#Enemies to Chained-Up-In-An-Abandoned-Bathroom-Together

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

not "i ship these characters" or "i want them to bond platonically" but a secret 3rd thing (I want them to be forced to interact by the Narrative bc they would HATE that)

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (15 - Alt Ending)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda refuse to leave without you.

Warnings: dark themes, gun mentions, threatened suicide, manipulation

A/N: never expected to write this despite it being highly requested, but with me being stuck with Particular Taste and in the mood to write some angst, I ended up doing it. I’m still down to write angst, so I may do another Sad Song Sunday, but I’ll let you know.

Original part 15

-

“You worried us, printsessa, disappearing like that,” Natasha addresses you in a chilling tone as the two of them stop a few feet away from you. “And we’ll deal with that later, after you tell Wesley to come out so we can punish him first.”

“He’s not here,” you tell her calmly. “His only job was to bring me here--”

“And take the tracker out of your leg, which we will be putting back,” Wanda interjects with a stern expression. “Now you can either come with us to the car willingly or we’ll drag you.”

“I won’t be doing either of those things.” You stand slowly, lifting the gun to your temple as you go. “Your only choices are to leave me here and go back to the way your lives were before I came in, or you can let me die. If you take me again, I’ll just fight you every day until you wish you’d killed me yourself. No matter how you manipulate my mind, my true self will never love someone who wants to control me. I’ll tell you how much I hate you for ruining my life every second I’m able, and I’ll kill myself the moment I get the chance to do so.”

You notice the glassy look in their eyes as they face each other, and you knew they were having a silent conversation in their minds. Seconds feel like minutes as they seem to discuss their options, eventually turning back to face you. Wanda is fully crying now, and Natasha seems to be physically holding back her own emotional break.

“Please don’t do this, printsessa,” Wanda chokes out with a cautious step forward. “We just want you to come home.”

“What’s home to you is a prison to me.”

“But it didn’t always feel like prison, right? Remember those days we’d bake together, and watch your favorite movies all day?”

“Or that time we took you to Coney Island for a week straight because you couldn’t get enough of it?” Natasha added and you sighed.

“You don’t get it, do you? I was obsessed with those Coney Island trips because it was the only time you didn’t make me feel like a kid that would get lost if I wandered too far! The only time I felt like an actual human instead of a fucking meat puppet!”

“The moment we decided to trust you a little, you abandoned us!” Natasha yells so loudly that Wanda even flinches. “We’re in Nebraska right now because you couldn’t stand being a good girl and waiting for us to get home!”

“You left me with a fucking babysitter, Natasha! It doesn’t matter that it was someone I actually wanted around. You installed cameras and tried to bug Wesley and me. You put a tracker in my leg! If you trusted me, why did you go through so much to make sure I couldn’t leave? You can’t say that you love me and treat me like you don’t.”

“I’m so sorry.” Wanda’s voice comes out in a whisper as she steps forward again, and you watch her eyes for any hints of red. “I never meant to make you feel so cornered, but you have to understand that I’m an Avenger. I’ve seen what enemies are out there and at one point I was one, so I just wanted to do what I could to make sure you never ended up in the wrong hands.”

“She’s right,” Natasha chimes in, clearing her throat as a single tear slips down her cheek. “I know what lengths some people will go to hurt the loved ones of the other side because I used to do that exact thing. I’d let the world end before I let any harm come to either of you, and I guess I went a little overboard with protecting you because Wanda has a bit of an advantage.”

“I know I’ll never understand what it’s like to do what you do, and to live with your pasts…” You take a deep breath as you feel a lump forming in your throat, and the hand holding the gun to your head begins to shake. “But I do know what love is supposed to feel like, and it’s not this. I shouldn’t have to worry about setting you off because I didn’t agree with something, or waking up from a week-long mind trance because you didn’t want me to fight back.”

“How about we start over?” Natasha offers, glancing at Wanda and turning back to you once she nods. “No trackers, restraints, babysitters or manipulation. Just us getting to know you and vice versa, and hopefully rebuilding the love you once felt for us.”

“Please.” Wanda gives a pointed look toward the gun still pressed against your temple. “I know how upsetting this already must be for you, so please. Let us help you make it better. Let us fix this and hopefully have an even better relationship in the future.”

“We love you, and we agree that we should’ve gone about this in a healthier way. Please give us the chance to make this right.”

“And you promise there will be no more tricks?” you ask, and Wanda nods as two more tears make an appearance.

“Cross my heart--”

“--and hope to die.”

You stand there for what feels like minutes, your gaze bouncing between the two women in front of you, hoping to gauge their level of sincerity on expressions alone. As much as you didn’t trust them because of everything they’d done before, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that missed those happier moments, and wouldn’t mind starting over to create more. Perhaps it was worth a shot, if they were truly serious about not messing with your mind anymore.

“Okay,” you finally answer, and you notice the relief appear on their faces. “If you’re serious about starting over and doing this the right way, I’ll give this a chance. But you’re going to have to wait a long time before I start to trust you.”

Wanda grins at the two of you as Natasha approaches you cautiously, and you place the gun on the chair behind you before allowing her to pull you into a hug that you melt into surprisingly fast. Your other girlfriend joins the embrace, and her ecstatic giggle is the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.

-

“Y/N/N...hey wake up!”

You jump up suddenly, nearly bumping into the person standing above you. After a few moments of blinking to adjust to the bright sunlight, you turn your head to see your cousin sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Wesley?!” you gasp as he grins in acknowledgement. “What are you doing here and why do you look like shit?”

“You know, I’m gonna let that go because it’s your wedding day, but I’ll get you back later.”

“Wait, my what?”

“Jesus, did you hit your head or something?”

“Feels like it,” you grumble as your eyes close for a moment.

“Bachelorette party must’ve been crazy.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You sigh and face him again as your eyes open. “Did you have a crazy night too or did you come here all bruised up?”

“I got into a pretty bad accident a little while ago,” he answers after a few moments of silence. “I guess I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want you to worry, but I probably should’ve said something when I got the invitation in the mail. Which reminds me, it’s time for you to get ready.”

He stands up slowly with the help of a cane beside him and limps out of the room, and a chill washes over you as the door closes behind him. You move to run your hands over your face and pause as you feel a cool metal bump against your nose, and you lower your hands to see a ring on the appropriate finger.

Of course it made sense considering--according to Wesley--you were getting married today, and the ring is exactly what you would want, but it just doesn’t make sense how you got here. As you move onto the bathroom and begin showering, you get hit with flashes of moments with Natasha and Wanda that include the moment they proposed, but it feels a bit more like watching a movie than a memory should. Still, there’s a warm feeling in your chest as you come to terms with the fact that you’re marrying two people that have been so good to you since your relationship was formed.

“Come in!” you respond to a knock on your door as you slip on a robe, smiling as Pepper enters the room holding what seemed to be a dry cleaner’s bag and a small jewelry box.

“Hey there, just bringing your dress.” She drapes it carefully over the end of the bed and faces you while holding the box out to you. “And your almost wives wanted you to wear this.”

You take the object from her and lift the top off, gasping as a necklace is revealed. It consists of a simple silver chain, but the pendant has a spider with a prominent red gem that almost seems to glow as the sunlight makes contact with it.

“Need some help?”

You nod with an appreciative smile as you hand her the necklace and turn around, feeling your smile widen as the cool pendant touches your warm skin. Your fingers run over the spider while you wait for Pepper to secure the chain around your neck, and you face her when she pulls away.

“Thank you. Wait!” you call out as she turns to leave. “I just have to ask...Do you think going through with this wedding is a smart idea?”

“Well, I haven’t been around the three of you much, but I’ve seen the way Natasha and Wanda react whenever you’re mentioned. It’s equivalent to someone finding out they won the lottery, honestly. I also know how much time and effort they put into making this house as safe as possible to put their minds at ease about you while they’re away on missions. In my opinion, I think you’re in good hands here, but I’m also not there for the little things. I’d recommend just listening to what your heart tells you.”

You thank her before she leaves the room, letting her words echo in your mind for a bit before moving to get ready for the ceremony. The dress, you quickly discover, is an exact replica of one you’d seen in a magazine that you loved so much you saved it in a scrapbook for years. How you’d managed to track it down, you had no idea, but the questioning thoughts seemed to fade away a bit once you realized how amazing it felt to be finally wearing it.

“How do you feel?” Wesley asks once you reach the bottom of the stairs, and you loop your arm through his free one as he leads you to the back yard.

“If I’m being honest, I’m super nervous about all this. Everything’s felt like a weird coma dream since the moment I opened my eyes.”

“Hey, you’re about to spend the rest of your life with Natasha and Wanda,” he reminds you quietly, and your gaze shifts away from his joyous expression to the small crowd that begins to stand upon your arrival and Natasha and Wanda smiling at you from the end of the flowery path. 

“It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

-

**for future dark!fics you must be 18+ and have your age in your bio in order to be tagged**

Tags: @littlegasps @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @imnotasuperhero @creepingwolfberry @mazikeensdecker @cherrieloco @bebe404 @venteen @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @fayhar @becka107 @wannabe-fic-reader @beforeoursecrets @cosmicbrownies7 @messuhp @mjaudrey @sxphiaswitch @trikruismybitch @muted-stoneheart @multi-images @just-a-normalpersons @want-to-watch-it-burn @stop-drop-and-drumroll @stickystudentlightmug @pianogirl2121 @slut-for-nat

[sinsbymanka]

Hello! I uh. Got so many Fenders prompts guys. Like. A lot. 

I combined three of them because I really wanted to try this ship and I really liked writing it a lot. I hope I did them justice! Thank you to @dalish-rogue​, @morganlefaye79​, and @wardenari​ for the prompts! This is for @dadrunkwriting​!

Title: Not What Was Intended Ship: Anders/Fenris Rating: T Word Count: 1561 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crimes & Criminals, Bathing/Washing, Sharing a Bed, Bickering, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Fenris doesn't mean to go to the clinic. But when he sees the windows smashed in, he has to check it out. He is not doing it for himself, he is doing it for Hawke. It's a good lie. Almost believable.

Read on AO3

Fenris does not mean to stroll past the clinic. 

It is nothing more than a momentary lapse in judgement. He is too used to walking these darkened streets so the chain link fences, the broken street lamps, they all weave a background tapestry he hardly notices. His feet drag him onwards down the path he usually walks with Hawke, despite the fact that Hawke is not with him. 

Fenris could have gone home. Instead he turns the corner to find the clinic’s windows smashed, broken glass littering the cracked sidewalk. Fluorescent lights flicker inside, although whether the bulbs themselves are finally reaching the end of their life or Anders has not paid the bill again, Fenris can’t say. 

He hesitates a moment, his contraband ammunition heavy against his chest where he tucked it inside his coat. If he is caught with it, the papers Varric somehow obtained will be useless. He’ll be back in Tevinter before he can blink, and for all Fenris knows Anders is about to be dragged out by the Templars kicking and screaming, blonde hair falling wildly about his face, eyes crackling…

That image forces him into movement. He ducks quietly through the ajar door, suspicious eyes darting into every corner. He tells himself he is there for Hawke, for Varric, for all those who for some reason believe the meddlesome doctor and his idealistic opinions are worth the wrath of the rich and powerful. 

Fenris almost convinces himself. It is a good lie. One Varric himself would approve of. 

But the truth shrivels it the moment Fenris slips past the abandoned reception desk and into the triage area. Because standing in the middle of the room is Anders, surrounded by debris and refuse. 

Something loosens in Fenris’ chest immediately. He crosses the wreckage of the clinic easily, voice dropping to a low growl. “What have you done?” 

Anders finally lifts his gaze from the trash littering the floor. Fenris expects a flash of irritation, a scowl to match his own, but it does not come. Instead Anders rubs his stubbled jaw and shakes his head. 

“Just what I needed. A lecture. Andraste’s pillowy tits. Could this day get any worse?” 

There’s a bitter thread of hurt in his voice that makes Fenris uneasy. He does not pull his gaze from Anders, jerking his chin to the destruction surrounding them. “You were raided?” 

“I wish,” Anders snorts. “I expect the Templars to fuck me over cause of what I’m doing. Who I’m helping.” 

“Varric pays the Coterie. And the Carta. This was not them.” 

“I’ve told him to stop but you know how he is.” Anders puffs out his chest in mockery. “Me? Annoyingly taking care of your problems? I’d never do something so blighted risky and-” 

Anders bends down, stumbling to stop in his impression as he picks up a long, ruined piece of unravelled gauze. He sighs hopelessly as he looks at it before he shakes his head and lets it drop in defeat. 

“You’re right, you know.” Anders looks up, a bitter grin twisting his lips into something monstrous and out of place on his warm features. Something that brings the dread from when he saw the broken windows back tenfold. “I’m down here risking all our asses and for what?” 

“Justice and the greater good, or so I’ve been told,” Fenris replies dryly. 

“So a bunch of kids whose bullet wounds I stitched up last week, no Templars involved, could come back and steal thousands of dollars worth of medical supplies and ruin even more. All while I was out doing home visits for a solid thirty hours.” 

Anders closes his eyes, agony breaking over his features, making him look three times his age. “Maker. I’ll never recover from this.” 

The statement rings too loudly in the heavy silence. It stretches on and Fenris waits for the other man to crack a flippant joke, but it doesn’t come. It is up to Fenris to fill it as best he can. 

“This is unnecessarily dramatic,” he sniffs. “Hawke will gladly resupply you.” 

“I’m not living on Hawke’s charity,” Anders snaps. 

“Then you’ll live on Varric’s. How long have you been awake?” 

Anders finally shows some sign of his own temper, straightening up. “Sorry, should I call you daddy or-” 

“Fasta vass, you are impossible.” Fenris surges forward and grabs Anders by the cuff of his coat. The other man is so dizzy from exhaustion it takes almost none of his strength to drag him from the triage area deep into the clinic.

Fenris himself has been stitched up in this location enough times to know it like the tattoos in his skin. He shoves Anders toward the showers with a growl. “You smell of disease and stale sweat. I will secure the clinic.” 

“You say the nicest-” 

Fenris slams the door shut behind the other man and turns grimly to the clinic to survey the damage. He doesn’t bother with the ruined supplies or the evidence of the ransacking. Instead, he begins the slow, methodical business of checking the exits. Securing the bolts. The windows are, of course, a problem. He drags clean sheets from the cupboards and pins them in place to keep out the wind and cold, but Anders needs new windows. 

And perhaps an alarm system. Or a dog instead of the fifty stray cats that linger in the alley. 

When he’s done what he can, he makes his way back to the bathroom. The water is running and Fenris thinks only to pop his head in and announce that he will return with boards for the windows. 

He’s stopped short, once more, by the sight of Anders. No longer standing, but curled into the corner of the shower. Knobbly knees are pulled to his chest, sandy hair plastered to his skin. His shoulders shake with silent sobs. 

Fenris should leave. 

Yet again, he doesn’t. 

He closes the bathroom door behind him and slips his coat from his shoulders. By the time Anders looks up, blinking water from his eyes, Fenris is laying it and his illegal purchases on the counter. 

“What are you-” 

“You are clearly incapable of taking care of yourself.” Fenis lifts the hem of his cotton shirt over his head, not daring to meet Anders eyes. He knows the other man is tracing the elaborate designs, a brutal reminder of his life before, and he doesn’t wish to see it. “If you drown in your own shower, I will have to explain it to Hawke.” 

Anders’ silence is more maddening than his constant babble. Fenris braces himself to turn, only to find that instead of staring at him, Anders is gloomily examining the grout in the shower. 

“I know you think I’m pathetic.” 

Fenris climbs carefully into the shower and grabs one tiny bottle of expired shampoo donated from a cheap motel and a limp sponge. “I have never said that is the case.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I do not have to justify things I have never said.” 

Fenris squirts the sickly sweet shampoo on the sponge and rubs it between his fingers. Anders’ eyes latch onto the movement quietly. Fenris thinks his words over before he turns to Anders. 

“I am envious of your desire to help others. I believe that is a part of me that is gone.” 

It had been ruined, as so many things had. Before he can think too much about his past or about the pale freckled skin slicked with water, he brings the sponge to Anders’ chest and swipes it over his collarbone. 

The motion is soothing. Dull. Repetitive. Soap beads on his skin and falls to the drain. Anders is silent, the only noise the lukewarm water streaming from above and the sound of their quiet breaths. 

“They should not have abused your kindness,” Fenris finally says, flicking his eyes up to meet Anders’. 

A moment of silence, fragile as the soap bubbles. Fenris takes hold of Anders’ thin, lithe arms and hauls him to his feet. He tries not to think of the way the other man sways on his feet, the brush of their chest together. He carefully does not look at the golden hair decorating his chest or the taut muscles beneath his skin. 

Fenris tries not to hear the soft whisper against his ear as he drags the sponge down Anders’ stomach. 

“They shouldn’t have abused yours.” 

Everything passes in a blur. He does not remember how he finishes washing Anders, only the brief tantalizing flashes of skin and warmth that are seared into his memory. But the other man is almost limp with exhaustion as Fenris drags him to a cot. 

Anders trips into it, taking Fenris with him. He curses under his breath and Anders chuckles, warm and real and so much better than the heartbroken man he found. 

“You can’t stay here,” Anders murmurs sleepily, lips twitching in amusement. 

“I have no wish to,” Fenris hisses between his teeth. 

The cot is soft, just barely big enough for both of them, and his arm is trapped beneath a man who is rapidly letting exhaustion overtake him. Fenris means only to rest there until he can free himself without waking him. 

He does not mean to fall asleep beside him, arm over his waist, face pressed into his shoulder.

Yet he does.

[alj4890]

Six Sentence Sunday

I'm behind on so much due to life in general, LOL. But to show that I am working on things here is a sneak peek into the next parts of Delicate (which this should be the last chapter of this short series), And Then I Left You, and a few drabbles I have in my WIP folder.

tagging a few that might be interested  @jooous @krsnlove @nomadics-stuff   @twinkleallnight @motorcitymademadame @gkittylove99 @darley1101  @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles t @lodberg​   @my-heart-beats-for-ya​ @aworldoffandoms​ @flyawayboo​  @trappedinfanfiction​ @everythingmarvelsherlockspn​  @sophxwithers​ @esmckenzie​ 

Delicate

This might be the first ball in the history of Drake's years in Cordonia to actually cause a certain excitement. He usually put up with the pomp and traditions to simply be with those he cared about. For years it was to support Liam, then going meant he could hang out with Riley, Hana, and Maxwell.

And then there were his activities in secret for a year with Olivia.

He knew she would be arriving soon. Her absence from Cordonia had been one he felt more acutely than any other. His failure in telling her how he felt about her, his inability to have a civil conversation, even his voicemail had kept him fixated on this date.

He intended for this new year to involve a new relationship with Olivia. He simply needed to find a moment alone with her.

Which as he entered the drawing room Riley and Liam used frequently for their closest friends, he realized that was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. All their friends had come home for the ball.

"I can't believe they gave us that ridiculous moniker." Thomas shook his head.

"The press isn't always known for their intelligence." Liam said, fighting a smile.

"Thomanda." Amanda laughed just saying it. "It sounds like some weird foot fungus cream."

"The press have had five years to come up with anything better than that." Thomas wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders. "They should have combined our last names. Brunt is more tolerable than Thomanda."

Maxwell rolled off the couch laughing. "We now have to come up with crazy couple names for all of us!"

"We were given Riam." Riley replied. "Personally I prefer Liley, but Riam stuck."

"Naxwell or Madia." Amanda said between giggles while pointing at Maxwell and Nadia. "That's your possible couple's name."

"Naxwell sounds like a snack cake or cookie." Riley added with a chuckle.

"We are sweet." Maxwell responded, cuddling Nadia close.

Hana sighed at seeing them all so happy together. "What would mine and Rashad's be?"

"Rashana?" Riley offered.

"Oh I like that so much better than what I thought." Amanda laughed. "I at first thought Hahad."

The group burst into laughter while more couple names were bandied about.

"So what do we dub Olivia and Ethan?" Liam asked.

"Ethalivia?" Hana offered.

"Olithan?" Maxwell added.

"Oooh! Olithan!" Riley exclaimed. "Sounds like a sea monster. Olivia will love it!"

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

And Then I Left You

Thomas had worried that first day how they would handle the hotel situations he believed they were bound to encounter. He had gotten used to Olivia's secret passageways allowing him to see Amanda whenever he wanted.

He should have known that the intelligent lady he adored had already solved that problem.

Pulling onto a gravel road, she drove him toward a cottage that sat alone in a rolling meadow dotted here and there with trees. The two-story, thatched roof building sat amidst large Cordonian oak trees. Roses twined around a drain pipe while wisteria grew in wild abandon adding even more beauty to the rough stone walls.

"I know we could stay somewhere different with each place we visit," Amanda explained. "But then I thought we could stay our entire time somewhere in the middle of it all. It will mean more driving each day, but we will have nothing but privacy here."

Thomas stepped out and followed her inside. The cottage was just as charming on the inside as it was on the outside. Much of the furniture was designed strictly for comfort and a few for whimsy. The wooden floors creaked with each step as he explored the different rooms.

Upstairs, there were two bedrooms directly across from one another with a bathroom dividing them.

His lips curved at knowing he wouldn't have to find a way to sneak around and see her whenever they weren't out in public.

"What do you think?" She asked, a bit nervous from his silence.

"It's charming." He set his arms around her waist. "And perfect for our needs."

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

This next sneak peek is a second part to the Liam angst I posted earlier 😬 So sorry how dark that went. Since many wanted to see how Liam is after losing Riley, Drake and Maxwell, here is some of how it is going for him. Let’s just say it isn’t easy and will take some special persuasion from those left behind to help him.

Liam ignored all of it. He went to his chambers and remained secluded from the world for days. He refused entry to anyone who knocked. He simply sat there staring at the few mementos he had of those he had lost.

He flipped through the photographs Maxwell had insisted on taking of the three of them through the years. He paused at the few his mother was in, wishing she was here now to tell him how to move on from something like this. She had encouraged his friendships with Maxwell and Drake, knowing he would need them to face life in the public eye.

And now he would never have them again.

Setting the old album aside, he reached for the key chain Riley had given him the night of the Coronation. Thinking of that night and their confessions of love only to be cruelly parted...his head dropped as he carefully set it back on the table. Next he picked up the pearl he had given her. The plans and hopes they had while meeting in secret. It had helped him through every moment he was kept from her side.

He then lifted the photograph Anna had taken of them for their engagement. Liam's fingers trembled as they brushed against the image of Riley. Her smile so warm. Her eyes so filled with joy.

Reaching for a decanter, he attempted to metaphorically drown his sorrows. In one night he had lost everything he had held dear. How was he to go on from this? There was no enemy to slay, no way to find those he loved and rescue them. Nothing. Nothing except funerals to attend. Nothing but giving them to the cold, unforgiving dirt.

All he had ahead of him was visits to graveyards. He knew his father didn't have much longer to live. It would be just one more loss in his already devastated heart.

Death was what his life had become. He had feared that when his mother was poisoned. Many a night he would wake up crying at the thought of being completely and utterly alone. This long forgotten fear rose up within him, showing that it hadn't been a mere nightmare. It had been a premonition.

Dropping his head in his hands, he sobbed into the void that had become his only companion.

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

This next peek is a miniseries idea that will be called, Mixed Signals, that hit after that last Open Heart Chapter. It will focus on my MC Chris getting closer to Tobias (and gah, I am wishing now she could dump all the LI's and be with him. His humor and confidence have won me completely over). It will take place in both books 2 and 3 and focus on her frustration with Ethan and Bryce never committing or saying how they truly feel about her. Since, especially in the chapters before the Hawaii trip, they both would randomly act romantic towards her then friend zone her in the next scene, I'm letting this series show her choosing to step back and see what she wants and needs from a significant other. This begins after the attack and Chris has yet to return to work. She goes to Mass Kenmore to thank Tobias for coming to help find a cure for her and ends up opening up to him a bit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tobias asked softly, gently squeezing her close.

"Not really." Chris admitted. "Everyone keeps telling me to give myself time and all." She eased back. "I wish they would leave me alone."

He kept his hands on her waist while studying her. "Then tell them."

"Ha. You've met them." She snorted. "They don't take orders like that well."

"True." He replied. "You want me to do it?" His smirk brought a grin to her face. "Ethan already considers me a pain in his ass. What's one more mark against me?"

She laughed, while dabbing at her eyes and nose. "After what you did for me? No way am I letting you continue to be the bad guy."

"Aww shucks, Valentine." Tobias teased. "You're going to give me a big head."

"As if it wasn't already big enough." She teased back. Tilting her head, she pretended to study him. "How do you lift it?"

"I work out." He winked then stood up. "I'm glad you came by."

"Me too." She held her hand out.

He shook his head. "You already hugged me. I figure that could be our thing."

"Our thing?"

Tobias pulled her back into his embrace.

"Yeah." He hugged her close. "Now that you won't let me be the big bad guy, I think this means you want us to be friends."

"Whoa. I'm merely a girl coming to thank a guy for saving her life." She teased. "Don't be thinking this means more than that."

"Sorry. Thought is already there." He countered, letting her go. "You're stuck with me now Chris whether you like it or not."

"Ugh, fine." She playfully grumbled. "I already deal with so many ego maniacs. What's one more?"

He opened his office door for her. "I knew you would agree."

"Just because you won this round doesn't mean you'll win them all, Dr. Carrick." Chris warned.

"Allow me to let you in on a little secret, Dr. Valentine," he leaned down close to whisper. "I win all the rounds that are important to me." Swiping up the folder he had previously been studying, he saluted her. "See you soon."

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

And finally another miniseries "What if" for Thomas Hunt and my OC. I've been inspired by rewriting And Then I Met You and decided to do the same with their story in Second Chances. Here's a peek of Amanda actually telling Thomas she is pregnant instead of storming out of his office. I've yet to come up with a title I like for it, LOL, so we'll just wait on that.

Amanda ignored the words Thomas was saying. She didn't want to hear that he had fallen for an actress. All she could focus on was her pain turning into fury. How could he have moved on so quickly?

She wanted to hit him. Never in her life had she ever wanted to hurt someone so much as she did Thomas.

She felt sick to her stomach thinking about him and Kara. The nausea reminded her that she couldn't give in to her desire. She had someone else to think of. Someone who deserved every sacrifice she knew she would have to make to keep Thomas in their child's life.

"...and that's why I am sending Kara flowers." Thomas stepped closer to her when he noticed how pale she was. "Amanda?"

Her eyes lifted to his. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out the reason she came to his office.

"I'm pregnant."

She watched as her words slowly registered. The shock of her announcement caused him to collapse in the chair she had been sitting in.

"Pregnant." He breathed. "Are you certain?"

"Yes." Amanda clasped her hands in front of her. "I wouldn't have come here if I had not had it confirmed by a doctor."

Thomas knew she wouldn't have darkened his door for anything. If there was one characteristic they shared, it was pride. Neither ever wanted to appear foolish.

He got up and took a step toward her, uncertain how he was supposed to react. "What do you intend to do?"

Tears sparked her eyes. "Well, I am going to keep the baby and I hoped..." She bit her lip while lowering her eyes. Seems he had no intention to get back together with her. "I hope you will want to be a part of our child's life."

Thomas reached for her hand. Just because he wasn't sure whether or not to try a romantic relationship with her again, it didn't mean that he didn't want to be there for her.

"I will." He promised.

Her head jerked up and she noticed that there was no condemnation towards her reflected in his expression. Though the surprise announcement had knocked him for a loop, he was at least trying to do the right thing.

Though she had hoped to hear that he wanted to try again, she was vastly relieved to hear his promise.

"Are you planning on staying in L.A. for a while?" He asked.

"I could stay a few days." She wiped her tears with her fingers. A nervous laugh escaped her. "I wasn't sure if you would want me to after I told you about the baby."

"I would like to discuss how we will work this out." He squeezed her hand before urging her to sit down. "I have some meetings that I don't think I'll be able to get out of, but how about dinner tonight at my home?"

"I don't want to interrupt your date." She struggled with the word. "I can--"

"I'm not dating anyone." Thomas explained. "That's why I told you the flowers were more of a professional courtesy than romantic in nature."

"So you and Kara Bennett?" Amanda felt a brief spark of hope. "You're not--"

"No. She's one of the actresses on an upcoming film I'm directing." He replied.

"I see." She mumbled.

"Does 7:30 sound good?" He asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Should I pick you up?" He remembered she was staying at a hotel.

"No, I'll call for a car." She got to her feet again and held her hand out. "I know you have work and a lot to think over." Her lips curved into a sad smile. "But thank you for meeting with me and hearing me out."

He came around his desk and pulled her into a hug. Realizing how hard it was for her to come here, touched something within his heart. She seemed so fragile that he felt the need to comfort her.

Hugging her was the safest way in his opinion.

She trembled in his arms before returning his hug. Struggling with her tears, she laughed.

"Forgive me. I haven't had control of my emotions these last few months. These pregnancy hormones have a mind of their own."

Thomas handed her some tissues. "No need to apologize."

She thanked him as she dabbed under her eyes. "If I'm not crying then I am losing my temper. Poor Maxwell. I practically jumped down his throat for drinking the last Sprite on the way here."

His eyebrows lifted. "Maxwell came with you?"

"Everyone came with me." She shook her head in exasperation. "They were worried that you--" she winced. "They came to support me."

"I see." He replied. Reaching out, he gently grasped her arm. "I hate to rush you, but--"

"Of course." She gathered her things. "I'll see you this evening."

He smiled at her. "I look forward to it."

[illyrian-lover-flower]

The chosen forest keeper 8

                            May my soul never be found

Word count: ~2.3 (sorry this is a short one)

A golden flicker, casting gleaming shadows through the thick metal bars, was all he saw as he lay motionless there. Clicking steps, as if the sharp tip of a perfectly sharpened sword ruined the cold cobbled stone on which he lay, echoed through the golden darkness.  

Too bright!

Was all he could think, as his heavy eyelids tried to get rid of the burden of tiredness, like a fearful insect slowly tangling further in the spiders' net, his heavy wings tried to rise ever the slowest as these sharp claws settled in front of his sight – mere inches away from his bleeding nose and the cold metal bars, which kept his torn body away from crawling out of this cell. After all, walking was not possible with an off bitten foot, that left him only his left upper thigh for walking, as his right was fully fine. Scratches and cuts might have adorned the dark skin of his, as those red bleeding marks decored him now like the black ink on his muscled torso, but he could have walked with the right one. Though he seemed to know, that now, even crawling would have not been an option as he knew his torn wings, the cuts and scratches, and his off bitten foot, made him lose too much blood.

Too much, as that not even his Illyrian heritage was able to replace the red liquid that drenched the muddy straw that shared a cell with him. His flaring nose was not able to tell him if it was him or the straw beside him that was that smelly, as he might know –that there were maybe hundreds before him, that lay weak on the very same spot and waited for their final peaceful moment.  

But his last moment was not peaceful – like those of many Illyrians – as cold claws slowly traced his skin; almost lovingly, did they caress each of his limps once he was rested on his bleeding back. Claws cold as night, meeting his crawling flesh that seemed to want to fight, as his mind screamed at him to not lay still, to fight before he could rest, but before he could even lift one weak arm up to the giant creature and strike a lose hit, did those steely claws reach his abandon.  

Sharp teeth, as white as a bone, glowering down on him. Pain flickered for a short moment through him, as blood splattered and sploshed around him, though it might have been this red fountain –that bubbled out of his stomach and around him – that made him realize the pain, which caused this gleaming claw as it twisted slowly into his guts.  

Not even a yelp of pain was able to leave his mouth, as the last he ever saw were those bone white teeth, that shone like white mirrors back down on him and honed him a last time with light, as it knew darkness was soon to claim his prey.  

And it did, his pain not even feelable to him, as the hissing sound of a serpent's laughter was the last lullaby he ever heard.

*

*

*

Azriel only gasped as his sweat covered body awoke from the hurting veil of sleep. Shadows swept ever the softest all over his naked torso as all he could hear was this hissed laughter, that vibrated cold as the cell he had once lain in, through his shaking bones. And though the spymaster could feel the dread churning in his guts, like the heavy storm outside his window, did he not move as the bitter taste of vomit seemed to slowly claw it’s way searingly up his gullet, but he merely swallowed it down.  

The red flesh of his hands, that looked like as if they were nagged at by a cruel dog, fisted the slovenly sheets beneath his giant body shakingly, as he tried to gain reign over his shivering body back. It was hard, hard to have such a dream where he saw one dying in even the largest of cells, when he himself knew of the shared space with rats and shadows, that was his ever-hunting nightmare. Though there was something Azriel envied the male- he saw in his nightmare- for, he had light. Had seen it as he took his last breath, while the creature, darker as night and shadows together feasted on the Illyrians flesh. Savouring the feeling of metallic blood on this long tongue as the fallen Illyrian devoured the last golden caress of the light, in front of his cell, on his in red covered skin.

That was something Azriel envied the male for – light. Something he never seemed to be allowed to have, as he was told he did not deserve it so many years ago – back in the dungeon of his father- and now seemed to chase it off, as he could not shake the feeling that it was partly his fault for the sweet sun rays death, that vibrated so happily through the house.  

Maybe if he would have talked to her again, he could have made his point clear, could have had a friendship – a companionship - with her again, as he would try to bathe in each glowing moment, she would let her light ensue his reading form.

What would he give for this? To have her by his side again?  

Azriel only shook his head, as the laugh in his round ears, finally moved for the frantic whispers of his shadows –that informed him of each shed tear in the house of his brother – as he listened to the weeping sounds of a hurt little sister, that, for the first time, prayed aloud to the Cauldron on her own. But the spymaster could not take it to listen to her mourning voice, as even the Queen and the fox had decided to stay –just for tonight- together with all of them, and shed tear for tear for their lost friend.  

Occasionally did he hear the burning Queen curse at the seer, that could not answer her again and tell her to please stop –with reddened ears- as she was embarrassed by the so colourful cursing of her friend. Azriel tried to laugh at the innocent picture in his head, as he slowly got up from his bed and wadded through the churning realm of darkness, that crept into every corner of his darkened room, and sploshed some calming water into his ashen face, as he braced himself over the sink.  

No enemy he ever encountered would believe the sight of him, torn and broken –a tear slipping past his restrain even – bracing himself by the side of the sink in his bathroom. These dark strands of hair seemingly sinking on top of his head, as every fibber in his being seemed to have lost their strain and gave into the pain, which the seers death brought. He was a shadow; he was not meant to feel anything, as only darkness would ever lead him.  

Yet, for this short expanse of time, did he let her guide him through a mellow world of gold, that seemed to embrace his shadows just as much as the calming sunlight and now –now was his sweet guidance gone and lost herself, as she would wade through the realm of death, like a fawn through a forest.  

He sunk at the heavy thought, those soft eyes of hers –always buzzing with life- calm and frozen as her soothing light was replaced by dark tendrils of death. The thought shook him, and another wave of nausea seemed to want to crash through him, as he swallowed heavily once again, shaking like a small little leave outside his window, that clung to the tree branch, like he to his sanity. Though this sanity seemed long gone –he realized- as a lightning dithered on the dark sky. Cold light embracing his sulking form for the slightest of moments as he tried to get rid of this dread, get rid of the lump in his throat –whenever he thought of the seers' cold eyes.  

But he could not win the try of taking his train of thoughts somewhere else – somewhere far from her wonderful garden, somewhere far from her caring form – and yet could he not do this. Not even when the thoughts of her opposite –his darkened cell- came to his mind. It only made him feel more nauseous, as a heavy sighed tore, like a cold whisper of death, from his lungs, as if this cold breath –which fogged against the crystal-clear mirror- announced him the death of a part inside of him, he dreaded even existed.  

Azriel only shook his head – those sweaty strands of hair atop his heavy head a birds nest through which his shadows meandered like an onyx river- as another flash lightened the room, quivering through the silent air as the white light chased off his shadows for only the slightest of moments. A moment, in which he saw himself, not as the shadow monster he feared, but as the sweet shadowy Illyrian she believed to have seen inside of him. It was only a fracture of a second –not even a piece of the time Elain thought him as sweet and innocent – but he saw himself. Mourning and ashen, burdened and bleeding the tears of his heart, as the salty river still ran down his face. A sliver of silver, that traced every contour of his being, like the soft fingers of the seer had once done, as those soft fingertips of hers whispered complement for complement at his prickling skin and now all he would have left of her, was this, a tear as shining and pure as her creamy skin.  

The shadowsinger swallowed hard, as he saw this imprint of himself –of who she thought of him to be- and he liked it. Liked the idea of finally being the one she had always told him to be, loved it even if it meant he could at least try to claim one of her future sights as true –these soft words of his caring being only ever leaving her smiling lips, whenever her eyes had fogged to a steeled grey as light as a cloud in a soft summers storm. He loved this far away gaze of hers, loved that each time she went so far from the reality in Velaris, that she showed her family her true potential. Amren even seeing something more in her, as her cold silver eyes saw something behind the golden masquerade, that woke her interest – which normally slumbered like a grizzly bear through winter.  

But as the next lighting struck, shaking through the air, he saw something that was never there by his side.  

A small crown of thorns –large enough that it circled around his heart – stretched above his beating muscle, as he took in each little peak of a sharp thorn, that rested on his chest. The small wreath looked like as if it chained him, as if it told him there would always be an ever-lasting circle that would guide him through life, but what was written inside this heavy burden on his chest?

What was it, that the mother wove inside his fate, as she branded him so cluelessly?

But he knew that there was something about the soft crown, that glistened among his swirls of black ink and tendrils of shadows, as those said shadows seemed to flee from it, seemed to hate the soft hue of strength that protected his hurting heart, as they swirled around it like rivalling dogs, though the black bond did not move an inch.   

____________________________________________________

A twisted laugh echoed loud and vibrating through the grand hall, which lay to her feet, as her blood red lips stretched into a devil's smirk, that already sought out the nightmares of so many Skirin- males. Those sharp fangs of hers, glowering dangerously in her so sweet looking mouth, as she chased off those males, which dared to go beyond what she wanted – whenever she was to meet one of those crippled bastards in the lurking depths of the forest.  

What a shame though, that these dumb little idiots of Illyrians did not know what a blood-filled storm was coming for them as this wicked Illyrian, lounging ever so carefree on her throne of nightmares, slowly gathered the thick clouds of thunder around her - hovering by her slender form like a lost puppy that chased every hope of a home. Oh, and how she would give these bloody clouds of rage a home, as she would harbour them as long as she could – feeding those billowing steams of anger, her rage and envy each passing day, like she would feed a dog.  

Red wrath slowly rising in the veins of this sacred hall of obsidian, which the red female fully consumed with her hollowing laughter, as soon as she remembered the light innocence, she would paint bloody red with fault and anger.  

Oh, and what a delight it will bring her, she thought smilingly as she took another sip from her dearest red wine. To slowly paint the innocence away from the sweetest female, that just fell down in front of her.  

Maybe if the sweet Goldenrod, like Fersia had called her, would have stood as proud and tall as her friend, would she maybe have questioned the tribe's choice and might have taken ever the slightest longer to fulfil her plan, but this –this female- was the golden key, that would open the doors to a freer world.

No matter the cost, was the Mothers thought as she toasted with the round glass of crystal to the yet unclear future, that lay waiting in the wafting glimmers of flames, before her and took a heavy sip from it, painting her lips in an even darker red like before as she fully knew in a few it might not just be her lips that would be tainted red.

_______________ previous chapter | next chapter______________________

I am so sorry that this is just a short chapter, but I hope you still enjoyed it😊Like I had already said in a note, I’ll be laying updates now mostly on Sunday, but maybe I’ll be able to still upload a bit in the week -we’ll see. 

Anyhow, hope you have a delightful day/evening and had fun with the chap😊(Also, if one of you has theories - I’d be so delighted to hear about them, so drop a comment or just message me😉)

Taglist (please tell me if you want to be added or removed):

@tanaquilpriscilla​

@generousfanfan​

@hail-doodles​

@courtofjurdan​

@classywastelandpirate​

@heirofthrnightcourt004​

@autophobiaxx​

[inevitableenquere]

Mademoiselle Mari

Insp. by a comment on the Maribat Discord:

Buckle up, biches.

We’re gonna pull deep into DC canon for the French codename for female superheroes, Mademoiselle Marie, in use since the 18th century through the World Wars and probably beyond. Alfred Pennyworth worked closely with “Mademoiselle Marie” in the past.

In this universe, its expanded into a French government-sponsored training program, training little girls in espionage and assassinry since the Cold War. These program heads aren’t monsters; the girls still live with their families, still go to civilian school, they just occasionally “take trips to see distant relatives”.

Their parents are aware that their daughters are doing government work, and there’s a benefit package unlike any other available within the country. Salary is set aside in trust for “Marie” until she hits adulthood (precaution in case of shitty parents) and a stipend besides for her and her parents to use as they see fit. These girls get a full-ride “scholarship” to any accredited global university of their choice. Only the best of the best risk their lives for wet-work necessary for the good of France. These girls become unsung heroes of France, and they receive glowing recommendations when they decide to move on from the program.

Still, it’s not something the Dupein-Cheng family had thought of for their daughter, it’s not a well-known program after all. The handlers don’t have an eye on her until new mayor of Paris, freshly divorced, André Bourgeois brings the girl “bullying his little princess” to their attention. And that is how six-year-old Marinette Dupein-Cheng is brought into the program.

Now, Marinette, tiny little bi-racial girl, is competitive, and this program is something she enjoys, learning from adults and “older sisters” on how to tumble, dance, act, create, and make new friends– both in person with the other girls, and through letters to former agents and outside contacts. They craft a network based on previously established agency contacts and expand upon them as they move out in the world.

Marinette quickly becomes a star student, moving on to weapons training, and eventually becomes one of the first to graduate in her batch and she travels the world as pre-teen superspy “Mademoiselle Marie”. (Whose last name changes by assignment.)

This is how she meets Damian Al Ghul, prince of the League of Assassins for the first time, though he’s introduced to her as “independent contractor” Caracal. He clocks her as trained, and a threat right away, and takes his standard precautionary measure. He attempts to murder her.

Attempts, because Mari is just as trained as he is, if not as lethally inclined. He quickly finds himself pinned under her knee, knife to his throat. (Later, he insists that he was having an off day, helplessly grateful that he hadn’t succeeded.) But in the moment they agree to a truce and go their own way, Marie Simon to her “parents”, Caracal to the shadows from whence he came.

Naturally, the next time they meet they are “distant cousins” on a collaborative wetworks mission in Thessaly, against an uppity German drug lord, and his mad-scientist wife. The mission goes a bit sideways, took more luck than either will admit to pull it off, and they emerge from the aftermath, a grudging respect on both sides. Even if she’s too soft and he’s an arrogant andouille.

Through happenstance and circumstances, they run into each other enough, work together enough, to become friends. Friends, in this case, meaning “person I won't stab on sight and/or who owes me a favor”. A rarity for Damian.

Marinette thinks otherwise; with friendships among those in her organization, and tentative friendships with some of the boys in école, she considers Caracal an Ally. A lonely sad boy, sure, but more a feral street cat then a friend. It takes more than a few meetings for Marinette to consider him a Ride-or-Die Friend.

Through the years, these two baby assassins grow into a friendship that withstands facing each other as enemies to reunite with no hard feelings at the next meeting between them. After all it’s Just Business, and they both know that well.

And then Hawkmoth.

Marinette can’t be Ladybug, “defender of Paris” when “Mademoiselle Marie” travels across the globe networking for her government and taking down European threats. Marinette reluctantly resigns from her position, and she takes up a red-spotted mantle.

Now the Mlle. Marie Organization aren’t idiots. Marinette Dupein-Cheng retires with accolades, offered a permanent place whenever she finishes her “hiatus”. And if the Parisian Police are instructed from on high to look the other way for Ladybug? Well, it’s best to leave superhero business to superheroes.

People in the organization are Carefully Not Thinking About It.

Completely coincidentally, therapy and healthy coping mechanisms are now mandatory for all operatives working within Paris and the surrounding areas.

That said, she still has to tell her assassin that she’s retiring.

Damian does not take it well.

Not like murder not well.

Like communication blackout and regime change in Peru not well.

Damian gives her the silent treatment. After all, she’s Out. (She abandoned him.)

Little does he know, his mother is working to get him out as well.

Marinette, meanwhile is Not Happy that Mothman Barbie decided to take out his issues on her home turf. The Mlle. Marie project is supposed to be foreign support, and last line of defense. So I mean it's in her wheelhouse. She just enjoyed her job as a globetrotting pre-teen superspy.

She doesn’t want to be chained down to the homefront, not when there's so much inspiration out there! Putting all that on hold for Mothman Barbie in Paris, eating into her free time, sleep, and drastically cutting into her social life? Bitch.

Civilian life makes her itch now, stuck in one place with confusing, mandatory, rules. Fictional barriers and preteen posturing, and only one hidden knife? Being Marinette is Suffering™. New friend Alya and pretty-boy Adrien can only relieve it so much.

Yes she has a bit of a crush. He's pretty and a model. Shut up.

Tikki is pleased she's got another loyal warrior, a second coming of Jeanne d'Arc, though she wishes Marinette was kinder. That's something she learns while dealing with Mothman Barbie. Not just how to act kind, to prevent akumas. But how to genuinely be kind. How to unlock the empathy she'd learned to tune out years ago, and how to act altruistically.

During her collège years Marinette juggles the life of a teen superhero, making friends with her class sincerely for the first time in years, something she didn’t get the chance to do with her frequent trips. Beyond Nino and Kim that is.

When Lila comes she deems her as annoying, but not worth her time. Until she’s the one turning her friends into akumas, with broken promises and lies that damage reputations. Marinette has a set future, as long as she keeps to the laws of this land and doesn’t slaughter a bitch. Lila can’t do anything to her. But if she hurts any of her friends, Lila is getting a horse head in her bed, American cliché or not.

Thankfully her crush on Adrien dies a silent death during this time. She can’t see herself with someone who won’t stand up for himself, nor with someone who enables a pathological liar that is one move away from harming the rest of her friends. She’s unspeakably grateful for that when Mothman Barbie is revealed to be his absentee father and Mayura to be the closest thing he has to a living mother. She’s able to focus her attention on his mental state and not how stupidly pretty he is.

Adrien is cemented as her best friend and platonic life partner in a catsuit. Adrien, once he got over his crush on the "idol" Ladybug, is happy to treat her the same. He’s just glad that his Lady won’t leave him for what his family had done.

Despite Mari’s wishes, Ladybug can’t retire just yet. People come out of the woodwork to fill in the vacuum left behind from the fashion-blind terrorist that held Paris in fear for three years. Ladybug is a celebrity, and Paris would be left uneasy if the city’s heroes left them undefended. She trains to be a guardian with Master Fu, to find more permanent Miraculous holders to take up the defense of Paris, and later the world. She finally has the free time to devote to her fashion commissions and to pick up the occasional job with her old organization.

It’s mid-way through lycée that Jagged invites her as his plus one to a charity gala in the United States. As his designer, and as an inconspicuous bodyguard that has combat training (far more than he knows), Marinette is the best choice when Penny is on leave. It gives his favorite niece the chance to network with American big shots, and get her brand noticed by more than just a few fashion moguls in Paris.

Which leads us to today. Marinette Dupein-Cheng– agent on leave, teenage superhero, aspiring designer, and temporary bodyguard of her surrogate uncle– spots a very familiar profile across the room.

Her assassin, dressed to kill, possibly literally. And she resigns herself to once more being on the opposite side of the boy who cut her out of his life, and any attempts to get in touch with him.

She’s dressed in a MDC original (with more hidden knives on her person than people would think), as she goes through the familiar song-and-dance and slips into the mindset of Mademoiselle Marie.

Stolen glances across the room. How have they been? Will they talk to me again even if I left/left her in silence?

Both are on edge. They are professionals and an unexpected meeting won't prevent them from keeping their loved ones charges safe.

It's like they never left the business, the two of them. They don't know each other. I've never seen them before. They can't have been the murderer because I saw them head to the bathroom. Just don't. touch. what's. Mine.

They're Friends after all.

Thankfully nothing happens at the party.

Damian Wayne saw her. How could he have ignored her, magnetic as she ever was. His eyes periodically drawn to her, partly assessment, partly admiration. When nothing happens at the gala, he figures that she’s changed as much as he has. And Damian has changed. He's softer and he knows it. He's been Out almost as long as she has, and in trying to hold to his father’s standards, he doesn’t think he could slip into the mindset of the ruthless prince of assassins so easily any more.

The silence and loss of his first friend on the other hand, was a wound that lingered even as he learned of civilian friendships and built connections with other superheroes around his age. This was a chance to introduce himself to his oldest friend. Without business between them this time.

It's Damian that does the signal.

Mari trips and giggles at the end of the night over to her assassin. It's easy after years of "Clumsy Marinette can't possibly be Ladybug!" She plays up the petite harmless French girl.

"Mon Caracal!" She calls from 3 feet away, stumbling into his arms.

She hugs him, compartmentalizing the muscled form that holds her safely, knowing he can kill her if she plays this wrong.Not without a fight though.

She hugs him more surely, kissing both his cheeks the way neither of them would be allowed outside of acting. "It's been far too long!"

She pulls away to see him gazing down at her, and wow someone has given him acting lessons because he smiles soft, fond, and far more real than he ever had Before.

"Marie."

She boops him on the nose. "Marinette." She teases coyly. She can't tell him her last name. For the safety of her parents, but also to keep cover as close friends.

"Marinette." He nods, crooked smile on his face, and away from prying eyes there's the signal that he'll keep his mouth shut about her name.

Speaking of prying eyes... "Marinette!" Uncle Jagged calls, making his way over to the pair of them. Her assassin is surprised, though few would be able to tell, at the world-famous rockstar approaching them.

"Uncle Jagged!" She answers, facing him but keeping a hand on the muscled arm of her friend to keep him from attacking, just in case.

She plays up the accent. Just a rockstar with his very French™ niece and her boy toy, nothing to see here!

"Jagged," she says again looking up at her uncle, "this is my good friend–"

"Damian" her assassin, starstruck or not, can follow his cue.

Between them is the subtle flash of information-true-hidden as she speaks over it to distract Jagged. "–Damian, my caracal."

Jagged bristles a little, baring his teeth in what those who don't know him would call a toothy grin, rather than a threat.

"And is Damian rock-and-roll enough for my favorite designer, M?"

"He's very kind," she confides with a Marinette-sweet smile. In his own way. she finishes the thought ruefully. A small part of her brain is cackling hysterically.

Jagged relaxes, and drags the both of them forward, holding a polaroid out to snap a picture of the three of them. ("Very Rock-and-Roll!" Jagged had said three months earlier.) He shakes the picture to development, and autographs it with a flourish, before stuffing it into Damian's hands.

"Well any friend of Marinette's is a friend of mine! And M? Car leaves in 10." He smiles, patting them both on the shoulder before sauntering off.

"I." Damian tries. He sighs.

"Jagged Stone? Jagged? Really Marie?" Damian asks, slipping once more into the familiar nickname. Marinette decided to let it slide, Jagged had that effect on a lot of people.

Marinette shrugs helplessly, before fishing a pen and spare notepad for her to jot down her contact information. It had only been a night but that familiar rush and heady friendship was something that Mari didn't want to lose if she could help it. She placed the paper with the photograph, putting the lethal pen back in her clutch, and cupping his face in both hands.

"Keep in touch this time? Please mon caracal?" If her begging was a little more heartfelt, well she’d learned a few things too. She kissed his cheek one final time and stepped away.

A hand caught her wrist.

"It hasn't been the same without you, Marinette." Damian said, hand slipping into hers, thumb gently brushing the back of it. He lifted her hand and kissed the air above her knuckles, before stepping away and towards the exit.

I must not swoon. I must not swoon. I must not swoon. Marinette chanted internally as she left to find Jagged, already looking forward to turning a Friendship into something more honest. More real.

-Meanwhile, In The Lobby-

"What was that, baby bird?" Dick asked his youngest brother.

"An old friend." Damian answered tersely, pointedly ignoring the curious stare from his Father and the more obnoxious kissy noises from Todd.

"Hell of an old friend." Tim commented, sounding almost put out, probably because of the unexpected personal introduction to Jagged Stone and autograph Damien had received. "You let her get close."

Damian raised an eyebrow at Tim.

Tim rolled his eyes, "PDA close!" he expounded like that explained anything.

Dick must have sensed his confusion, " You attempted to judo-flip Kor'i when you first met her. And you let this tiny girl hug you and kiss your cheeks."

Damian scowled, "I'm not that bad!"

"You bit me last week when I went to ruffle your hair!" Jason said, tugging his suit sleeve back to reveal light scarring.

"And?" Damian said, very done with the conversation already.

"We just wanted to know how long you've been pining for her, baby bird." Dick teased.

Damian felt a betraying heat creep up the back of his neck, to his ears and cheeks. "It's not like that!" He hissed.

"I-" he paused, wondering how he could explain the beautiful, cunning girl who knew of his past, was honestly the best part of it, and how she had watched his back, kept him safe and sane, had killed people on his tail even, without making them regard her as a threat.

His grandfather would have made her an example. Vivisected, drawn and quartered for daring to get close to his perfect weapon.

"I've known her for years. We're Friends, and that means I'll allow her more than I would you, Todd."

He stalked forward, as his father called behind him, "You should introduce us when you feel comfortable, Damian."

He stopped, listening but not daring to turn around.

"After all," Damian could hear the grin in his father's voice, "It'll be nice to meet my future daughter-in-law!"

Screw the Joker, Batman ends right here, right now.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter 2 Summary

Okay I got this I wrote the damn thing I can tell you what’s important, right? But I hope you won’t forget the things that were important to you the first time you read it - I had kind of hoped for that more personal touch, but I don’t mean to ask too much. That being said, I am just writing this as a brief overview - if you need to know things about the boys to help them or hurt them, I leave that up to you. I will not comment on their emotional reactions, weaknesses, or the ramifications to come if at all possible.

Ch. 2 Summary

Having left Norway, Anti has moved his family of puppets to a much warmer climate, somewhere the police have yet to be alerted to their presence like they were by the theft of the Haldol. The boys are living in an abandoned medical clinic at the top of an impoverished mountain. Doktor is allowed to care for people who come to him, but he is not allowed to see his twin. Trick had a suicide attempt following his possession in Norway on the night Marvin died and now Anti has cloistered him in Anti’s own room, replacing Dapper with Trick, though he plans to have Dapper returned to him once Trick is stable enough to go back to the others. Doktor has been given Dapper to care for instead in the time being.

Blue struggles with his magical powers near the beginning of the chapter, his hands shaking and turning blue with magic when his emotions rise. He is not allowed to use his powers because Anti has not learned to cloak his signals and magical presence the way he has learned to cloak Dapper’s and his own. Red, against Anti’s orders, often helps Blue to hide the fact that he is struggling to control it instead of reporting the dysfunction to Anti.

Dapper shows strong resistance to Anti at the beginning of the chapter, and in fact slaps him when Anti tries to force him back into submission. Anti becomes violent with Dapper, and then, when Doktor convinces him that it was Dok’s fault for allowing Dapper to become psychotic again, with Doktor. Doktor is hanged by the throat for the night in punishment, while Dapper is dragged back to Anti’s room to be put back into his place. Because Anti believes Dapper has become psychotic again, he decides to change his medication.Trick is glad to have a companion other than Anti for a little while. In the morning, Blue and Red take Doktor down from his chain and care for him. Later, Anti forces Dapper back into a more obedient headspace by forcing him to wear a collar and dapper clothes and to play with his puppets like he used to a long time ago. Dapper fights hard, but Anti uses so much power on him that, over the next few days, Anti is extremely weak and confined to his bed.

On Hanukkah, Anti gives Doktor candles to celebrate and promises him that if he’s good, he can see Trickshot again for Christmas. He gives Red money to take Dok and Blue into the city and buy Christmas and Hanukkah presents.

On the way home from buying the presents, Red realizes that they are being stalked by a young man and decides to draw him away from his younger brothers, telling them to return home. When the young man leaves the bus, Red follows. In the confrontation that follows, the young man is shown to be a magician who can create ice and disappear at will. Red manages to beat him, but then reinforcements come - a young woman called Genesis and an older woman with long dark hair called Emmanuela. Along with Hermann, they are able to pin Red down and plan to take him away. They believe Red to be a demon at first, and, once they are corrected, decide he must be taken away from the influence of the demon who has put the “darkness” in him.

Dapper arrives in time to save Red, having lived through the scenario once and deciding to take action to prevent Red from being kidnapped. Dapper stabs Hermann, but all three magicians get away. Genesis is able to teleport and escapes with her friends.

Back home, the cameras lose track of Trick, causing concern that something has happened to him. Dok rushes back to Anti’s room and finds his twin in the bathroom with a spilled bottle of medicine. Trick has not, however, tried to overdose again, deciding at the last moment that he couldn’t go through with it. Dok cries and because Anti is too weak to protest, they are allowed to reunite on Christmas Eve as Red and Dapper return home. Dapper is acting strangely - more strangely than usual - and twitching constantly.

Christmas is meant to be a nice day, but early in the morning Red and Dok discover that Anti has put Dapper on a dangerously high dose of a new anti-psychotic medication, cause side effects such as the twitching and potentially worse. Red promises Dok he will not allow Dapper to take the medicine again at this dose. They exchange several presents, including a new cat for Trick, who is named Pot Noodle. Anti hand-picks nice presents for every one of them. Dapper, like Anti, spends much of the day ill from the medication, while Red can’t seem to stop thinking about yesterday’s events.

The next morning, Red refuses to allow Anti to give Dapper his medicine and Anti decides that he has stepped out of line for the last time. However, he allows Doktor to monitor Dapper’s medication from then on out.

Red is sent to murder a man and Anti allows him to spend the night in prison, breaking down and fixated on the blood on his hands, before he comes to save Red. When we see Red next, he is more violent with his brothers than he has ever been, slapping and grabbing at his siblings to keep them under Anti’s control. He and Blue aren’t getting along and he refuses to talk to the cameras, exhausted by constant nightmares.

Genesis has been kidnapped and Dapper and Anti torture her together, destabilizing an already confused Dapper, whose medication is still not working right after the sudden, unsafe changes.

Blue’s hands are red with the pain of keeping his magic back and he shakes constantly. He can’t watch his brothers being slapped around anymore and when Genesis says he can summon help by letting his power explode, he climbs to the top of the mountain and unleashes the full force of all he’s kept back. Before this happens, however, he convinces Red to come and help him, causing the two to reunite. The outburst of his magic, however, is violent and out of control, causing plant life to explode down one side of the mountain and fire down the other. Anti must save Red from thorns crushing him and possesses Blue’s body in order to get the burned, injured thing back down to the other boys. Dapper is having a psychotic episode and is unable to reverse this major act of rebellion no matter how much Anti screams at him. Anti decides they must flee before Genesis’ friends come. He has not yet perfected the spell he came to this country to perform, but he no longer cares if he hurts Blue or not with it.

Because of their disobedience, Anti causes Red and Dapper, who had previously been trying to care for each other, to “spar” like they used to on the way to the equator. He forces the fight to become violent and not only do they beat each other badly, but Dapper is sent into his worst psychotic episode yet, babbling and fighting and reporting seeing ghosts and birds and worse. Anti handcuffs Red and Dapper together.

When they reach the equator - one of only a few places in the world Anti is able to cast the spell he wants to cast, using the book stolen from the body of the man he had Red kill - Anti sends Red to hide with Dapper and keep him safe, because the magicians are coming very quickly and he needs his time traveler safe first and foremost. He sends Trick and Dok to guard him with their sniper in the forest and drags Blue into the Rio Puturnayo to curse him.

The spell Anti uses strips Blue of his magic and gives it to Anti instead. Blue nearly dies and Anti goes into a seizure on the bank of the river, but soon his weakness is replaced with power, and he sees that the magicians have come. Wildly out of control with both dark and pure magic filling up his chest, he begins a vicious fight with the magicians. Blue’s fire magic sets the Amazon ablaze as Anti tears through his enemies. Because of the flames and the smoke, Red and Dapper are forced to put their cameras away and flee into the river. Meanwhile, Genesis, the teleporting magician, grabs Dok before anyone can stop her and disappears with him. Trick, shocked, must be saved by Anti before he can be stolen away too. Meanwhile, the young man, Hermann, sneaks down to the river and finds Blue’s dying body on the shore. Still weak from his stab wound, all he can do is perform a small healing spell and hold Blue in the river to protect him from the flames.

Anti kills and attacks several magicians, but he is growing weak from his injuries and frantic from the loss of his puppets. As the fire grows worse, the magicians retreat to focus on putting it out and Anti staggers back to the river. Finding Hermann protecting both Blue and Trickshot, he takes Blue from the magician and he, Trick, and Blue flee into the forest.

That is where the chapter leaves us.

[barefoot-joker]

Yandere!Jeremiah Valeska X Reader One Shot Pt 7 (Pt 1)

Hey, guys! Welcome back to Part 1 of the finale of my Yandere!Jeremiah story! Things are going down so be prepared! :) As always feedback is appreciated so comment below any thoughts or ideas. I will see you in the next installment of Yandere!Jeremiah!

 https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/182328341418/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-one-shot

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/182409053588/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-oneshot-pt-2

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/182862984808/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-one-shot-pt-3

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/183226748438/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-one-shot-pt-4

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/183462856853/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-one-shot-pt-5

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/183601483818/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-oneshot-pt-6

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/184513626468/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-oneshot-pt-7

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/184712916978/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-oneshot-pt-7

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/185001873563/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-one-shot-pt-7

https://barefoot-joker.tumblr.com/post/186623351048/yanderejeremiah-valeska-x-reader-one-shot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beep.

   Beep.

        Beep.

             Tremble.

My body shook as I quickly sat up in bed, my heart beating fast and sweat decorating my flesh. I had just woken up from another nightmare, the seventh one in a row. I raked my fingers through my hair and gulped before taking in a deep breath and putting my head in my hands. Deciding I wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon I slowly got out of bed, put on my silky robe and made my way down to Jeremiah's study and our shared library. Whenever I couldn't sleep I would go there, the words seemingly bringing me out of my prison for a little bit.

Upon entering the room the only light source was the moon, the only sounds being my bare feet upon the creaky floorboards and the grandfather clock ticking away. Stopping by the leather armchair near the corner I turned on the lamp before walking to Jeremiah's desk and turning on that light. Just as I was about to look for a book a cream envelope on my husband's desk caught my eye. Picking it up I saw my name as the addressee, the information being written in a familiar hand. There was no return address on it but my curiosity got the better of me. Why in the world did Jeremiah have my mail on his desk?

Silently I sat in his black leather chair before opening it and reading.

Y/n, You haven't been replying to any of my letters so I'm going to assume Jeremiah has hidden them from you. If this is your first time reading just know I'm coming and I haven't abandoned you. Alfred, Jim and I have been gathering tools and skills to take your "husband" down. Help is on the way I promise. Expect to be out of there soon and enjoying life, not hating it. Together we'll overcome whatever he's done to you. Anyway I love you and stay strong, dear. Soon you'll be free. Sincerely, Bruce Wayne

My lips parted and I had to cover my mouth before I let out any kind of sound. My eyes scanned the page again and again, rereading every detail to make sure it was correct. I couldn't believe it. Bruce didn't forget me and he was coming. I could feel a shiver of happiness come over me as I realized my chains would soon be off and I'd be able to fly once more. I almost jumped in joy but my mind went to finding those others letters that Bruce mentioned. Quietly I dug through my husband's desk before coming upon a stack of the same opened cream envelope in the same handwriting at the very bottom of the last drawer to the right. No wonder I thought my friend forgot me, the stack was at least ten envelopes. Silently I read through them all, interested in the news Bruce gave me. By the time I finished it was 3:30 in the morning and I could feel my lids grow heavier. Placing the envelopes back where they were I turned off each lamp and then headed back to bed, my sleep filled with dreams for once in a lifetime.

I yawned as I sat up, my back cracking as I stretched. I smiled as I actually had gotten a decent amount of rest. However that moment was ruined when I felt hands rubbing my shoulders. "Good morning, dearest. How did you sleep?"

"Fine. You?"

"Wonderful~"

His lips gave a peck to my cheek and forehead before he nuzzled my neck. I dared not turn my head away in fear of what he would do if I would, so I remained still. "I'm sorry I'm leaving you but important business has come up recently. I promise I'll make it up to you though."

“There’s no need-”

“Yes there is.”

He trailed his lips up to my ear and nipped the shell before he gave a low laugh. Uncomfortable, I slowly got out of bed but had to sit back down as a wave of exhaustion hit me head on. Jeremiah was used to these things as lately it’s been occurring more, the doctor telling him just to make me rest and relax (that is before he murdered the poor soul for touching me). Getting up he went into the closet and pulled out one of his three piece suits and a simple green dress with a floral pattern on it for me. “Do you need help getting dressed, dear?”

“N-no. I think I can manage.”

“Alright. Holler if you need me.”

I nodded and he headed into the bathroom, leaving the door open a smidge in case he needed to come out and aid me. Grunting I stood back up and slid off my nightgown, took a minute to breathe and then pulled on the roomy green daywear. Silently I walked to the door but stopped to look at myself in the full length mirror. My eyes immediately went to my bulging stomach, my branded hand coming up to rub it. Inside I was conflicted. True, I hated the fact that my enemy was the one who gave me this child but on the other end my motherly instincts loved that I was going to be giving the gift of life. I sighed and slowly made my way downstairs to the kitchen, Ecco already in there making breakfast. “Good morning, puddin! How’re you feeling?”

“Exhausted and sore.”

“Then sit, sweetie! We don’t need you or the baby hurting.”

I did as she commanded and silently watched her fry some sausages, my thoughts going to the letters I found in my husband’s desk. I needed to send Bruce some kind of sign that I did in fact receive his message, the only problem being Jeremiah and Ecco intercepting it. “Here you go. Extra strength on a plate!”

I blinked and looked down, the eggs and sausages made to look like a happy face. “Something wrong, puddin?”

Yes. This whole situation is wrong!

“I-I’m fine.”

I picked up my fork and dug in, Jeremiah coming in as soon as I was done. “No breakfast for me today, Ecco. I’m in a rush. You’ll run those documents and make sure the employees are up to date?”

“Yes, boss.”

He hummed and gave my cheek a peck. “I’ll call later to see how you’re doing, darling. Rest if you need to. I love you.”

I didn’t respond.

Even though I had been forced to do things in the name of “love” with Jeremiah I could never allow those words to be spilt out for him. No, they were only reserved for people who truly deserved them. The greenette sighed before he left, the front door slamming shut behind him. “I think I’ll go take a walk.”

“Alright, hon. If you need anything-”

“I know.”

Slowly I got up from my perch and made my way to the back of the house, I passing a few guards on the way. It always made me sick to my stomach the way they bowed to me as if I was some sort of goddess, their expressions too happy for me. I knew my husband had ordered them to be this way as he considered us deities that needed to be worshiped. I just continued my way to the back door and out into the small garden of flowers and food. To most this would have been an escape from reality as it was outside and nature surrounded the area but it was still part of my prison. Walls blocked the rest of the city from us, the sounds of honking cars and daily conversation the only things I could hear. Silently I walked along the wall, humming a bit to myself when a whisper brought me out. Confused I looked around but saw no one, I blaming it on my imagination. Just as I took another step I heard it again except this time it uttered my name. That voice. No...it couldn’t be!

“Bruce? Is that you?”

“Yes. It’s me, Y/n!”

My heart danced with excitement as I placed my palms against the wall, wishing it were transparent so I could see my dark haired friend. “Oh my god, I thought I’d never hear from you again!”

“Haven’t you been getting my letters?”

“No. Jeremiah has been intercepting them. I only found out last night as one was on his desk.”

“I thought so. Y/n, you sound...different. Is everything okay?”

I didn’t reply immediately. How in the world was I supposed to tell my loved one what has happened?

“A lot has been going on Bruce, but I don’t have time to explain.”

“Neither do I. I just came to reassure you I’m still alive and am going to get you out. Soon we’ll be together again.”

“Bruce.”

“Yes?”

“Whatever Jeremiah does to me...promise you won’t leave.”

“I would never! None of this is your fault, dearest. I know that.”

“Y/N!”

“Look Bruce, I have to go. Stay here okay?”

“Okay.”

I heard the sound of him giving an air kiss and the crunching of cold grass beneath his feet. Though our encounter was small I was filled with new found hope because of my friend. “Y/N! Where are you?”

“Coming!”

Quickly I looked back at the stone wall and smiled before waddling up to the back door where Ecco stood. “There you are! I ‘ve been calling you for quite a while.”

“Sorry, is there something you needed?”

“I need to go out and do some things for the boss man so you’ll be here alone with some guards. The doors will be locked and so are all the windows so you should be safe. I’ll have a cell phone on me so call the number next to the phone if you need anything, alright.”

“When do you think you’ll be back?”

“This shouldn’t take more than an hour but I’ll call to tell you if I’ll be later.”

“Alright.”

“Stay safe.”

She gave the top of my head a kiss before heading out and locking the door behind her, I running back to the wall in need of talking to my friend. “Bruce? Are you still there?”

“I’m here, Y/n.”

I sighed in relief. “Ecco’s gone now and the guards are off upstairs by now. Can you come around front? I’ll let you in.”

I heard the sound of his footsteps receding away so I quickly rushed to the front and unlocked the door, Bruce standing there with a smile on his face. “Y/n!”

He grabbed me in a tight embrace and I quickly reached up did the same, tears coming. Standing on my toes I gave him a great big kiss and laughed as he peppered my face with his version of light kisses. “Come on, let’s get you sitting down.”

I gently grabbed his hand and led him into the living room, both of us snuggling on the couch. Bruce leaned in to give me another kiss but I felt his hand halt on my stomach, sadness written in his eyes as he slowly peeled away and looked down. “Y/n, did he do this to you?”

I gulped but nodded, too afraid of what he’d do. Bruce sighed and pulled me in close, his voice next to my ear, “I knew I should have come sooner. None of this would have happened if I-”

“Bruce, this isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is! If I had protected you then you wouldn’t be stuck pregnant and married to the most evil villain in all of Gotham!”

The room went dead quiet as I pulled away to look into my love’s eyes. In his dark orbs I could see what I constantly felt: sadness, anger, disappointment and fear. “You’re doing the best you can do, Bruce. I’ve been surviving so far.”

He sighed and caressed my cheek. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“I just think about you and my friends.”

With that I leaned up and gave him a kiss, my pent up passion letting loose. Bruce let his hands rummage through my hair, our hearts connecting as one once again. Our moment seemed to last forever but as we pulled away with half lidded eyes I realized it was only a few minutes. Just as I was about to say something the phone rang in the hallway so I begrudgingly got up and answered it. “Hello?”

“Y/n, it’s me.”

“...Hello, Jeremiah.”

“How are you doing, honey?”

“Fine. Is there something you needed?”

“I just wanted to see how you were and that I’ll be home in just a few minutes.”

“Alright. Goodbye.”

“See you soon, dearest. I love you.”

I slammed the phone down to hang it up. No way was I telling him that phrase when my true love was in the other room. Silently I walked back into the living room to find Bruce standing and looking at our “family” pictures, a grimace on his face. “You’d better get going, love. Jeremiah will be here any minute and I don’t want you getting caught.”

“I understand.”

He turned to me before embracing me close, his scent of peppermint wafting into my nose. “I’ll get you out of here, dearest. Soon.”

I smiled as his lips gave me a quick peck to the cheek before he quickly went out the door. And just as soon as my fantasies left, my hell entered. “Y/n, I’m home!”

I didn’t turn around as I knew he would find me right away. Sure enough I felt his arms wrap around me within a few seconds, his scent of spice overpowering Bruce’s. “I trust things were fine while I was gone.”

“Yes. Ecco left a little bit ago. She said she would return within the hour.”

He hummed in response before twirling me to face him. “Then we’ll have some alone time before she gets back~”

His gloved hands trailed down to my hips but I silently pushed away, not in the mood. I heard him growl in response but override it with a sigh. His dress shoes scuffed the floor as glasses clinked and liquid was poured, him returning to my side with two wine glasses in his hands. He held it forward for me to take so reluctantly I did, a smile coming to those red lips of his. As I looked down at the glass I was surprised to see it was white wine instead of red, his attempt of lightening up the mood small smile worthy. “I told you I was going to make it up to you.”

He took a sip and gestured for me to do the same. “Isn’t it a bit too early for alcohol?”

“Oh come on, Y/n.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Not even one little sip?”

“I said no, Jeremiah.”

“It’ll be fun~”

“I don’t want to.”

“JUST TAKE ONE DAMN SIP, Y/N!”

I closed my eyes and flinched, my experience with his temper not a great one. In an act of comfort his hand touched my shoulder but the texture of the leather from his glove made it seem unholy. “I apologize for yelling, dearest. Work was just stressful for me today.”

I didn’t reply. There was no need for me to. However my husband was not in that mood for he gently turned my head towards him by my chin and gave me a smile. “Dance with me, honey?”

I nodded once and was immediately pulled to his chest, our arms entangled as we began a slow waltz. While we danced my mind went back to the good old days, the times when Jeremiah wasn’t the monster that he was now.

{Flashback}

I nervously tapped my fingers together as I looked around the room. Jeremiah promised he would take me out dancing tonight but he was nowhere to be found. I bit my lip and hugged my shawl closer as I waited, the stares from the other men unnerving. In my mind I thought I should leave the party but just as thought entered it left when a warm hand met my bare shoulder. My eyes caught sight of Jeremiah’s ginger hair and black glasses, the disappointment leaving. “For a second I thought you weren’t coming and that I got dressed up for nothing.”

“And why would I leave a beautiful woman like you alone?”

I smiled as he took my hand and led us to the floor, our hands going to the right places for the waltz music playing. Slowly the ginger started us and my nerves past as I got the hang of it. “You look lovely tonight, you know that.”

I blushed. “You do as well.”

I laughed as he spun me and in the moment everything seemed to fade away, just like the end of Sleeping Beauty. I felt the two of us on clouds, it seeming like a dream.

{End Flashback}

My lip tugged upwards as the happy memory stayed with me, the slow rhythm of us dancing lulling me into sleepiness. I could feel my husband’s chest rumble with light laughter as my grip loosened and my body began to slip. My heart and mind screamed at me to stay awake, to not be left in such a vulnerable position but my body hushed back ‘what was the point’. As the three fought for dominance my eyes closed and for once a fuzzy feeling burned inside my chest.

                       That fuzzy feeling reserved for Jeremiah Valeska.

[lizzykeendsm]

#TheTruthInTheLies #BlacklistRP

Co written by @TomKeenDSM & @LizzyKeenDSM

Tom - ”I never dreamt I’d fall for her or be willing to truly die for her either, but then my life has been full of the unexpected.” -Sitting at his computer grading science project papers he keeps watching her. Lizzy was important not just to Reddington but to /him/ and as each day went by the connection grew stronger. She is the light in a very dark tunnel of lies and deceit. Mulling over different scenarios of how to get her to disappear with him was what was on his mind but how would be do it and keepher trust, when he’d already lied so much to her...-

Lizzy - Woke up by the sound of the neighbours next door. Moving her hand along the mattress to find his place empty. When her eyes spruce open to wonder where Tom would be. Her mind goes wondering if Tom has made it to bed before she fell asleep last night. When she picked up her cellphone to check the time. 05.37 am was being shown on the clock. When Lizzy pulled the bed sheet off her body to get out of bed to go and see if Tim was around the apartment. She exited the bedroom to walking straight into the living room calling out Tom name. Are you here Tom? Checking each room in the apartment with no answer. When she walked back into the kitchen diner. Tom and I were taking things slowly but somehow I gave him a key to my apartment without thinking. Maybe with the long shift, I work. Lizzy Switched on the coffee maker to make some fresh coffee. Her mind was thinking where Tom could be when she noticed on the calendar n the wall that Tom was away on a teaching training course tonight. She slapped herself on the head ”Liz you are idiot forgetting about Tom being away, she was glad she hadn't sent sent out a text to him.

He was in Denver doing a presentation on his latest findings. Maybe it was the stress of the case she has been working on in work when she was just missing Tom. She stood up to walk over to the coffee maker to fill her coffee cup with caffeine that she desperately needed. When she sat her coffee in the breakfast table to get her bag to fill out the file case of ”Raymond Redding” making her way on to the bar tool drinking her coffee reading everything they had on this man. She spends the next hour or studying the man the man Raymond Reddington who has been running from the FBI for the last two decades. This wasn't going to be a case solved overnight when she was due back in the office. In the next half hour.

When she left the file on the breakfast table to jump in the shower quickly to fresh up and do her bathroom business. Coming out the restroom to walk into walking in the closet to put on her black trouser suits with a smart top and sensible shoes. Tieing her hair up in a pong tail. To walk straight back into the kitchen diner. Putting her file back together with her notes, she had made earlier. She held her file sliding back into her bag. Sometimes she wished she could talk to Tom about her work life but she couldn't without breaking protocol. When she picking up her empty coffee cup placing it the sink before leaving Her apartment. When she typed up a text to Tom. ”Good morning, sorry I missed you last night. I hope to see you soon. Have a safe trip home, miss you. Liz.

Tom: -He had indeed graded homework but now he was disappearing into a crowd of people with a target not far away. Her text came in and he smiled, he shouldn't be carrying his regular phone but being separated from her messed with his head to bad so he kept it close, making sure to turn it to mute though. Today he looked nothing like a geeky teacher with glasses, dressed in leather he slipped into the BDSM club following his prey. This should be quick and painless for both of them, bodies moved with lust, and his mindset changed slipping into his role so easily. Standing at the bar he took his overcoat off sure to be in his prey's line of sight. Hubert had a certain type and he'd done all possible to meet that. Hair dyed dark black, blue contact's in he met the man's eyes temporarily then looked away putting on a blush which wasn't easy but years of deep op covers had its perks. Sipping his drink he looked up at the accountant who walked over to him and boldly ran his hand down Tom's chest, leaning in he whispered. "Come with me, I'll make all your dreams come true."

Lizzy - When Reaching the office after stopping by the nearest Starbucks to collect the coffees that everyone likes including her own latte. while carrying a tray of selected coffees for Ressler, Aram, and Cooper. She checked her phone to see if Tom had replied, with a smile on her face just thinking about, before she took a few minutes to switch her mind from him to her job. When she straight into #FBI mood. When he went into the Cooper office to find and catch up with the team to see what she had messed so far in this morning. With the large frame of Cooper, sitting in his desk with his hands across his hands wanting an update on the blacklist and where we were with the Raymond Redmond. Liz passes the coffees around the room as she begins to talk bout Redmond on his adventures of when he was in France. When her cellphone rang she stopped to put her coffee down on Cooper desk to pick up her cellphone with the interruption of a pizza place calling as the caller I.D. She excused herself for a second to take the call.

Tom - -Hubert had been taken out the service entry and put into the awaiting van. Tom had a secure location he’d sat up to do his interrogation and having successfully getting his mark there he cuffed him to the chain link fencing that would be his temporary home.- We can do this the

easy way or the hard way it’s in your hands. I need the back door instructions you added to the Prometheus software program you wrote. -Hubert glared and Tom decided to give him a little taste of what was to come. Flipping the switch on the generator he picked up the batteries cables giving him a little jolt.-

Lizzy - Lizzy had stepped back into the office from taking the phone call from the pizza man. Who's wasn't the actual the piazza man but no other than Raymond Redmond, she couldn't come out to her team that she was in direct contact with him just yet. Since we just starting to work on the cast of the Blacklist and Raymond Reymond. Which will become to have him on handle leash when needing information but not being at his backing call either when he wanted to know where certain drug busts were about to happen. Picking up her coffee and drinking it. Trying to grasp the facts of what she has messed since the call. Listening to the facts around the case of how exactly Reddington was going to be using on this one. When Lizzy had finished her coffee and caught up. When she started to going to get the facts about the blacklist. Ilya Koslov is a former KGB intelligence officer and a childhood friend/lover of

Katarina Rostova

. Also, Ilya is one of Raymond Reddington´s oldest and dearest friends and they seem to know each other since they were children. After Katarina Rostova staged her suicide in Cape May, Ilya helped her disappear. Ilya devised the plan to impersonate Raymond Reddington in order to gain access to the money the Cabal placed in his name to frame him for treason, so they could fund Katarina´s new life. A year later, Ilya was called by Katarina Rostova´s father

Dominic Wilkinson

to a meeting at a cafe in Belgrade. Dom told Ilya that his plan with Katarina didn´t work and informed him that Katarina´s enemies joined forces and formed the Townsend Directive to hunt and kill her. Afraid that the Townsend Directive could harm his granddaughter

Masha

, Dom enlisted Ilya to help him kill Katarina to calm down the Directive and keep Masha safe. Still in Belgrade, Ilya, following Dom´s plan, lured Katarina to an ambush where he and Dom tried to kill Katarina with a car bomb in front of the whole Directive, but they failed and ended up killing her new husband instead. After that, Ilya went into hiding. He started a family and left the life of espionage and crime behind him, though he still kept in touch with Raymond Reddington.

Cooper threading his finger through his hands before standing up. “ Go and get her and bring her in Ressler and Keen”

Within a few minutes, Ressler and keen were heading out of his office and on our way out of the office. To break up the conversation from work. Gessler talked about other things outside of work since their days were long. When Ressler asked, “how was Tom doing?” she simple replied “He's good, I'm just glad he has a boring (Not tell him I said that) and safe Job and is not in the front line with us. “

Tom - -He'd effectively extracted information from his new friend and gave him a dose of medication that would wipe out his short term memory. Leaving him in an alley it would look liked he'd over indulged in his extra curricular activities and none would be the wiser. Paying his information off he got his things packed and ready. His mind on Elizabeth now, this was all necessary to keep her safe.

Lizzy - Arriving at the apartment of ex KGB intelligence office. Lizzy and Ressel knocked on the door and waited with their badge ready for a reply. Since they were here to bring in Katrina Rostona. When their we're voices coming from the apartment but no one was going to answer. Knocking on the door a second time. When Ressel and keen separated. Russell moves away from keen to go and find the fire exit and keen listened through the door. Knowing whoever was in the apartment were making a fast getaway through the outdoor fire exit. When Lizzy stop and pulled out her gun opened the apartment door. “This is the FB” when she entered the apartment checking each room.

Tom - -Boarding a plane he sat back, his mission complete for now he could get back to what he was really meant to be doing "protect Elizabeth".

Lizzy - Lizzy started searching each room of the apartment that seemed to be abandon. When she reached for her weapon sweeping the apartment. When a masked person came at her knocking her down from behind jumping from one the bedroom she hadn't reached. When Lizzy gun fell free from her hand and the attacker and she fought for the gun.

Tom- -Landing at the airport he took his car home and found an empty house. Pretty normal thing considering Lizzy's work, he got cleaned up and started to make some dinner so when she did get home she's have something good to eat.-

Lizzy - Lizzy wrestled with the intruders tacking him when she got to the gun. Using her weapon to hit him across the head and rolled him onto his front with his hands across the back handcuffing him up with her cuffs. You will are coming with me to answer some questions after you have received some medical care for the blood coming from the top of his head. Lizzy had secured his hands with her handcuffs before getting herself as him onto their feet to exit the room to way their way outside to the local police taking him away to the hospital to be examined. When she stopped to phone her partner Gessler. With him on his away back. She had some time while waiting for Gessler she typed up a text to Tom. “Hi babe, I hope you are doing okay. Hope to see you very soon L x”

Tom - -Texting her back.- I’ve made spinach manicotti for dinner a Spanish flan. Beware I may eat it all if you don’t get here soon.

Lizzy - Liz smiled reading his text. When she instantly reply*

Mr keen that's sound like some kind of threat. You know threatening FBI agent could come with consequences even for you Tom. I'll be home to see you very soon. Dinner sound amazing should be there in 30 minutes babe. *Lizzy puts her phone away and wait for zessler to come back to head back to the office to finish up for today.

[shiphaussecretsanta]

Deserving

Secret Santa gift from isitjustmeinhere for @staranon95

Ship: Killemses

warnings for torture and angst!

It was stupidity on his part, when he thinks on it. Needing a speedy escape from a heist was no excuse to cut through an enemy gang’s territory alone, yet he’d done it without a thought. In his defense, it’s hard to think with three dozen heavily armed, pissed off LSPD officers on your back. He couldn’t have anticipated how quickly it would go south, however, high profile enough that a scout had seen him two minutes into his excursion. The ensuing fight hadn’t been much of a fight at all, a sneaky blow to the back of the head leaving him off balance and nauseous enough to only throw  a handful of punches before he took another hit to the temple and went down hard.

There’s no telling how long he was out for, but it must have been significant if the ache in his ass from the metal chair is any indication. He can feel the dried blood on his lips from where the punk scout had gotten in a solid hit, but the taste of blood is absent, so it was definitely an extended time lapse. His head is still fuzzy, his stomach churning and eyes burning even in the low warehouse lighting. His arms are bound and his wrists feel raw from the shitty rope as he wiggles to see if he can loosen the knots. The door must be behind him, because he hears a creak and some grinding, followed by a shout he’s too exhausted to bother understanding. It only takes moments for him to realize what the guy must have been saying, as the door squeals again to herald two sets of footsteps.

It’s not the first time he’s been tortured, and it probably won’t be the last, with his luck. He’s already in agony when they bring out the bucket of water. His arms and torso are a battlefield of fresh new wounds and old scars, black t-shirt in pieces on the floor. The leader of the two interrogators takes a long drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the bloody mess that he’s sure his forearm is underneath somewhere.

He straightens his suit and asks a question he must know Adam isn’t going to answer. When he gets no response - as if Adam could come up with a single coherent thought through the pain - the other man sits the water bucket in Adam’s lap and forces his head down until he’s taking a startled breath of water right into his lungs. His body tries to cough but that just gives him a mouthful of water that he tries desperately not to inhale. The man holds against his thrashing until his lungs are on fire and his vision goes spotty.

When he’s finally allowed air, he takes it in like a dying man, which, considering how much water he just coughed up, he kind of was. It’s a pretty rudimentary version of waterboarding, but definitely just as effective. More efficient. To the point.

They must be pretty well hidden if no one has come for him yet, far away or more likely in some dump his gang doesn’t know is an enemy safehouse. Smart, on this gang’s part, honestly. It’s bought them some time to actually get to the interrogation before they die. Which is unusual, because normally the guys don’t take more than a couple hours to bash their way into a hideout when one of their own is inside. But it’s totally fine, because they’re definitely coming, despite what this dickfuck in the suit is saying. His friends wouldn’t abandon him, right? Because they were friends, not just partners. Yeah, of course they’re coming. Lawrence and Bones are typing away at computers and the rest are suiting up, no, already suited up, because they are just waiting on a location, chomping at the bit to go save Adam because they care about him and love him and would protect him and are definitely going to save him. Yup, yes.

They take no notice of his burgeoning panic attack, shoving his head back under the surface of the water. This time he doesn’t hold, actually tears Adam’s head back out by the hair before dunking it again and again. It forces his breathing pattern to something abnormal, closer to hyperventilating that regular breathing. Ah, so they had noticed his panic attack. Nothing better for panic than not knowing when your next breath will come!

He tries to remember all the techniques for keeping calm, but he’s probably concussed and his head is fuzzy and his thoughts all jumbled, everything too much for him to comprehend and this motherfucker is still dunking his head like he’s a damn piece of laundry in the olden days. It’s almost a relief when his head is held underwater for longer, his neck and upper back twinging with pain after the rough treatment. His eyes burn no matter how hard he squeezes them shut against the water, his lungs feel heavy, his heart is hammering in his chest and ears. He might die here, he realizes.

His head is released, not torn from the water as it had been before, which is how he knows something is up. They’re not just going to go good cop on him for no reason. A smile breaks over his face as he hears a shitty high pitched imitation of a woman’s voice from the door. He’d recognize James anywhere.

Things should have gone batshit after that, guns-a-blazing and blows flying, but Elyse comes down from the ceiling behind Suit Guy and puts one into the back of his skull, followed quickly by one between Other Guy’s eyes. How she got through the ceiling without being noticed, Adam will never know, and he doesn’t particularly care to. James is already undoing his bonds, cheap twine splitting easily against his knife. Once he frees Adam’s legs, Adam throws the damn bucket of water onto the ground and kicks it with a fervent hatred he hasn’t felt since his teenage years. Maybe he promptly falls over because his head is still swimming, but the point is made.

“Hey,” he says, looking between the two, speech slurred and throat raw, “Can we go home now?” James laughs and Elyse smiles, shaking her head fondly as Matt peeks through the door to see Adam flat on his ass on the floor.

“Yeah buddy,” James says, “We can go home now.”

——

The drive home is objectively short, but it feels like a thousand years to Adam, battered and exhausted. Nothing sounds better than falling face-first onto his bed and sleeping forever. But instead Peake is wrapping his arms in old cloth until they can get to gauze and proper medical supplies, silent like he knows Adam’s head is still buzzing.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” is the only thing Matt says, murmured just after they walk into the penthouse and go their separate ways. Adam makes his way to the nearest bathroom, more than ready for a few painkillers to dull his headache and the agony of his arms and chest. James and Elyse come in to find him sorting through the pill bottles, trying to decide which will be most effective without thinning his blood too much. Some of the wounds are still bleeding sluggishly and he doesn’t want to make them worse.

“Hey buddy,” James greets him, grabbing a bottle of something Adam can’t quite remember but is pretty sure is oxy. He gives Adam one and says he can have another only if he really needs it. It’s good to have someone care like that, enough to bother taking his addictive personality into account.

Elyse hands him a small bathroom cup of water to help down the pill, getting to work on unwrapping Adam’s arms and torso. It sticks in a few places and Adam can’t help but hiss as a few wounds rip back open. Some need stitches, and James has a suture kit at the ready. He begins and Elyse switches between helping him and gently showering Adam’s face in kisses.

The maybe-oxy kicks in a handful of minutes later and Adam’s already tired brain is even more desperate for sleep. He thinks of curling up in James and Elyse’s bed, one of them on either side, and sleeping until his body is sore from it. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. But James has decided to close up the majority of his injuries, so it’s taking forever and a day, suture kits being jammed into the little bathroom trash can one after another. They’re gonna need to order more at this rate. Usually, he would be grumpy about having to sit on the edge of the tub for so long, but he’s getting a kiss per stitch, so maybe it’s not so bad.

James finishes cleaning off the last wound and starts applying gauze, thank god. They may as well just wrap him up like a mummy at this point, chaining together so much gauze he’s practically wearing a really weird shirt. Could you imagine a gauze shirt? Sounds itchy and fragile. Hard to sew. He may be a little loopy, but he thinks it’s justified after literally everything that happened today.

“Can we go to sleep now?” he asks, leaning his forehead against James’s to look imploringly into those ocean-clear eyes. James laughs again like before, one of Adam’s favorite sounds, pressing their lips together slowly before agreeing. Elyse tosses the last suture pack into the trash, teaming up with James to help Adam up off his perch. They’re so gentle with him it’s practically unbearable. He can’t believe he ever doubted them.

The walk to their bedroom is short, Adam’s stumbling kept to a minimum with them under either shoulder. They lower him onto the bed first, James helping him pull up his legs so he can lay down right. He scoots over to his side of the bed, closing his eyes gratefully while he waits for them to get in too.

“Hey, move over,” Elyse says, nudging him carefully. He opens his eyes and tries not to show how delighted he is to be relegated to the middle; it’s the best place to be and he usually only gets it on bad days. Well, today has certainly been one hell of a bad day, he guesses. He moves over until he hits James, who wraps arms around him in a tight hug that might have hurt without painkillers in his system, while Elyse slides into bed and pulls the covers up over the three of them. Once James releases him, Elyse pulls him in, holding him just as tight.

“Sorry it took so long to find you,” she says, voice warbling from unshed tears. He just hugs her harder, placing a kiss on top of her head. When she finally lets him go, he kisses her soft and sweet until the tears subside.

“James, now you have to cry,” she says, to James’s laughter that may or may not be a little soggy, “I can’t be the only one.”

“Already there,” he sniffles, slinging an arm over a clear part of Adam’s torso, “But our baby boy is home.” Adam preens at the nickname, nuzzling his face into Elyse’s neck with a content sigh. This is where he belongs. Right here with the two of them, even sliced up and brain-bruised. Everything is tolerable, he can make it through anything, so long as he has this to come back to.

James kisses the nape of his neck and whispers more terms of endearment there, while Elyse talks reassurances against his lips and oops, he might be the one crying now. He wants to blame it on the concussion, wants to find some reason for it that isn’t just him being overwhelmed at their love, but he doesn’t have to with them. He doesn’t have to find excuses for his emotions anymore, not with James and Elyse. He’s allowed to cry and that just makes him cry more, because they’re so lovely and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve them.

He turns so that he can reach James’s face too, and cycles between giving each of them kisses until his tears stop and his eyes won’t stay open any longer. He drifts to sleep safe and warm, between the two he loves who love him back.

[avengers-sweethearts]

Your Fault (Peter Parker x Reader)

It had been a long day at school, and the one thing on your mind was a movie date you had planned with your couch. Even though your house wasn't too far, you hated walking home on the streets. You noticed tiny droplets on your skin and sighed as the rain fell harder.

You stopped by the convenience store on your way home to get some popcorn, ice cream, and hopefully an umbrella. Unfortunately, there was no umbrella, but you got your comfort foods which were all that really mattered. You tried to wait for the rain to pass before you continued your journey, but the storm was relentless. It was only two more blocks until your building, but it felt more like a mile with the wind pushing you two steps back every step you took.

"This is just my luck." You normally loved the rain, but today it was your weakness. You felt the need to take off your shoes upon entering your building as there were miniature swimming pools in your converse. You shivered all the way up the stairs and struggled with the key to your apartment. You closed the door behind you and paused as you heard a television program playing. "Did I leave the TV on? Or is there someone else in here?" You questioned yourself.

You stood in shock, not wanting to move due to the fact that you were freezing from the rain and that there could potentially be a stranger in your house.

"Y/n is that you?" A familiar voice called out.

You peered around the corner to find Peter  Parker on your couch with his laptop open and papers spread out everywhere.

Peter quickly noticed the state you were in. You held yourself in the same position, shivering as your hair dripped water onto the floor and your clothes stuck slightly closer to your skin. He got up without saying a word and nearly ran to your bathroom. As soon as he'd left your sight, you couldn't help but slide to the floor and hold your knees against your chest.

You closed your eyes as you leaned against the wall. You felt a small thud next to you followed by a towel wrapped around your shoulders and a comforting arm rubbing up and down trying to get you warm.

"Thank you," you croaked, "Peter, why are you here?"

"You gave me a key, remember? To work on that research project," he stuttered.

"Oh yeah, I completely lost track of time... Crap I'm so sorry Peter."

"No no, don't worry about it, I've already started."

You felt awful for having forgotten about your study session with Peter. He was in a few of your classes and you were working on a presentation together. You've been close friends throughout middle, now high school, or so you thought at least. He was the only person you really felt comfortable with.

"I was just wondering, where are your parents Y/n?" Peter asked.

You hesitated to answer. You couldn't look Peter in the eyes when you told him. You were afraid he would judge you, but you felt the need to explain. You took a big breath.

"Well... My mom isn't really in the picture and my dad is overseas. So he helped me find this apartment. He doesn't come home often, but when he does he stays with his girlfriend and her two kids. I take care of myself," you started to tear up. You felt Peter's arm tense up pulling you into a hug.

"I... I'm so sorry I didn't mean to cause any discomfort."

"No it's fine, don't worry," you reassured Peter. "I'm going to go find a change of clothes and we can get started, or continue with that research, okay?"

He helped you up and looked at you with a sincere care that for some reason made you feel at ease. You changed into your favorite sweatshirt and jeans and met Peter in the living room to work.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up super early on Friday to make some breakfast before school. Zoning off into space, you ended up burning your hand on the pan you were making pancakes with.

With the time it took to handle the injury you acquired you, of course, were running late for school. "Once again, just my luck." You sprinted out of your apartment, down the stairs, slowed down near the front desk, and picked up your walking pace to try and make it to school on time.

A few blocks back you noticed a man dressed in all black following close behind you. You reassured yourself that it was no big deal, after all, it was a big city where people walked everywhere. You tried to think about anything else, for example how it was Friday and that the weekend was near, but you couldn't shake the thought of being followed.

Not caring about being late for school anymore, you snuck into a tight alley to try and get this guy off your heels. You watched him pass the alley and then exhaled a large hot breath of air. You'd sorta been holding it the whole time out of fear.

Your phone buzzed continuously in your back pocket. As you were looking down to check your messages, you were distracted by a stray cat scurrying past you and out of the alley before you had time to turn around. You felt a quick prick in your arm and a black fabric over your face, your legs quickly giving out. Your body felt limp as if your soul had left it, you were out cold.

The messages you never got to reply to came from Peter. He was getting nervous as you weren't there for your presentation together for first hour. He never doubted you, but he couldn't help but think you abandoned him this time. The first bell rang and he headed to class without you. "She's never late... I mean she may be running late all the time, but she always makes it before the bell. Have a little hope, Parker."

The minutes it took for the last bell to ring felt like hours, yet you still weren't there. Peter wondered what could have happened in the time that he saw you last night to now. He worried for you, but at the same time, his legs were shaking as he was anxious for the presentation he now had to do without you by his side.

Meanwhile, you were starting to gain consciousness although the room you were in was dark. You tried moving your hands but found them tightly cuffed to the chair as well as your ankles. There was one dim light bulb and a long table on the other side of the room.

"Ahhh you're finally awake my dear," a voice emerged from the darkness behind you. Three other men lifted the chair you were chained to toward the table. You recognized the one from the street as he walked to turn on the fluorescent lights. The light blinded you but as your eyes adjusted you noticed all of the men surrounding you. They were all rather large and muscular, you knew you had no chance at escaping without getting hurt.

"Alright sweet cheeks, I'm only going to ask once. You know what we want, so just tell us what we want to know," the man said with a grimace.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, why am I even here?" You replied confused.

Without warning, he slapped you across the face as the other men joined in. They kicked and hit like your whole body was a punching bag. They all took turns making comments about how worthless you were, which made you even more upset and confused. You tried to fight back but only made the cuts from the cuffs deeper.

You had no idea who they these men were or what they wanted, but you knew it was only going to get worse. One final blow to the face knocked you out and your body slumped over in the chair, falling over on the floor, and the men decided you'd had enough for now. The lights were turned off and the door was locked, you could only wonder when the next torture session would be.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Peter sprinted out of school and to your apartment after third period. He was worried sick, even more so because you weren't answering his messages. This wasn't like you.

Everything looked normal at your apartment except a pan and a box of pancake mix was left out from breakfast this morning. The light in the bathroom was also on with a first aid kit sprawled out on the floor. Peter was curious as to what happened but it didn't look too suspicious.

"Maybe Mr. Stark can help me!" Peter thought aloud.

Peter called Happy's phone and immediately reached voicemail. So he tried Tony's phone number since he'd gotten it for any questions about his Spiderman suit. He thought now was the most opportune time to use that resource.

"Hey Mr. Stark, I've got a quick question... Can you help me?" Peter spoke.

"Oh, it's the kid. Well for 1) You already asked me a question and 2) if it's not about the suit I can't help you," Tony replied with a bit of attitude.

"Well, it's kind of about the suit. You see, my friend went missing this morning and..."

"Wait, is this friend possibly a girl?" Tony questioned.

"Yes, but that doesn't matter right now. I need to find her, can you help me?"

"Look kid, I would love to help, but I'm a little busy right now. Why don't you just get Karen to help you, just put on the suit. You'll figure it out. Chow."

With haste, Peter grabbed his suit from his backpack. The AI in the suit led him to an alley where he found your backpack on the ground as well as your phone. The ground was still muddy from all the rain the past couple of days which Peter then noticed footprints.

Karen sorted an algorithm that tracked those footsteps out into the streets, through thermal and pressurized sensors.

"Woah, this is so cool!" Peter followed the path to a sketchy looking warehouse. He was too focused on the footprints to notice the cameras latching on to his figure.

As soon as Peter had the chance to look up, a swarm of men double his size came running towards him. "Oh crap." Even though Peter was Spiderman he still felt intimated by some of his enemies sometimes, especially being the young adult he was fighting much larger adults.

He frantically shot a web toward the roof of the building, soaring above the group. The men were confused and frustrated trying to climb the side like a mob of teenagers at a concert. Peter used the vantage point to stick their hands to the wall and pounce down, slamming them against the concrete.

Peter ran as fast as he could down the hallways of the warehouse, ending up in a large room with doors everywhere. He had no idea where any of them led, he just needed to find you. He stood awestruck, unable to solve the puzzle. Karen pitched some clues of what was behind the doors, but all he could really see were hallways and furniture.

In a land of his own, he once again allowed a buff group of soldiers to sneak up behind him. Peter felt restrained and was unable to shoot his webs. His energy slowly started to drain as he realized he had been injected with a serum. He tried with as much effort possible to fight back, but only felt burning sensations digging deeper into his skin.

Unlike Peter, he started to shut down. He didn't want to give up, he wasn't giving up. He vaguely noticed his limp body being lifted and carried to a room, the door being locked behind him, with no light except for a dim lightbulb in the corner.

Peter quickly got up trying to find a way out, but only making his head spin faster. He tried his webs on the door with no result. Starting at the door he threw his sore body against the wood, and without warning, it flew open and two men came charging toward him. He confusedly scurried out of the room with the men at his heels and prepared to defend himself as he tried to figure out where you were. No pressure.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You groggily came back to consciousness hearing great commotion outside your cell. You jumped at each gunshot and winced at each scream. A man you recognized from previous encounters barged into the room, the light burning your eyes, and grabbed you harshly by the wrist.

"No time to talk sweet cheeks, not like it matters to a low life like you anyway," the soldier announced arrogantly.

You learned to accept the things that the men said to you and the things they did to you over the past few days. It felt more like months rather than days since you couldn't tell how time passed in your dark cell.

You walked down the hallway to the main room and watched the chaos going on. You saw a flash of red and blue, which could only mean that Spiderman was here.

The soldier called his men to back down and led you to the middle of the room where two other men you recognized were holding Spiderman's arms. You could tell that the hero was confused as he struggled to free himself from the soldier's grip, but you just continued stared at him blankly. The man who led you here pushed you in front of him and held a knife to your throat.

"Is this what you want, Spiderboy?" He snarled.

"No, no... Please let her go," Spiderman cried out.

"I don't think you understand. This is bigger than saving the girl." In the time the soldier made his spiel Spiderman managed to tangle some webs and made a quick move to break free. The men were dumbfounded, taking a second to realize they had failed at keeping him hostage and more fighting had begun.

"Don't you dare think about moving," the main soldier growled in your ear.

The intensity of the fight had greatly increased with webs everywhere as Spiderman flew across the room trying to fight off the men. It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion as you watched every move. Out of nowhere the great Iron Man burst through the ceiling and helped fight off the sea of men that began to appear from each hall.

"Mr. Stark... What exactly are you doing here?" You heard Spiderman shout.

"You called about the suit, you know there's a tracker in there. You can't fool me kid, I shouldn't have to come to your rescue as you continue to break the guidelines I specifically gave to you!"

You watched Spiderman struggle with three men surrounding him as he punched and dodged their moves, but not before one of the soldiers behind him ripped the mask off revealing his identity.

"Peter," you whispered.

The warehouse was filled with smoke and it seemed as if the men were retreating, realizing the fight was too large for them to handle at this point. The main soldier came charging back towards you injecting you with a serum, making you begin to lose consciousness and started to run with you towards the exit.

"Not so fast my friend," you heard Peter say as he swung from across the room kicking the soldier in the head to knock him out. You felt Peter lift you up, telling you that you were going to be okay, before you completely lost consciousness.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You awoke in what seemed to be Peter's room and sat up at the edge of the bed. Peter walked in quickly noticing you were awake.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked.

"I don't know, not too great but I'm breathing as always," you replied.

"I know. You're quite the fighter Y/n." He said as he approached closer to the bed and kneeled down next to you. You weren't really paying attention to what he was doing as you stared off into the distance. Peter had brought some supplies with him. He had some hydrogen peroxide in a bowl and a washcloth soaked in it, bandages, ice packs, and some ibuprofen to try and help with some of the pain you've encountered from the past couple of days.

Peter wrung out the washcloth and tried as gently as possible to apply pressure to the open wounds all over your skin. You jumped slightly at his touch and softly put your hand over his. He looked up at you asking if you were ok and continued to treat your other gashes.

"I know what you're thinking, Peter," you mumbled, "This isn't your fault."

"Yes it is Y/n, you know it is. Those men were just trying to lure me to them, so they took the closest thing to me," Peter replied without giving you eye contact.

"If I'm the 'closest thing to you' then how come you never told me that you were Spiderman... I mean come on, I thought I was your best friend," you exclaimed.

"Y/n, I think you of all people can understand why I didn't tell you, I also think you know better than to question our relationship."

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," you assured Peter.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n, I never meant for anything like this to happen," Peter said as he cleaned up his first aid supplies.

You placed your hand under his chin to force him to look at you, "This is not your fault."

Peter slowly moved in so that there was nearly no space left between you and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you as he held his hands on your hips. You broke the kiss and rested your forehead on his.

"So, I'm back to questioning our relationship aren't I."

Peter chuckled, "I guess you are."

[idornaseminary]

Chapter Two-Hundred Thirty-Two: Beatrice/Calix

Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.

After hearing everything the professors had to say at the debriefing- stay inside, use the buddy system if you have to go to the bathroom, stay away from windows -Beatrice had had enough. Her friends were alive, the school was safe, and she was tired. The echoing chatter bouncing off the walls of the Great Hall was enough to give her a headache. While friends celebrated and enemies made peace, the young witch was discontented with the fact she could do neither.

She stepped outside the doors of the Great Hall, her arms crossed over her snagged green knit jumper, rust-colored stains pooling around each tear in the soft yarn. Leaning in the doorway, she stared out at the hallway, a saddened smile pulling at her tired lips as she remembered Halina strutting up and down the staircase, wearing reckless abandon about her shoulders like armor. She could almost see the vivacious politician in training sitting on a bench in the hall, a heavy law textbook in her lap, and a delicate purse by her side, mentally undressing every man who walked past her.

Beatrice glanced over her shoulder, checking nobody was watching as she slipped from the Great Hall out into the corridor, heading towards the splintered double doors a couple of charms majors were fastidiously working to put back together. Leaning against the intricately carved banister of the staircase outside the Infirmary, she stood staring out at the dawn of a new day staining the sky a soft yellow.

Hallie would have loved to have seen this sunrise.

The infirmary had been a hive of voracious activity throughout the night, a sweltering mine of rich relief and exhausting exasperation. Calix, after wiping away the tears of happiness that clouded his eyes, threw himself into helping those around him, working expertly alongside Doctor Evans. Those who had been injured in the rising were cooped up in the infirmary, stacked together like caged birds on beds, chairs, windowsills and even on the floor, while those you had returned to them, those reborn from the green ashes of magic, were clustered in the storeroom until Calix and Evans got a chance to look at them properly.

He spent a few hours in the infirmary, an endless recital of spells and charms in archaic languages rolling from his tongue like memorised poetry. While he moved from patient to patient, some laughing deliriously, some quite like stone and some conversing in hushed but grateful times, Calix was glad that Sam and Tysoe had offered to stay the night, their lent hands greatly appreciated for minor errands, tasks, and runs. Eventually, as the golden morning rays began to poke through the windows, Calix forced himself to retire. There was very little else he could do, when all his magic was spent, except getting lost in his own thoughts.

He passed out of the infirmary, stepping out into the quiet corridor, colored straw-yellow by the rising sun, wringing his raw and tired hands together as the vitality sigils carved into the back of his hands burned out.

Beatrice tore her gaze away from the gold swept clouds outside, smiling as she looked over at Calix just leaving the hospital wing. Pushing off the mahogany banister, she took a few steps towards the man, her small, cold hands outstretched towards his. “Hey there, stranger. You okay?”

The sweet sound brought a smile to Calix’s tired lips, the edges of his mouth cracking. He gently took Beatrice’s hands in his and pulled her close, wincing a little, but braving the pain.

“Hey there, love. I’m… I’m alive, I suppose. How are you?”

“Tired.” She looked at his hands, his skin red and flaking, having been scrubbed raw over the course of the night. “Oh, dear. Maybe for Valentine’s Day this year I should get you a bottle of extra strength hand lotion,” she teased, wrapping her arms lightly around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Too bad I already got you a gift.”

Calix groaned heavily, Beatrice’s hold putting unwanted pressure on his shoulder joint. A sharp pain darted across his back, traveling down along his spine, and sending a shudder through his body, a reflexive, involuntary recoil.

“My hands are always gonna be this way, love,” Calix tried to chuckle through the pain, “And what do you mean you already got me a gift? Really?”

Beatrice nodded took a step back and pulled the collar of her jumper away from her skin, lifting a set of three stainless steel keys on a silver chain from around her neck. She deftly unclasped the necklace, and took one of the keys off, stashing it in the pocket of her ripped blue jeans before handing the others to him. “To the Observatory. One for you, and one for Ryker,” she explained quietly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, pele.”

“The Observatory?” Calix asked, looking down at the two keys in his hand, the smooth metal beautiful engraved and charged with magical energy. He stared at the early Valentine’s gift without saying another word for a moment, mesmerised by both of them.

“One for Ryker? And me? You mean…”

“I was wondering if the two of you would like to come and live with me in my new house. We have seven months before school starts, and I’m sure my mother would be happy to have somebody as bright and talented as you working with her. And I think Ryker would really like living in Samoa with us. He’d have his own room and there’s a pool and a library in the Observatory, and we’re at the top of the mountain so he wouldn’t have to worry about what the neighbors might think. I know Mahana and Keise would be happy to welcome him to the family too,” she babbled, finally taking a breath when she realized she was dangerously light headed.

She laced her fingers together and held her clasped hands steadily in front of her, slowly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, the chill radiating off the polished wooden floor seeping through the worn soles of her Toms. “What do you think?”

The gears inside Calix’s mind churned sluggishly, struggling to properly process the torrent of information. Calix fixated on the keys for a moment longer, slowly curling his coarse fingers around them until the jagged teeth bit harshly into the palm of his hand.

Glancing up, Calix stepped closer and drew Beatrice into a hearty embrace, clenching his teeth but holding to his chest her as tightly as he could.

“I love you, Beatrice,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

“And I love you, Calix,” she mumbled into his chest, the sweet smell of cherry blossoms whirling around her head like a cloud of cotton candy. “Please tell me that’s a yes,” she said as she pulled back a bit, staring up into his eyes, her hand tenderly cupping his cheek in her soft palm.

“Are you joking?” Calix laughed, throwing his head back at the innocence of her worrying and the pleading look in her star-filled eyes.

“Bea, I’m not sure if I’m ever coming back here again, but whatever happens, I’m never letting you go, love,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers in a tender lock, “It’s yes, a million times yes.”

She kissed him again and again until her toes began to cramp and she had to stand down on solid ground once more, her ear resting on his chest, the steady, reliable beat of his heart counting each moment as it passed. Whatever had happened this year, losing friends, saying goodbye to mortal enemies, and nearly falling apart more times than she could count, she had to thank this magical place for carrying her own little world to a grinding halt so she could see the heavens beyond.

It was worth it.

Stood there with Calix, basking in the glow of a new day, the dew frozen solid on blades of grass in the meadow beyond the castle, a bittersweet chill cleansing the air as the occupants of a castle would soon have to set forth into a new world, Beatrice closed her eyes and let it all wash over her. She would return to Idorna when the time came because it’s where her life changed forever and more than anything, she wanted to discover what else the stars had in store for her. “I can’t wait.”

[mischiefandspirits]

We Are One

Sequel to Roar

Now that all the lions have been found, the team are faced with new challenges and changes. While the paladins and their cats learn how to work together, Allura and Coran prepare the castle to take their fight to the stars. Until then, they get to meet new friends and defend against an old enemy.

Find more. Also on: AO3 & Fanfiction

Part 4: Interlude: Mother of Cats, Part 2

Red doesn't understand organic creatures, but she still ends up adopting a baby.

“Liva, you made it!”

“Of course I made it! How could you think I’d miss your birthday, little Shiro?” Liva laughed, holding out the bag she had brought with her.

Takashi, or Shiro as Liva had taken to calling him, eagerly took the bag and stepped aside so she could come into the house. “You’ve been gone for forever!”

“Forever, huh? And here I thought you were just turning nine. I don’t think my gift is right for a forever years old. I guess I’ll just have to take it back.” She mocked reaching for it and the boy jumped away.

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t forever, but it was still a long time.”

“It was two weeks.”

“Exactly!”

Liva chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

Shiro huffed then he spotted the nose peeking out of Liva’s purse. “Is that Romelle? She's even cuter than the pictures!”

Purring, the caracal kitten peaked out at of the bag, then jumped at the boy.

“Where’s your brother?”

“He’s in the back making hamburgers. Can I show Romelle to my friends?”

“Hm, I don’t know, what does she think?”

The kitten glanced between the two then let out a huff and nuzzled Shiro’s chin. Taking that as acceptance, the boy cheered and ran off.

Liva smiled and headed out into the back. When she got there, she spotted Akira by the grill with a couple of Shiro’s friends’ parents. “Akira!”

The man looked up and waved. “Liva, glad you could make it.” As she walked up, he introduced the others. Liva did her best to interact, but even after nine Earth months on the planet, she still had problems sometimes understanding human culture and behavior. Thankfully she got through it and the party went on.

An hour later everyone was seated around a couple tables. The burgers had been finished off and Akira was bringing out a cake to the cheers of the kids. Liva stood to offer to help cut it, but the moment she smelled the cake her stomach twisted.

It was odd, sugar was one of her favorite things about Earth. She’d never tasted anything so delicious as Earth food, especially desserts, yet the sweet smell was making feel like she had to…

Liva ran into the house and threw open the door to the bathroom.

“Liva?” Akira called, rushing into the bathroom with Romelle close at his heels.

“Mrrrrr?”

Liva groaned and pushed a few loose strands of her hair away from her face, glad she had put it up for the party.

“What happened?”

“I-I don’t know. My stomach just…”

Akira knelt down and rubbed her back. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Get back to the party. I think I’ll just get cleaned up and head home.”

“You sure? Maybe I should give you a ride.”

“No, it’s fine, really. The feeling’s passed. I’m just going to go home and rest. Just tell Shiro I’m sorry.”

“Well, if you’re sure. At least let me walk you out. The kids are all focused on the cake.”

“Alright, just give me a second.”

Liva sat up once he stepped out and moved over to the sink. She washed her face and rinsed out her mouth before looking at herself in the mirror. What had happened?

Once Akira saw her out, Liva got her bike. Instead of riding home, though, she and Romelle headed towards the forest.

“Wrrrr?”

“I need to figure out what’s wrong with me, and it’s not like the human doctors will be able to help.”

Once they reached the tree line, Liva tucked the bike behind a bush and the two headed in. As soon as they were out of sight, Romelle squirmed out of Liva’s purse and dropped to the ground. She shook herself then shifted, taking on the form of a gremop, a creature similar to Earth tigers with the height of an Earth horse and six tails.

She crouched down and stared at Liva.

“You’re going to be exhausted after this, you know.”

Romelle just continued to stare.

“Alright then, if you insist.” Liva sat down on Romelle’s back and grabbed the fur on her neck.

Once she was sure Liva was ready, Romelle stood up and took off into the forest. She ran until she reached the hidden cave where they had stored the pod. When they got there, she let Liva off before collapsing off by the wall.

The woman chuckled and stroked the gremop’s side. After letting the nausea that had risen up once more fade, she headed inside the pod to the emergency kit and pulled out the biometric scanner. She scanned herself then sat down to wait.

Red’s tail flicked back and forth as Liva delivered the news to Akira, who looked shocked.

Honestly, Red didn't think she'd ever understand how organic creatures could be so ignorant about what was happening with their bodies. Sure, they couldn't just run a diagnostic scan, but their bodies still gave them so many hints!

She supposed Liva could have a pass -- How were they supposed to know humans and Galra were compatible -- but Akira? What did he think was going to come from what they had been doing?

Red huffed and nosed Shiro’s hand so he'd start petting her again.

“I was so careless! But how was I supposed to know… I didn't think I could… What am I going to do?”

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. You’re not alone with this. I’ll help you through this.”

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t have to. I'm not just going to abandon you, Liva.”

Teary-eyed, Liva threw herself at Akira and pulled him into a hug.

“I wish I was human.”

Red yawned and turned her head to look at Liva, who was laying on the bed next to her flicking through one of the pregnancy books she had picked up.

“I mean, they're so fragile -- look at the mortality rate for both the mother's and the children! -- and who’d want to run the risk of carrying multiple children inside you, but otherwise their pregnancies are so simple! Some cravings, nausea, pain, and mood swings. That's it! No nesting! No fur and hair going pale! No spurts of temporary blindness!” she sighed and tossed the book.

Red flicked her tail before turning away. She forgot how insane people were when they were carrying a child.

“Is it going to be a boy or girl?” Shiro asked.

Liva frowned. How would she- Oh, right!

“It’s going to be a girl.” Just another thing she didn’t understand about humans; human genders were determined by sex markers until the human said otherwise. And even then-

“So is Liva going to be my sister?”

Akira spat out his coffee and Liva blushed.

“Have you settled on a name?”

Akira glanced over at Liva, who smiled. “Not yet. We’re still debating between Angel, Sora, and Ha-neul.”

“Those are such cute names. Of course, with a mother like you she’s sure to be just as cute!” Shiro’s teacher said as she led them out of the classroom.

“Yes, I suppose they will.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you both,” she said as she opened the door for them. She smiled at Shiro, who was waiting outside, and added, “Although hopefully we won’t have to meet again. Not that I’m worried. As I said, Takashi’s a model student.”

“Are you two going to get married?”

Liva glanced towards the woman standing next to her -- the grandmother of one of Shiro’s friends -- then turned to Akira. He wrapped his arm around her waist and answered for her. “We haven’t made any decisions, yet. We both agreed to wait until after the baby’s born so we can be sure that’s not the only reason we’re doing this.”

“Smart,” the woman chuckled. “Too many kids these days, off getting married before they know what to do with themselves. No wonder people are getting divorced left and right! Now, how far along are you darling?”

“About twenty-five weeks.”

“Ah, right in the middle are you! Have they started kicking yet?”

“All the time,” Liva chuckled, resting her hand on her stomach.

“May I?”

Liva nodded and the woman brushed her hand over her stomach. The woman chuckled as she felt the baby kick against her hand.

“I have three kids and seven grandkids and still, this never gets old,” she sighed, pulling away. “How’s little Takashi handling it?”

“He’s thrilled. He hasn’t stopped talking about his little niece. He even set aside a few of his stuffed animals for her,” Akira laughed.

“That’s good, especially if you two do end up getting married.”

“Where is it? I know I had it on me when I left. It has to be here somewhere.”

“Wrrrrrr?”

Liva only wasted a second to glance at Romelle before going back to work. “I’m looking for a vial. About this big, bright purple liquid inside, should be connected to a chain.”

The caracal’s head tilted to the side and she slipped into the pod to duck under a few boxes. When she pulled out again, she had a chain clenched in her teeth.

“Oh, you found it!” Liva ran over, as fast as she could with only a few weeks left until her due date, and took the vial.

Romelle nosed her leg and she looked down with a sad smile. “It’s a surprise.”

“I still say I should go with you.”

“It’s fine, really. You’ve got work and Shiro’s got school. I’ll be okay. The doctor said both the baby and I are fine and showing no signs of complications.”

“I wish you could just stay and have the baby in town.”

“I know, but even if my family’s gone, I still want to follow their traditions. I won’t be gone long and I’ll call you everyday.”

“Alright. Is there anything you need before you go?”

“No, but thank you. I’ve got everything packed. I’m just waiting for my car now.”

“Be safe.”

Liva froze, then let out a shaky sigh. “You too. I’ll call you once I get there. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Liva hung up the phone and drooped in her seat. “It would be so much easier if I could just tell him.” She looked over to where Romelle was sleeping before getting up to double check her bags. Once done, she pulled out her portable holoscreen and brought up the feed. “Only a few more weeks.”

Red paced back and forth outside the pod. How long were these things supposed to take?

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

<Ugh! That’s it! I’m going hunting,> she hissed.

The pod doors swished open and Red was immediately in front of them. The droid Liva had modified beeped at her before turning around and floating back inside. Red followed it inside, past a small pile of bloody fabric to where Liva was lying curled up in a much larger pile with a small squirming thing tucked against her chest.

Red nosed Liva’s leg, pushing her towards her seat, but the woman waved her off with a chuckle. “I’m fine!”

Red huffed and her ears pressed flat against her head. She turned away, her tail flicking back and forth, and slipped into the nest of blankets to curl around Kitten’s small form.

“There, everything’s complete. Now there’s just one last thing to do.” Red looked up as Liva approached. The woman tucked the papers from the machine she had set up months earlier into her bags and pulled out the vial Red had found for her weeks before.

Only now the liquid inside was a golden green color.

<What’s that?>

Liva smiled and stroked her head before carefully picking Kitten up. The cub whimpered and shifted, his yellow eyes flicking open for only a second before he covered them with a whine. “Sorry, love. I know it’s a little bright in here. Mama’s not used to it so dark anymore. This will help. Open up.”

Red was immediately on her feet as Liva opened the vial and brought it towards Kitten’s face. <What are you doing!?>

Liva gave her a sad smile. “It’s okay, Romelle. This is just going to help Angel fit in. It won’t hurt them.”

Red shifted nervously as Liva poured the liquid into Kitten’s mouth. She didn’t like the feel of the liquid. It smelled like dark magic, like the witch that had been following around Reject. Liva wouldn’t hurt the cub though, right?

Kitten whimpered again and shifted in Liva’s arms. Suddenly, his ears began to shift, becoming small and rounded like a human’s. The fluff of hair on top of his head darkened to pitch black. The vibrant lavender skin around his eyes and most of the splotches around his body changed to match the cream tone he’d gotten from his father. Finally his eyes opened and instead of the normal Galra yellow, his eyes were a shade of dark grey-blue-purple.

<What did you do?> Red hissed as she sniffed at the cub.

She could barely even smell the Galra underneath all the human and magic! Wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been looking for it!

“Hey, it’s still Angel, Romelle. They just need to look fully human if th- we’re going to keep hidden.”

Red’s ears flicked at a knock from the front door, but ignored it in favor of watching Kitten gurgle in his sleep. She heard voices in the living room, then the bedroom door slowly opened.

“Quiet, Shiro. They are probably still asleep. And don’t get too close, Romelle’s been in full mother cat mode lately.”

Red looked away from the pillow bed’s occupant to see Shiro tiptoeing into the room. “Okay Liva,” he quietly called as he turned to shut the door.

“Honestly, you’d think Angel was her’s the way she’s been acting,” Red heard Liva sigh just before the door clicked closed.

What did Liva expect? She had used dark magic on her child! Clearly Red would have to step up to be a proper mother for Kitten!

Shiro tiptoed across the room, pausing halfway when he noticed Red watching him.

“H-hey, Romelle,” he whispered. “It’s okay, I just want to see the baby. Is that alright?” He knelt down and held out his hand.

Red eyed him and his hand, her tail slowly waving back and forth. She’d seen how rowdy human children could be, Shiro included, and her cub needed his rest. Human children could also be extremely clumsy. Although, Shiro didn’t seem nearly as bad as the others. He was also kind and gave great scratches. Then there was the fact he felt like Black… Yes, she supposed she could trust Shiro with her cub.

As long as she watched him, that is.

<Fine,> the caracal purred and turned back to Kitten. Shiro waited a moment before slowly creeping forward. He sat down next to Red and smiled down at Kitten. Red curled up against him and set her head on his knee.

“Hey bro,” Shiro said before spooning more cereal into his mouth. “Can we get a cat?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have a hamster? Or a pet rock?”

Shiro turned to his brother with a pout.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he huffed.

“Or never,” Akira teased before picking up the phone. “Hello, Shirogane residence.”

Shiro sighed and turned back to the tv.

“WHAT?”

Shiro jumped at his brother’s shout. He looked over his shoulder to see Akira frowning at the wall. He glanced over at Shiro then left the room.

The boy watched the door until Akira came back ten minutes later, calling out for Shiro to, “Grab your shoes.”

“But school’s not for ano-”

“Now, Takashi!”

Shiro’s eyes widened and he ran off to get his shoes from his room.

Shiro shifted nervously in his seat and watched buildings flash by the windows of the car. His worries didn’t let up when they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. “Akira, what’s going on?” he asked as they got out, but his brother just ushered him inside.

“Go sit over there and wait for me,” Akira said, distracted, before rushing over to the reception area.

Shiro bit his lip and glanced towards the waiting area, before sneaking off after his brother. He ducked behind a plant when he saw Akira talking to a police officer.

“Any news?”

“No, but we’re looking. We’ll find her.”

“But will she be alive?”

“Calm down, sir. We have reason to believe she is alive.”

“The officer before said her apartment had been trashed.”

“There were signs of a struggle, yes. But there were no signs of blood so her attackers either managed to subdue her or knocked her out.”

“Or killed her.”

“As I said-”

“Do you have any ideas yet about who did this?”

“I can’t release-”

“What about Angel?”

“The baby was unharmed. She was found asleep, hidden under some blankets in the mother’s bedroom closet. The assailants must have missed her. We probably would have too if we hadn’t been looking and for that cat.”

“Romelle. What happened to her?”

“Nearly attacked my partner when he opened the closet door. It seemed to calm down when it got a look at us though and fled out a window. That’s when the baby woke up.”

“And you said she’s fine?”

“Yes, she was only brought to the hospital as a procation because of how young she is.”

“Can I see her?”

“We have a few questions for you, but then you’ll be able to take her as soon as the hospital allows it. It should only take a moment.”

“Alright, let me just check on my brother-”

Shiro didn’t hear the rest of Akira’s words as he fled back to the waiting area. He grabbed a magazine at random and dropped into a chair just before his brother came into view.

“Shiro,” he called and Shiro looked up from pretending to read the magazine. “I need to take care of something, okay. Don’t go anywhere. If you need anything, just ask the lady behind the counter, alright.”

“Okay, bro.”

Shiro waited exactly one minute after his brother had left before tossing the magazine aside and calmly walking up to the reception counter. “‘Scuse me, miss,” he said in that soft, kiddy voice Shiro knew made women do stupid things.

Like clockwork, the woman looked down at him with a wide smile. “Oh, hello there sweetheart! What are you doing here all alone?”

“My brot’er had to go talk to the p’lice offercer, but he said you could get someone to take me to my baby nib’ while I wait.”

“I don't know…”

Shiro slumped his shoulders and pouted, giving the woman wide eyes. “Pweeeeease!”

“Oh, alright. Just give me a sec, cutey. What's your name?”

“Shiro.”

“And your nib’?”

“Angel. Mun.”

“Of course, the poor thing. Don't you worry, they'll find your sister soon enough.”

Shiro nodded and forced himself not to start tapping his foot.

A man in a nurse’s uniform walked up and the reception woman whispered something to him before saying, “Shiro, honey, this nice man is going to take you to your niece, okay?”

The boy gave her a big smile and replied, “Okay! T’ank you, miss!”

As soon as Shiro had been guided into an elevator and the nurse was distracted pressing the button, he dropped the act and rolled his eyes.

Why were adults so stupid? He was nine and nine months, not four!

Shiro followed the man through hallway after hallway until they reached a big glass window with a ton of baby beds on the other side.

“Wait right here, okay?” the nurse asked before ducking through a door. He returned a few seconds later with a woman holding a pink bundle.

The boy frowned when he spotted Angel’s head peaking out of it. “Why is the blanket pink?”

“It's to help us keep track of the babies’ genders,” the woman said, kneeling down next to him. “Boys get blue blankets and girls get pink.”

“Liva says we won't know what gender Angel is until they do, and that won't be until their older.”

The woman's nose scrunched up like she smelt something bad and Shiro wondered if Angel’s diaper needed to be changed.

The man laughed and Shiro gave him a confused look. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing, little man. Liva is very smart.”

“Smarter than her and the other people who work here, apparently,” Shiro said, gesturing to the woman, who really needed to change Angel’s diaper if her face was any indication. “You should give them a blue one. Or if it would be too confusing for you, red will work too. You should do it quickly though.”

“Oh, why's that?” the man asked, still chuckling.

“Romelle hates pink.”

“Romelle?”

“Our cat. She destroyed the pink blankets Sona’s mama got us. She doesn't like most other color's either, but she's okay about yellow and green sometimes. Blue and red are her favorites though, especially blue.”

“Well, your cat won't be allowed here so it won't matter,” the woman snapped.

“But Angel is Romelle’s baby! And Romelle is really sneaky. She's probably already here. She doesn't like leaving Angel alone.”

“Takashi!”

Shiro jumped and put on his most innocent expression as he turned to face his brother.

“I told you to stay in the waiting room.”

“You also said I could ask the lady if I wanted anything. And I wanted to see Angel.”

Akira set his hand on Shiro’s shoulder and gave the look that meant he'd be going without tv for awhile.

Red flicked her tail as she passed over the vaporized remains of the pod.

She was going to kill Liva if they ever crossed paths again.

The caracal had been worried when she'd woken up inside the closet with Kitten to the sounds of breaking glass and other such destruction, but hadn't wanted to risk leaving and exposing her cub. So she'd waited, curled up with him underneath the mound of blankets and ready to pounce the moment someone unfriendly opened the door.

She was shocked when the door was opened by a human policeman. She was moreso when she jumped out of the closet, startling the human, only to find that the two human’s scents were the only ones inside the apartment that she didn't recognize. Knowing the policemen were protectors, Red left Kitten in their hands so she could track down Liva.

Which led her to where she was now and the facts were easily put together. The pod had been self-destructed. There was evidence of the one-person stasis shuttle that had been in the back taking off. Only Liva’s, Kitten’s, and Red’s scents were in the cave. Liva’s scent was the one all over the apartment. Liva had trashed the apartment. Liva had left Earth.

Liva had left her cub and Red behind on Earth.

Red growled and swatted a loose rock away from her. She wasn’t really angry that Liva had left her. The pull that had attracted her to the Galra woman was gone. Had been for a little over a month. Had been since shortly before she had stepped into the pod and first laid eyes on Kitten, though she hadn’t realized at the time.

No, she was furious that the woman had abandoned her cub. Red had never had children, but she knew parents were meant to be protectors and that she understood.

You did not abandon the one you were most meant to protect.

The caracal growled again and stomped out of the cave. It seems she was right before. She would have to be the one to take care of Kitten.