring to lessen their prominent color of deep grey and he looked more like an actual person when he showed up to work when she hit 4 months old.

Then she started laughing and screaming about everything and nothing all at once. The new noises in his life was so adorable. It was easier to leave her to her own devices while he cooked or cleaned up after his class full of 5-year-olds, because she was able to make her presence known to him from an entire other room.

He started doing his hair again after that and got into the hang of getting the spit up stains out of his sweaters and polos after he fed her in the mornings, he should probably feed her in his pajamas.

She’s still so curious about everything at 6 months old. She rolls over at any given chance she gets. She sits up mostly by herself, and grabs things with such force that Steve pulls his hair back when he has her in his arms at all times now.

She doesn’t want to miss anything and needs to be sat up almost all the time now, and since his mother sent him so many things, he’s able to give her anything that will make her happy, and her happiness right now and watching the space around her, and the lights of the toys that she doesn’t really understand how to play with yet, but wont let him take them away because not hearing or seeing them would be a travesty.

Recently she has started teething, not much but he feels so bad, and she screams if something isn’t in her mouth now, but god he wouldn’t change a thing.

--

He is walking through the grocery store with Stephanie strapped to the front of him in her carrier facing the world because she’d scream otherwise when he hears his name being called by an excited little voice at the other end of the cereal aisle.

He turns to the sound and Isaac Hargrove is running towards him at full force. He vaguely hears another voice calling the little boys name but he’s to worried about the kid knocking him over to really care about that at the moment.

“Mr. H!” Isaac yells as he makes contact with his left leg, and Steve lets out a small laugh and a small ‘ooof’ and wraps his hand around his daughter’s torso to keep her from being jostled, because then she’ll cry at the inconvenience.

She really is almost all him.

Isaac has only been in his class for a couple of weeks now, but the kid has taken a shine to learn quickly and get along with the rest of the class, and Steve was happy about his easy transition.

He and Billy have spoken a couple of times after school lets out, but usually its just a wave goodbye, and then as they leave Steve stares at Billy’s ass when he walks to his car,

No one has to know about that.

There’s no animosity between them during these exchanges, and Steve’s sure some of that has to do with the fact that he’s leaving his child with Steve 5 days out of the week for almost 8 hours each time. Other than that, Steve’s not to worried about talking about their past anymore, he can’t bring himself to care about things that they will probably need to discuss to really move forward, but for now he can deal with just staring at him like a weirdo.

“Isaac!” Billy’s voice filters through his brains as Stephanie lets out an excited screech when Steve brushes past her little toes to reach down and steady the curly headed child at his feet.

Isaac doesn’t look like he even cares he just ran from wherever they were to get to Steve, and he yells, “Daddy look! I found Mr. H!”

Billy’s eyes are wide at the edge of the aisle before he starts walking towards the three of them, and directly speaks to Isaac,

“You cannot just run away like that kid.” And scoops him from his place on the ground with practiced ease and brings his eyes back to Steves.

“But Mr. H is here!” the boy argues, and Steve stifles a laugh, finally removing his arm from Stephanie to let her dangle comfortably once more and thankfully she only makes a small noise in anger before choosing to take her attention back to shoving her fist in her mouth.

“Your dad’s right Isaac.” Steve states getting the boys attention, and wide blue eyes stare back at him, and he gives him a small smile, “But.” He states putting his glasses up onto his nose, “I am very happy to see you.”

Isaac’s grin is wide and happy and Steve smiles, and brings himself to look back at the matching eyes of the kids’ father who’s looking at him with an expression that Steve can’t really identify,

“Billy.” He greets finally, and tries not to stare to hard at the motion of Billy’s throat as he swallows before he replies,

“Steve.” And gives Steve a small smile

They stare at one another for a moment before he lets Isaac back down onto the floor and the boy exclaims,

“Is that your baby Mr. H!!?”

And Steve can’t help the grin that profoundly takes over his face, “Yes, this is Stephanie.”

“Hi Stephanie!” Isaac waves, and like she can actually respond yells back at him with her normal level of force that Steve chuckles.

“She isn’t big enough to talk yet bud, still a baby.” Steve tells the boy.

Isaac nods seriously at his words and Billy’s voice interrupts,

“How old is she?”

Steve looks back up at him and hears the slight strain, but awe look in his face as he stares at his daughter.

She’s adorable, and they all know it.

“6 months.” Steve tells him happily, “getting bigger every day, Robin? Do you remember Robin?” Billy nods, “She keeps telling me that she’s getting to big to fast, and I can’t help but agree.” Pride bleeds into his voice, and he ignores the sadness that she really is getting bigger every day.

“She’s adorable.” Billy says with a slightly sad expression that makes Steve scrunch his face. He attentively reaches out his hand and she grabs onto his finger with what Steve knows is a strong hold,

“Isn’t she?” he starts, “Careful though, she may cut off circulation. She’s got a monster grip.” He gestures to his tied-up hair, “I would know.”

Billy laughs quietly, seemingly trying not to startle her, “That’s okay.”

Steve swears that he’s going to melt in the middle of the cereal aisle at the soft look on Billy’s face directed completely at his daughter who’s probably on the verge of smacking Billy in the face if he gets any closer to her.

If Steve’s crush had dwindled at any point, its back with complete full force right at this moment. He’s trying really hard not to just blurt out that he wants to go on a date with Billy, right here, in front of their children, for fuck’s sake, all because he’s continuing to grasp his daughters attention, making noises at her, which she gleefully screams back at him,

“She looks just like you.” Billy tells him, “Her eyes might be green, but damn they are huge.”

Steve’s brain short circuits a bit. Because that could be taken as an insult, but it didn’t sound like one, not in any way did it sound like an insult, not with the tone of voice Billy used. Steve blinks owlishly which makes Billy chuckle and murmur to himself,

“Exactly the same.”

His phone rings before he gets to process that fully and he reaches to grab it quickly before his daughter gets offended at the sudden noise and he answers it,

“Hello?”

“Don’t forget to get cat food Dingus, your cat won’t shut the fuck up.” Robins voice filters through, and the way Billy’s face morphs into hilarity he knows that he’s heard her.

“Jesus, I won’t forget Rob, I have a list.”

She hangs up without saying anything else and Steve must look super offended right now because Billy says,

“Don’t look at your phone like that Stevie, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Steve gawks and Billy continues, “So Robin lives with you then?”

He nods in response, “She’s been the best help, Steph loves her. Made things a lot easier for me.”

Billy gets a weird look on his face, “You’re by yourself?”

Steve ignores the pang of loneliness in his gut, “Yep.” He states popping the p, “Avery, her mom wasn’t ready, and I was a guess, she’s all mine.” And gazes lovingly down at his daughter where she’s currently now trying to put Billy’s finger in her mouth.

Billy’s face does a slew of emotions before it settles, and he shrugs, “I’ve only had full custody of Isaac for a couple of years, but I can relate to the feeling. After, Heather and her girlfriend passed away, I would’ve never said no.”

Steve shoots him a small sad smile, the feeling of his heart beating in his throat underneath his words, “Wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

“Yeah.” He sits his free hand onto the back of Isaac’s neck causing the boy to beam, “Me either.”

[ava-jones]

Practice Challenge. Part 1

“Fuck him! Fuck his shitty new album! Fuck his ‘playboy’ reputation! I’m not going to lie about my life to fix a shitty situation he put himself in!” Ava screamed in the hallway a few feet down from her agents office. 

“Babe it’s not like I’m asking you to get married. Just go on a few photo-opt dates, then after Ethan’s album has been out for a few months you can quietly call it off.” Carolyn, the publicist being berated, argued. 

“That’s exactly the problem! It’s not like he’s some dude I’m actually interested in long term. I. don’t. Like. lying.” Ava huffed and leaned against the wall crossing her arms and glaring at Carolyn. 

“Don’t think of it as lying just as acting.” She tried to purswade. 

Ava just glared and chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tried to find some way to get out of this. 

“Common Ava, remember what I said to you when you were a kid, ‘sometimes you have to bend a little.’” She pressured. 

“Bend a little! I moved to Angeles! I changed my name! I rewrote Heart Full of Scars! I did your playboy magazine! I’ve done every single thing that you’ve told me too!” She screamed now getting some looks from other agents. One of them would likely let this outburst slip out soon, another ‘snobby two throwing a tantrum’ she could already see the headlines “Has Ava Jones gotten too used to the rich life? Illeans sweetheart has rotted.’ Probably something shorter but that was why Ava was not a journalist.

“You absolutely have not! You turned down the chance to speak with Scooter Burnt on his show! You barely got to the playboy thing and I had to convince you for days before you’d go! You’ve refused modeling opportunities and went against me and released ‘Do You’!” 

“And it fucking slaps! It got us 65.2 million views within 24 hours! Sometimes you’re wrong!” She yelled and turned to leave. 

“Where are you going?” Carolyn asked, running after her. 

“Home.” She huffed and put her hands in her pockets turning to take the stairs out. 

“Angeles or Sumner?” 

“Sumner!” She yelled back as Carolyn started falling behind. 

“For how long?” 

“Till you get me out of this mess!” She yelled back, turning the corner to the front door of her agents studio. Suddenly he bombarded her. 

“Please wait! Ava!” Ethan yelled chasing after her before grabbing her arm. 

She spun on him, “What! You tricked me into thinking we were friends then told the press I slept with you, why do you think I should give you another second of my time?” 

“Don’t you want to?” He asked with a raised eyebrow more than a little to calm for Ava’s anger.

“To what?” She asked, genuinely confused.

“Sleep with me?” 

Suddenly, Ethan wasn’t smiling anymore, in fact he was on the ground, a red slap mark across his face, security moving to stop Ava but hesitating, they wouldn't want to hurt Illea’s darling. 

“You whore!” Ethan yelled and lunged at her, the guards were much less hesitant with him. After all he was a has-been lunging at a will-always-be. Suddenly the door to the building swung open, the guards stopped, Ethan stood quickly and wrapped a hand around Ava’s waist. As much as she wanted to shove him off and make the sides of his face symmetrical she didn’t want to deal with even more bad press.  

He leaned down to her ear, “behave or I will fucking destroy you.” he whispered. 

“Yeah right, like you can.” She grumbled back through gritted teeth as a paparazzi tried to act hidden, wandering around like he was looking for a room as he held a camera close to his body, attempting to keep it under his bag. 

“Calm down, sweetheart. You’re the one escalating this.” He whispered as they shuffled together to the door trying to make their way out to their private parking deck. Ava quickly scanned her ID for the building and they slipped out of sight. 

As soon as the door closed behind them she shoved him off and down to the ground, “Never touch me again. I’m not the one escalating this, you’re the one who told the press I was ‘cute’ in bed, what the hell does that even mean? I am reacting. I am allowed to react to you being the shittiest person alive,” She rushed to her car and pulled away. 

She was never supposed to drive herself, just like she wasn’t supposed to hit other celebrities, or yell in hallways, or put up a fight. But lately she was feeling so tired. 

She pulled into an empty church parking lot and sat there for a moment, the air conditioning on as cold as possible, and she almost let it out. She almost let her lips quiver, she almost felt her tears pouring over, she almost called her Carolyn and pleaded for ‘out’. Out of singing, out of performances, out of autographs, out of stalkers, out of lies, out of men thinking that because she is a she in a position of power they can take it from her. Out of letting them. 

But, she didn't. She held onto her steering wheel, she popped open her glove compartment and took out a small cigarette box. Of course she would never risk hurting her voice. Instead inside was a picture of herself as a young girl with a boy. The two of them were about thirteen, they were having a picnic on a farm, drinking sparkling apple juice out of two champagne flutes, feeling so adult. Inside there was a small swatch of fabric. She held it closed and breathed it in, and the warmth took over and she was okay. 

She picked up her phone and called one of her top numbers, “Hey Ms. Rosado! I’m coming home for a while tonight. Do you mind if I swing by the house?” 

“Of course not! You know you’re welcome any time, baby.” The now elderly woman eased. 

****************************************************************

Sumner was always Ava’s heaven. It’s where she wasn’t Ava Jones at all. She was Avery Jacoby. Her family was from very rural Sumner. There were about 800 people in her town, mostly fours and lower. Her family had been fours for years until she bought their way into the two castes. The Rosado’s were a family of sevens who worked on their poultry farm. Angeles was loud, full of screaming cars, and people. All she had to hear at home was the chickens and cows. She pulled up on the dirt road which led not to her house, but to the Rosados. It had been un-lived in for the last six years. 

Untouched, Ms. Rosado couldn’t be in it anymore so she had moved in with Ava’s family. She couldn’t stand the silence, where her little boy had once run around with Ava, playing monsters vs heroes. Hearing Michael play guitar along with Ava’s singing. It made her think of his body, falling to the ground, the final seizure taking him at fifteen, it lasted for eight minutes before he passed on. 

Ava laid down in his childhood bed. Her best friend, her soul mate's bed. His smell surrounded her as she looked up at the stars painted on his ceiling, “Mike.” She called out softly covering her eyes with her arm. She knew he couldn't see her. She didn’t believe in all that “they’re watching from above shit. Why would he waste his time in heaven on that. 

“I don’t want this anymore.” She breathed out. 

“But I’m not giving up on us. We said it, we were gonna make it one day, you’re the asshole who made me promise I wouldn’t give up no matter what. Well now what? I’ve made it I think, but there always seems to be more to do. When is it enough? I need you to tell me. Why were you so shitty with your deathbed wishes. What does it even mean? Make it to your debut album? Check. Make it to your first sold out concert? Check! Have billions of fans worldwide? Done and done. But now what do you want me to become a triple threat take on acting and modeling? Do you want me to keep performing? I did all this for you after all! Pretty rude of you to leave me hanging here!” 

“Well do you still like singing?” She shot up at the response. Not from some magical ghost but from her younger sister, Katy.

“What are you doing here?” She asked defensively about her sister's eavesdropping. 

“Aitana said you were stopping by. I figured you needed saving before you turned into-” she paused and gestured to her sister, a crying mess in a child’s bed, “-that.” 

She paused for a moment and sat down next to her, “you know, we’d never want for money again. You’ve made enough for us and ms. Rosado to live like kings for the rest of our lives. Probably your kids too and grandkids. You don’t have to keep doing this, that is, if you don’t like it.” 

Ava sighed looking back up to the painted night sky, “I love singing, I’ll always love singing.” She mumbled. 

“But?”

“But, I hate the performing, I hate being watched, I hate being told who to date, who to talk to, what to wear, what I’m permitted to eat, how much to work out, scripted for in interviews.” 

Katy made a dramatic gasp, “Scripted? You? I thought you just really loved Nike shoes all the sudden.” she joked. 

Ava couldn’t help but laugh and lightly hit her arm. “You bitch, I worked hard to deliver those lines.” She grinned ear to ear. Being apart from Katy was one of the worst things about being in Angeles. 

“Seriously though, you look like shit. You don’t seem happy anymore. You know he wouldn’t want this. He didn’t care about fame he just thought it was what you wanted and wanted you to be happy. Clearly, you’re not, so quit.” She sighed before standing up. “It’s simple, just stop working.” She stood up. 

“You didn’t know him like I did.” Ava mumbled looking down at her hands, knowing her sister was right, but also remembering his eyes and how they lit up dreaming about their future together. 

“Whatever, I’m not going to argue with you about that. Mama’s making stew for dinner, we have to get back before she gives it to the pigs.”

*******************************************************************************************

A few weeks passed on missed calls, then a few months of avoided visits. The press panicked for a moment that Ava hadn’t been literally seen in awhile, but Carolyn released a statement that she was taking a vacation, fortunately for them the present is planned in the past so Carolyn had plenty of unreleased photos to put out, and even a few unreleased songs which she had previously called, “garbage” but was turning to in desperation.

Ava felt clean. She felt safe in the hills of Sumner, the sun healed her, her family was close, and the world was quiet. Until the letter came, then Katy was screaming. 

“Our selection letters came!” 

“Our what came?” I asked munching on my bowl of corn flakes. 

“Selection, duh- oh right you’re doing that “off the grid or social media cleanse.’” She said doing air quotes.

“How very Angeles of you.” My mom chimed in. 

“I’m not trying to be hip, I'm just taking a break!” I defended myself. 

“Well- to fill you in, Prince Arin is holding a selection! I thought he never would since he and that chick seemed so close to getting married. They were even engaged three months ago.” She gushed. The cereal fell off my spoon, 

“Months?” 

Katy looked confused for a moment, “Yeah months, not every mourns for years.” 

“Yeah no. No way in hell is he over that. He’s looking for a royal rebound.” I chuckled and went back to my food. 

“So you’re not going to apply?” 

“No I’m not going to apply, and you shouldn’t either. You’ll get your heart broken joining that.” 

“Well maybe I’m not going in it for my heart.” She replied. 

“What? Have I not been giving you enough money?” 

“More like there aren’t enough men in this town. I’m itching to have some fun.” She complained. 

“And I’m out!” Our mom said rushing off as Katy began to complain about how dry her sex life had been lately. 

“Well, I’m taking the drive to the post office this afternoon. Decide if you want to join by then.” 

“I’ve decided, no thanks.” 

A few hours later Ava sat in bed reading one of her old favorite books, she was enjoying some peace until her phone was buzzing over and over again in her drawer. She would shut it off but it was a burner phone that Carolyn had given her. It was an ‘when you want to get off the grid but I still need to reach you for an emergency phone.’ She groaned and pulled it out, 

“You better be dying.” 

“No but I’m going to put you in your grave if you don’t come back here and participate in the selection.” 

“Nope sorry I told you, I’m home until I say so. If that’s all I’ll see you someda-”

“I’ll let you out of your contract with Rainbow Companion Records!” Ava bit her bottom lip. RCR had signed her when she was just fifteen. She didn’t know better so she agreed to a 10 year lease with them. Getting out would really help her quit.

“Why would you do that?” She asked, there would be no advantage for Carolyn. Everyone was playing a game with each other at this level and she needed to know her angle. 

“You’re not going to quit. I’ve known you for years, you’ll take a break but ultimately come back. People like yo- like us are simple, we need the attention. After a while you’ll ask them to take you back. I know you’re too stubborn to accept that that’s what will happen, so you’ll agree to this because you want to ‘quit’ right now. It’s happened to so many of my clients.” She explained being shockingly transparent. 

“You really don’t know me at all.” She mumbled and thought for a moment. She was afraid, afraid that what Carolyn said was true. That she’d miss all that noise. But if it wasn’t she’d finally be free.” 

“What if I don’t get in?” Ava asked, needing to know the details. 

“Sweetheart, if you want it you’re as good as already in. I know people.”

“Okay I’ll do it.” 

“Great! I’ll send someone over in three days to fill out your appli-” She shut the phone. ‘No way in hell someone is doing that for me.’ 

“Katy! Do you have my letter?” She yelled in the hallway. 

*******************************************************

Just like that, Angeles flew in and popped my bubble. "We've hired some good photographers and journalists to wait at the airport. Just smile and say you're excited. I've also got some new sponsors for you, RCR really fucked me over on those negotiations so we need a bit more big billion bucks." Carolyn said as Aileen, my makeup artist, worked on lining my lips. 

Carolyn pulled a paper out of her purse and handed it over to her, mostly it was a list of brands with a few lines they wanted her to say, nothing unusual. She normally put up a fight over promotional work but if it was her ticket to a life without lying and screaming, she’d take it. 

“Now I set up the studio for that song that you sent me. It’s going to be a hit! We’ll release it a few hours before the selected announcements come out so the popularity boost from being announced on national television will bring everyone, even people who aren’t your fans, to your new video.” She explained. 

As soon as Ava’s jet landed in Angeles it was back to her old life. Back to the quick interview, “I was taking a break to be with family but I’m back now better than ever.” with a few ads thrown in there for the money. 

The night of the announcement she laid in the bath. She normally hated how alone she was in her Angeles apartment, but being able to bathe in peace was a nice perk. She pulled up the count down for her own video and waited. She didn’t like to watch them until they were released. In the past she had tried to help with the editing process but she was apparently too much of a backseat driver. She just had to trust that Jack knew her vision and would stick to it. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyFiWkmkexI

She had decided to write this mostly due to her pure rage at Ethan, her director went a little off though making it into a whole scheming theme but overall she was satisfied. Next she switched to the channel with the selected announcement and waited. One named caught her eye ‘Emily Rose White’. She groaned and pulled up her phone, 

“You told her I was joining?”

“No that must have been actual luck, or she just wants to compete.” Carolyn responded. 

**************************************************

[rainydaydarling]

Excerpt for WBAB

Content Warning: death, murder

“So what’s the plan now?” Amara’s father, Pierce, asked as she walked in the front door. “How are you going to catch Cliff?” A huge grin spread on his face.

“Oh not you too!” Amara cried.

Kiva and Avery laughed alongside Pierce. Amara sat on the couch, pulling her legs under her. It looked like she didn’t have a choice any more. Cliff had caught on. There was no going back now. She smiled at her silly but supportive family. She couldn’t wait for Tucian to be officially part of it soon.

“The plan will be to try some location magic. Not tonight though. I’m too tired. Getting thrown over the edge is exhausting.” Amara leaned her head back and let out a long breath. “I need something fizzy.” She walked to the kitchen and returned with a soda in hand.

“What does Tucian think of you helping hunt down Cliff?” Kiva asked.

“He’s supportive,” Amara answered. “He worries about me but wants me to chase my dreams.”

“And Cliff.” Everyone chuckled.

Working with the police wasn’t her only dream. She was living one of her other dreams already. She’d started up her own branch of their family business, self defense training. Her family usually worked with people with powers. She’d decided to break tradition and teach women without powers how to defend themselves. Her family was very supportive even though she wouldn’t be contributing much to the family wealth. Most of her clients couldn’t afford to pay much. Luckily her family had been doing well for generations, accumulating a large fortune along the way. It had allowed her to do what she truly wanted without worrying about where her next meal would come from. She knew how fortunate she was and tried to pass it along to others.

An eerie squeaking sound radiated from behind Amara. “What’s that sound?” She asked as she turned around. The only thing behind her was the window on the front of their house. Against the pane, letters were being drawn in blood by an invisible finger. She stood from the couch in confusion as two words were formed.

Say

Goodbye

“Say goodbye?” Amara pondered aloud. What do you think that—“ She turned around to look at her family. All at once her parents’ and sister’s heads turned in an unnatural way and made a loud cracking sound. “NO!” She screamed as she sank to her knees. Their bodies slumped down and she looked back to the window in panic. It was blank. No smeared blood, no words. She didn’t understand. Her thoughts jumbled all over and she couldn’t form a coherent thought through the shock. She turned back to the couch where her family was, no broken necks.

“Amara?” Kiva asked with worry. “Honey? Your eyes are turquoise. Are you okay?”

“You were…” Amara struggled to push her thoughts back together. “You were all… you were dead.”

“Dead?” Pierce asked. “No one here is dead.” His dark curly hair swayed as he shook his head.

“You were dead!” Amara cried as she buried her face in her arms on the coffee table. Sobs shook her and Kiva went over to rub her back until she calmed down.

“Deep breaths,” Kiva cooed. “That’s it.”

Amara followed her mom’s instructions and tried to fill and empty her lungs slowly. It was hard at first. Her body wouldn’t obey her commands. But as Kiva ran her fingers over her back, a tickle worked up her spine and her muscles relaxed. She turned to face her mom and the rest of her panic drained away as Kiva trailed her fingers across her forehead, pushed her hair from her face.

“We’re okay,” Kiva whispered.

Amara’s heart slowed to normal and she noticed Pierce and Avery sitting next to Kiva. They sat staring at her with the same worry.

“What happened?” Pierce asked quietly.

“I saw writing on the window.” Amara turned to look again at the window. She stared at it, remembering what it had held only moments before.

“Writing?” Avery asked.

“Yeah. It was in blood. It said ‘Say goodbye’. When I turned around your necks snapped. You were…” A sob slipped past Amara’s lips. Realization slid into her thoughts as they came back together. It hadn’t been real. Someone had deceived her. Who would do that?

“How—“ Avery started.

“Cliff.” Amara’s eyes shifted from their sad turquoise to angry black.

“It was a threat.” Pierce took Amara’s hand in his. “You need to be careful.”

Amara’s heart wrenched. Her work was now putting her family in harm’s way. “You’re in danger. If his threat is real, you’re not safe.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Avery told her. ”We can take care of ourselves.”

“She’s right,” Kiva agreed. “We’ll put a shield on the house. Only those who we give permission to will be allowed in. And outside the house, I think we’re all pretty good at defending ourselves.”

“That’s true.” Amara nodded. “But what if—“

“No what if.” Avery hugged her. “We’ll be good. You go on and catch him.”

Amara laughed at her sister’s intuitiveness. “Fine. But we better put up the shield right away.”

“Deal. Help me out?” Avery held her hand out and Amara took it.

Purple and green sparks followed their hands as they swirled in front of them. A translucent shield appeared. It was almost as tall as Avery and Amara, it's bottom point nearly touching the floor. They each pushed a hand flat against the shield then spun a full circle with that hand still outstretched. The shield laid itself flat. They dropped to one knee in unison and slammed their fists straight down into the floor. Purple and green sparks sprayed upward. As their fists hit, the shield expanded outward, encircling the house, then disappeared.

[thelucyverse]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

I end up in the middle of an informal Order meeting- just a dinner, I suppose, but it looks like a meeting to me as I have only seen these people at Order meetings in the past years.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asks, in a mixture of confusion, anger (at the world in general and because he can't visit his best friend all the time, being his secret keeper) and happiness (because I was a distraction from anger and frustration?).

"I- something happened. V- /the Dark Lord/," I catch myself, being around them almost made me forget the danger of that name, "he had some of his followers under a kind of mind control- I broke it, and there was chaos, and a few death eaters died- you can put Malfoy and Greyback on that list, one of the Carrows too I think, and Nott and Avery were in pretty bad shape last I've seen- and-" "Malfoy him or Malfoy her?" Sirius asks. I want to raise an eyebrow, say 'I didn't know you cared', but then I catch the way he is looking in the direction of the kitchen. Oh. Andromeda. I hadn't realised she was around. "Just him" I quickly explain. "Actually, that's another thing- I didn't exactly come here alone..."

There is definitely a lot of shouting involved, and I am just about ready to run outside, grab Bella and get away from here, when Andromeda stomps out of the kitchen and past everyone to open the door. Suddenly, it's very silent in the living room.

"Narcissa." Andromeda says, her voice cold but her resolve to stay that way definitely wavering. "And- Bella, you too? Regulus??"

"What?!" Sirius pushes her out of the way to see his younger brother. "Reg?! What the fuck?! Wait, you were under mind control??"

"Uh, no, actually" Regulus winces, scratches his head, taking an involuntary step back. "Really just didn't know how to get out, at this point... Did try to do some shit, but someone had gotten there before me, and then I kinda didn't have the energy to try again..." Sirius groans and shakes his head at him. "Fucking Slytherins..." "He took down Carrow" Bella interrupts. There's definitely some pride for her cousin in her voice. "You what?"

Interrupting before this gets more chaotic than necessary, I explain: "Actually, out of the three, only Bella was under the mind control. There were others, I have a few suspicions but nothing confirmed. Narcissa was magically bound to her husband in some way, but- well, he's dead now." no need going into the fact that I broke the connection beforehand. People know of your power- people want you to use it. Bad enough I can't pretend like I didn't do the rest- but, if I play it right, maybe it'll just look like it was another Dark Mark related thing instead of soul magic. As long as Bella and Narcissa play along... I curse myself for talking so openly earlier. Heat of the moment...

"And- what? We're supposed to believe that they are just immediately reformed?" Andromeda snaps, pulling me from my thoughts. "In case you have forgotten all about it, my dear sisters never stood up for me when I was cast out, and I'm fairly certain they weren't under any mind control then!" I pinch my neck. "Andromeda" I say, holding up a hand to silence her as well as her sisters. "They would have just been cast out too if they had tried to help you, what did you expect? They're Slytherins, some healthy egoism is in their blood! And-" I take a deep breath- "yes, they grew up around blood supremacy ideology and probably never questioned it much, but tell me- if you hadn't fallen in love with Ted, if you hadn't had any /reason/ to question it yourself, would you have acted any different than them?" Andromeda is silent, and I sigh. "Yes, they aren't perfect people, but they are ready to act against the Dark Lord, and isn't that all we need to know right now? You don't need to get on, but we can't afford to be picky with our allies at the moment."

Andromeda nods, stares at her sisters for a long moment and turns around to disappear in the house. In that moment, however, Regulus cries out and lands on his knees, hand pressing against his arm. I curse. "Fuck!" I should have thought of that, I should have /anticipated/ that and done something about it! Of course, the second maze of dark marks hadn't been broken, and Regulus hadn't been part of the first...

Bending down to get a better look at it, I am appalled: this isn't just a second round of the same thing, but a new, terrifying curse instead. This isn't just meant to curse pain and summon people, this is-

Breaking away from the magic with a gasp, I sit back and disarm him, then grasp Regulus' face, force him to look into my eyes. "The Dark Lord can control you through that" I hiss. "And it isn't- it isn't like the others, and I don't have /time/, he's going to act, he might try to take over your body- the only way to get rid of it I can think of is to get rid of the arm. Regulus?" He stares at me, shell-shocked and still obviously in pain. Then he presses out: "Do it."

I turn around to the others, looking for help. "Does anyone- he'll need medical attention at least-" "I'm getting Pomfrey!" Dädalus Diggle squeaks out and disapparates. I wince. Pomfrey means Dumbledore. Well, best get it all over with. I turn around to Regulus- only to find him staring back with unseeing eyes. Fuck. He turns on the spot, trying to apparate- and falls on his face. Thank Fuck has I thought to disarm him. It's easy to tie him up now, and he doesn't seem to be properly possessed by anything that could talk- Voldemort probably just sent out a generic 'come home' signal.

"What's happening to him?" Sirius shouts behind us, alarmed. "The fuck did she just say was happening" Bella hisses at him, and I smile at her protectiveness of me. Whatever else happens, I think we can figure out the thing between us.

The /cracks/ of apparition around us alert us of the arrival of newcomers, and we all immediately raise our wands in defence- it's Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, McGonnagall and Pomfrey (do they hang out for tea together, or what?), but I don't lower my defence immediately. "How many stories does the house behind us have?" I hiss. "Two" Dumbledore answers calmly. "It is really just us. Now, what is going on her?" "Constant vigilance!" Mad-Eye booms "She has it right! All of you, lowering your wands like little-" "Alastor!" McGonnagall interrupts him indignantly. In that moment, Dädalus arrives, carrying an assortment of medical equipment and potions bottles. Pomfrey steps forward to take some of them of him. "I was told there would be a patient?"

"Not yet" I say, nodding to Regulus. "But could we maybe move inside first?" that leads to another discussion ultimately abandoned for the moment when Regulus starts to twitch and I can see the curse slowly flickering past his elbow...

Mad-Eye is the one to do the actual amputating, and while I don't understand that choice, I believe in Pomfrey's judgement, and I'm glad it doesn't have to be me. Somehow, blood and open wounds in a medical environment are just more bile-inducing than in battle. Plus, it means I can be there for Bella when the continues discussion amongst the people not involved in the amputating turns back to what to do and where to go. We can't exactly keep standing just outside of the Fidelius property forever.

"Oh, for god's sake!" I finally hiss- for a moment then, I am afraid because I used a muggle idiom, but then I remember where I am. I turn to Dumbledore. "Let's use your pensive. You can tell when a memory has been tampered with, can't you? Let's go." Mad-Eye comes with us, and the five of us apparate to the Hogwarts gates. It is the first time I actually see the castle. It is, somehow, both more and less impressive than expected. Narcissa is the first Dumbledore asks for her memories. They are a jumbled mess of colours and shock and /fear/, neatly highlighting the scene where she /has/ to check on Lucius when he is unconscious, not revealing much about my actions apart from the fact that I used an imperius on Malfoy. Dumbledore raises an eyebrow at that, but he doesn't comment, and Mad-Eye just snorts: "Had it commin'!" Bellatrix' memory is first even more jumbled than Narcissa's, darkness of hatred clouding thoughts and judgement, only to go over in sharp, clear pain when her soul is healing herself. She doesn't show the scene of me telling them about soul-magic, either. Then I show my recap- how Bellatrix first changed after going to a meeting with Voldemort, how others had similar changes or behaviors, how Bellatrix collapsed under some outside influence- then back to how Narcissa never seemed to like her husband, how I cut the connection to him, and finally how, through Lucius' eyes under the imperius, I broke the connect of the Dark Mark to Voldemort. Dumbledore and Mad-Eye seem to buy that as the full story. After each taking a magicians' oath not to knowingly and actively aid Voldemort in any way (I demanded the phrasing instead of a vow not to act against the Order. That had too much room for complications), they were given the Secret of Tine Cottage, and we went back to Headquarters.

Just as Regulus is sitting down on the chair next to sirius, one cursed arm lighter and a grim expression on his face, Snape stumbles in- and it is that stumbling that saved him, because instantly, Mad-Eye, McGonnagal and I all have our wands pointed at him. The others would have probably just kept them pointing in threat, but I immediately disarm and stun him. "What-" squeaks Dädalus. I shake my head, walk over, kick away his wand and cast a diagnostic. I shiver. I might not like the man that much, but he doesn't deserve this. "It's the same as Regulus" I say slowly. "Only I don't think it's on his arm... The tattoo on his arm is empty, it must have been one of the ones I destroyed... This one is on his chest, over his heart." McGonnagal gasps in shock. I had heard that she and Snape are something like friends, now, or at least good colleagues, despite her having been his teacher not too long ago. I feel sorry for her.

"What can we do?" Regulus asks, staring at the pale form of Snape on the ground. I realise that he must have just found out that Snape isn't on Voldemort's side. "Right now, we have to make sure he can't move or talk, no matter what the Dark Lord wants him to do. Madam Pomfrey?" She sets to work putting Snape into a magically induced coma. I am thinking hard now. "Dumbledore- can you be sure that your Fidelius holds when Riddle possibly saw every last thought in Snape's head?" "The Fidelius is a charm of-" "I don't need a lesson, I need an answer!" I hiss. Some of the others are clearly distraught by the way I am talking to their leader, as if they don't remember that it was the same way before I went undercover. "...rest assured, it will hold." Dumbledore answers. "Now, my dear, I believe we have to have a discussion long overdue- while I am gratified to hear that Tom is weakened, your rash actions have put many at risk, including Severus here. And of course, the use of the Imperius curse-"

I explode, barely hearing how Mad-Eye grumbles about the unforgivable curses being legal for aurors at wartime. "Oh /shut up!/" I shout. "Shut up with your holier than thou attitude, and don't you dare talk down to me again calling me your 'dear'! I had acted immediately because it was already happening, you saw the damn memory, you saw how Bella collapsed, but I suppose I should have just left her to die 'for the greater good'! And don't pretend to even care about Severus, you wouldn't even have let him join the Order if we hadn't talked you into it, after all you already had your spy! And don't think I didn't notice how you didn't even care to mention Regulus- he's sitting here and missing an arm! And the goddamn imperius curse was fucking necessary to break the curse in the marks, plus it's not like I could have let Lucius go otherwise, anyway, yes maybe there would have been a better way but not in that moment when I didn't have any time! And /don't you dare pretend you have never done something questionable!/ I know your history maybe better than anyone else in this room apart from yourself, or /including/ if you've deluded yourself well enough! So be damn. Fucking. Careful what you say to me." panting, I sit down, and feel Bellatrix grabbing my shoulder in support. Mad-Eye slides over a glass of whiskey. There's a glint in his eyes as if he's glad to see Dumbledore taken down a notch- funny, I would have thought he was an Albus Dumbledore fanclub fanatic. But I detect no poison in the alcohol, so I down it. Needed that right now.

Dumbledore is silent. Everyone is, really. I sigh. While I'm glad the old man is shutting up for a moment, we still have a war to plan.

"How many of the- /items/ regarding Riddle's downfall have already been collected, and how many more do you think there are?" McGonnagall says. 'Items', really? What, does she think we're all going to turn into vicious crazed murderers to split our own soul if we find out what Horcruxes are? "You got three, right?" I ask. I got Hufflepuff's cup from Bella- uh, you probably don't remember that anymore, you asked to be obliviated afterwards-" "I remember leaving it in Gringotts like he asked, despite my- doubts-..." Bella murmurs. I can't help it, I grin proudly. "You got back into the bank immediately after, got the cup and asked to be obliviated of anything after you first left the bank. Terribly clever, that!" "Wait, was that while she was under the mind control thingy?" Sirius asks, and Regulus leans forward too, probably personally interested. I grimace. "The control she was under wasn't as- explicit- as the one you experienced. It wasn't like she was possessed, she was still herself for the most part, just- more open to murder and serving the Dark Lord unconditionally, basically... And she was already fighting it." then I remember something: "Oh! Wow, how the heck I managed to forget about this I don't even know" I exclaim, then mutter: "it's oozing evil so you'd think I'd've noticed, but I guess there's been too much of that today..." I pull Tom Riddle's diary out if my coat pocket, only touching it with my sleeve. "Number five! Got it from Lucius Malfoy's study. And- I don't actually think there are currently any others? If V- /He/ gets a familiar, we should make sure to kill that too, in case he's twisted enough to try something on a living thing, but otherwise..." silence falls in the room. Then, excited chattering from just about everyone. Despite myself, I have to grin, too, and reach up to squeeze Bella's hand that's still on my shoulder. The war is coming to a close.

Remus Lupin- the only spy we have left- arrives to report that the werewolves are in disarray, and while them not having a leader isn't an ideal state re: not killing anyone on the full moon, it's still definitely better than being lead by Greyback, who would have them kill on purpose. Also, not many of them are going to follow Voldemort- apparently, the Deatheater liaisons just stopped showing up. That's something. Are other Deatheaters just disappearing, too? Fleeing or dead? I wonder. And I propose an idea: to lure out Voldemort and all his followers for one big final battle to get rid of them all with a bang. Because while getting rid of the Dark Lord himself is the main goal, I'm afraid many if the Deathesters aren't quite as worshipful of him as they might have been in the distant future- they still see an organization that he happens to be the leader of, not a philosophy that stands and falls with him. If we take him out, what says another won't take over? "We know he has less people in his ranks than before, possibly less than he knows, probably less than the followers he still does have know- he wouldn't tell them that their position is weakened. If we can lure his army somewhere into the open- a field, or even Hogwarts grounds as long as the school is still closed- we can disappear in his army, dressed as Deatheaters ourselves, and take them out from within before it can even come to an attack" I suggest.

That leads to another great discussion, but in the end my idea is accepted. Which leads the question: how do we lure him out, what do we use as bait? "I have the full prophecy of which he only knows half." Dumbledore tells us. "What prophecy?" "Prophecy, what prophecy?" oh, how nice to see that his people are always fully informed of what's going on. Not. An explanation (and a lot of sneering about wanting the prophecy to come true from my side to Dumbledore, which leads to Sirius and Remus getting mad at him too in defense of their godson) later, Narcissa asks: "But how do we get the Dark Lord to go after it?" before immediately blushing, looking down and wanting to disappear. It's the first time she has said anything in this meeting. "We could use Snape" Bella chimes in. I grin. "That's a grand idea- he knows Snape's a spy and undoubtedly also who he is with, he's going go keep trying to look through his eyes... If, the next time Pomfrey would have to renew the coma spells, we just chain him to the bed instead and let him wake, we can have people visit him- several, to make it more believable, with most just there to talk to Snape and try to talk him out of his mind control- but me, or one of you two- or Regulus, too- we could go in to speak to Voldemort through him, to taunt him, to make it seem like we think we've already won because of what the prophecy said..."

Getting Voldemort to bite is disgustingly easy. We put Snape in a hospital bed in Hogwarts to make sure Voldy will come to the right location, then Dumbledore comes to talk to Severus about fighting the evil within while completely ignoring all that Tom has to say to the topic- next is Lily, who has a pretty good fake cry, pretending that she wants her best friend back while of course the true reason is for old Morty to see her at Hogwarts- if the prophecy isn't enough, the prospect of getting to the Potters /and/ the prophecy might do. And then, entry Bella, laughing mean and half-crazed about what she has heard about the prophecy the Dark Lord was so in love with, and that he would never get to rule ever again because he was stupid enough to believe half-knowledge was enough, and that little attacks by his followers were getting him anywhere, how good for us it was that he holed up his own power in a cave to rot. Yeah, Voldy-Snape snarled pretty impressively when she left the room, I'm kind of sorry for the state of Snape's teeth from all that grinding them.

Meanwhile, we have copied Death Eater masks and cloaks while also managing go get in contact with a few of the others I had suspected to be under 'mind control'. Arleen Singer, Corban Yaxley, Sabina Frey... Sabina has scars on her face she hadn't had when I had last seen her, and a part of me feels guilty for not making sure that she got out of Malfoy Manor safely- on the other hand, I'm just glad the scars aren't on mine of Bellatrix' faces.

On the day of the battle, everything feels rather anticlimactic. We had all preparations ready days before, having hurried not knowing when Voldemort would come, and even though he comes in the dead of night, many are already awake and the rest do wake when the first alarm is triggered. We move, silent and disillusioned until we reach our location, into the rows of death eaters and the rest of the Dark Lord's followers. We had decided to go in pairs, to pre-decided locations far enough apart that the stunning spell-bombs we have won't reach the other pairs. There was much discussion about what to do about Voldemort, now that he is most likely mortal, too, and in the end Mad-Eye ended the discussion by stating that as an Auror, he has a kill order on that man, and he won't do anything less. Dumbledore isn't happy about it, but he doesn't need to be. Squeezing Bella's hand under our Death-eater robes, I wait for the signal. It's pretty obvious when it happens- green light where Voldemort stood in the middle of his army, two flashes- one for the snake, one for the man. Then green sparks, the all clear.

Voldemort has fallen.

The Dark Lord is no more.

There will be time for relief later, now I have to move: I activate the ring of the spell-bomb in my hand, aiming away from us, while Bella does the same. As soon as the chaos starts, we scream as if surprised and run forward- past the line that ends the area that is going to trap the Deatheaters. Once we are past it, we pretend to be caught as if by invisible strings- as if this is the dangerous area, and not the one the Deatheaters are already on. The few others who weren't hit stumble back, afraid, and the two who do move forward past the line are caught by actual spells when they don't pretend to be caught to indicate that they belong to us.

Counting the figures with their hands in the air in the position as arranged, I smile when I see that we all made it back out alright. Raising my hand and shooting green sparks in the air, the rest of our team raise the anti-apparition, anti-magic in general wards on the area the Death eaters are on, plus physical shields not only surrounding the area but also in partages, in case one of them goes on a rampage he won't be able to get to everyone of them now. Deatheater or not, those people should get a trial now that the war is over. McGonnagall sends a patronus to the ministry, and Mad-Eye goes to collect more Aurors.

I don't stay to find out what happens next. My part is done here.

In the Great Hall in Hogwarts, breakfast is layed out. I sigh as we enter, leaning into Bellatrix, finally able to relax somewhat. Bella smiles, then slowly walks over towards the Slytherin table, stroking her hand over the old wood. What memories is she thinking on? "What would your house be?" she asks me instead. "I know you were never sorted." I frown. I had never given this much thought. During the war, I had done many things one could call stupidly brave, but I hadn't done them out of chivalry or to prove that I wasn't afraid. Many actions were, of course, means to an end, calculating in Slytherin ways... And I had had to be clever, and I valued intelligence. But then again... "The sorting hat usually decides what house you are at eleven" I muse. "Had I been sorted at that age, I would have undoubtedly been a Slytherin, angry at my fate, at the world, ready to do just about anything to anyone to get what I wanted. Then throughout my life, however... I did things that fit in all four houses. Maybe not Gryffindor, at the very least less. But at the moment, what I would choose, or what the hat might choose for me based on my values? Hufflepuff. Kindness, loyalty, we need more of that in this fucked up world."

Part 5

[ducktracy]

142. porky’s moving day (1936)

disclaimer: this cartoon contains racist contents, stereotypes, imagery, and concepts. i do not at all endorse this content and i find it gross and wrong. while this isn’t as extreme as other depictions, it just as well needs to be noted and talked about. thank you for understanding and bearing with me.

release date: september 12th, 1936

series: looney tunes

director: jack king

starring: joe dougherty (porky), elvia allman (homeowner)

the day has come: here since the heart of the buddy days, jack king’s marks his final cartoon at warner bros with porky’s moving day. i’ve warmed up to him and appreciate his ambition, and i’ve heard nothing but great things about his donald duck cartoons at disney, though i can’t say i’m too heartbroken to see him go. better things are on the way from here on out! for his final entry: porky is in charge of a moving company, and has to empty out a house as fast as possible as the threat of the house toppling into the ocean looms.

open to porky’s moving van (appropriately labeled as such in big black letters on the exterior), nothing more than a little wooden shack. porky and his assistant are fast asleep on their cots inside. elsewhere, pandemic: a house brilliantly built threatens to topple over the edge of a cliff, waves repeatedly throwing the house into the air. a woman darts from window to window, crying for help. the woman is none other than a clarabelle cow facsimile (which would have worked maybe 3 years prior, but the disney influence has definitely begun to fade by this point... except for king.) as her house teeters along, she struggles to keep her furniture in place, pushing it back as various items threaten to run her over as the house leans back and forth.

fretfully does clarabelle (better than calling her “The Cow” over and over and over again) ring up the operator in the telephone, begging for “bunyan” (paul bunyan??). her call is interrupted by a drastic lean of the house, and she topples over the window, the cord snapping in the process. she hangs upside down out of the window, still calling into her broken mouthpiece for bunyan. i’m sure this is a reference going way over my head, but it’s obnoxious regardless.

back at porky’s moving van, the phone rings. porky’s assistant wakes up at the sound of the ring and instantly grows punchy, boxing with an invisible foe at the sound of the ring. porky approaches, mallet in hand, and conks the guy over the head. he immediately stops and drones “okay, booooooss.” a phrase that will be repeated 7 TIMES throughout this cartoon, same voice recording and all! a few times i had talked about a review on imdb titled “Ain’t head injuries funny!?” which i found absolutely hilarious—that was a review for this cartoon.

nevertheless, the phone rings on, and porky answers with a chipper “porky the mover!” clarabelle panics on the other end, derailing about how her furniture won’t stay in place and that her house is bound to tip over anytime. “oh for sakes and gosh! we’ll be right over!” porky then tells his assistant “c’mon dopey, we got a job!” wow, that’s not at all seriously offensive: a subtly black-faced caricature of a monkey named dopey whose only line is saying “okay, boss” over and over again. i’m shocked they didn’t give him a stereotypical accent—this was definitely deliberate and not at all accidental. way to keep it classy, king! guh, that’s nasty.

porky crawls outside of his van, where we see his pet ostrich lulu resting by a tree. he wakes her up and positions for her to get into place in front of the van. climbing onto the front, porky grabs the reins—his assistant arbitrarily “okay boss”ing him for no reason at all—and orders lulu to step on it. they race through town, lulu eventually running on air as a result of the high speeds. the animation is rather nice here, and the accompanying siren sounds are a nice touch.

lulu screeches to a halt at their destination, the van swinging a full rotation and right up close to the audience for impact. porky meets clarabelle, who barks some frantic orders to him. porky and clarabelle rush inside, the door slamming on dopey. he rings the doorbell, and the sound of the bell sends him into a fit once more. don williams animates this absolutely beautiful display of animation, that, surprisingly, is NOT from a redrawn colorized version of the cartoon with a grayscale filter over it. this is the real deal! it seems like even the animators weren’t into this one. not sure what happened here, but it’s pretty damn bad. sorry don. another conk on the head, another “okay boss.”

inside, porky unloads the furniture into some outside, unknown source. no image of the furniture piled outside. a piano threatens to flatten him into a piggy pancake after another jostle from the waves outside, and porky steadies himself on the leaning wall for support. “holy smoke, we’ll never get out of here!” porky drops a mattress outside the window, and somehow manages to push the piano out, which crashes into the earth and forms a gaping hole, any trace of the mattress or piano gone. the waves tilt the house in the opposite direction, and porky crashes into a toy tricycle, sending him down the other end of the house. he barrels into dopey, urging him to “snap out of it.” you’ll never guess what dopey says in response! and, of course, dopey dismantles an entire fireplace from the wall and drags it along.

meanwhile, porky turns his attention to other areas of the house, rolling up a portion of a carpet and rolling it with his feet like a log roller. there is some pretty interesting animation as he weaves between hallways, “sucking up” portions of the rug. it certainly has potential that goes unrealized, though. and, for some reason, lulu is in the house, strutting in the way of porky’s giant log of fabric. he runs her over, wrapping her up in an uncontrollable burrito as he barrels down a staircase and crashes into a wall. the impact sends lulu unraveling back UP the staircase (porky still on the floor), eventually rolling to a halt as she twirls around like a top on her beak.

dopey, on the other hand, carries an array of tables, all stacked neatly together like matryoshka dolls. the tables begin to fall, one after the other, forming a makeshift staircase that dopey scales as he heads towards the window. the table is too big to fit through the window, and he’s sent spinning around, flying back down his staircase and sliding across the floor. instead, he turns his attention towards a shelf full of plates, carelessly dumping them into a barrel. he lifts up the barrel, and sure enough it has no bottom to it: a pile of neatly stacked plates rest on the floor. even though the sound effects make it sound like the porcelain is being reduced to shards. what fun! it would have been so much funnier if he neatly carried away a pile of broken fragments instead of neatly stacked plates.

and, for some reason, lulu swallows an alarm clock. the clock goes off, ringing incessantly. uh oh, ringing! dopey immediately discards his plates, NOW reduced to fragments as he boxes against his invisible foe once more. a spare plate conks him on the head, and he (say it with me now) responds “okay, boss.”

porky runs along with a table on his back, eagerly barreling through the doorway. the table is too big to fit through, and he’s sent into a whirl, flying backwards. as he recollects himself, he attempts to free the lodged table from the doorway, but to no avail. dopey meanders along with some sort of string device, almost like a harp? i think it may be some bed springs. the frame gets stuck in the doorway, and he walks along, still holding onto the strings, which threaten to slingshot him any moment.

and, of course, they do. he’s sent rocketing into porky, who’s still carrying the table. he, in turn, is sent flying out the window, barely holding onto half of the table which is SOMEHOW connected to the house inside... by the legs??? it’s like another slingshot. not the most comprehensible cartoon for sure. to make matters worse, a steamboat is parked outside in the choppy waters, the steam scalding porky’s butt. he’s now sent flying back inside, and just in time: water starts to gush in through the window.

porky struggles to block it out, resorting to swimming upstream as the relentless waterfall keeps on coming. it’s just as well: the climax is quickly put to an end as the water sends all of the furniture streaming conveniently into the back of porky’s van. so, this whole time, they were unloading furniture from the opposite end of the house. way to make less work for yourself! lulu pops up from inside a barrel, alarm clock still lodged in her throat. it rings once more, dopey emerging from a laundry hamper swinging. porky rises from a set of dresser drawers, giving him a good ol’ knock on the head with the mallet. i’ll bet you $5 you don’t know what the last line of the cartoon is.

jack king was starting to grow on me, but after seeing this one, i’m back to my opinion of neutrality leaning on dislike. aside from the blatant racism of dopey’s entire existence, this isn’t a funny cartoon at all, and just feels menial and boring. this feels like something straight out of a 1932 bosko cartoon. i think, ultimately, that was what king’s biggest weakness was, especially in comparison to the others: being behind the times. his cartoons would have fit perfectly during the rampant disney attitude of the harman and ising cartoons, but when tex avery and friz freleng are littering their cartoons with witty humor and gags, king’s cartoons don’t stand a chance. his buddy cartoons were probably the best in comparison to ben hardaway’s (though friz had some pretty good entries), and his beans cartoons weren’t bad, but porky wasn’t his strong suit. shanghaied shipmates was probably his strongest effort, and probably the only cartoon of king’s that i’ll be returning to (watch me eat my words.) in terms of this cartoon, it’s a no: don’t waste your time, there’s really nothing to see here. in terms of jack king: it was a good run, maybe, but now we’re onto bigger and better things. this is where things start to get good.

link!

[a-jynx]

Lost in the Heart & at Sea;  Prologue: More Male-ish

Summary: Sam and Nathan Drake finds themselves running in circles when they catch wind of a new treasure that was supposedly lost to the sea; the Diamond of the Pacific, a ring that was meant for Captain Jules wife. With enemies at every corner, they’ll need all the help they can get... Including, inside jobs. How will Sam and Nathan react when they figure out who Y/N really is? How will Sam react when she shows him sides of her no one else has seen? 

Pairing: Sam Drake x reader; mentions Nathan Drake, Elena Fisher, Victor Sullivan, Nadine Ross, Rafe Adler, 

Warnings: Cursing, blood/violence, gun violence, implied smut, angst, testing fate/loyalty, major injury, 

Notes: This is the first Uncharted Series I have ever attempted, so, I apologize now if it turns out horrible :) I’ve taken a strong liking to the Drake boys once again, and I don’t plan on seizing up hopefully! However, I will still take request for SPN, and other shows/video games! Send an Ask and you’ll be added to my drafts to be written! :) 💖

Enjoy! Feedback is appreciated! 

“Do you remember what you’re being paid for, Y/N?” Nadine whispered as I took a slow sip of champagne, smacking my lips together before glancing at her. “Of course, Nadine. You protect Mr. Adler, I protect the cross. Simple as that.” I tugged at my bottom lip as she nodded, seeming pleased I hadn’t forgotten such a simple assignment -- then, again, it seems she was used to losing artifacts. I finished my glass before hunting down another server, replacing my empty glass with a filled one, I noticed that Mr. Adler was whispering to Nadine, who quickly nodded her head for me to come over. 

“Yes, boss?” I murmured against the glass as Rafe took a second glance at me, his brows furrowing as he took in my appearance, then my outfit. Nadine and I both decided that a dress would’ve been too problematic, for either of us, so I opted for a simple pale black suit that barely showed off my... Assets while Nadine took the sleek emerald jumpsuit. “Who’re you, again?” Mr. Adler asked, waving one of his ringed fingers towards me as I cocked a brow, straightening my back in the process. “Y/N L/N, sir. I work as Ms. Ross’s right hand with anything she’s assigned too. I’m also a translator, guns maid, and bruiser if and when needed, sir.” I listed some of my qualities as Mr. Adler nodded, seeming impressed as he turned back towards Nadine, who wore a proud looking smile. “This is the GIRL you promised, correct?” 

“That’s right. Y/N and I decided that if a fight were to break out, or... The competition was to arrive, she would defend the cross while I protected you. She also decided to add a bit to the role, and it turned out to be more... Male-ish than we planned.” Nadine smirked as Rafe nodded, seeming pleased with the work we had put together earlier that day. I smirked as I thought about how I probably looked -- a young, light-hearted soul who just wanted to bet all of their lunch money on the best treasure this auction could give! My body covered in fine silk while my thick hair was slicked back into a loose bun. Yeah. I look more man-ish than woman-ish. Suddenly, Rafe turned and narrowed his eyes before grabbing Nadine’s bicep, causing her to snap her head towards him before following his gaze, to which I did the same. 

“Victor Sullivan... Shouldn’t he be in a retirement home somewhere?” Rafe hissed before taking a gulp of champagne and moving towards the older gentlemen. I frowned, not recognizing the name as I stepped over to Nadine, she side-glanced me. “Who?” 

“Victor “Sully” Sullivan, he’s one of Nathan Drake’s... Friends, per se. And believe me, if Sullivan is here, Drake isn’t far behind.” She sighed before moving towards the men as I stood back, watching with narrowed eyes. Nathan Drake... Now, that name is familiar. Readjusting my bowtie, I quickly moved towards the small crowd of treasure hunters before stopping next to Nadine, who sent me a smirk as Sullivan took a glance at me. 

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met,” he paused, taking a drag of his cigar before holding out his hand, blowing out the thick smog from his lips. “Victor Sullivan,” I grabbed his hand, flexing it somewhat before giving it a firm shake. “Adam L/N,” I grumbled, wanting to keep the male cover that I had established. Nadine gave me a quick glance as I dropped his hand, I shot her one back as she smirked lightly. Suddenly, glass crashed to the floor in front of us, causing Nadine and me to grow wide-eyed before glancing to Mr. Adler, who now stood with his index finger jabbed into Victor’s chest, yet he seemed unfazed. 

“Get in my way, I might just have to kill you.” Rafe spat, the clear anger causing me to frown before glancing towards the stage as Nadine frowned at Rafe. “The auction will begin shortly.” A woman’s voice echoed through the fancy stage, making Rafe back off of Victor some as Nadine and he moved to the other side of the room, mingling as they went. 

“You’re not going with them?” Victor asked, causing me to glance at him, shrugging gently as I scoffed. “I’m not their dog. They can mingle while I stick around to get drunk.” I chuckled deeply, attempting to keep the gravel in my voice as Victor gave me a glance, up and down, up and down before nodding in approval. “Yeah, don’t I know that feeling.” He laughs lightly, taking another drag as I gently sighed before excusing myself and moving towards the stage. The plan was simple. Rafe would bet the highest bet, and get the cross, that was it. All Nadine and I had to do were make sure nothing happened to him, nor the cross -- simple as pie. Well, until someone shut down the lights. 

I heard the clatter of one of the server’s platters, making me growl and flinch as the emergency lights snapped off. The woman was trying to calm the people as I glanced over to Nadine and Rafe, I noticed Rafe was having a fit. Turning back to the stage, I went wide-eyed; the cross was gone. 

“Dammit.” I sighed before glancing around the room, suddenly noting that one of the doors were cracked open. Setting my jaw, I quickly ran towards it before stopping as I picked up one of the thick black bowties that the server’s had been wearing. Glancing up, I quickly took down the hallway before taking down the long hallway. I slowed to a halt when I noticed that the study quarters had been forced into; the door smashed and splinters everywhere. Narrowing my eyes, I stepped through the mess of wood, frowning as I noticed one of the large windows were open. “You’re not getting away that easy,” I growled, moving towards the window, only to hear the floorboards creak in agony behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I hissed as I dove back from a large globe that had barely missed my face. Stumbling back, I clenched my fist as I noticed it was one of the more... Attractive waiters; I hadn’t caught his name. 

“Well, well, well, I see someone wants Avery’s cross... How bad are you willing to get hurt for it?” The man hissed as he sat the cross on the shelving, making me smirk. Rolling my tongue over my lips, I moved towards him, quickly throwing a left hook and sweeping my leg under his own before whirling around and proudly smirking as he groaned. 

“Don’t know. Depends on how well you know how to fight.” I spat, reaching up to grab the cross, only to be brought back as the man’s arms wrapped tightly around my chest, making me groan from the pressure on my breast. He suddenly dropped me, confused. He went to say something, but I quickly swiped my leg under his once more, only to stand and yank my Beretta from the pocket inside my blazer. “Alright, now, stay down...” I spat, keeping my gun trained on him before reaching up and grabbing the cross. Flexing my hand around it, I smirked before slowly backing up towards the door. 

“Y’know, they’ll just use you then throw you away right!” He shouted after me, causing me to halt in my actions as I glanced over my shoulder, seeing him slowly stand with the help of the large oak desk. I snarled, lifting my gun higher as I kept the cross tight in my grip. “What did you say?” 

“I said, they’ll just use you then throw you away -- throw you right to the sharks if you will. You can’t trust them,” 

“Oh, and I’m supposed to trust you? You’re a thief!” I spat, my hot-headed nature quickly peering through. I took a step back as he moved forward, keeping his hands in front of him, showing he was no threat but... But, I knew better. “I’m not the one holding the goods, right now, am I?” He smirked as I scoffed, my grip on my gun faltering some as I took another step back, not wanting to test the waters too much. “God, you think this is some... Game, don’t you? You’re nothing but a small child.” 

“I could say the same about you, my friend.” 

“I’m not your friend.” 

“Sure you are, just tell me your name and we’ll be the best of buddies. Braid each other’s hair even!” The man laughed as I narrowed my eyes. He really believes that he’ll walk out of here alive with these lame lines. I scoffed, rolling my eyes slightly as I shook my head, some of my hair falling into my eyes. “All you need to know is this, my friend,” I paused, hissing the same words he said before. “If I see you again, I won’t hesitate to shoot.” 

“Noted. Now, can I have my cross back-” 

“Y/N?! Y/N, did you find the- Sam?” Nadine skidded to a stop, whipping out her gun as the man before me, Sam, quickly held up his hands again. “I take it you know him.” I slowly drop my gun, keeping it my grasp as I showed the cross to Nadine. “I thought he was dead.” 

“What can I say... I’m full of surprises.” He winked as I narrowed my eyes, making Nadine glance at me before turning back to Sam with a smirk. “So, where’s your little brother, Samuel? Lost among the rooftops?” 

“How am I supposed to know that, huh, Nadine? But, I would love to be properly introduced to your friend here -- he seems like a great guy.” He smirked as Nadine frowned, glancing at me as I pursed my lips, he was starting to pop off smart remarks and it had my blood boiling. “Adam. Adam L/N.” I spat as Nadine turned towards me, holding a questioning look in her eyes as I shrugged her off. 

“Well, Adam, Nadine... I’d love to stay a bit longer but I’ve really gotta bounce out of here.” He sighed, showing as if he were really upset to be leaving. I stood a bit straighter as he smirked, making me grow wide-eyed as I glanced back, only to be slammed in the back of the head by a heavy force, my vision instantly going black... 

To be continued... 

Well, that’s the first chapter of my new Uncharted series... I honestly like how this chapter went, but it’s a bit short. However, I’ll hopefully make ch. 2 longer, but I really hope this does well because I have plans for it :)  But, if it does end up flopping, I guess I could separate write the scenes I have thought about then make those drabbles/one-shots 🤔 

Anyway, let me know what you guys think! Feedback is appreciated! 

Tags are open, as well as requests! 💖

[mrswortham-blog]

Buckle Up!

Just a few short months ago, I thought I wouldn’t be writing something like this. We had been trying for the last piece of our puzzle, but had come to terms with the fact that maybe it wasn’t meant for us.

December 12th, 2019...this was the day our lives shifted. We’re pregnant! Of course, all the thoughts start flooding my mind, like “can I do this?”, “I’m already high-risk, now advanced maternal age”; negativity. The reality is we can, and we will. The past month has been a roller-coaster of emotions. I’m currently taking progesterone to maintain the pregnancy through the second trimester, because evidently that’s what happens when you decide to have a baby at 35. My OB is watching me closely until the Maternal Fetal Medicine clinic takes over, usually around week 20.

A little history on me and my previous pregnancies: I am O negative, and I have an antibody known as Anti D. Both kids have been A positive, in short this means that when my body identifies them, it will attack them in an attempt to eliminate the “threat”. The Anti D attaches itself it the baby’s red blood cells(RBCs), causing hemolysis, or destruction. The further along in the pregnancy, the higher the baby’s demand for RBCs, and the greater the risk to the baby.

With Jaden, we didn’t know of this issue prior to delivery, so we didn’t monitor, as it usually presents after your first pregnancy. Jaden was extremely sick, spent a couple weeks in NICU, received a blood transfusion, then finally made it home. If the blood transfusion wasn’t successful, then the next step is a complete or partial exchange of blood, where they take some, then give some, take, then give, until a designated amount has been replaced with blood that will not “attack” the baby’s RBCs.

With Avery, my titer was drawn at 20 weeks to determine if my body had identified her presence and reacted, and this came back as “off the charts”, meaning the condition could no longer be monitored through bloodwork. From then on I went in weekly, and then three times weekly, to have a fetal doppler to monitor the rate at which the blood was flowing through her brain to determine severity and how long she could continue to go on like this. Around 28 weeks we were told that Avery’s doppler showed that she was one point below requiring in-utero blood transfusion, which we would have to travel to Houston to receive, and this would have to be done roughly every three weeks until delivery due to the demand for RBCs. Every week we went in we though that would be the week we were sent to Houston. That day never came.

At 36 weeks I had an amniocentesis to determine Avery’s lung function and readiness for delivery, as her doppler was starting to become increasingly concerning, and signs of polyhydraminos, or increased amniotic fluid, telling us that she was struggling, to save you the extra medical explanation. Her lungs weren’t ready yet, so I received a steroid injection and was scheduled to deliver that following week. At 37 weeks, our beautiful, but very sick, baby girl was here. She went straight to NICU with a dear nurse friend of mine (who I would later get to work alongside) where she would stay for the next 10 days, under lights. Never receiving blood, but in the NICU world, females typically do better in their journey, requiring less intervention. Not always, but typically. The first time I saw a video of Avery when she was taken from me to the resuscitation island with NICU staff it was actually more than a year later, and at that point I had transferred to NICU, and had cared for extremely sick babies. I cried watching that video because her body was literally lifeless. Most babies come out swinging, not all but most, and she was like a limp noodle, just laying there letting them do what they needed to do for, not even letting out a peep. She was severely anemic, which causes extreme drowsiness, among other things.

So, here we are. Number 3. We have decided that we are prepared for whatever path this may take us and are focusing on enjoying every, little, thing. It’s amazing the perspective you take when you KNOW that this is it. Anthony and I are so much more mature having been through what we have, we know the risks, and we know the reward. I really struggled with Avery’s pregnancy because I was coming from a place of little knowledge, little faith, and big fear. I was a basket case, to say the least. I was working full-time nights at the Children’s Hospital, sometimes ending my shift in time to head over to MFM clinic for another checkup.The whole time I held on to the hope that maybe things would be okay, maybe I would get to be like other parents and have that “golden hour” with my baby, and not have to send her away, relying on skilled professionals to save her life. Expectations lead to let downs. This time around, we know this baby will need intensive care at birth, we know we will, most likely, leave the hospital empty- handed, which is devastating, but necessary. This time around I will have personal knowledge of what will be going on in NICU, and I’m excited to say that there’s a unit full of people that I know, love, and trust to care for our last bundle of joy. We can do this. Thanks for being a part of our journey.

https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/rhesus-disease/diagnosis/