#and she swore not a single labor was longer than an hour

[cinwritesbirth]

Turn on/Turn off: sudden, rapid labor and birth

The Turn Ons/Turn Offs Game:

Yessss. Don't get me wrong I love a good long, protracted labor, but the idea of it happening so quickly you don't even realize what's happening until you're too far gone to do anything but push? Magnificent.

[farfromtommy]

better than this (dad!chris evans)

summary: a little insight into life as a parent with chris throughout the years 

warnings: talk of preterm labor but nothing graphic or major

word count: 2,250

A/N: okay so like this idea came to me at 2 am and wrote it till about 5 in the morning and im crying at the softness. totally unedited and posted bc im so obsessed with it. i havent written in this kind of format before but i loved loved loved it. i was also thinking while writing this to do this but for steve rogers and i swear i lost my mind. if you guys are interested in something like that id love to write this but for steve <3 

masterlist 

add yourself to my taglist here! 

After meeting through some mutual friends you fell in love with each other. Chris swore he would have married you after your first date. A ring came about a year and a half later, Chris not wanting to call you anything but his wife for any longer. One dream wedding and a month-long honeymoon around the world, you were Mrs. Y/N Evans.

The conversation about kids came fairly early in the relationship. Him coming from a big family, he wanted the same for himself. He wanted a big house in the Massachusetts suburbs, the white picket fence, a couple of dogs, and the kids. He wanted to come home from work being attacked by a couple of kids and seeing you walking towards him barefoot and pregnant.

You were an only child to divorced parents, growing up mostly on your own. You never saw yourself as a mom, but always loved the idea of running after a couple of kids. Never wanting to bring a child into the kind of world you grew up in. The sad and lonely kind of world you endured most of your life. After meeting his family after a couple of months of dating and seeing the way he interacted with his nieces and nephews, you couldn’t help but hope to see yourself raising some kids with him.

He loved the idea of raising a family with you.

Grayson Christopher Evans

You brought your first child into the world not too long after your wedding.

You were in labor for about 16 hours before you were met with the screams of a baby boy.

Your baby boy.

He cried and cried until his skin met yours, calming him down almost instantly. Looking over at Chris who was at an absolute loss for words at the little person calming himself with the sound of your heartbeat. He looked at you for a while before looking back at his baby boy.

Chris couldn’t quite process the feelings he felt that night his son was born. He knew how much he loved you. You knew how much you loved him. But having this little person as a tangible expression of your love and commitment for each other was just beyond him. It was beyond anyone.

Grayson was just like his dad. Almost an exact copy of him if you were being honest. The same big blue eyes. The same soft brown hair. The same everything. Lisa often said how much Grayson was just like Chris was when he was a kid. There was little of you visible in him. Maybe he had the curve of your nose and the shape of your lips. But he was all Chris.

His little personality bubbling since day one. You couldn't have asked for a more perfect baby. He giggled as much as he could and played until he fell asleep with a toy in his hand. You were so lucky to have been gifted this little boy as your first baby. Chris had been struggling to balance work and his responsibility to you and Grayson but never failed to make sure you knew how loved you both were, even from thousands of miles apart.

Eleanor Olivia Evans

After another long labor, you welcomed a little girl into your new family of 4. A tiny little girl who, just like your boy once did, calmed themselves down at the sound of your heart and the warmth from your body. Chris once again sat there just absolutely beside himself at the sight of the love of his life with his little girl on your chest.

Introducing Eleanor, or Ellie, to Grayson was probably one of the greatest moments of your life. Chris walked in with Grayson in his arms telling him that we needed to use our indoor voices when talking to mommy and the baby. Grayson quickly climbed to sit right next to you, not bearing even 1 day away from you. You hugged your little boy and talked to him about meeting his sister. Grayson ran his little hands running along Eleanor’s cheeks as you sat there crying at the moment they were having with each other.

Now with a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old life couldn’t have been sweeter. You had hardly been working while pregnant with Ellie, still having to keep up with a rambunctious toddler. Before kids, you were doing some writing for all sorts of movies and TV shows. After kids, you took fewer jobs that require travel and stayed mostly local.

Chris not wanting to leave you at home with a toddler and a newborn had made sure his work kept him close or allowed you and the kids to go with him. You both wanted to make sure you were there when Grayson and Ellie needed you.

If Grayson was a mama’s boy, Ellie was 1000% a daddy’s girl. She refused to let Chris out of her sight if she could help it. She refused to sleep most nights without hearing the sound of her dad’s voice and would cry and cry if he didn’t sing her to sleep. When Chris was pulled away for a week for work you were losing your mind trying to get her to sleep.

After a mild breakdown, you gave in and called Chris knowing even hearing his voice over the phone would calm the baby down. He sat there on the phone and just talked to her. She fell asleep almost immediately and slept through most of the night. You thanked Chris and ended up asking him for voice recordings of him talking and singing so you could play them in case he was pulled away again.

Charlotte Rose Evans

Charlotte, or Charlie as she's been nicknamed by her siblings, came into the world with a crew waiting so patiently for her arrival. By far the most painful and complicated birth you have had, she had quite dramatically made her entrance into the Evans family.

You had been monitored closely the last couple of months of your pregnancy as Miss Charlie tried to make an appearance early. You had some complications about halfway through and your midwife had been worried about possible preterm labor. You had started to have what you knew were contractions at 30 weeks and were immediately rushed into the hospital to try and halt the contractions and luckily succeeding.

You were placed on strict bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy, not even allowed to stand at the stove making dinner, only getting up to use the bathroom and move from the bed to the couch.

It didn’t make your life with an overactive 4 and 2-year-old easy at all. Chris stayed home 24/7 to take care of you and his mom and sisters rotating taking the time to stay with you to help with the kids.

When Charlie did make her debut both of you were as healthy as you could be. Once again, bringing Chris to tears as another baby made their way into your family. He didn’t know he was capable of loving this much. He thought he had reached capacity after Ellie but the love he had for you and his kids just kept growing as you kept adding on.

If Grayson was all Chris, Charlie was all you. Except for her blue eye, which you figured would be a pattern with your kids. She was a copy of you and Chris ate it up. Eleanor is a perfect combination of the two of you. You could see the traits of you as well as the traits of Chris throughout her. But Charlie was completely you.

Grayson fit right into his role as big brother and protector of the Evans girls. He made sure every night he said goodnight to his sisters and told them he loved them with a kiss on their foreheads.

Ellie was excited that she no longer had to share her dolls with Grayson and would finally have a girl to play with. Charlie looked up to her big sister, seeing her as the most amazing person she has ever met.

Grayson, however, felt like he needed another sibling, specifically a boy sibling, and constantly asked you for a brother. He said to you over and over again that his friends at school had brothers and he needed one so very bad. You and Chris had agreed to stop at 3 but had given into the idea of having 1 more to try and even out the numbers. With Grayson in 2nd grade, Ellie in kindergarten, and Charlie starting Pre-K soon, having another wouldn’t be impossible.

Declan Robert Evans

The 2nd boy and the 4th and final child Chris and Y/N had brought into their world. Another perfect mix of Chris and Y/N.

His birth being the last time you would be in the hospital having a baby made it just that more emotional. You soaked in the first moments of his life just a little bit more. Chris cried just a couple more tears, seeing that angel on your chest for the first time. You admired the father of your children just a little more seeing him introduce the addition to the family to your other kids. Adoring the look on Grayson’s face when you set Declan on his lap, finally meeting the little brother he’d been wanting. Asking you if he could take him to class to show off to all his friends.

Walking around your house Declan’s first day home was more emotional than you had thought it would be. You brought every single one of your babies right through your front door. You had pictures littered around the house of moments in your life you were lucky to have immortalized forever. Knowing you had started your family here made you love everything just that much more.

Declan now 5 years old, Charlotte 8 years old, Eleanor 10 years old and Grayson at 12 years old you couldn’t imagine life any differently. You and Chris celebrated 13 years of marriage and almost 15 years together surrounded by the physical representations of the love you two shared for each other was unexplainable.

You had slowly started to get back into the work you loved doing so much after Declan started school. You were able to work on projects offered to you with Chris and had become an unstoppable duo professionally and personally.

Even having the amazing opportunities to do something you loved to do, nothing would ever beat sitting around a table listening to your kids talk about everything and anything that came to mind. Listening to them talk about what happened at school or about upcoming events they want to participate in was the highlight of your day.

Grayson had been playing with a football the moment he could pick one up. Chris nearly cried when Grayson had approached you guys about doing little league football at the rec center. Chris had been watching Patriot's games with Grayson since the day he was born. Taking him to games with Scott whenever they had the chance. The love for football ran in his blood and when he found out he could play on a team he took the chance as soon as it presented himself.

Eleanor had found a love for music and performing, just like her dad. She had picked up music and singing at a very young age, which probably came from her dad's love of performing. You encouraged her to pursue her love for music by telling her stories of when her daddy was young and used to stand on stage before he started doing big movies. She loved looking at pictures and watching old videos of Chris performing in high school whenever she'd visit Grandma Lisa.

Charlotte had picked up your love of reading and writing as soon as she could. Her favorite day of the week is when her class gets to spend time at the library finding new things to read and learn about. So far a running theme with her is books about nature and animals. She loves sitting down with you in the afternoon and telling you about what she learned in the science portion of her day. She had learned about how plants and animals interact and how important they are for all humans. She told you that when she's big she wants to make sure no one ever hurts plants and animals since they are so important for us.

Declan hadn't quite developed a love for something like his siblings had. All he cares about right now is the kind of snacks his mom packs for him and superheroes. You and Chris had introduced him to the world of superheroes recently, knowing that being in school someone was bound to mention to him about seeing his dad on a movie they watched. He was obsessed with the fact that his dad was a superhero once upon a time. He loved watching Chris' movies and would always ask to watch them whenever Chris wasn't home.

You looked at Chris from across the table as Grayson talked to him about football tryouts and asking him if they could practice after dinner. He felt your eyes on him and looked at you with a smirk and a wink thrown at you before giving Grayson his attention again.

You sat back a little to look around at this family surrounding you, knowing there was nothing better than this.

[chaoslordjoe]

Bloodlines AU - Tiny Warmths Part 1

The cane clacked against the Schnee Manor's front door. Winter was welcomed by Klein who always showed her to the living room, knowing she needed a rest from the trip back home for the newest addition to the home.

"Long flight, dear?" Willow asked by the staircase, sniffing her coffee.

"More like a long sail, mother. We were inspected for hours by sea/air traffic control." Winter grumbled, walking over to the sofa.

"Yes, I heard about it from the news reports. You'd think they would recognize our snowflake by now."

"I'm not sure I want to test that theory." Before she could sit down, she was welcomed by a hug from her blue-haired brother-in-law.

"Good to see you Winter." 

Winter returned the hug best she could. "You as well, Neptune. How's fatherhood?"

Neptune could only sigh. "Exhausting so far. He's almost five months and I feel like I'm still getting used to all this."

"Weiss certainly wasn't kidding about how anxious you've been." She was handed a spot of tea. "Thank you, Klein." Then she turned back to the spearman. "Is my sister adjusting any better?"

“Surprisingly. But Nicky's been dealing with colic pain, so patience is a virtue she’s been having better than me. She's taken to this so much easier than I have."

Winter sipped at her tea. "It can't be easy with both you and her running businesses."

Neptune sat taking a cup of tea. "It's not, but we've adjusted and tried to settle into a routine. Even when she's at her busiest she refuses to hire nannies and will rock or breastfeed him while on a business call."

Winter tented her fingers. "It's funny. I never really considered how that works until seeing the photos she sent me while I was overseas."

"Pretty much no choice if he’s cranky.” Neptune answered. “He won't take a bottle from Klein. That’s how much he’s already making up his own mind.”

Klein aided Willow on her way to the recliner. "I believe the important part is that I'm trying, sir."

Neptune smiled at the butler. "You are. And we are so thankful for your help, Klein."

Willow sat back down. "He's less fussy when we get him on diaper duty. But clearly..." She grunted, sitting slowly onto the chair. "Clearly he's more in favor of his mom and dad right now."

"How are your back pains, mother?" Winter asked.

"Little stiff today.” Willow answered. “I'm only having one coffee cup for Nicky's sake, due to all the hustle and bustle of preparing for a visit before you arrived."

"Weiss is changing him right now." Neptune pointed out.

Winter exhaled. "Right. Meeting the nephew...How should I present myself?"

"Just be yourself." Neptune said plainly.

"You mean the military woman shtick minus the sternness." She asked.

“That sounds about right.” Weiss Schnee answered right behind her big sister.

Winter turned her head, seeing a joyful Weiss having just gotten off of work for the day with a bundle in her arms. Inside the blue blanket was Dominick Karl Schnee, cocooned and eyeing his mother fondly. Weiss bounced him in the blanket turning him around to face a new relative.

“Dominick, can you say ‘hi’ to your auntie?” His mom requested.

The future heir revealed his little face to Winter.

He weighed in at 8 pounds and 3 ounces in a handsome little bundle of his father’s bronzed skin, light blue eyes included. His mother’s alabaster hair was spiky but neatly groomed in time for being the up and coming prince of his family’s corporation. The baby stared through Winter, moving his tiny arm out and grabbing the edge of his snuggie.

The Specialist took the plunge by reaching out her hand with an adjustment from her cane to let him hold her bigger hand. “Um…Hello, Dominick. I’m your Aunt Winter.” She greeted after a heavy pause.

The baby reached out by placing both hands around Winter’s trigger finger.

She flinched from the sudden grapple. “Is this his way of reading people?”

“I think he’s trying to figure out who you are.” Neptune observed.

Weiss gave a big smile. “Would you like to hold him? You’ll be fine, just be sure to support his head.”

Winter reached out, gently taking her nephew and still appearing uncertain. Unfortunately the toddler disagreed. Who was this mysterious lady who looked almost nothing like mommy? 

Her grasp felt unwelcoming with baby Nick kicking up a fuss. Winter cringed looking up to her sister in a panic.

“Shh-shh-shh, it’s okay honey. Mommy’s here.” Weiss cooed. “Try rocking him a bit.”

She rocked him back and forth. Except this wasn’t the left-and-right direction. This was back and forth, on the couch where things had been static. The boy whimpered from the incorrect rocking, shielding his eyes and curling up.

Weiss frowned. “I'm sorry Winter, he's just not used to you yet" She took back her son, bouncing him again to soothe his cries.

Winter frowned next. “I would know having raised you.” She wanted to comment.

Dominick was suddenly calm being set back down on the couch by Weiss. He curiously eyed the living room around him when Weiss stood up stretching across from her kin. “I’m guessing you were hoping to ask how Neptune is adjusting, sister.”

“The thought crossed my mind back on the tarmac.” Winter replied with a nod.

Neptune could only sag his shoulders. "I'd like to say that I am but then I’d be fooling myself. Last night, Weiss was in a board meeting and I swore I could get Nicky to bed. I don't know what I did wrong but he screamed his head off for almost fifteen minutes until she came to bail me out."

“It was...Troubling.” Klein recalled while he handed his infant master a rattle and chewing ring.

Weiss nodded next. “Took me a little bit to calm him down, taking even longer to bring Neptune back into his usual bouncy self.” She squeezed her husband’s shoulder when he sank further at that recollection.

“I thought he didn’t like me. But can you blame me?” Neptune defended himself. “He always stops crying for you.” He groused.

“He just needs to take some time in getting to know you, dear.” Willow coaxed. “Klein could tell you a thing or two about that.”

The butler folded his arms with a sigh. “I take no joy in being the bearer of bad memories here. But mum is right, seeing as how...He was away at work,” Klein hissed, holding back his grumpy persona. “It took our snowdrops plenty of time to adjust to myself. Until one day they started speaking hand gestures asking where she was.”

“And how does that help Neptune?” Winter asked.

“I am saying is that there must be a moment for you and young Master Dominick to connect, just the two of you. Seems I got lost in translation there, sir.” Klein admitted to the blue-hair.

“Yeah, fair enough.” Nep conceded. “It's hard to settle a baby when there's so much commotion around the manor. And he's so attached to Weiss, that I thought we'd have that instant connection. He's my son but I guess it's just as hard on him as it is on me."

During his rant, Neptune saw Dominick following his dad’s words with a quizzical head tilt. “You like me, right little fella?” He wiggled his tan finger for him to see.

The baby took a moment to look upon his rattle. Then to the ring in his mouth. Take daddy’s hand, his 5-month-old instincts told him. Nick set the rattle down and grabbed Neptune’s finger with both hands, then babbled in an interested tone.

The intellectual laughed. “Yeah I’m your daddy. Can you say ‘daddy’?”

He cooed in D-sounds, but moving onto B-noises as he wasn’t opposed to learning new noises.

Weiss folded her arms proudly. “See? He’s learning.”

Neptune picked the baby up, flashing a goofy grin and holding him proudly. “My boy!”

Nicky squealed happily and joined him in a laugh whilst reaching for his rattle. Nep bent over, handing the rattle to him and holding him to his chest during one of his evening bounces.

Winter gave the slightest hint of a smile at the bonding moment in front of her while going back to her sister. “Among the other things I’m learning to catch up on, the delivery must have given you hell.” She said.

Weiss held onto her own stomach underneath the lovely sweater.

“It was...An experience. A scary one, to be sure. But Neptune ensured I stayed in bed while I was recovering. Minus a few stitches, I’m as defiant as ever. Hopefully.” She blinked slowly while watching her son and hubby in the background.

“How bad was it?” Winter asked while snapping a picture of her nephew’s playtime.

“Klein said I was working too hard” She woefully began. “That’s what brought on the labor. However, Yang was kicking in the door and kept me calm just in time. When the contractions started, I was already aboard Yang’s Manta craft while Ruby and Neptune held onto me during our flight to the hospital.”

Winter patted her sister upon the back.

“Neptune was so panicked, and it took so long that I was wheeled in for an emergency C-section.”

“Did they go through with it?” Winter’s expression turned to that of fear. Hadn’t her sister been stabbed and nearly cut open enough times during the Salem war?

“No. But the labor was quite long.” Weiss finally answered. “While Neptune was panicking outside it was the sisters who were keeping me steady. Before they could break out the knife, Dominick was- -Ahem…” She rubbed her eyes with an itchy throat. “Apologies...Dominick was born safe and sound. So we agreed we were having only one.” Weiss sniffled.

Don’t get her wrong, it was a happy memory. But the pain was more than enough to warrant a single offspring and heir being held in her husband’s arms. Winter dried her bottom eyelid on sisterly muscle memory.

“I’m glad that he’s here.” Winter added. “Thankfully, you’re not feeling the way Blake is right now in her pregnancy.” She mentioned.

“Oh, what have you heard from her?” Weiss lightened up at hearing about her cat teammate.

Winter folded her arms. “Only that she’s feeling stir-crazy. Moving around is quite difficult for her right now. relying on Nora and Ren for their recipes in case of any strange appetites...Though Ruby has contributed some odd ideas."

“That makes Sun at her beck and call.” Weiss guessed.

“Yes, quite.” Winter answered. “You probably don’t want to know what cravings Ruby conjured up for her.”

“Somehow I’m not sure that’d help with Nicky’s colic deal.” Weiss mused, grinning at hearing a joyful squeal behind her with her husband’s starry-eyed reaction. “Oh, mother. You haven’t held him yet.” She offered.

“I bet he’s been looking forward to spending some quality time with his oma.” Willow beamed. She held out her aging arms to her son-in-law. Neptune handed baby Dominick over with the rattle included.

Willow took the rattle and handed it to her grandson, rocking him back and forth with the proudest smile she could bear at 57 years with how he’s already turning out.

“Are you happy to see your Auntie Winter yet, my Little Yeti?” She teased.

Nick cooed after a prompt nose boop from the matriarch.

“Little Yeti?” Winter questioned.

“It’s cute, but I prefer to call him Snowdrop or Nicky.” Weiss admitted, shrugging.

“Yeah, you’re gonna grow up into a big monster and give mommy and daddy the runaround huh?” Neptune baby talked to the...Well, baby.

“Please don’t jinx it, Neptune.” Weiss insisted.

The infant could only blink at his remark.

“He was awfully big for his age when he came into the world.” Willow answered, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “But it just proves his strength and how he didn’t mean to give his Muti such a hard time. No you didn’t!” She teased the little one next, giving him a raspberry earning another laugh.

Weiss gave a dreamy sigh. “Oh, don’t you worry just yet my little snow monster. We’ve got a lot more to figure out.” She earned a babble of agreement out of her son.

Winter got up. “And hopefully he...Mmgh.” Another grunt, she steadied herself with grasping the cane. “He won’t run too much when I’m on babysitting detail. I’ll be in my office.”

Her sister got up, taking her arm. “Here. Let me help.”

“I’m okay, Weiss. Really.” The specialist insisted with her cane wobbling at her sister’s touch.

“No you’re not.” She backtalked. But not before supporting her. “Is your leg acting up again?”

“...Yes. My painkiller prescription has been delayed ever since President Baum had cut back on Specialist healthcare in light of the frontline grunts. Not that I blame them.” Well, that hurt to mention the G.I.'s of Atlas in light of her own health problems sustained in the line of duty.

“Then you should be in bed.” Weiss demanded. Not as CEO, but as her sibling.

Winter nodded. “Good idea. Klein, could you please get my laptop?”

“Certainly, Winter.” The butler answered. “You do look like you need a leg pillow as well.”

“It wouldn’t hurt.” Winter answered with a small smile. “Mother, Neptune, will you be alright with Dominick?”

“Of course, dear.” The older mom told her.

“Yeah, we got him.” Neptune answered with another warm nod.

-------

A/N: Unfortunately, due to Tumblr having a frigging character limit, this must be posted in two parts. Until then, hope you enjoy the first part of this segment.

[smarchit]

Poetry for an Heiress, chapter 10

Word count: 3k

Summary: When a duchess and her children are abandoned far from home, they must rely on the kindness of one stranger to guide them home.

Warnings: None

Notes: This is the final chapter of Poetry, originally intended to be an epilogue. To those who have stuck to this story since the beginning, thank you. I am so appreciative of the support this story has gotten. I'm sorry I made you guys wait a month for this last chapter, but I promise I have smut coming soon to make up for it. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~

The leaves on the trees had just started to turn when you and Ezra were married. It turned out to be the last nice day of the year, with a clear blue sky and the last embrace of a warm breeze that blew through the garden.

Your mother and grandmother had wanted a spring wedding for you, as was traditional, but both you and Ezra decided on early autumn. It felt better for you two, closer, more personal.

The day of your wedding was perfect, not one single thing went wrong. It was as if Kevva themselves were smiling down upon you. 

Your children were so excited to find that they were going to be in your wedding. They could barely contain their excitement throughout the summer. Even the little trip you all took back to Muir for a few weeks to help Ezra pack his belongings and auction the farm couldn't distract them long enough from asking a million questions about the wedding. The only thing that seemed to pull them away long enough for you and Ezra to get a moment to yourselves was the promise of bringing the barn cat, Charlotte, and her six kittens back to the palace when you left. They wouldn't have to hunt for their food or sleep in the shed any longer, and the children were delighted at your allowing the cats to sleep with them.

The morning of the wedding, you woke to Marie crawling into bed with you and snuggling under your arm. 

"Mama," she whispered, "Are you awake?"

You chuckled and looked over at her, her curls messy and falling out of the braids she slept in. 

"Yes, my little bug, I am awake," you replied, brushing your knuckle along her cheek.

"I'm too excited to sleep, mama," she said, cuddling up to your chest.

"There's still time to sleep for a bit," you told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's going to be a busy day. Try to close your eyes."

"I know," she said with a yawn. "Grandmother said there was going to be sweets and dancing!"

"And we don't want to miss out on that, do we?" you teased, giving her a gentle shake. 

She shook her head. "Never! Though Mr. Ezra said he would save me extra sweets if I fell asleep."

You chuckled and gave her a hug. "You won't need to call him that anymore if you don't want to. You'll be able to just call him Ezra after today."

Marie grew quiet and you looked down, wondering if she fell back asleep in your arms. Instead, she peered up at you with wide eyes.

"Can I call him papa?" she asked softly.

You brushed some of her hair away from her eyes and smiled in response. "You can if you want, little bug. That is a question for him to answer, yes? Ask him tonight if he would be alright with that."

Marie's smile grew impossibly wider and she squeezed her little arms tighter around you. "Okay, mama!"

"Now get some rest, bug," you urged her. "I'll wake you when it's time to get ready."

A few hours later, you stood in front of the large doors of the ballroom, dressed in a pale pink and blue gown, hair swept off your neck in a delicate updo. You took a deep breath as the doors opened and you walked out into the garden, the familiar path lit by several colorful blown glass luminaries, winding through the stone walkway, leading you towards Ezra.

His hand was already outstretched as you approached and he smiled broadly when you stepped onto the altar to join him at his side. 

"You look beautiful," he whispered as he turned towards you. His eyes crinkled at the corners and you swore you saw tears in his eyes as he looked at you. "I am truly a lucky man, Princess."

Together, you turned to face the officiant as she read the ceremony to you both and to the small crowd behind you in the garden. She bowed low in front of you and Ezra before throwing the marriage veil over the two of you.

Ezra chuckled once the translucent shroud was draped over your heads, partially obscuring you both from the others. "Hi," he beamed, your hands still clasped in his between the two of you.

"Hi," you replied breathlessly, gazing up at Ezra. After a moment of silence,, you giggled and looked down at your joined hands. "We need to read the vows."

"Right, right," he said with a small nod. He cleared his throat and looked down at you. You both sucked in a breath and in unison, spoke your vows.

"I promise to stay by your side, through hardship and pleasure alike, to protect and praise you always, and keep the flames lit. To love the life we have, and the life we may create together now and forever more. For our lasting legacy, until the end of time."

As the final word was spoken, the officiant lifted the veil from your heads, revealing you both as one to the waiting crowd. 

Ezra cupped your face in his hand and kissed you deeply, not caring one bit that your family was watching. He knew he loved you from the moment he saw you in the cantina, scared and shaken, trying to feed your children. He wanted to be with you, even if you didn't care for him the same way he did for you. 

You threw your arms around him and returned his kiss with as much enthusiasm as he kissed you. You had never been more sure of anything in your whole life. This was what you had been waiting for. From the night you had been told of Rion's death, you had been waiting. Nothing had ever felt more right to you than in this moment. 

Music started up around you as the party began. Your children ran towards you, wanting to be a part of the festivities as well. Marie bounced on her heels and tugged on Ezra's sweater.

"Mr. Ezra," she said softly, looking almost shy. "I have something to ask you."

"Of course, birdie," he replied, bowing at the waist to talk to her. "How about you go and get us some cake and a drink? You can ask me anything you want." He brushed her cheek with his thumb and offered her a smile.

She grinned and jumped up and down before running off towards one of the many tables laden with treats. 

"Should I be worried?" Ezra asked as he watched her grab a massive piece of pink cake and duck through the crowd towards a high top table.

You chuckled and put your hands on Ezra's arm. "No more than usual, my love."

"I doubt there's anything that could ruin this day regardless," he hummed as he kissed you again.

"Mama!" Aiden cried as he shut his eyes. "Gross!"

"Mr. Ezra," Henry said, "My bow tie came undone, will you help me?"

Ezra chuckled and pulled away from your embrace. "While I can't tie much of anything these days, what I am able to do is show you how to do it yourself. Come on."

You smiled and ruffled Aiden's hair as Ezra led Henry towards the tent where the light was better. "Mama, you're not gonna do a bunch of that kissing stuff now, are you?"

"As much as possible," you teased. Aiden made a sour face and took off running towards the party. You shook your head and bounded after him, lightly threatening him with a dance should you catch him.

***

It was a few months after your wedding that you began to feel nauseous and lightheaded during your afternoon strolls through the garden with Ezra and the children. You chalked it up to the little bug that Henry and Aiden had come down with, but after it hung around for a week or so, Ezra insisted you talk to the doctor in the physician's wing. You had an idea as to the cause of your mysterious illness, but didn't voice your suspicions to your husband just yet.  

After a quick test, the physician confirmed what you had been thinking. You were pregnant. By his calculations, you were about two months along, maybe nine weeks or so. Still far too early to feel anything, but it didn't matter to you. You loved your child so much already and couldn't wait to tell Ezra and the children. With the children, you figured that you could wait to tell them for a while longer, just in case something were to happen, but Ezra would want to know immediately.

You found Ezra reading in the bedroom, sitting in bed with a book in his lap. He looked up and grinned when he saw you enter.

"That was a quick visit," he said, holding his arm out, beckoning you to join him.

You crawled onto the bed and smiled as you cuddled up to him. "Put the book down. I have some good news to share with you, my love."

Ezra slipped the bookmark between the pages and slid the book onto the bedside table. He rearranged himself on the bed beside you and turned to face you expectantly.

You took his hand and rested it against your belly, looking at him hopefully, excitement bubbling inside you, ready to burst. "I'm pregnant, Ez," you whispered. You bit your lip, nervously awaiting his reaction. It didn't occur to you that he might be anything but elated, or that perhaps you should have told him in a different way.

Ezra blinked a few times, processing what you had just told him. It was one of the few times you'd left him completely speechless. He barked out an excited laugh and surged forward to kiss you. "Pregnant! Princess, are you telling me I--- we are going to have a baby!"

You nodded and laughed as he kissed your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead, any spare inch of your skin that he could reach. "Yes, yes! The doctor confirmed it, but no one else knows. We mustn't tell anyone just yet!"

"Of course," he said quickly, "I can't hardly believe it!" He kissed you again and rolled over, dragging you on top of him. "Another bird to add to our flock, Princess! Imagine!"

***

Your daughter made her entrance into the world one late summer night, red and wailing and perfect, only a few hours after you went into labor while on a walk with Ezra and the children in the garden. The physician had warned you months ago that it was normal if your labor was so short, given that it was your fourth child, after all.

Ezra was by your side the entire time, encouraging you and coaching your breathing as you sat in between his legs. He let you squeeze his hand during contractions, right up until the midwife kicked him out when they were mere minutes apart. 

It wasn't long at all after the nurses shoved Ezra into the hallway that they opened the door again to proclaim the good news. A healthy baby girl.

As Ezra was let back in the room, he brought his hand to his mouth when he spotted you holding your child to your breast. He sat down beside you in the bed and stared at you both in awe. 

Your daughter turned in your arms, her bright eyes blinking sleepily in the dim light from the fireplace beside your bed. Her eyes were yours no doubt about that, but she had Ezra's beautiful, perfect mouth. Perhaps one day she would have his silver tongue to match.

Most notably, and what had first taken your own breath away, was the shock of dark hair that lay against her head. However, on her hairline was a downy tuft of fine white hairs, exactly like her father's. It had brought you to tears when you first spotted it as the midwife lifted her from between your legs. 

"She's perfect, Princess," he whispered, putting his arm over your shoulder. He rested his head against your temple and stared down at the tiny baby asleep in your arms. "What should we name her?"

"Eudora," you whispered after a moment of silence, glancing up at him, waiting for his reaction. 

Ezra was quiet, and for a second, you worried you had upset him. But he slowly moved his arm from around your shoulders to grip the baby's tiny hand in two of his fingers.

"Eudora," he said quietly, his voice breaking slightly. "That is a fine name, isn't it?"

"I never stopped thinking about what you'd told me the day you pulled me out of the water," you murmured, kissing the top of your daughter's head. "About your sister."

"Poor thing," he said softly. "I wish I'd gotten to meet her."

"I wanted to honor her," you said. "And your mother, if you'd like. For a middle name?"

"My mother," Ezra replied, brushing his thumb over the back of Eudora's tiny hand. "My mother's name was Rachel."

"Eudora Rachel," you said softly as you pressed your lips to her forehead. "Welcome to the world, my sweet girl."

Ezra wiped the tears from his eyes as he watched the two of you. He hadn't stopped grinning since the midwife came out and announced her birth. He couldn't believe that this tiny bundle sleeping in your arms was a part of him. It felt as though it could all disappear if he blinked. He feared he would wake up, back on the Green, that perhaps this was a dream brought on by the toxic dust that had seeped into his blood. But it was real. 

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked, nudging him with your shoulder. You smiled at his awestruck expression as he regarded your question, nodding slowly when you passed her over to him.

"Hello, little birdie," he said softly, shifting himself onto the bed so he could rest her carefully in the crook of his arm. "Hi, sweet girl. I-- I'm your dad. Happy birthday, angel."

You leaned against Ezra's shoulder and yawned, exhausted from bringing your daughter into the world. You let Ezra's gentle voice be a lullaby as you drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow, your children and your mother and grandmother would meet Eudora. Her birth would finally be announced to the world, introducing her as the newest princess. But for now, it was just the three of you, your husband by your side, your daughter sleeping in a bassinet by the fire. And it was absolutely perfect.

The next morning, you woke with Eudora's short, wailing cries for milk, which you provided happily. You were already untying the laces on your nightgown to bare your breast to her as you moved to her little crib to carry her back to bed.

Ezra had awoken with you, or perhaps maybe he had not slept at all. He watched you feed her and then change her with rapt attention, afraid to miss even a moment of his daughter's first hours of life. 

It was still very early in the morning, the moon had not yet gone down, the sun still far from reaching the horizon. It had only been a few hours since you had fallen asleep, the clock on the mantel let you know as much. But both you and Ezra stayed awake after that until the sun rose, leaning against one another as you watched your daughter sleep soundly between your bodies.

"She's perfect," he whispered, leaning over to kiss you. "She is such a tiny little thing, I'm afraid I would crush her."

"It always feels that way," you murmured. "But you won't."

"I can't stop looking at her," he said. "She has only just seen her first sunrise and I would already shoot a man dead for even looking at her."

"That feeling will never go away either," you chuckled, glancing back down at Eudora. You trailed your fingers over the fine white patch in her hair and smiled at the thought that she would carry her father with her always.

Ezra ran his fingers over the back of your hand and leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"And you, Princess, how do you feel?" he asked, settling back to look at you.

"Wonderful," you replied, with a small smile. You heard the rapid pounding of feet in the hallway outside as your children raced to meet their new baby sister. Your mother opened the door and the children poured inside, already squealing with delight.

Ezra gently scooped Eudora into his arm so the children could get a closer, careful look at her. 

You looked at the five of them and smiled fondly at the new life you now had. It felt like a dream, perfect in every way imaginable. 

After a moment, Ezra set the baby down in her bassinet and rejoined you on the bed to watch the children as they peered into her little cradle. 

"Remember that night in the garden on Muir?" he asked, lacing his fingers in yours. "When I promised you I would always be there to read you poetry?"

You smiled and leaned against him. "I believe the phrasing was something about whispering poetry between my thighs," you said, your voice hushed.

Ezra chuckled and nodded. "That was indeed the phrase, yes. And I will keep that promise until the end of my days, Princess. I will write poems for you, for the children. For this little one." He looked over at the bassinet and smiled widely before turning to you again and kissing you sweetly. "All my love, Princess. And in a hundred years, they can tell stories of us, be inspired by us, and by our poetry."

~~~~~~

TAGLIST:

@the-feckless-wonder @gallowsjoker @phoenixhalliwell @waatermelon-sugaar @huliabitch @miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @auandromedus

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Place to Belong Chapter 29: Caitlin

Content warning: this chapter contains detailed descriptions of infant death.

Chapter 28

Read on AO3

December 3, 1749

Considering this was Jenny’s fifth pregnancy, the labor took considerably longer than Claire thought it would. Michael and Janet had taken a bit longer than expected, but they were twins, so that was understandable. Claire had been certain that any more children after those two would have been out in under an hour. 

So when the labor lasted well into the next day, Jenny was biting her tongue from slurring through every curse in the English and Gaelic languages.

“Ye swore, Claire, ye swore to me this one would be quick!”

“I know, Jenny, I’m sorry…sometimes it’s unpredictable even when someone has had as many as you have.” Claire dabbed at her forehead again.

“Ye’re sure the bairn is in the right position? That’s no’ the problem?”

“The baby isna breech, Mistress Murray,” the midwife assured. “Everything is perfectly normal. No blood, either. He’s just taking his time, is all.”

Jenny collapsed onto the pillows with a frustrated grunt. “If I knew it wasna going to get any easier I’d never have let Ian touch me again!”

“Now, now,” Claire chuckled. “You don’t mean that.”

“I think I know what I mean, Claire,” Jenny snapped.

Claire bit her tongue to keep from laughing again. “I’m sorry, you’re right. You’re the one in labor, not me.”

“That’s fer damned sure!” Jenny’s angry shouting dissolved into an anguished cry, and she blindly reached for Claire’s hand. “It’s coming! Now!”

They quickly moved her to the hay in front of the fireplace and positioned her properly.

All the rest happened much too quickly.

“He’s almost here, Mistress! Keep going!”

“Fine, Mistress Murray. One more push should do it!”

“Oh, thank Christ…”

Sure enough, a few minutes, much screaming, and one big push later, the baby was out.

“It’s a bonny wee lassie!” the midwife said.

“There, it’s over,” Claire said, wiping down her face again.

But something was not right.

The midwife cut the cord and whisked her away to be cleaned as Claire helped Jenny deliver the afterbirth. But aside from Jenny’s panting, there was not a sound to be heard. Claire went to the nightstand to get Jenny a glass of water, but by the time she returned, Jenny was already sitting straight up.

“She’s no’ crying…” Jenny pushed the glass away. “Why is she no’ crying?”

Claire rushed to the midwife’s side to check her breathing and pulse as she was wiped down. At first, Claire wasn't at all certain that she was alive; she had to feel around multiple different places to find her pulse. And she was so, impossibly small for a baby only a few weeks early. Claire’s heart sank when she finally found a pulse.

“Claire? What’s wrong?”

Her pulse was far slower than it should have been. And then she heard it: the slow, raspy breathing. The midwife paused her ministrations, seemingly realizing at the same time Claire did. She gave Claire a sad, knowing look.

This baby was not going to live very long.

“She’s breathing, Jenny…” Claire said, biting her lip. “But she…she’s weak.”

“She needs milk,” Jenny said curtly. “Give her to me.”

As the midwife finished up with the baby and swaddled her, Claire helped Jenny off the floor and back into the bed. By the time the midwife brought over the little bundle, Jenny had already untied her shift and freed one of her breasts. Jenny sighed with relief as the baby nestled in her arms, and the midwife shuffled about the room, cleaning up.

“Hello, wean,” Jenny whispered. “Come on, now, ye’ll be stronger when ye eat.”

Jenny held the baby to her breast, but she didn’t move. Claire watched helplessly, her vision blurring with tears.

“It’s alright, mo chridhe,” Jenny crooned, stroking her cheek with one finger. She began coaxing her in Gaelic, holding onto her breast, pushing the nipple right up against the baby’s lips, but she would not latch on.

After several seconds, Jenny’s calm melted away, and her head whipped up to look at Claire. “She willna eat. Why will she no’ eat?”

Claire wet her lips and swallowed thickly, wracking her brain for the right thing to say…

“Do something!” Jenny shouted, causing Claire to jump and a single tear to roll down her cheek.

“Take her! Help her!” Jenny held the little baby up, reaching for Claire.

Claire stepped slowly forward. She placed a hand on the baby’s chest, gently pushing her back down into Jenny’s cradling arms. “I…can’t, Jenny.”

Jenny’s frantic expression melted into horror, and she jerkily shook her head. “Ye…ye have to help her, Claire…ye have to…”

Claire put a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “There’s nothing I can do. She’s just…too weak.”

Jenny looked down at the baby, and Claire watched as tears dropped from Jenny’s eyes and onto the little bundle.

“I’ll get Ian.”

“No.” Her head snapped up again. “I dinna want him to see her like this…it’ll break his heart…”

“He deserves to meet his daughter, Jenny,” Claire said gently. “And you need each other right now.”

Jenny’s mouth opened and closed as if to say something else, but instead her eyes fell back on the baby. She nodded wordlessly.

Claire breathed deeply, steeling herself before opening the door. After she shut it behind her, everything seemed to catch up with her, and she had to bite her lip to stifle the audible sob that bubbled up from her chest. She covered her mouth, and tears fell freely over the back of her hand. After a few seconds, she took another breath, wiped her eyes, and put on as neutral an expression as she could muster. As if in a daze, she made her way down the stairs and out the back door, praying not to run into any of the children.

She found Ian near the stables, pitching hay. He noticed her immediately, and his face lit up.

“Has the bairn arrived?” he called, setting the pitchfork against the wagon and walking to meet her where she stood.

“Yes,” Claire said flatly. “It’s a girl.”

“Another wee lass,” he said with a hearty laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. He finally got close enough to see the expression on Claire’s face, and his smile disappeared. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s…she’s very weak.”

“What do ye mean?”

“She won’t live very long,” Claire said, taking all of the strength within her to not completely shatter. “I’m…I’m so sorry, Ian.”

Panic suddenly etched itself into every one of his features. “Jenny?”

“She’s alright,” Claire said quickly. “She just…needs her husband now.”

His eyes averted her gaze, and he nodded. “I’ll, uh…go to her, then.”

Claire nodded silently, staring at the dirt between her feet as Ian disappeared into the house.

“Maman?”

Fergus suddenly appeared from within the stable, pitchfork in hand. Claire slowly picked up her head to look at him. Fergus immediately set down the pitchfork and rushed to her side.

“The baby?” he asked gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Auntie Jenny?”

“Jenny is fine,” Claire assured him. She wet her lips again. “The baby is…she’s not going to make it.”

Without another word, Fergus pulled her into a strong embrace, and it was enough to make her fall apart. She could not allow herself to really cry in front of Jenny or Ian; it was their loss, not hers. She had to be strong for them. But to deliver four of their six children and lose one, to know so intimately the cacophony of little voices crying Auntie! and to know that there was one voice she’d never hear…it broke her heart.

And that pain…that pain that Jenny was feeling was all too familiar to her. It was a pain she would not wish on her worst enemy. To know that Jenny, her sister, her dearest friend, her very own pillar of strength had to endure the worst pain Claire had ever known shook her to her core.

She wept into Fergus’s shoulder, clinging to him for dear life. Somewhere through her veil of grief, she realized she couldn’t tuck his head under her chin anymore, that her face was buried into his shoulder instead of the other way around. When on earth had he gotten so tall…?

She lost track of how much time had passed; she didn’t realize when they’d started rocking back and forth. Claire finally came to her senses, swallowing the remainder of her tears. She pulled away from him so that she could look into his eyes, and she ran a hand through his curls.

“You are thinking of her, no?” Fergus said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of Faith?”

Claire nodded, biting her lip as more tears threatened to resurface. “It’s a pain that…that never leaves you. Never.”

“Auntie Jenny is strong,” Fergus assured her.

“I know she is.” Claire nodded.

“It will be alright, Maman. We will grieve, but we will heal. Yes?”

Claire nodded, her vision blurring again. “I know, darling.” She caressed his face, painfully aware of the lack of boyishness in his features. “I love you, mon fils.”

“I love you, too.”

He hugged her again, briefly, and Claire’s heart suddenly leapt into her throat.

“Where is Brianna?”

“She is around front with the dogs. Mrs. Crook has been minding her and Kitty.”

Claire nodded. “I need to see her, to…to hold her right now.”

“I understand.”

Claire made her way around the house to the front yard, and she had to stop for a moment to collect herself when she caught sight of them. Brianna and Kitty were bundled head to toe to protect them from the December chill. They were positively squealing their heads off chasing after Jehu, the newest addition to the Murray clan of dogs. The first rat terrier, Luke, had passed away a few months ago, and the children were having a ball with Jehu’s never-ending puppy energy. Mrs. Crook was hanging laundry, and Maggie was sitting on the porch with Bran. Even in his youth, Bran had never been much for rambunctious play, but especially now, he was more than content to sit idle as Maggie pet him in long, gentle strokes.

The sound of her daughter’s laughter, accompanied by the laughter of her very best friend, her cousin, Claire’s little niece, was overwhelming. Claire steeled herself before walking closer, and Jehu immediately took note, sprinting toward her. The girls squealed again and darted after him. Claire smiled despite herself, stooping to pick up the little mongrel yapping at her feet.

“Ye caught him, Auntie!” Kitty giggled.

Claire handed him to her, and she shrieked in amusement as he lapped at her entire face.

“Take him to Maggie, would you Kitty?”

She nodded and began bounding back toward the porch, and Brianna started to follow.

“Brianna,” Claire called. “Stay here, please.”

Brianna whirled around. “In trouble, Mummy?”

“No, darling,” Claire assured her. She knelt in the grass and opened her arms. “Come here.”

Brianna obeyed, approaching her mother and allowing her to take her in her arms. Claire let out the breath she’d been holding, sighing shakily in relief. She held her daughter tightly, cradling her head into her chest, kissing the top of her head, breathing her in.

“Mummy sad?”

“Mummy just needed to hold you, sweetheart.” Claire stroked her hair. “Do you know that I love you? So very much?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“I do. I love you so much, Brianna.” She cursed herself when her voice broke, and she held her tighter.

“Love you too, Mummy.”

Claire felt pangs of guilt radiate through her chest, knowing full well that as she sat here, cradling her living, breathing daughter, Jenny and Ian were clinging to a baby girl that was withering away in their arms. She was reminded of the horrible jealousy she’d felt when she and Jamie had arrived at Lallybroch right after losing Faith to see baby Katherine, healthy and beautiful. She was reminded of the intense pain of watching Jamie cradle that little baby, her throat burning, her mind screaming that it should have been their baby.

How wicked of her was it to be jealous back then? She had never said it out loud, not even to Jamie, but she’d been downright resentful of Jenny back then. She’d been able to bring three healthy, beautiful children into the world. Claire had tried for years, and when the Lord had finally seen fit to bless her with a child, her body had killed her. True, Maggie’s birth had been dangerous, but she still lived and breathed. No one could save Faith.

Even through that jealousy, that misplaced resentment, Claire would never wish any harm on those beautiful children, or any Murray children that came thereafter. Knowing that their newest daughter lay dying in her mother’s arms was enough to rip Claire’s heart out of her chest. Death and tragedy do not know faces or names; no one is spared, no one is safe. For Claire to have assumed all those years ago that her womb was cursed and Jenny’s was blessed had been grossly unfair. Those feelings had gradually faded away as her grief and anger gradually lessened, and she’d honestly forgotten about them. Until now. And now the guilt of ever allowing herself to think that way was making her stomach turn.

“Mistress.”

Claire almost jumped out of her skin. She looked up to see Mrs. Donnelly standing before them.

“I’ve been sent to fetch ye by Master Murray.”

Claire quickly wiped her eyes before releasing Brianna. “Go back to Kitty, love. And mind Mrs. Crook.”

Brianna nodded, and Claire stood up, watching as Brianna bounded back toward the front of the house.

“The Priest is here to Baptize the bairn before the Lord takes her,” Mrs. Donnelly said. “They want ye there.”

Claire nodded wordlessly and made her way toward the house, hearing and yet not being able to process Kitty and Maggie calling out to her as she stepped over Bran on the porch. She ascended the steps again, her feet feeling heavy as lead. She made her way to the Laird’s room and gently knocked on the door. It was Ian who answered, and Claire almost broke down and cried again at the sight of the heartbreak on his face.

“Come in, Claire.”

Claire entered the room, and Ian shut the door behind her. She locked eyes with Jenny, and she had to bite her tongue.

Strong, Beauchamp.

Father Gregor was standing over Jenny, his hand hovering over the baby in her arms, chanting in Latin, his eyes closed. He finished that particular prayer and opened his eyes upon hearing Claire’s entrance.

“The Godmother?” he asked gently.

Claire’s throat constricted.

“Aye,” Jenny answered for her. “Claire is Caitlin’s Godmother.”

Claire swallowed thickly, then put on a tiny smile. “Caitlin?”

“Aye. Caitlin Maisri Murray.” Jenny was staring at her adoringly, bouncing her gently.

“Beautiful,” Claire said reverently.

Father Gregor nodded. “Shall we begin?”

Ian sat in the bed beside Jenny, a strong, solid arm around her shoulders. Jenny gestured for Claire to sit in the chair beside the bed, right next to Jenny and baby Caitlin. Father Gregor spoke in gentle Latin, and Jenny and Ian responded in Latin when necessary. Claire was, admittedly, lost, but she understood enough to know what was happening at least, and whenever a particular chant was repetitive enough, she joined in after a few times.

At a particular point, Jenny gently nudged Claire, and she snapped to attention to see that Jenny was holding Caitlin out to her. Numbly, Claire reached out for her, cradling her close when she was placed in her arms. Claire stood, facing Father Gregor.

“Vis baptizari?”

Claire stared dumbly at the priest.

“Volo,” he whispered kindly.

“Volo,” Claire repeated, nodding. “Volo.”

Father Gregor nodded, and gestured for her to hold Caitlin over the bowl.

“Caitlin Maisri Murray.” He poured water over her head once.

“Ego te baptizo in nomine Patris.” Twice.

“Et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” Three times.

“Deus omnipotens, Pater Domini nostri Iesu Christi, qui te regeneravit ex aqua et Spiritu Sancto, quique dedit tibi remissionem omnium peccatorum, ipse te liniat Chrismate Salutis in eodem Christo Iesu Domino nostro in vitam aeternam.”

“Amen,” Jenny and Ian said behind her.

“Amen,” Claire repeated.

“Pax tibi,” Father Gregor said.

“Et cum spiritu tuo,” all three of them recited together this time. Despite Claire’s lack of practice of Catholicism, years of Church in her youth could not erase the reflexiveness of the standard call and response.

“Vade in pace et Dominus sit tecum. Amen.”

“Amen.”

Claire instinctively crossed herself, and she saw Jenny and Ian do the same from the corner of her eye.

“She will be in Christ’s embrace now,” Father Gregor said softly.

Claire pressed a brief kiss to Caitlin’s little forehead, unable to ignore the sound of her strangled, labored breathing. She placed her back in Jenny’s arms and sat back down in the chair beside her.

“Thank you,” she said to both Jenny and Ian. “I’m honored.”

“We thank ye as well,” Ian said.

Jenny was lost in adoring her baby for a moment, and Claire was lost in watching her.

“Will ye stay wi’ us, sister?” Jenny’s voice was thin and frail in a way that Claire had never heard before. “Until the Lord takes her?”

A tear slipped out of Claire’s eye and she nodded fervently, putting a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Of course.”

It was impossible to say how long they sat there, Jenny crooning to her daughter in Gaelic with Ian occasionally chiming in, Father Gregor chanting in Latin. It could have been hours and hours, days and days…but it was still not long enough.

Jenny pressed her face closer and closer to Caitlin’s as her breathing grew quieter and quieter, desperate to still be able to hear her very last breath. She rocked her gently, back and forth, pressing her closer and closer until Jenny was practically doubled over, their foreheads touching. Claire kept her hand on Jenny’s back, rubbing soothing circles. Ian brushed her hair back, kissed her temple, rocked with her, unable to let her go.

Claire would never forget the sound of the horrible silence that began the very second a little baby was no longer struggling to breathe.

Jenny did not stop rocking, but the sound of her sobbing was unmistakable.

“Requiem aeternam dona eis, domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescat in pace. Amen.”

“Amen,” Ian choked out.

Claire could not speak.

Father Gregor approached the bed and placed his hand atop Jenny’s head as she shook with the force of her tears.

“May God grant you comfort in this sorrowful time. Take comfort that your daughter is at peace, and the little time she had in this world was full of love beyond measure.”

Ian nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

“I’ll return tomorrow for a burial?”

“Aye. Thank ye.”

Claire covered her mouth with both of her hands, and Ian gathered Jenny in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. Silent tears trickled down Ian’s cheeks and disappeared into Jenny’s hair.

Claire stood as Father Gregor gathered his things, and she followed him out of the room; if she’d stayed she would have felt like she was intruding on something very private.

She closed the door behind them, and as she turned to keep walking, she was surprised to find that Father Gregor had stopped. She looked tearily up at him.

“Have courage, my child.” He touched her head as he had Jenny’s. “He is with you, all of you. Have faith.”

Claire felt her throat close up.

Have Faith.

Father Gregor smiled kindly once more before disappearing down the hall and down the steps.

Her back against the wall, Claire sank slowly to the floor, landing with a soft thud. She curled into herself, arms resting on her knees, face buried in her arms, and she wept.

Have Faith.

That word, that name hadn’t destroyed her so thoroughly in a very long time.

[goodeday2u]

Christmas Miracle

@vintagegoddess12  Happy Holidays Secret Santa! I hope you love it <3

Cordelia settled herself on the hospital bed, her usual stoic confidence replaced with worry, fear and excitement all rolled into one.  Y/N covered her and fluffed her pillows before sitting at attention beside her wife.  She was cool, calm and collected for her Cordelia...inside she was wreck. Cordelia offered her lover a smile before another contraction ripped through her.  "jesussss christ theyre getting stronger" Cordelia nervous laughed taking in her surroundings.  Its not common that the reigning Supreme gets nervous but here she wasn't the true paramount supreme of witches, today she was a vulnerable pregnant woman about to become a mother.  A role she had worn with ease over the last 9 months making her wife fall deeper in love with her every single day.  But today was the culmination of those long months and the many years of trying and failing even before meeting the woman who would become her wife.  

Y/N relaxed into her chair, the doctor indicating we were in for a long wait as Delia was only 2cm along.   They clicked on the tv and settled into comfortable silence while they waited for the pizza Cordelia begged they order to the hospital--her only true craving.  She was in early labor and they had read enough books to know her window of opportunity to eat was dwindling.  Cordelia sat in comfortable silence while the induction meds were hooked up.  Their baby had a mind of their own and was just too comfy to move and was going on almost 2 weeks late resulting in a planned induction.  Her mind wandered to her mother and how she must have felt at this moment, on the precipise of becoming a mother, all alone.  She was beyond grateful for someone at her side but for that person to be the love of her life, to be as amazing as Y/N is, well...she just thought herself to be the luckiest person alive. Despite the old wounds Fiona inflicted over the years Cordelia missed her mother and grieved for the missed opportunity to see her become a grandmother and love this little being more than she could have loved her.  But she wasn't. Fiona was gone, she was the supreme now.  She had to carry on and carry on she did.  She took on that oath to Supremacy more than any other; determined to be the opposite of Fiona.  She took her position so seriously that she almost lost a chance at a life for herself initially rebuking any of Y/N advances and ignoring any feelings for her until she lost her and fought hard for her return.  She'd never forget that lesson.  She swore on her soul she would never let Y/N go another moment not knowing how in love she was with her.  She smiled at the thoughts of their young life together and all to come; absentmindedly tracing circles on her wife’s hand who has not let go of yours in hours.  You give it a squeeze and smile at her.   "What?" Y/N laughs "Nothing....im just thinking about how lucky i am to have found you. And how excited I am for the rest of our lives," Cordelia replies, a hint of a tear threatening to fall.   "I'm the lucky one Delia. I love you so much" Y/N replies, squeezing her hand and tucking the hair behind her ear.   A phone interrupts their tender moment, "Must be the pizza!" Y/N exclaims, standing up and kissing her wife once and then again for good measure before getting a wink and heading off to retrieve the pizza.  Cordelia leaned back checking her phone for any signs of issues back at the academy but was instead met with texts of encouragement and congratulations.  Myrtle had been noticeably silent--she had moved back to the academy and took over as head mistress so Delia and Y/N could make a home for themselves and a life outside of the academy.  Her and Delia talked every day or at least every other as their surrogate mother/daughter relationship only became stronger over the years.  She treated Y/N like a daughter in law which is why its been so strange to Cordelia that her Auntie Myrtle had now been silent for about two days before the induction.  

They ate pizza in comfortable silence and even polished off a few episodes of the crown Y/N cleverly saved on her ipad. The pain had progressed now and she was no longer comfortable.   The doctor came in and did another check--fully dilated and ready to go.  Cordelia grabbed her wifes hand and squeezed out of sheer fear of the next step.  Her wife, fully in control, guiding her every move and thought.  Strong and fearless--what Cordelia loves most about her.  What her patients must think about her she muses constantly in awe of her wife.  "This is it D--we're about to become parents!" Cordelia musters whatever strength she can to begin pushing while her wife never loses contact with her--coaching her and telling her how amazing she's doing. "ahhhhhhhhhhhh why isn't this easier I'm the fucking supremeeeeee" she wailed, pushing with all her might "I know darlin, you're so strong.  So so strong. Come on look at me, look at me and push." Cordelia digs deep and musters any fight she has towards one final push before she collapses on her back to the music of baby cries. She cries herself, overcome with emotion, while Y/N kisses her wet hair and never lets their hands part. Cordelia wanted Y/N to be the one to announce the gender so she shaking looked over and cried to her wife, "Its a boy, Delia.  We have a son"They place the bloody baby on her bare chest and she sobs at the sight of him.  "Oh my god, he's beautiful. He's beautiful Y/N" "You did it baby, that's our son. I'm so so proud of you" Y/N gushes They take him to clean him off and check him out.  "Is the baby ok?" Delia asks already feeling the emptiness of her arms waiting for her little one.  "Your son is healthy and beautiful Mrs. Goode" as they hand this little pink fella back to his moms handing him to Y/N this time.  She looks down on him and smiles, "Hi my boy. I'm your mom" and tearfully laughs towards her wife.  Cordelia's chest aches at the sight--the love of her life holding the little life they created.  Pure bliss no amount of magic could ever compete with.  Y/N handed their son back to Cordelia who held him close to her skin and kissed his tiny head, smelling the newborn magic already.   A red headed firestorm burst through the doors, "Did I miss it?!?!" Myrtle exclaimed, bursting into the room and stopping dead at the sight before her.  "Oh my dear daughter, it seems I'm just in time.  Tell me--do I have a grandson or granddaughter?" she asked, arms clasped and tears in her eyes.  "Oh my god myrtle," she cried, "you came?!"  "Why of course I did dear, my only daughter was having my first grandchild.  Nothing could have stopped me plus your darling wife here ensured I make it." she said motioning to Y/N who now walked over to Myrtle and wrap her in a hug bringing her over to Cordelia.  Cordelia mouthed her love to Y/N for just knowing her so well that having Myrtle be there would be significant.  Cordelia hands her the child and she cradles him whispering a spell of protection over him.  "He's simply stunning ladies.  Well done." she cooed.  Delia leaned back into her wife’s arms, content that her entire world was complete.  She noticed the clock--”Its after midnight baby--Merry Christmas.”

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

OT3FIC: American Eskimo Dog

28 -  summer pineapple delude quirky astound greasy moonlight bait

The dogs had had the most excitable day and were all laid about, panting heavily and relaxing after all the excitement across the dry grass of the backyard under the dappled shade of the tree above on the hot summer evening. Will felt an innate wish to be just like them and lay out there as dusk started and the group surrounding the barbecue and smoker drank their beers, and those flitting about the outdoor table put the final place settings and salads out. It had been almost as exhausting keeping up with the conversation of the last two hours as the constant running and spinning the dogs had done.

It wasn’t like any Fourth of July that the empath had ever participated in recently.  Usually he spent the day doing work around the property, maybe a trip to the only open takeaway for Chinese food and trying not to let the dogs go too crazy at the fireworks on the other side of the forest. This year though, Will had found himself surrounded by some of the FBI’s most wanted as well as some others that would have been beyond his belief if someone had told him before he met the blonde that they existed.  It wasn’t even like any of the strange ‘holidays’ that had cropped up in his life.

Since Jo and Grey had moved in, Will’s concept of what constituted a family event had changed and broadened significantly.

Will now found that there were days called Death Days which called for celebration - or rather copious amounts of alcohol and tight hugs that he had thus far managed to avoid being a part of. There were three of them still living that celebrated these - Jo’s usually involving a visit from the brother’s and grumpy surrogate dad; Dean’s was usually one where Jo would be from home and not back for a few days where she would practically fold in on herself in tears in the threshold upon getting home; Sam’s seemingly was a little more joyous an occasion where the tall hunter and his brother would bring fireworks and dubbed it more affectionately Apocalypse Aversion Day (though Will had learned through a hushed conversation with the blonde while she was very intoxicated that this was his second Death Day date but none of them wanted to ever think about the original one and the wheels that put in motion) - and then there were the ones in memoriam. There was one for Jo’s father but that was always her own private day where Will would be lucky to see her at all before sunset, and then it would be straight to bed with warm arms circling her. There was another for a man called John, who so far as Will could tell was the overbearing and controlling, estranged father for the other two hunters, but Jo seemed to spend those talking to the boys on the phone and lighting a pyre in the field for some reason or other. He’d learned there was a date for the older hunter’s wife too, where Jo would visit for a week and come home exhausted and needing sleep more than others.

There were happier seeming occasions and more normal holidays as well like Christmas (which always had a funny story about pagans and an evil witch), and birthday’s. But there was also more obscure ones - like how Jo would go to New Orleans every year for Mardi Gras and only ever explained the rationale as “I’ve got a friend I need to keep honest on the tips. And maybe a patron to see”; and a date that Will had dubbed Monster Day in his mind which always had Grey’s siblings suddenly inundating the farm, or at least the ones in bodies which was still strange to wrap his head around, and Jo scurrying out to the forest away from them after a warm greeting. There was Samhain not Halloween, there was other pagan-based reflections that Jo claimed it was “just smart” to stay in favor of, and there was a date Grey called Love Day not long before Valentine’s Day itself where he would suddenly lavish Jo with gifts. There was also another Love Day which was much the same but to himself, and Will still blushed every time when he realized it was the anniversary of their first time and just how much effort Grey put into being a calm and nurturing presence around him that day.

But that they were doing something particularly normal, particularly average and particularly mundane like Fourth of July was more unusual than normal in the grand scheme of things.

“Comin’ through!” The loud call came from the back door as Will turned his head to the noise to spout Jo spinning about blindly with an entire crate of beers held in her arms with another case on top blocking her face from her path as two of the shadows quickly disperses from her path between the door and the cooler.

“Jo, you shouldn’t-” “I was a freakin’ bartender for longer than you’ve been topside. I can handle some beers.” “Really Cupcake, that’s uncalled for.” “Oh whatever, out of m’ way!”

Will watched in amusement from against the oak’s trunk as Jo bouldered her way across the grass and sat the cartons down as the quirky strangest of the shadow’s ran over to help her unload them and begin filling the coolers. Shada who had objected to the idea of so much manual labor sniffed and turned back to setting out flower vases, candles, salad bowls and other elements along the long picnic table with the tall blonde shadow-girl following her pointed demands with a constant bobbing of her head. The fourth shadow, the dark haired one who always seemed up to causing trouble rolled his eyes watching his siblings and the blonde huntress before turning his attention back to the slightly taller, gangly looking hunter that had been nursing a single beer for four hours and counting but was somehow still wobbling on his feet.

He’d not thought much other than embarrassment upon meeting the eldest of the siblings - or who he perceived to be such, Grey had once tried to explain the concept of age against terminology but it had been a struggle and he had been much more interested in him using his mouth for something other than the explanation at the time - when she appeared during one of their chore days, but since then Shada had grown on him. Especially when he realized that the shadow was just as fiercely protective of her brother as he himself was. The tall blonde - Ombre - had been the next one he’d met, and while she’d been sweet and quiet and demure, Will couldn’t help but think she was trouble waiting to happen one day, like a young child not yet learning to throw her temper tantrums in the terrible twos. Mail had been next, though he’d been accompanied at the time by the fourth one who still hadn’t quite decided or settled on a name for himself (cycling through generic names including the awkward visit he demanded to be called Consuela Banana Hammock), and Will had found both brother’s almost as equally strange in their own ways as one another. Mail’s inability to sit correctly was almost as weird as the way the other would delude himself into thinking he had struck on gold in a conversation when he just made everything odd.

“Did you need anything else for the barbecue?” Grey called out from the back door towards the group of hunters around the charcoal grill, his head poking out from the back door before he started his own passage towards the dining table with yet another salad for the meal. “More tongs or-”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got it Grey.” “More beers would be good though-” “Dean, Jo just brought out more, get one yourself you lazy asshole.” “Bitch.”

“You idjits better shut up and get me a new beer by the time you’re done arguing.” Bobby’s voice cut over whatever Sam might have said in response along with the metal ting of the tongs against the edge of the grill as he growled back at them. There was a laugh from the table and near the drinks as the two girls, closest and strangely good friends from what Will had learned, so different but so similar laughed in response to the hunter’s grumpiness as Dean kicked at the dried clumps of grass under foot.

Looking over at the trio of hunters to that side, joined quickly by the fourth male hunter at the gathering as the shadow currently going by Ben Dover for the day moved towards annoying one of his siblings and Garth Fitzgerald IV moved to the rest of his own group; Will knew that if Jack had any inkling of who was currently flipping steaks, burgers and smoking a pork butt at his house, it would be the most tempting bait to drive the FBI director towards madness.

Of the four hunters, Will had found himself connecting far more to the older hunter than either of the three closer to his own age. A man living alone a large plot of land far away from town, who preferred the company of his canine companion and the solitude of providing for ones self, was definitely someone that Will could always get along with. The gangly hunter, that Jo and Grey alike swore was a werewolf, was probably his second favorite of Jo’s little side to the family - though he had freaked Will out on their first meeting by pulling him into an exceptionally tight hug; the fact that upon releasing Will, Garth had looked shocked, asked if he was a “touch aversion type” and apologized profusely before never doing the same despite the generous bear hugs Jo and Grey alike would get upon greeting had made a soft spot in the agent’s heart for him. Sam and Dean fell somewhere together, inseparable really the same way they were in all ways that Will had seen, but the more he saw the pair and also saw them around Jo and Grey, the more he liked the pair. Dean was gruff and politically incorrect to Sam’s quiet and sass, and Will had been astounded to realize that he appreciated the both for what they had to offer.

“Alright alright, this lot is done, someone get me the fuckin’ fruit.” “Right here, Bobby!” “Well then bring it over, ya brat, I can’t cook it from over there!”

Will shook his head a little, watching as the older hunter piled one of the foil trays that Grey had brought out high with beef and chicken and even some fish burger patties before the shadow covered the tray with more tin foil and moved it towards the table while Bobby scraped off the surface. They moved in tandem that pair, as if synchronized dancers even though Will knew it was more an innate knowledge of cooking that they shared more than experience or practice.

“Girlie, where-” “Here, you old grump!” “ ‘Bout time.”

The blonde hunter had bounded over after a small amount of rummaging with a few air-tight containers at Bobby’s insistence, setting the containers down before hurrying back towards the table to help guide Mail into the correct way to set out cutlery. Will could tell the second that the first slice went down that it was that glorious sticky, spicy pineapple slices recipe that Grey had been developing and that made Will’s mouth tingle with a mix of the acid of the fruit itself, the slight heat of the spice and the natural sweetness as well as the slight crunch of the demerera sugar included that formed the best crystals of crunchy caramel when they were cooked just right. There were also fresh peaches cut and quartered that he knew were for Jo’s favorite salad and that if Hannibal was there he would have had to concede the grilled peach, mozzarella and prosciutto salad worked fantastically well on a balmy summer’s evening like this when the sun was just crossing the horizon and would finally give way to the night. He even figured there might be some watermelon for the feta and rocket salad he’d suggested they try the next time that Shada was visiting from what one of the spectacularly boring looking salads on the table looked like.

“I’ve got to say, the amount of salad is great this year, Jo.” “Oh yes, Sam, Cupcake definitely made the right choices this year!” “I’m excited to try some of them-” “Of course you are, Ombre. At least there’s no Ambrosia salad-” “What salad?!” “It’s bits of canned fruit! In marshmallow!” “Ewwwww!”

The cries from the two female shadows, their voices loud and high pitched in their disgust perking the ears of the dogs that lay about tired and nearby, curiously cocking toward the noise before all of them besides Zoe decided it wasn’t worth investigating. The small dog snuffed her way around, giving a wide berth to the shadows but looking at them curiously until she was picked up in the loving hold of the werewolf with a scratch under her chin as the group of hunter’s shook their heads at the girls’ antics.

Will found himself shaking his head with the same bemusement as he watched the pair go back and forth over why that “isn’t a salad” or “isn’t food” and then further onto the real question of “why is human food so weird sometimes” which he thought was a valid question, as the eldest hunter began to slowly take the remaining steaks and sausages, chicken strips and the vegetarian options off of the grill into respective foil packages that Sam, Dean or Grey would ferry to the dining table while Jo wrangled the lid of the smoker off with the help of Garth to pull the pork butt out; as if the greasy and somewhat unhealthy but altogether delicious meats might prove the girls’ perceptions wrong without much trouble.

“You know, this is a very old tree.” “Yes it is.” “It had deep roots.” “Yep.” “You will weather any storm with roots this deep.”

The empath wasn’t even surprise to hear the gravelly voice beside himself all of a sudden. The final member of their party for the night was always a late comer according to his best friend; and that the angel had popped in from his busy schedule to simply enjoy a barbecue with friends was touching enough. That, as Will turned slightly to look out the corner of his eye, he could see the angel staring at him in return rather than the knotted roots of the tree they were metaphorically discussing was even more touching. Of all the family, he’d been the one Will automatically connected too even more than Bobby - and giving a small smile, the empath waved a hand towards the table as the moonlight started to rise to shine over them all.

“Ready for some dinner, Cas?” “Thank you for the invitation, Will. You and yours are very accommodating.” “We try to be.”

“It is very good. You are all very good, and you should feel blessed.” Cas’ voice was somewhat tighter than usual and as Will patted a hand on the surprisingly small shoulder under his grip, the other nodded in agreement looking out as their dogs dozed, and both sides of his favorite people’s families merged and mingled together in a mass of smiles and laughter, Will knew that the words were entirely true. It was very good, they were all very good and he sure as heck felt blessed as he caught the eye of his love’s and the way their smiles both widened for him.

[caspian-skye]

The Apoptosis Project, Chapter 1: Darkness Returns.

IT’S HERE! I’m not releasing it on fanfiction until New Years Day, but I thought I’d do a little trial run on here first. I’ve put it under the read more because it’s long and I’d rather not clog your feed. Anyway, I’ve been drafting this since the Summer of 2016 and I’m SUPER passionate about it, so let me know what you think! Likes/Reblogs are much appreciated.

(Cover art of characters is by Stygmatus on here)

Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays!

On a clear night, sailors off Vale’s coast swore they could see the lights of Port Cyrreine from fifty miles away. A myriad of glimmering spires rose into the night sky. The rainbow of hues, from thousands of windows and holographic ads within the maze of skyscrapers, reflected in countless ripples upon the placid black waters off the city’s Southern shore. In front of the wall of light, a lively boardwalk; the vendors stands, restaurants, and crowds of people barely visible in the shadow of a ferris wheel lit bright blue for the night. From a distance, a muffled chorus of sirens could be heard.

Two airships jetted toward the city, the air in their wake tearing the water’s surface.

“Reports on the ground indicate an attack by the creatures of grimm,” a man’s voice scratched through the radio. “I repeat, eyewitnesses are reporting an attack by the creatures of grimm!”

“Grimm?!” Another voice repeated. “No way in hell, those things have been gone for, what? Thirty years now? You sure it’s not Sentinel’s animatronics?”

“We’ve established contact with Headmaster Skye of Sentinel. He was at the academy’s practice grounds when the incident began, and has confirmed all animatronics are in place,” a woman reported. 

“What do we know about the incident so far, then?”

“Just under a hundred port workers were laid off, and replaced with a couple dozen of Frontline’s organic androids. A peaceful protest turned violent when the Red Claw showed up. Right after that is when reports of grimm started coming in,” the woman replied.

“Griswold Baine has sent his son and a team of organds to help sort things out on the ground over there. ETA: less than five minutes,” the man on the radio concluded.

The two airships landed on a flat slab of concrete near the docks, lit by the shipyard cranes above. The door to one lifted to reveal a golden-haired warrior. His armor, fixed over a jet black bodysuit, was dozens of silvery white plates covering chest, shoulders, waist, hips, and legs; the edge of each plate gilded with a shining trim. His eyes were obscured by a knight-like visor, with a single light blue band to ensure vision. Behind him, a score of armored huntsmen.

“There have been reports of deaths in the area,” the man assessed. “All of you. Secure the entrances to each building. Search for survivors, and ensure their safety!”

“Yes, sir!” the huntsmen shouted in unison. They began to pour out onto the streets, save three.

“Desmond, Lavender, Nikole! You three are with me!”

“Yes, sir!” a broad-shouldered man, and two women confirmed.

The street before the huntsmen was a hellscape, far from the peaceful mundanity typical of the city’s port district. To each side of the street, flames leapt from shattered windows, dumpsters, and the hollowed-out remains of cars and shipping equipment. Smoke poured into the alleyways, shading the entire area an eerie shade of orange. 

The golden-haired warrior held his wrist out in front of him, projecting a holographic screen from his Holoband, a watch-like strap around his wrist. With two fingers, he zoomed in on a map of the area. A yellow marker indicated his position on the water’s edge. Several blocks away, a zone was highlighted a bright red. 

“Looks like the Red Claw’s taken control of a warehouse two blocks Northwest. Our mission is to clear them out, and secure the area. Move out!” 

“Midas! Look!” One of the huntsman’s allies interjected, pointing ahead.

He raised his head. Through the smoke, he could make out several black forms. Though on all fours, they stood nearly his height. Their claws scratched viciously at the pavement as they charged forward, their hungry snarls audible above the breaking of glass and crackling of flame.

“Beowolves.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Midas charged forward with Desmond, Lavender, and Nikole in tow. From his back he pulled a beautiful halberd, taller than he and crafted from the same steel as his armor. He plunged the tip of his weapon into the open jaws of the first beast, and flipped through the air. He flung the unfortunate grimm backward into a shield bash from Desmond, and brought the axe’s head down on the next beast as he landed. A pair of swift spins despatched two more grimm before he ducked, deflecting the swipe of another across the shaft of his weapon. Lavender, his teammate in purple, pounced with a pair of bladed tonfas.

The four continued on, clearing out a handful more grimm on the way to the warehouse. As Midas approached a corner, he held an arm out, indicating his teammates to stop. “The Red Claw’s stronghold is just ahead. Post up here, and defend my flank from grimm. I’ll be fine alone.”

The three filled into the street; Desmond in front, posted with his shield. Nikole and Lavender to his sides. Midas stepped forward. The smoke and uncanny glow of the main street grew more intense as he pressed on. From the fog came the scratching of countless feet, their claws impaling concrete with each heavy step.

A stark white pincer, as big as Midas himself, burst from the smoke. He held his weapon up to block the attack, but was forced backward by the power behind the strike. Another pincer attack was met with his weapon’s axehead, and forced into the ground. Two lines of beady red eyes glowed behind the pair of claws, and the creature scuttled into view. Its body was the length of a school bus, low to the ground and clad in bony spines for armor. The scorpion’s tail curled over its body, ending in a malicious golden stinger.

The deathstalker screamed with rage. Midas spun with the momentum of another blocked claw swipe, and thrust the tip of his halberd into the stinger as it bore down on him. He gripped his weapon’s handle as the beast hoisted him into the air.

He cracked a grin as the tip of his halberd unfolded, freeing him from the monster. His weapon’s shaft folded backward, until it had transformed into a bow. Still in mid-air, he pulled back on the string of hard-light dust. The vibrant arcs of electricity crackling around his body became one with the bolt of focused energy forming at his weapon, and he let fly. 

The deathstalker halted in sudden stiffness as the bolt shattered the armor at the back of its head, a shockwave rippling through the smoke. The beast’s tail uncurled and slammed to the ground next to the huntsman as he landed. It began to dissolve into the night.

The huntsman paused, eyes fixed ahead. He had only taken two labored breaths before two men leapt into view, blades prepared to kill. He swore, and electricity coarsed its way through his halberd just before he raised it to block a vicious overhead axe swing. Static worked its way down his enemy’s weapon. The faunus seized up, and Midas freed his weapon. Aura crackled around the assailant’s gut as the tip of Midas’s spear was thrust forward. Midas set his feet, once again transforming his weapon back into a bow. He let fly on his second enemy with a point-blank jolt of dust.  

The smoke began to clear. 

Two dozen feet ahead, a truck had been tipped onto its side, blocking most of the lane. On the edge of the trailer sat a bald-headed woman, clad in leather robes of black and white. As her eyes met his visor, a broad, serpentine tail pulled up from behind her, and settled in her lap.

“Red Claw commander!” Midas called. “Who are you working for? He’s here, isn’t he?!”

“And why would I tell you, prettyboy?” the commander mocked, her tail lashing once. “Although, by the way you asked that, you already know the answer.”

–

“C…. w..ke ..p,” a young woman’s voice faded in and out.

The morning light pouring in the window was far too bright. The plush bedcovers weighed the boy’s body down, sinking him deeper into his mattress. He groaned, and rolled over.

“Come on, get up. My breakfast is getting cold.”

“Go away, Lazula,” the boy mumbled, feebly shooing her away. He gathered his pillow in front of his eyes. 

“Lilly’s gonna be there…” the young woman teased, her voice softening. “Sleep much longer, and you won’t be able to shower.”

Lilly. Lilliane Corvis-Braun. The very image of beauty, kindness, and feminine grace, in the boy’s eyes. Sure, they had been friends for the longest time. She probably wouldn’t judge him for one morning of disheveled hair. But still. He couldn’t stand the thought of questionable hygiene on a day he would see her. He worked his way upright, shivering as the blankets fell to his waist. He turned to look at his sister with an exaggerated look of bitterness.

Though the two were twins, the young man and Lazula bore little resemblance. Lazula had inherited her father’s strong chin; dark, full brows; and long, straight nose. Her eye color was difficult to discern. Though mostly a green-heavy hazel, transient flecks of nearly every color seemed to come and go, by lighting and by the minute. Her hair, a vivid electric blue, was swept to one side in front, tied into a messy low bun in back. Caspian guessed she had snuck in some early-morning training. 

Between the young man’s soft, kind-looking face, large round eyes of a vivid blue, and button nose, he was quite obviously his mother’s child. His hair was coarse yet voluminous, falling in fluffy layers to eyebrow level in front, and chin level in back. His deep blue roots were visible at the crown of his head, but faded to silver further away.

“Good morning, Caspian. You slept for seven hours and thirty-seven minutes,” the automated voice of a woman reported from the headboard. “Would you like to see this morning’s top news stories?”

“Yes,” Lazula cut in. She nudged her brother as he began to doze off again.

A holographic screen flashed up across the foot of the bed, displaying an aerial view of a street near the docks. Between the stacks of shipping containers and open flames, three beowolves and a hulking, ursine form ran. “Darkness returns: eight are confirmed dead and fourteen have been wounded in a Port Cyrreine grimm attack overnight. Authorities confirm this is the first grimm attack in twenty-five years,” the voice stated. “Vytal Tournament champion Midas Baine was dispatched to the scene with his team and several organic androids, but was ultimately unsuccessful in apprehending the woman believed to be behind the attack.”

“Geez… Looks like Ichigo was right,” Caspian said, putting on the round lens, wire-framed glasses that rested against his bedside lamp. “He told me grimm were sighted, and I… well, was I supposed to just believe it?”

Lazula sighed. “Looks like this huntsman education will do us some good after all.” She stood, and walked to the door of Caspian’s room. She rested one hand on the doorknob and turned around. “We have to pass the entrance exam first. You should start getting ready.”

“Of course you’ll pass…” Caspian muttered, watching Lazula leave. He switched off the holographic screen, which had changed stories to show a bald, bearded man in a tailored suit giving a speech. After grabbing a bite to eat, throwing a few last-minute items into his suitcase, and grabbing  his pre-planned outfit of a blue knit sweater and khakis, he made his way to the shower.

The water scalded his back, but he paid no mind as it drained between his feet. “Today is the day,” he thought. He took a deep breath. The final entrance examination. His written scores, apparently, had been on par with the top percentage of Sentinel applicants. He scraped by the physical tests, but today… 

Every time he thought about it, it made him feel a little sick.

Caspian turned off the water. One typical morning routine later, and he opened the door, giving himself one last look in the mirror. Yet as he turned to the doorway, he started. 

His eyes locked with a colorless stare. Not silver, not even a light blue. Her irises  were entirely devoid of color. Her matching hair was styled neatly, bangs sweeping across her forehead and tucking under the locks that framed her doll-like face. Her hair in back tapered to a single point at the nape of her neck.

“Oh! Snow. Thank you, for the jumpscare,” Caspian said, grinning with embarrassment and holding a hand over his chest. 

Though Caspian’s heart was one beat from leaping out of his throat, the girl was entirely unperturbed. Her gaze followed him. “Your mother told me to tell you she would like to leave in twenty  minutes.” Her eyes cast downward, looking to the holoscreen she projected from the band at her wrist. “This was two minutes ago. Will you be ready in eighteen minutes?”

“Eighteen?” Caspian repeated. He pursed his lips, and grabbed several items from the bathroom counter. “I guess I’ll have to be. Oh, if you’re here, is Uncle Doug around?” he guessed.

“He’s working this morning. He said he will try to attend the Final Examination,” Snow said. Her voice was soft, hardly ever carrying much more strength than a whisper. Words followed each other in disengaged monotony. 

She turned, beginning to walk down the hall. Caspian admired her combat outfit, which she had already changed into. A snow white vest made of neoprene met her skirt at belt level, on which she holstered the handle of her weapon. The skirt was patterned into the interweaving fractal arms of a snowflake, layers underneath, visible in the gaps between the snowflake’s arms, a shade of light blue. She wore a collared shirt of the same shade beneath her vest, the tight sleeves coming down to her wrists. Black socks were the only hint of darkness to her outfit, starting at her knee and feeding into her glossy white boots.

The hum of the airship’s engines was all Caspian heard. It was the perfect background noise for his thoughts, all blending together into one monotonous drone. Snow sat beside him, her vacant gaze matching Caspian’s out the window. Lazula sat a few rows behind the pair, watching a video from her last tournament, playing and replaying to study each of her moves meticulously.

The city of Port Cyrreine was founded on two peninsulas, jutting out into the ocean like a massive pair of jaws. The Southern peninsula, further from the airship window, held the city’s downtown. Closer to the mainland, the skyscrapers tapered off into a maze of dingy mid-rise buildings, and area of town Caspian intended to avoid.

Toward the peninsula’s tip, a magnificent structure of glass and steel. The apexes of two black towers, one just half the height of the taller, skewered the sky. A golden ring circled the neck of the giant, holding an airship platform nearly a thousand feet above the ground below. A shell of smooth, silvery-white encased the Northern side of the structure, which loomed above the mouth of the bay. It was the Headquarters of Frontline Biomedical Technologies.

Snow’s eyes seemed intent on the building.

The Northern peninsula; the tract of land the airship carrying Caspian, Lazula, and Snow, descended over; was almost entirely residential. Frontline’s main hospital sat on the tip, directly North of corporate headquarters. 

“Perks of being the Headmaster’s kids,” Caspian noted, sticking a finger to the window and peering down. “We don’t have to sit in that.” 

Lazula appeared, leaning over Caspian’s seat and looking to the city below. Seacrest Bridge, the lone road between the two halves of Port Cyrreine, was packed bumper to bumper. 

“Lilly’s there, she said she’s with Rowan and Ichigo,” Lazula said. “Laurel’s on her way, but the traffic doesn’t look bad from the North. Still, I don’t envy whoever’s stuck in that mess.”

A few minutes passed, and Caspian looked away from the window and into his lap as the airship slowed to a stall. He felt it begin to descend upon a mile-wide cape that stuck into the bay from the city’s Northern half.

The campus of Sentinel Academy.

[needdl]

One Spawn at a Time (Part One)

“The baby was due in T-minus four weeks- not that Tenten was going to let that slow her down.”

and YES this has been up FFN and AO3 for a while but in my defense: whatever

Part One    Part Two

The light from the fire cast a warm glow over Neji’s features, softening them and gently casting the divets in his collarbone into shadow as Tenten nestled against his shoulder, clasping his hand in both of her own and tracing over his profile with her gaze. Hopefully Gai and Lee weren’t paying too close of attention to them, absorbed as they were in getting the chicken cooking over the campfire, because she knew her stare was undoubtedly sappy.

It couldn’t be helped- Neji had woken her from her (now daily) late afternoon nap with gentle kisses and soft touches, plus a snack, and she was feeling very fond of him at the moment.

And also very hungry. Hopefully dinner would be ready soon.

She knew Neji was still a little wary over camping right now, what with her due date being in a few weeks and all, but so far the experience had been nothing short of pleasant. Gai and Lee, normally very extreme in dragging Neji and Tenten into their exhausting physical activities, were more than happy to let Tenten stay in the hammock and read her book (aka nap) while they dragged Neji into white-water rafting or something.

It was a win-win, as far as Tenten was concerned, because she and Neji could go for walks in the mornings after breakfast while Lee and Gai did their own thing, then meet back up with them for lunch. Then they could all relax for a bit before the three men departed to go be manly in the woods (or something). Tenten would nap, wake up to eat a snack, and then be up and perky by the time they came back.

Today the three of them had gotten back a little early, but Neji had spent all the extra time cuddling her in their tent and getting her in a very agreeable and snuggly mood. She pretty much trailed him around the campsite after that, clinging to his arm.

Even when he was building up the fire, which probably was very annoying but he was smart enough not to say anything. Then he had to help her stand up from her awkward crouch on the ground.

Lee and Gai had volunteered to cook dinner, so Tenten immediately plastered herself against Neji’s side in Gai’s ugly two-person camping chair and hadn’t moved since. Every once in a while she tugged him down to kiss him. He seemed pretty all right with it, if his tiny smug smiles and gentle touches to her pregnant belly were anything to judge.

She was in such a good mood that she didn't even mind the touches, which normally made her roll her eyes and grouch a bit when anyone other than Neji did it.

(With Neji she bore it with more grace, given that he was like, the father of the baby and all that. Plus he knew she didn't much like it and limited his contact to non-invasive, short touches. Even so, she usually had to swallow her biting jibes- because Neji was sweet and thoughtful even though he was usually the unfair recipient of her bad moods and he deserved to feel their little spawn moving around if he wanted to.)

Neji wrapped his arm around her and brought his hand around to rest on the side of her tummy. She clasped her hand over his and held it there, smiling softly into the firelight as he dropped his head down to nuzzle her temple.

Lee studiously turned over a few pieces of chicken. “Almost ready!” He announced cheerfully. Gai, digging through the cooler in the car to get out the greens for their salad, cheered loudly in response. Tenten ignored them both, cupping Neji’s jaw in her hand and holding him in place while she kissed him thoroughly and admittedly, rather loudly.

“Please stop,” Lee said plaintively.

A week later (and one week closer to her due date), Tenten was feeling arguably the best she had felt for her entire pregnancy. Neji had helped her shave her legs that morning because she couldn’t reach them any more and he was the best husband in the world, plus a bunch of the baby clothes they’d ordered arrived and were waiting in a package on the doorstep when she got home from work.

She dragged it inside and ripped it open eagerly, then spent the next half an hour sitting in the foyer happily blubbering over the tiny socks and shirts and onesies and pants.

I’m going to have a baby, she thought joyfully to herself, and it’s going to be soft and fat and cute and my baby.

She paused to consider the mess around her, wiping at her eyes with the collar of her shirt. Neji would undoubtedly be anticipating opening the clothes just as much as she had, so she began to fold things back up and put them in the box for him to unveil. He probably wouldn’t cry as much as she had though.

She left the box on prominent display on the kitchen counter, then headed upstairs to change into maternity leggings and an oversized tee. (Bless maternity leggings, honestly.) It took her an embarrassing amount of time to get her maternity pantsuit off and the casual wear on, but hey, she was almost thirty-seven weeks pregnant. The whole “moving around” thing wasn’t easy.

She got back down to the kitchen to start on dinner and absently pulled her phone from her purse to find about ten billion texts from Neji checking to make sure she was home safely.

Oops. As she got closer to their due date Neji had gotten more and more tense about her safety, and it had become his norm to check on her at several key points throughout the day. If she didn’t respond promptly enough, she could practically feel his blood pressure rising.

Luckily he hadn’t called her yet, which always indicated peak worry. She sent a quick text confirming she was home, followed by ‘baby clothes came today! got distracted opening them. srry babe xoxo’

‘I see.’ He responded. ‘How do they look?’

‘so small and cute. it’s ridiculous.’

‘Well, babies are small and cute.’

‘omg u are truly a genius.’

‘Don’t be a smart ass.’

‘why? you gonna punish me? :3’

‘Don’t you make three-face at me.’

‘:3 :3 :3’

‘😑’

‘hehe ❤️❤️’

When no answer was forthcoming, she tucked her phone into the waistband of her leggings and moved into the kitchen to look at what food they had for dinner- but not before snagging a bag of chips and ripping it open as one of many early evening snacks.

After a moment spent contemplating their food options, Tenten started pulling out the things she needed to make xiao long bao. She’d cooked up the chicken-based (part of her always mourned the fact she couldn’t use fatty pork to make up a rich broth, but Neji didn’t eat red meat and she loved him so much that she would sacrifice it) soup broth the night before to use in the next few days, so now she just needed to make up the filling and her dough.

She made the filling first, with a chicken (sigh) and shrimp base. There was a moment that she spent looking at the Shaoxing wine and thinking longingly about having a cold beer on a hot day, but she overcame it and quickly used what she needed and put away the bottle. Better not to think of lost pastimes.

She was just about to start adding the hot water to her flour for the dough when she realized what an imminent mess she was about to make and paused to grab an apron.

Once upon a time, Tenten had one single dark navy apron that fit adequately and functioned well. Then she moved in with Neji, who was a disaster in the kitchen if his meals went beyond chopping up vegetables or using a rice cooker. They’d quickly learned that they needed several aprons, because they had to wash them quite a bit. (He was better at cooking now, thank goodness.)

Also, once upon a time Tenten hadn’t been pregnant and her aprons would go on and stay on with one quick loop and tie. Now it was a whole five minutes to get the damned thing on and tie it well enough to stay on.

The baby kicked at her ribs, seemingly catching her disgruntled train of thought and defiantly proving a point.

Making the dough was a labor-intensive and exhausting endeavor, and Tenten quickly immersed herself in kneading it into perfection.

She was concentrating so hard on the task that she didn’t even hear when Neji got home. He walked into the kitchen after she didn’t respond to his quiet greeting and froze, watching her rotund figure work at the dough.

After a moment, his eyes confirmed to him that yes, Tenten was barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen preparing dinner for her husband. Exactly the image she’d vehemently rejected in middle school and high school.

Tenten swore viciously in Mandarin at the dough. “WHY ARE YOU SO STICKY,” she demanded of it. The dough had no excuse for its behavior.

Neji’s soft chuckle caught Tenten’s attention, and she whirled around, startled. Upon seeing him standing there, her entire face lit up, and the resulting leap in his chest made it difficult for a few moments to concentrate on the excited speech she immediately launched in greeting.

He tuned in again in time to hear her say, “-and I’m just wrapping up with the dough and about to get the steamer ready, if you want to go get changed and then help me fold up the dumplings?”

“Very well. But first-” Neji set his briefcase on the counter and crossed over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss.

A few minutes later, he pulled away and met Tenten’s dazed eyes. “I’m home,” he told her.

She gazed up at him, looking starstruck, then let out a small, almost shy smile.  “Welcome back.”

Another week closer to her due date- it was just a few days away now- and Tenten was over it.

She was ready to have an actual baby to hold and to coo over and to urp on her and to cry all night- she wanted all of it, especially if it meant no longer being pregnant.

She sprawled out on the bed and glared up at the ceiling, absolutely furious over the mere concept of getting up and dressed and breakfasted and going to work.

“Neji,” she said plaintively, “I’m ready to have this baby.”

There was a loud clattering noise from the bathroom, and Neji called sharply, “What?”

She jerked a little at the frantic tone in his voice, then realized what she had said. “Oh-” She half-attempted to roll over a bit to look at him, but gave up fast. “I don’t mean I’m in labor! Just tired of being pregnant. Didn’t mean to make it sound like that, sorry.”

She could hear Neji exhale in a gust. “Ah.”

They were both quiet again for a minute, as Neji went back to shaving and she went back to doing her best impression of a beached whale (at least, that’s what it seemed like to her. She couldn’t even see over the swell of her belly into the bathroom.)

Neji cleared his throat in the silence. “Maybe you should take ma-”

“Nope.” She called back promptly.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to suggest, again, that I take an early maternity leave. I’m not taking maternity leave until I go into labor or a week after our due date.”

There was a soothing pitch to his voice when he next replied. “But wouldn’t it be easier? You hate sitting at your desk all day, you’d at least be able to get up and do other things-”

“I do laps around exhibits with the tour guides.”

“But you wouldn’t have to worry about going to work, you could just focus on resting up and prepping for the baby.”

It was tempting, and Tenten cupped her belly with her hand as she thought it over. There was a hopeful silence coming from the bathroom.

“Eh, nah,” Tenten decided. Neji let out a whoosh of air.

“Tennie-”

“Come over here and help me up,” she raised her arms in the air and flapped her hands at him.

He sighed again, and a few moments later she could see his head over the top of her tummy. He stopped at the end of the bed and frowned at her.

She let her hands fall down to rest at her sides on top of the bed covers. “Hey.”

“Hello.” He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Neither was she, actually.

After a few more seconds of staring at each other, Tenten got a crick in her neck from craning her head to see Neji. She let her skull thump back against the bed.

“So, you’re not going to help me up?”

“I like seeing you stuck on your back like a beetle.”

Tenten let out a loud, startled laugh. “What?!” Neji didn’t make jokes very often, and it always delighted her when he did.

She continued chortling as he smiled down at her, stepping closer to smooth his hand over the tight skin on her belly. He held out his other hand to her and she took it, allowing him to pull her into a sitting position.

She grinned up at him. “That was a good joke.”

“Thank you.”

Tenten leaned over and wrapped her arms around his waist, nestling her head against his stomach and humming happily as he put one arm over her shoulders and cradled her head in the other.

“I like you a lot,” she told him, her voice muffled by his skin.

“I like you too.”

“A lot?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” She mused on it for a few moments, then said, “Then maybe we should get married and have a baby.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll have to ask my wife if she’s okay with it.”

“She probably will be. She seems pretty cool. A total babe.”

His chuckle rumbled in his chest, and she fought back a shiver over the low pitch. “You have no idea,” he told her, smoothing a lock of hair over her back.

He pulled away a few moments later and she pouted. “You need to get ready for work,” he reminded her, looking regretful.

“Ugh, work.”

Neji raised his eyebrows and a keen look came over his eye. Tenten cut him off before he could say anything. “Just because I complain about it doesn’t mean I want to stay home!”

He sighed- he was always sighing, apparently he was too refined to roll his eyes- and was about to speak, so Tenten reached around him to grab his butt.

He choked off rather abruptly, eyes wide, and she grinned up at him. Her hands flexed as she dug her fingers in, enjoying herself immensely (Neji’s butt was unreal. And it was her goddamn right to touch her husband’s butt as much as her heart desired.) Neji stared blankly at the wall in front of him as his cheekbones pinked and Tenten gleefully kneaded away.

After a moment, she leaned over- both hands still gripping his ass- and mouthed at his abs. The muscles twitched, and when she glanced up at Neji’s face through her lashes he was clenching his jaw.

Slowly, she drew her hands around to his front and lightly scratched her nails down his abdomen. Just above the waistband of his slacks, she paused, fingers tracing along the edge, then pulled away.

Tenten stood up cheerfully. “Well, I guess I should get ready for work!” She walked into the bathroom and started closing it with great relish.

She caught a glimpse of Neji through the gap. He was standing still, back ramrod straight, and scowling at the wall.

Tenten grinned and closed the door with a sassy little snap.

The day of their due date, both Neji and Tenten spent their time in a haze, flurrying over any movements from the baby and staying up for the entire night “just in case.”

When dawn came and there hadn’t been a single contraction, they realized that maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea, because now they had to go to work. (And also what if the baby had actually come, or came the next day when they were sleep deprived? They had not thought that one through very well.)

Tenten just pitied anyone who had to interact with Neji that day, because the man got very grouchy without his beauty sleep.

Not that she was much better, but at least she had “imminent baby arrival” as an excuse.

Work was uneventful, which was a mixed blessing because it meant she didn’t have to do anything, but it also meant she didn’t have anything to do.

(It made sense and she’d fight anyone who said otherwise.)

Neji texted her constantly throughout the day, checking in on her and complaining about clients. They had a nice long phone conversation at lunch though, which perked up Tenten quite a bit and hopefully did the same for him.

Still, once quitting time rolled around and Tenten was faced with the option of leaving, she took it quite gleefully.

Rather than going straight home though, she took a little detour to Neji’s building in downtown Konoha and rode the elevator up to his office floor.

Udon looked up at her in slight surprise, but gave her a polite smile. “Hello, Huang-hakase.”

“Hi Udon-san. Tenten-san is fine,” she reminded him. “Is Neji busy right now?”

“Nope, he’s clear for the rest of the day.”

Tenten stopped to lean against the reception desk, propping one hand on her lower back. “Was he in a bad mood today?”

“Er-” Udon had the grace to look a little uncomfortable at gossiping about one of his coworkers, even if it was with said coworker’s wife. “Well, he wasn’t in a great mood, but it’s not like he took it out on anyone, really, except maybe Hatake-bucho, and he usually kind of deserves it...”

Tenten grinned. “Sounds about right. Is it okay if I head in, then?”

“Sure, Huang-ha- er, Tenten-san. Would you like me to notify him at all?”

“Nah, we’ll see how snippy he gets before he realizes it’s me.” She waved to Udon over her shoulder and waddled over to Neji’s office, knocking once before busting the door open.

He was sitting at his desk and scowling, eyes on the computer monitor and pen in hand over some documents. At the sound of the door opening his jaw clenched and he snapped, “What.”

She snorted and closed the door behind her. “So it was that kind of a day.”

He jerked his head up and stared at her in surprise. “Tenten.”

“Yep.” She crossed the room and grabbed one of the chairs in front of his desk, then swung it around to sit next to him. “Teach us to not adhere to our sleep schedule, huh?”

“An unfortunate time for such a realization, given that we are due for a baby any day now.”

She gave him a wry grin and leaned in to kiss him briefly. “Well, I got off a little early today and figured I’d stop by. How were your clients from hell?”

“I’ve had worse, but they were… quite obtuse.”

She leaned back in her chair, linking their fingers together and smiling up at him. “I’m all ears, love.”

Four days after their due date and they were all ready for the baby to be born, including said baby. It had been doing somersaults for a few days and kicking up a storm, and while Tenten loved her little dumpling she was ready for the dumpling not do that anymore while she was trying to sleep.

Her obstetrician had recommended sex as ye old standby for inducing labor, so they’d been having a fun time with that, at least.

In fact, they’d spent the entire weekend, uh, trying to induce labor.

But as Sunday drew to a close and there was still no baby in sight, Tenten’s frustration reached its all time high. She had a rage-filled crying session in her bath that night, furious over the fact that she was unwieldy and had swollen ankles and stretch marks and she couldn’t always hold it in completely when she had to use the bathroom and her boobs were sore and she got shooting pains up her back and she didn’t even fucking have her baby yet, the only reason she went through all of this in the first place.

Tenten scrubbed at her eyes, upset with herself for even succumbing to her frustrations. She could hear Neji quietly moving around in their bedroom outside the bathroom door and made an effort to be as silent as possible, not wanting to tip him off and worry him even more.

After a few minutes of calming down, she grabbed her body wash off the rim of the tub and soaped herself up, then rinsed off and started draining the tub. She did feel better now.

Tenten went into labor a little after 11:00PM that very night.

[freespiritdani]

Twist Of Fate, Part 22

Kaitlyn X MC (Venus)

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

Venus and Kaitlyn sat in the back of the limousine that was taking them back to their home after 3 grueling months in the hospital. Kaitlyn could have gone home 2 weeks after their surgeries, but she insisted on staying with Venus while she recovered from the stroke she suffered during the operation.

"Babe," Kaitlyn said, "I'm so glad we're going home together. I know you're a bit bummed about not being your old self, but you're still the same Venus I've loved since the day we met. You're still the same woman that I swore to love for all eternity. And I can make up for anything you'll never get back after the stroke."

Venus looked at Kaitlyn. "Even if making love is no longer possible?" she asked.

Kaitlyn chuckled. "Even if we never have sex again, even if our first time had been our only time, I'll always be your woman ride or die!" she replied, then added, "Besides, I can still service you no problem, and if I need service I can sit on your face....you'll just have to remember to swallow, not breathe it..."

Venus laughed and gave Kaitlyn a quick kiss. "You're such a dork, " she retorted, "but I still love you!"

Kaitlyn kissed her back. "I know."

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

Becca, Chelsea, and Annelise were waiting at the end of the ramp of the McCarron-Liao house when Venus and Kaitlyn got out of the limo. Becca and Annelise went to help Venus when Chelsea spoke up and said, "I wouldn't try that, girls. You know her better than that," then smiled and handed Venus a walker.

Venus smiled and took the walker. She then looked at Becca and asked, "She still inside brooding?"

Becca nodded her head. "I thought she'd take that divorce decree better than that. Especially after what happened."

Venus started painstakingly making her way up the ramp. "Becs, I don't think that's quite all of what's eating at her," she said, giving Annelise a meaningful look. She continued, "Give me about fifteen minutes of Mama time alone with her, then you four slip in, okay?" then went on up the ramp and into the house.

Chelsea asked in a confused tone, "What did she mean by that, I wonder?"

Annelise replied barely above a whisper, "I think I know...."

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

Kaitlyn, Becca, Chelsea, and Annelise eased their way into the living room through the kitchen door. Mary Grace's back was to them; Venus was facing them and shot them a quick glance. Mary Grace was talking.

"....have to admit I'm a complete and total fuckup, Mama. I followed my pussy and not my head or heart when I got involved with Rico! Now instead of working on my Ph.D. and being your G.A., I'm gonna be a single mom and gonna have to drop out and find a job to support my babies!" she cried.

Venus answered her gently, "No you don't have to drop out, baobei. You're my GA and I can have them up your stipend. You can stay here as long as you need. You can bring the babies with you because you'll have two grandmothers on campus that can watch them while you lecture. And last but not least, 'single' is your choice. If you want to be, that's fine, but you don't have to be."

"Really, Mama?" Mary Grace shot back. "I've only been in two relationships in my life, and I fucked up both times. First one I fucked up by ending it, the second one I royally fucked up by getting in it. Now tell me again how it's my choice to be single!"

Venus replied simply, "Because you still have strong feelings for your first love and you're afraid to ask her to get back together with you, that's why it's your choice."

Mary Grace leaned her head back and closed her eyes, then brought her head back forward and looked at Venus. "It's not that simple," she said. "Yes, I still have feelings for her. I love her. Truth be told, I never stopped being in love with her."

Tears began welling up in Annelise's eyes.

"But I know she won't take me back, Mama," Mary Grace said sadly. "After we broke up, I hooked up with a man. I am now pregnant by that man. There is no way in hell she's going to take me back!"

The tears were flowing down Annelise's cheeks now. She walked over and stood next to Mary Grace.

"The only one stopping her from taking you back, Gracie.....is you," Annelise said. "I love you very much, Mary Grace McCarron-Liao, and I always have, and I always will. We've been bestest friends all our lives, even after we foolishly decided not to be lovers any more. But, even though we were trying to hide our relationship from the world, I was always happiest when I was with you. I want that back. I want you back. If you want me back, I'm here for the taking."

Mary Grace rose slowly and faced Annelise, tears flowing from her own eyes. "You mean that?"

"Yes."

"Even after all that's happened since? After all I've done?"

Annelise took Mary Grace's hands in her own and whispered, "Yes. Babies and all. Do you want me back? For keeps this time?"

Mary Grace threw herself into Annelise's arms and hugged her tightly. "Oh yes, Annie! Yes yes yes!"

"I know Mom is going to slap me for asking this, saying it's too soon, but... Will you marry me and be my wife?" Annelise asked.

"YES!!!!!"

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

FOUR MONTHS LATER

"What the hell is taking so long???" Kaitlyn asked impatiently.

Becca started laughing. "Now you know how we felt when you were popping Mary Grace out!" she exclaimed. "And remember, she's having twins!"

"Where the hell is everybody else???" Kaitlyn demanded.

"Vee and Gabriella are over there napping, Chelsea's the OB delivering, Annelise is with Mary Grace, and the rest are on their way" Becca replied.

"Didn't you call them four hours ago? That should've been plenty of time!!" Kaitlyn growled.

"She went into labor a month early, Liao! Everybody, including your mother, is out of town!"

Chelsea came into the waiting room in surgical scrubs. Kaitlyn rushed over to her and asked, "How is it going? Is she doing okay?"

"Well," Chelsea said, surpressing a smile, "Michelle went into distress, so we did an emergency C-section. She and Joanne are doing just fine, as is their mother."

Venus got up from her chair. "Can we see them?"

Chelsea smiled and nodded, then said, "Come on, Grandma! Grandkids to spoil await us!"

[amuletrebel]

When We Meet Again Ch. 1

AO3 Link / FF.net Link

Summary:  Rachel Gardner, a brilliant archaeologist, goes deep into the jungle to research an ancient civilization. Finding a tomb deep underground, she accidentally awakens a serial killer who was cursed to sleep for eternity. But after he awakens, Rachel discovers she's the reincarnation of someone he knew and swore to protect. She must hide his existence from everyone to ensure his own safety, and maybe learn something about him and her past life.

Rachel Gardner ignored the pleas of her fellow researchers as she ventured further into the Melica Jungle. It was said to be a vast well of knowledge for archaeological research, inhabited thousands of years ago by an intelligent civilization known as the Himates. However, exploring such uncharted territory proved to be quite the feat. Rachel had narrowly avoided snake pits and quicksand. She expertly avoided very well-made traps on her journey. These facts led her to believe she was close to her destination. From her notes, the Himates liked to be an isolated and independent civilization, deterring any foreign presence whenever possible.

She didn't mind going into the unexplored terrain alone. Her many journeys, from the deep slopes of the Grand Canyon to the scorching heat of the Sahara, had toughened her up enough to withstand the harshest conditions and most treacherous threats. Add that to the fact that she didn't exactly fear death. Even stuck in her musings, Rachel managed to tiptoe around a handful of spike falls that were cleverly hidden. She was well-versed in setting traps, for reasons she never discussed with anyone.

The archaeologist treading through the trees carefully, looking back to only see thick foliage. She had gone far off the trail, and her colleagues were nowhere in view. She couldn't hear them, even if she strained her ears. Huffing a quiet sigh, Rachel continued her journey, using the hunting knife she had equipped to cut through extra thick bushes and clearing the way for her. At the end of the tree line, a same cave came into view. Her blue eyes were transfixed on the structure as she climbed her way out of the forest and to open space.

Brushing a strand of blonde hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear, the young woman reached inside the bag at her hip to pull out her journal and pen. She noticed the multitude of symbols etched onto the outer lips on the cave. They seemed to give off a hostile aura, warning newcomers of the impending danger ahead. The shapes swirled and curved in waves that seemed to ask the reader of the texts to turn back and never return. They even depicted deadly mythical monsters, with horns and giant claws, and a sort of fire. However, Rachel already made her way past the ancient jungle traps, so she proved to have the intellect necessary to outsmart the ancient Himates. She jotted the symbols down to translate later, then swiftly closed her book and tucked it back in its proper place.

With a firm resolve, the blonde woman walked forward, her dirty brown hiking books stepping from soft dirt to hardened stone upon passing the cave's entrance. She kept silent to listen to the occurrences surrounding her. The breeze from the outside whistled softly as it blew through the entrance, moving tiny pebbles and speckles of dirt around gently. When Rachel made her way a few yards into the cave, she stopped and closed her eyes. In her mind, she could see events that took place thousands of years ago, in this very cave. It was one of her talents; to close her eyes and let the locations and artifacts speak to her with images of their ancient history in her mind's eye.

She envisioned the ghosts of ancient people with slightly darker skin tones than her passing her by as they went about their unknown routines. She noticed the thin white clothing, showing just enough skin to remain unbothered by the elements. A majority of their clothing was white, to reflect the light of the scorching sun. Most of them wore silver accessories, armlets and usekh collars. Only the occasional man or woman had their accessories in gold. They were dressed a little more elegantly than others, symbolizing their possible higher status. It seemed menial labor fell on the lower class; the ones in silver carrying baskets and heavy bowls packed with food, spices, or anything valuable to their cultures. The ones in golden carried incense jars and feather fans; much lighter but equally valuable objects. Rachel deduced the cave held an altar somewhere inside, dedicated to one of their gods.

The archaeologist opened her eyes, the figures gently wisping away with the breeze. She took out her journal again, jotting down images from her visions. She focused further ahead afterward. The cave appeared to go much further. Rachel carefully made her way into the depths, flickering on her flashlight once natural light no longer shone where she was heading. She observed the cave's walls, studying the symbols and artwork that lined that stone. Whoever drew them must have had excellent precision to make sure perfect art. The air around her slowly became colder, the draft nipping at her arms. She nonchalantly rubbed her skin to generate heat and bring down the rising goosebumps.

Rachel reached what she believed was finally the back on the cave. A dusty and deteriorated altar stood atop a small set of natural stone steps. The Himates were intelligent, using the cave's pre-existing curves and slopes to build their place of worship. She studied the room, taking in the exquisite detail. She could vividly picture the room in its original state; flames flicking from candles on the golden candelabras and a white stone decorated in fine cloth with expensive materials sitting atop.

The young woman was entranced by the structure, the technology, the history. She was captivated by the history of these people. She loved getting lost in the past; a much simpler time with everyone doing their part to survive and thrive. She wished the modern world could be more like that. Unfortunately, Rachel was stuck in her musings. She unknowingly backed up as she pored over the drawings and writing on the walls of the cave, trying to decipher the god that was worshiped at this specific altar, possibly learned why it was isolated to this cave. Her elbow knocked into the wall behind her. Oceanic eyes widened as she felt her appendage sink into the wall.

A trap?!

Rachel jumped slightly as the cave began to quake, taken mildly by surprise. The tremors knocked her off balance, causing her to yelp softly when her rear hit the cold stone ground. The vibrations slowly calmed, and the woman blinked, carefully rising to her feet. An opening in the floor revealed a long staircase leading into pitch black. She weighed her options; go further to either make a great discovery or meet her end, or she could turn back and never mention the hidden stairwell in her reports. One foot forward and her flashlight pointed towards the stairs was enough to let anyone know she had chosen the former.

The journey down was quite a trek, her knees weakening the farther she descended. But she wasn't one to give up so easily. Without a proper perception of time, the time it took until her feet finally touched flat land fell like hours. The blonde's eyes widened to see a small room at the bottom, dimly lit by a strange light that seemed to come from within the stone walls. But she couldn't take the time to meticulously explore everything. But she didn't want anyone to find the cave's hidden room and cover the entrance back up without realizing her whereabouts, leaving her trapped.

The walls were covered in dust and vines that seemed to thrive under the conditions the underground room provided. So she couldn't appropriate see what lay underneath. However, one thing in the room caught her eye, and for good reason. A rusty sarcophagus lay flat on a slightly raised platform. It was nowhere near as elegant or sophisticated as one from the Egyptians, for example. It looked as if it was purposefully neglected, as a sign of disrespect to whomever laid within. There were no decorations or symbols to tell of who exactly was inside. There was only a single line of Himatean inscription. Unfortunately, she hadn't translated those specific words yet.

A silver lock rested on the sarcophagus, seemingly untouched. It wasn't rusted like the rest of the piece but appeared fairly new. A beautiful ruby rested in the center, its gleam beckoning her forward. Rachel slowly reached out, hypnotized by the lock's glow, as if something was resonating in her soul and pleaded with her to touch it. Her pale fingertips barely grazed the surface, but a single touch was enough to completely shatter the lock. It fell to the ground with a loud clunk. The archaeologist instinctively backed away as the lid popped open a crack, a thick cloud of dust pouring out.

Rachel coughed as she inhaled the musky hair, using her arm to cover her mouth and nose. The dust cloud, which reminded her of a fog, slowly cleared. The tomb was wide open, a heavily bandaged arm holding it steady. A figure slowly sat up inside the sarcophagus, heavily bandaged from head to toe. She wasn't one to believe in the dead being resurrected, but as she rose to her feet with unconsciously trembled legs, the impossible was seemingly more and more possible.

Rachel attempted to calm her rapidly beating heart down with observations, facts. Anything to ground her. The figure was definitely male, his frame still perfectly outlined depicted the many layers of wrappings. His ebony hair looked fluffy and silky smooth, as if he handed been risen from the dead. Finally, his eyes opened, revealing they were heterochromatic. One was a hazel brown and extremely dilated; the other was a piercing gold, illuminated even in the low light.

She watched at the...creature turned his head towards her. She slowly calmed herself down, curiosity overshadowing any sense of fear. She looked into his eyes, which bore confusion. Then she watched as his eyes widened the longer their eyes were locked. Beneath those layers of bandages, Rachel could hear a single word escape his foreign tongue.

"Rasella…?"

Who?

To be continued...

Also, HUGE shout out to @galacticpotatoes for sketching some beautiful art of this AU! Which you can find here!

[strikecommanding]

rein wanting to have a baby with a s/o who’s much smaller than him so it’ll be difficult

well i asked for daddy reinhardt and y’all delivered :’D

---

“Just a little more, liebling.”

You whined but tried to tough it out, knowing how much this meant to Reinhardt. To brace yourself against the painful stretch of his cock filling you, you dug your nails into his forearms hard enough to draw little pinpricks of blood. The sensation was a mere kitten’s scratch to the giant as he pressed on, intent on having you take him entirely. Your insides were practically choking him the further he pushed in, and it didn’t feel nearly as good as it sounded hypothetically. Neither of you were enjoying this, you more so. As another inch slipped past your tight hole, which was already straining so much to accommodate him, you swore you felt a tear and immediately began beating your fists against his chest. “I can’t, I can’t! It hurts, Reinhardt, take it out!”

“All right,” he replied, hurried but gentle, as he slowly pulled out of you. The incident had been so unpleasant that he was actually starting to soften, which made for an easier exit. But neither of you would be finishing satisfied. Your face was bright red and covered in a light sheen of sweat as you panted hard from the effort of having to endure, and Reinhardt smoothed the back of his hand over your cheek. “It’s all right. We’ll stop.”

Your hands held onto his wrist, such small, dainty things that the two of them together couldn’t even wrap around his entire wrist. The issue of your impressively petite stature had always been a bit of a problem since Reinhardt took you away, even more so when you were still unwilling. But by this point, he’d broken you in enough to behave, but your body still couldn’t yield to his in this context. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “It’s just… you’re too big.”

What used to be a direct boost to his ego now simply exacerbated his frustration. Still, he wore his signature charming and disarming smile to put you at ease. “I understand. We will just… try again another time. We still have time to start our family.”

You fidgeted beneath him, your thumbs stroking his skin with pensive uncertainty. Finally, you brought your big, round eyes up to him and admitted, “I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to start a family, Reinhardt… I-if I can’t even take you, I’ll never be able to get pregnant…”

Reinhardt’s jaw tightened at the thought, but he couldn’t say it had never occurred to him before. On every occasion the two of you had tried, you were just too small and tight to take him. And when you could stand to have him inside of you for longer than a few minutes, the sensation was too unpleasant for him to keep it up. It felt like every power in the universe was telling Reinhardt he was fated not to have children with you and pass along his genes. But he was nothing if not persevering. In the midst of your quiet babbling of apologies, he brought a thick finger to your lips to silence you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and murmured, “I understand.”

---

The second Reinhardt made up his mind, he had to act on it. He’d told you that you had time for your family to start, but the reality was he felt he was already way behind schedule. He wasn’t exactly a young man anymore, and his line of work had him in constant danger that jeopardized the time he had left. If he wanted this, he needed to do it now.

He allowed a few days to pass since your last attempt, giving you that time to expel the incident from your mind and be at ease. During that period, Reinhardt had reached out to Brigitte. The girl was an angel who cared about his physical health as much as she cared for the condition of his armor, so he knew she would be able to get for him the items he’d requested: muscle relaxants and sleeping pills. Under the impression they were for him, she handed them over without a second thought.

Getting the pills in your system without your knowledge was as easy as breathing. He insisted on handling the food and making all the meals after that, and you always enjoyed his cooking with gusto. It took all of an hour and a half after dinner for you to doze off in Reinhardt’s arms while you were sitting on the couch together. As he carried you off to the bedroom, he couldn’t help but notice how relaxed you were. It wasn’t an unexpected result, considering what he fed you, but it was just such a foreign feeling. Whenever he had you in his bed, you were usually so tense with fearful anticipation. Now, you were completely at ease, like you belonged there and you knew it.

“So sweet,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t even stir. He undressed you slowly, tenderly, and spread your legs as he procured a bottle of lube from the bedside table. As always, he used a generous amount in prepping you.

Tentatively, he slipped a finger inside of you and waited to see if you would react, even as deep in slumber as you were. He thought he saw a twitch in your expression, but it softened soon enough. Even with just a single finger, your face normally would have twisted into a pained grimace as your body involuntarily clenched down on him. Now, not only did you look completely at ease, but you seemed capable of taking in more. Reinhardt added another finger and sunk them both in to the knuckles before starting a gentle pace.

Soft moans slipped from your parted lips, but you made no noise to indicate that you were rousing from your sleep. Reinhardt could feel his own arousal growing at the sight of your unwitting pleasure, and he palmed himself through his pants before getting rid of his clothing altogether. Now bare and hovering over you, he lined up the head of his cock with your drenched hole.

He moved as slowly as always, parting your velvety folds with his girth. He held his breath as he started to sink in, as if expecting you to suddenly reanimate and cry and push him away. Instead, you remained where you lay, though your skin was flushed and your breathing had become considerably more labored. But your body was taking him excellently, and for the first time, he felt pleasure rather than discomfort as he became one with you.

“Perfect,” he praised you quietly, stroking your face with loving reverence as he carefully began moving his hips. You hadn’t taken all of him, not yet, but he couldn’t take it slow any longer. He had to have you roughly, animalistically, and right now.

Gently taking hold of your hips, he shifted you up against him and inadvertently sank himself in deeper, making you moan so loud he thought you were waking up. When you didn’t stir after that, Reinhardt positioned himself to thrust into you with all the passion he wished he could have given you ages ago. Thanks to the muscle relaxants, you had become the perfect fit for him. Rather than constricting and uncomfortable, your walls were so warm and welcoming as they hugged as much of his cock as he could thrust into you. You were taking him so well that he chanced pushing you further.

He wanted to experience you completely, wholly, and this desire filled his mind as he attempted pushing in all the way to the hilt. It quickly became clear that your body would never be capable of that, no matter how drugged up you were. Instead of the pleasure of sheathing himself within you entirely, Reinhardt was rewarded with something entirely different but equally, if not more, arousing: the sight of a slight bump in your belly, just below your navel. Experimentally, he pulled his hips back and watched the bump disappear. Then, when he thrust back in with just a bit more force, the bump was present again, and slightly more prominent.

Reinhardt groaned pleasurably and started a gentle but consistent pace, watching himself penetrate the deepest parts of you. Your body rocked with his movements and you moaned softly with each thrust, and he could only wish that you were conscious to see how absolutely delectable you were right now. But at the reminder that you would have to wake eventually, he picked up the pace to work himself towards a quick end.

“Just a little more, liebling,” he cooed at you, remembering how badly things had gone the last time he used that line. Now, however, you were taking him perfectly, like he knew you were always meant to. He could feel a certain budding euphoria in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and he had to brace one massive hand against the mattress beneath him as the feeling overwhelmed him. His other hand tentatively palmed the bulge appearing in your belly. The pressure was foreign and extraordinary all at once, and it was enough to finally bring him to orgasm.

Reinhardt held you close as he emptied himself inside of you, groaning your name and gasping soft “I love you”s the whole time. When he had finished, he didn’t pull out right away. He even angled you slightly to make sure that every drop of his seed oozed into your willing womb.

“You did so well,” Reinhardt murmured adoringly as he stroked your still-sleeping, pristine face. “Our family will be beautiful.”

[elaianna]

Treason

"I've introduced you to those with me. Why don't you introduce me to the reason you've brought an army to my doorstep, Lord Highshoal?"

"Why official matters of course, a Lord should not travel without proper protection I'm sure you understand. We simply could not be so careless."

"You have that many enemies, Lord Highshoal? When I was just a Baroness, as you are just a Baron now, I only traveled with a small entourage. It draws less attention. Highly recommended."

That should have been the warning for Elaianna. It should have been at that point that she had told Nallaen to go and find her daughters. It should have been then she begun to warn people over the communication devices to prepare for the worst, to prepare for evacuating those that needed it. Yet she had delayed, trying to get to the root of the problem. She had tried to gather fact before acting too rashly. While a boon in most cases, it was a flaw in this particular one.

"They are for future protection, and yours of course."

"Is that the official business you are here for, Lord Highshoal? To offer me your protection?" she inquired with a passive expression and a tone of neutrality. A wall was up on the Duchess's countenance, not giving the man an inch.

They were his assurance. The furthest thing from her protection.

"Well I would insist on it- you'll need ample protection for your travel." Travel? Oh how fun it was being coy and giving half the story to force her into the trap of asking by what he meant.

"I have no intention of traveling in the near future, Lord Highshoal. I've plenty of business to keep me here," she responded. "Whatever your source was that proclaimed otherwise was amiss. You should take that up with your source of information."

Yet another red flag. The should have, would have, could haves all replaying in Elaianna’s mind as she went over the night’s events. She felt a sickening twist in her gut, having only parting reassurances over the communication devices, and no true knowledge on if Nallaen had been successful in spiriting away her daughters. If only she had acted sooner, then she’d know.

Ah, the time was right. Perfect, absolutely perfect. "Actually-" Lord Umber paused, pulling up his official letter marked with the seal and signature of Lord Stormsong. "Ahem!" The Lord all but announced numerous times with a deep clear of his throat. "By order of Lord Stormsong, protectorate of Stormsong Valley, speaker of Sea and Tides, you are hereby under arrest for treason against the good people and Lord of the Valley." He'd turn the page, place it on the table then slide it forward.

Whether good or bad luck, Thomas was not there. He was at sea. The Lord only had one of the Stalsworth’s. Her husband was still there not just for the House, but their family, and their Company. Some would argue they were one in the same. Such were the immediate thoughts through her mind as she told Nallaen that he hadn’t much time to waste. The girl’s would have to go as they were. Pajamas for the journey. Admirable as it was that he wanted to get the girls in something more travel worthy, time was not on their side.

That was when her guard, Kaitlyn spoke, breaking her usual solemn silence.  EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME!?" Her hand was immediately on her sword as she was ready to behead him at Anna's word. She just needed that word.

Elaianna's hand rose up and to the side, blindly moving in a single gesture to the general Kaitlyn-sword-area in silent motion to stay her hand. “Find my husband and my children in my absence. They’ll need it. This has just begun,” she requested of Kaitlyn over the communication stones. Their private connection had been her way to plead with her guard to look after those other than herself. She stared at the decree. "What treason have I committed?" she demanded, before her gaze shot back to the Lord, dove grey eyes hard as steel.

Kaitlyn immediately removed her hand, though the look in her eyes was clear. If that fat fuck made a wrong move, she'd end him.

While they could have taken care of the Lord then and there, there was an army at their door. Literally. What would it have cost them? Stormhollow’s people? Nerina? Aberdeen? Elaianna’s compliance was the only way she saw to buy her family and her people time to get to safety. This was her mess, and she had to fix it.

"I believe it says quite clearly right here," Lord Umbert leaned forward. "Betrayal of oath, unlawful claimant of labor crew, occupying lands, aaand...well it goes on, Miss Nesbitt, you get the jist." When Kaitlyn rose her voice in protest the Lord sat backwards, his knight immediately dropping his hand to his own blade while the tidesage beside him took up arms readily.

"Stalsworth," she corrected. "Lady Stalsworth." She looked over the decree before tossing it back on the table. "I swore no oath to Lord Stormsong. In fact, he was rather absent after my inheritance of Stormhollow." Her lips pursed. "As for unlawful claimant of labor crew? ...The unlawful claimant is declared by your Lord. I've denied him my people as slaves.”

"Stalsworth, Nesbitt, it doesn't matter at this point, traitor-" Lord Umbert waves his hand in disgust, done with the drabble he now perceived her as, the veil being lifted from his grand performance. "Your family was granted this land in good faith by Lord Stormsong under their oaths of fealty and you have broken trust, and they are not slaves woman, mind your tongue- they are privileged servants brought to bountiful work with ample returnings for their labor, to which you disturbed. Lord Carston-" The knight behind Lord Umbert nodded, stepping forward at a raising hand. "See the traitor to irons."

The iron bit against Elaianna’s wrists. With her shoulders squared back, even in shackles, she had managed to maintain some semblance of dignity even in the face of the situation. Such posture was gone as she felt the ache in her muscles from hours in the forced position of arms behind her back. She had gotten out of bad situations before though. Surely she’d get out of this one. 

But what of her people?

"Ah but of course one more matter-" Giddy Lord giggle.

Elaianna planted the heels of her shoes into the floor and looked over her shoulder, narrowing her gaze. "What matter?”

Captain Clewance glanced at Lord Highshoal with silent ire, he squinted in anticipation.

Lord Umbert saved the best for last, the desert, the tasty bits, the lip smacking eight-piece tender combo- Producing another document, Lord Umbert unfurled the letter and placed it on the table, speaking of it as if he'd memorized it. “By further decree, Lord Stormsong appoints myself, Lord Umbert Highshoal, to the station of protectorate of the territory of Stormhollow until trial’s end, and/or, replacement deemed necessary. All persons native born or who shall remain in Company or House of the traitor Ellaiana Nesbitt-Stalsworth are hereby further conscripted into service to House Highshoal and the territory of Stormhollow until further notice and are subject to new laws…”

Sabine had dropped all pretense of being cordial as she glowered at the man. When he made his announcement, she lurched to her feet and slapped her palms on the table,"CAREFUL, my lord. Not all who work for the company are subjects of Kul'tiras and to take them would be a mistake."

"Then they may leave my little crumpet, but those that remain in employ work for me now."

"They work for the Duke Stalsworth," Elaianna declared over her shoulder. "And the Duchy's heirs."

"No...they used to, ta-ta my dear."

"They may tolerate you here, but never forget, you're nothing more than dirt on the heel of their boots," she managed to say before she was forcefully shoved out of the room. Once out of the room, she righted herself as much as a Lady in shackles could, to walk with as much dignity and grace as she could, chin in the air. Carston, the tidesage and the handful of men that had accompanied Lord Highshoal inside Stormhollow Castle escorted the Lady through her own halls, and into a carriage outside locked from the outside, for transportation. Kaitlyn followed the men taking her lady away as she wanted to keep her well in sight until it was no longer a viable option. This was the depth of her loyalty.

As Elaianna was 'guided' into the carriage, she gave Kaitlyn a last look. "Thank you, friend." Not Miss Cavanaugh. Not Guard. Not Kaitlyn. Friend. It was then that the door was shut, severing the last look both women had of one another. 

Sabine ground her teeth as she watches the Duchess led out of the room and moved to make her own exit," Right then, I will go and inform them now, then... Lord Protectorate."

Clewance ground his teeth, swallowing indignation. He gathered his papers to distract his mind. “I would have leave as well, my Lord.” Clewance glanced at his men nervously, wishing to be on the sea without delay.

Elaianna would have been all the more restless and plagued with dread if she knew what had happened then. If she had known what happened to her Harbor Mistress and Captain. 

Ignorance is bliss, or so they say.

@atc-wra @tirasiansails @thomasstalsworth @eidrich-crone @korduun @gloryofsteel @wrahaleth (mention of Nerina)

[bastetwrites]

Welcome home

I want to thank my awesome beta for helping me with this @imaginal (thank you for dragging me to adashi hell, I love it).

Summary:  When everything was said and done, the only thing Adam wanted was to welcome Takashi home.

Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Adashi)

Warnings: Angst, Character death and depression

On Ao3 

It had been almost two months since he left but Adam could still feel his absence. Hard.  Day 46 without Shiro was, surprisingly harder than day 1. All because now he was painfully aware of how much Shiro, and to some extent Keith too, were parts of his daily routine.

He no longer woke up to the smell of recently brewed coffee and Shiro singing off key in the shower, nor to the sound of laughter and chatter coming from Keith and Shiro in the kitchen while preparing breakfast on weekends.

He had to get used to preparing food for one and forgot to stop buying the sweets Shiro loved but he himself detested. Every damn time.

There were no more small and colorful post it notes with “I love you” or the random flirty phrase hidden on his things. He could never bring himself to throw away the box he’d saved all the previous ones in either.

Adam had always had trouble sleeping, and now sleeping alone was harder. The steady rhythm of Shiro’s heart and the comforting weight of his arm around his middle was missing. He didn't even have the comfort of smelling Shiro on the pillows when trying to sleep at night. It was long since gone. He seemed to be fading little by little from their, his home.

And Keith, gods he wasn't sure what to do about Keith any more. Weekly visits with Keith now consisted on both ignoring their issues during a somewhat quiet lunch. The worst was that Keith was getting into more fights lately and had been reported acting strange “He spaces out a lot and is running a shorter temper than usual” had been the exact words. Adam felt as if he was failing Keith too, but he had no clue as to how approach the issue.

Adam was mad at Shiro for leaving, at himself for returning him his ring and at both of them for not setting things right before he left. He missed Shiro, badly. His absence made him realize that despite the decision he took, Adam still loved Shiro. Shiro was it for him. He swore once he came back he would make things right, apologize and not let him get away from him ever again. Even if he had to follow him into space. He would make the most out of whatever time they had left together if Shiro would let him.

That was his plan, of course, until five minutes ago when he saw the announcement in the news. Shiro was dead. The mission had failed. He punched the wall, then the TV. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and his knuckles were stained with blood. At some point he had broken the table and trashed the rest of the kitchen. That's how Veronica found him 20 hours later, sitting in the middle of the messy kitchen, staring off into the wall with bloody hands.

A bath, a warm meal and some cleaning later they were both sitting on his couch. Veronica had been a godsend at the time, helping him put his shit together enough to get up and do something.

“Oh Adam, you can't do this to yourself. We are gonna talk to the Commander and ask for some time off for you. You should take Keith with you.”

His eyes went wide at the mention of Keith. “Oh my… Keith! Is he okay? Have you heard from him?”

She squeezed his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “He didn’t take the news well. He has been kicked out of the Garrison and must be packing his things right now. I already asked and the decision is final.”

True to her word he found Keith half an hour later making his way to the exit, things in hand. Adam silently took some of them off his hands and loaded them on his bike. He felt a constricting pain on his chest the moment they finished.

“When Veronica told me you were leaving I figured you would go back to your old place and...I am… not in the best shape right now Keith, but you can stay with me whenever you want to and still visit on the weekends. You know that right?”

Keith finally looked at him and Adam noticed the red of his eyes and the tired but resolute look on his face. Keith gave him a tiny smile and the pain on his chest increased a bit.

“Thank you Adam, I’ll keep it mind but I… I don’t think I’m coming back soon Adam; something is calling to me in the desert and I really need to get out there right now.”

The look Keith was giving him made Adam make up his mind. If living alone in the desert was what Keith needed then so be it.

“Keith... I don’t understand completely but… I won’t stop you. If you really think living in the desert for a while will help you, then I support you just… send me a message every other day so I know you are still alive over there and… call me on the weekends?”

Keith gave him a nod and a quick hug and left the building.

Messages were spare but Keith still sent him an update every once in a while.

He never saw him again though.

Next year was a blur for Adam. After the short leave he took he went back to teaching and started asking for more assignments outside the Garrison. Maybe Keith was right and some distance will do him good. The anger and sadness slowly went away, he only felt numb now. There was a hole in his chest and he didn't know how to fill it so he threw himself into his job and tried to get his life back together with some help from Veronica. The no-nonsense woman became his pillar of strength through the year.

Adam was away when the ship crashed by the Garrison. He didn’t get wind of what happened until weeks later.

Takashi was alive but gone to who knows where, with Keith this time and even though Adam was not exactly happy this was the first time in two years that he could breathe again. A weight lifted off of his shoulders. He cried himself to sleep that night, this time from relief instead of sadness or frustration.

He told Commander Iverson the next day that he no longer wished to get assignments outside of the Garrison. If - when- Takashi returned, he would be there to see it.

Time passed faster than expected and Adam’s life seemed to be on track again. He went back to teaching full time, his apartment no longer felt alien to him and his friendship with Veronica and the other teachers was as strong as ever.

When Sam arrived almost two years later and told everyone what was going on in space, Adam felt oddly disconnected through the debriefing. Shiro was in space with a bunch of teenagers and an alien princess piloting giant kitty robots and saving the universe and Adam never felt so small in his life before. When the meeting ended he threw up in the bathroom.

He knew he was being selfish but he wished he could offer that kind of adventure and fulfilment to Takashi on Earth. Shiro always seemed to want more, to be meant for more. Being the leader of Voltron was perfect for Shiro.

When shit hit the fan and the whole world found out about the aliens, there was a message for him from Keith. Only from Keith.

“Hey Adam… it's being a while. Sorry for not calling… or texting, there is no data plan in space. But I'm okay, so don't worry.”

There was no message for him from Shiro. That’s ok, Adam thought, because Shiro was alive. And maybe he wouldn’t be coming home for a while and maybe they wouldn’t be together anymore as a couple or even as friends but Shiro was alive and Keith was with him and after everything Sam had told them Adam was more than ready to help. Maybe Shiro and Keith wouldn’t be coming home to him, but Adam would do anything in his power for there to still be a place for them to return to.

Then the Galra arrived and Adam got on a ship, ready to fight for Shiro and Keith, for himself and Veronica, for everyone on the Garrison and for Earth.

The fight didn’t last more than a few minutes, their ships were useless against the Galra cruisers and Adam watched his comrades, his friends, fall one by one to the canons. When the blast hit him, he lost consciousness for a few moments. It wasn’t a direct hit, but Adam crashed down hard and fast.

When he woke up, Adam knew he was a dead man.

He could see the sky and the Galra ships from what was left of the right side of his ship. He couldn’t feel his legs and there was blood all over the place. He tried not to take a look at his legs, afraid of what he would or would not see. The heat he felt at his back told him the ship was most likely burning. He tried to move his left arm but couldn’t, it was pinned down to the seat by a piece of metal and he could feel the bile coming up his throat at the sight of it. His right arm and hand were miraculously still functioning, but moving them was too much of a task. He barely had the energy to move his fingers.

His vision was starting to blur and his strength was draining away, but still, Adam tried and failed to take out the single picture he always carried with him in his jacket. Unable to move anymore, tears started to run down his cheeks from both pain and frustration. His breath was labored and he could feel himself starting to lose consciousness again.

“Takashi…”

The picture was old, from over five years ago, and showed a much younger Adam, hand in hand with an equally younger Shiro, eating ice cream and smiling widely with matching blushes tinting their cheeks. It had been their first date.

“... Sorry…”

Adam could only think about the picture, and how he wished he could see Takashi’s smile one last time. He thought about not being able to welcome Takashi home and closed his eyes.

“...Love you.”

Back in the Garrison, Adam’s vitals went black.

[asroarke]

Those of you who follow my shenanigans regularly already know that I hit one million words on ao3 last night. Today, I’m kicking off my celebration by highlighting every single one of those one million words as I shamelessly self promote all 24 works that got me to this number.

Matched

“If this ends badly, I blame you.”

“I got you onto one of the most popular dating shows on TV where they basically guarantee that they’ll find your soulmate. If this ends badly, it’s on you, sweetheart,” her mom snapped back with a smile.

Reality Show AU where everyone has a perfect match in the house and if everyone finds their perfect match by the end, they win one million dollars.

Rated: M | Chapters: 18/18 | Words: 78,309

Mismatched

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” Clarke whispered, knowing what happens if you’re a perfect match on this show. They were going to have to pack up and move into the honeymoon suite… together. She would have to spend eight weeks trapped in a hotel room with Bellamy.

“We hate each other,” Bellamy whispered, not taking his eyes off the screen, as his face was covered in disbelief.

An alternative version of Matched where Bellamy and Clarke find out they’re a perfect match toward the beginning of the competition.

Rated: E | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 27,032

Medici Magic

“Are we really going to do this again this summer?”

“Are you referring to me giving you legitimate critiques and you not being able to handle it correctly? Because if so, I really hope not. I would have hoped that we had evolved past that kind of pettiness,” he joked.

Renaissance Fair AU where our favorite delinquents spend their summer working for Medici Magic, a traveling renaissance fair.

Rated: E | Chapters: 33/33 | Words: 90,249

Wrecked

She looked out into the water, wondering where Wells’  lifeboat was, and if everyone else had gotten to safety in time. She wondered if the crew radioed for help before they jumped onto the lifeboat.

And she wondered if she was going to die on this lifeboat.

Deserted Island AU where deadly storms and dangerous wildlife were the least of their problems.

Rated: E | Chapters: 20/20 | Words: 91,319

I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway

“Why did you come over here?”

“To make sure, you know, that you know last night was just a one-time thing,” he said, looking down at his hands as he spoke.

“Message received. You can go back to your friends now,” she said, with a strange expression on her face.

Modern AU inspired by the show You’re the Worst, where Bellamy and Clarke hook up after a wedding.

Rated: E | Chapters: 11/11 | Words: 65,537

I’m Gonna Watch You Walk Away

She forgot about the fact that a man she loved just married someone else. She forgot that almost all her friends abandoned her as soon as she became known as the other woman. She forgot that people already judged her without ever meeting her. She forgot that she was in a place in life where she had to go to weddings all alone. And she willfully ignored the fact that it was becoming harder and harder for her to just hook up with someone to forget these things.

Because, as soon as it was over, all those horrible thoughts started drowning Clarke’s brain again.

Modern AU inspired by the show You’re the Worst, where Bellamy and Clarke hook up after wedding. Same story line from I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway, but this time from Clarke’s POV.

Rated: E | Chapters: 11/11 | Words: 64,519

We Can Do Better Than This

“And if we couldn’t find an apartment, maybe we could look at a house. You know, then Cleo could have a backyard,” Bellamy replied.

“A house?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy glanced back down at her, seeing a nervous expression on her face. He immediately recognized his mistake.

A follow up to I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway, where Bellamy and Clarke buy their first house.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 4,881

I’m Gonna Love You Anyway

“You were a one-night stand.”

“You and I bought a house together, Clarke. If I was supposed to be a one-night stand, you really messed that one up,” he teased, before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

She giggled, before resting her head on his shoulder. It was kind of crazy to think about the day they met. It was weird, thinking that if she had gotten what she wanted back then, she would have hooked up with him once and never seen him again. She was really glad she didn’t get what she wanted. Instead, she got what she needed.

A follow up to I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway, where Bellamy is trying to propose to Clarke, but she’s too busy roasting him to notice.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 6,595

No Longer Just Us

“Princess, Octavia and Lincoln are here,” he announced.

“Why?” she grumbled, and Bellamy threw his head back. Of course, Clarke forgot. This had become an all too common occurrence these days.

“We are wine tasting for the wedding, remember?” Bellamy reminded her, and Clarke sat up with a grumpy expression on her face, her hair messy from bedhead. She had come home from work two hours ago, a bit sleep deprived since one of her patients went into labor in the middle of the night. She immediately went upstairs to take a nap, after Bellamy reminded her for the hundredth time that Lincoln and Octavia were coming over.

“I already took my bra off,” she whined, throwing her head back.

Another follow up to I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway where Bellamy and Clarke are completely over the wedding planning nonsense and get very drunk.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2,855

Double Infinity

They were running out of time. Eighteen years had already passed. All the pieces they needed to get the job done were finally in place. And, when Wells didn’t fit, they found Clarke. He was too close to let it all fall apart now.

And he would do everything he could to make sure she walked out of this unscathed.

Modern AU inspired by Revenge, where Bellamy and Octavia are willing to do whatever it takes to find justice for their mother’s murder, even if it means using Clarke Griffin.

Rated: E | Chapters: 23/23 | Words: 142,705

Hidden Infinity

"You played me too, Clarke,” Bellamy snapped, and she didn’t hesitate to slap him across the face. He gripped her wrist tightly, shooting her a warning look… practically daring her to try that again. “You knew what I was doing, and instead of confronting me, you let me think I was succeeding. When I said I loved you, you said it back. When I proposed, you said yes. You had an active part in all of this,” he growled as if somehow what Clarke did to him could ever compare to what he did to her.

“But you played me first,” Clarke yelled, pushing him back. Bellamy lied to her first. Bellamy used her first. Clarke didn’t start this, but she was determined to finish it.

Double Infinity, but from Clarke’s POV. A Modern AU inspired by Revenge, where Clarke Griffin swore that she would stay out of the plan to avenge Mt. Weather, but got dragged into it anyway.

Rated: E | Chapters: 11/23 | Words: 58,914

Something Always Survives

Bellamy had been trapped in this place for over two years. He can’t even count how many cellmates he lost over that time, how many times he had to meet a new voice from a person he would never see… And, almost every time, he found himself telling them a story to help calm them down, to reassure them that everything was going to be okay, even when he knew it would never be okay. Clarke had been no different than the others until this moment.

She was the first one to ever try to comfort him in return. So, he whispered, “Okay,” and pressed his ear to the corner.

Modern AU loosely inspired by The OA where Clarke finds herself abducted and caged with four strangers as they all struggle to make sense of their captor’s experiments.

Rated: E | Chapters: 18/18 | Words: 74,232

50 First Proposals

“Tell her we got engaged just so we could get some cheesecake,” he smirked, and accepting the challenge, Clarke pulled out her phone and started typing away.

After that night, it just became a thing they did. Every month or so… really, whenever both of their crazy lives let them grab dinner between shifts, they would go to a new restaurant and Bellamy would fake propose. He got a little more carried away each time. Their fake proposals became an opportunity for Bellamy to unleash some of his most pent up affections for Clarke… an opportunity he desperately needed.

OR the forty-nine times Bellamy proposed to Clarke to get free dessert and the one time he didn’t care about the dessert.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2,723

Will You Tie My Shoe?

“I know, it’s silly. And I never thought I’d actually see you again, or that Madi would recognize you. She’s also convinced that she is some kind of matchmaker because she set my friends Raven and Wells up,” she rambled, looking at him with an embarrassed expression on his face.

“Is your daughter some kind of matchmaker?” he teased, and Clarke bit her lip, chuckling slightly. He liked the way her smile kept escaping even though she was trying to play it cool.

“Well, unless you fall madly in love with me, she only has a 50% success rate,” she joked, and Bellamy threw his head back in laughter.

OR the one where Madi decides to play matchmaker, and Bellamy and Clarke are totally fine with the results.

Rated: G | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 3,905

Sometimes Lightning Strikes Twice

It was ridiculous. He didn’t even know this girl’s name. All he knew was that she was pretty, that she was trying her best to be a good sport about being here probably just so her friends had fun, and that she was maybe a little bit shy. Well, and he also knew that every time she looked at him he got flustered and repeatedly messed up the blocking.

It was official. Bellamy Blake, part-time stripper and full-time overthinker, developed a crush on some blonde bride.

OR the Strip Club AU no one asked for, where Bellamy meets Clarke Griffin while working her bachelorette party, and the poor guy doesn’t have the first clue about what to do about it.

Rated: M | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2,557

Sounds Fake But Okay

“Babe, don’t be jealous,” Clarke teased, reaching her hand out. Murphy grabbed it and started swinging it as he laughed.

“Can’t help it, babe. Just love you so much,” Murphy said, still chuckling.

“You two better be able to keep a straight face when Ontari gets here, or else all of us suffered through this for nothing,” Bellamy reminded, and Clarke erupted into laughter, burying her face into Bellamy’s shoulder.

OR the fake dating fic no one asked for, where Murphy pretends to be dating Clarke, and Bellamy is fine with it. Totally fine. Does not care at all. Maybe.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 4,766

Fatal Innocence

“I’ll be fine,” she muttered, shaking her head as she opened the front door. And, there the body was, right where it fell. The others rushed in behind her. Raven took the trophy toward the kitchen, probably to wash it off. Monty and Bellamy moved toward the body, and she could see that Bellamy was thinking about using the rug to wrap him up in.

There was no way in hell that all five of them were going to get away with this.

The How to Get Away with Murder AU where they all become interns for Professor Kane, not expecting their semester to take such a deadly turn.

Rated: E | Chapters: 25/25 | Words: 184,868

Don’t Marry Him

Bellamy tried to be as supportive of a friend as he could be, reserving his own frustrations toward Finn for when he, Murphy, and Miller went out for drinks. Usually, those evenings divulged into Murphy pointing out that Finn probably isn’t as bad as Bellamy makes him out to be. Then, Bellamy would break down item by item every terrible thing he has said or done to hurt Clarke. To which, Miller would always tease him… saying that it was strange that Bellamy could list all that off so readily when Clarke was just his best friend.

Bellamy knew what they were implying, of course. And it was to the point that Bellamy stopped trying to deny it. It wouldn’t do him any good to deny it, anyway. Everyone knew how Bellamy felt. Well, everyone except Clarke, apparently.

Modern AU where Clarke was hoping that Bellamy would be excited about her engagement, and instead, he begs her not to marry Finn.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 5,291

Forget Me Not

“Am I Clarke?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy’s fear was confirmed. Clarke didn’t remember them. She didn’t recognize any of them, not even Madi. She didn’t even know that she was Clarke. He could feel Madi tugging nervously on his sleeve, and he turned to look at her scared face.

“It’s called amnesia,” Bellamy whispered, and Madi’s head tilted in confusion. “Sometimes when people hit their head really hard they lose their memories.”

Post Season Four reunion fic where Bellamy finally finds Clarke… but she doesn’t remember who he is.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 8,684

Off Guard

“You have to figure out your opponent’s weakness if you want to beat them,” he added in, and Clarke cocked her head to the side. He could see the gears turning in that head of hers as she stepped toward him. “Unfortunately for you, I have no weaknesses,” he joked, and a giggle escaped her lips.

“So, there is absolutely nothing I can do that would catch you off guard?” she asked curiously, and Bellamy cocked his head to the side… trying to figure out what was going through Clarke’s head.

“You are more than welcome to try,” he chuckled, earning a smirk from Clarke.

Royalty AU where Bellamy tries to teach Clarke how to use a sword, and she finds her own sneaky way to beat him.

Rated: G | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2,548

Whisper Your Love and I’ll Whisper Mine

“I am not happy about this either, by the way,” he sighed, recalling the horrified look on her face when she realized what the Commander was proposing. Bellamy had never planned on getting married. Octavia was enough of a responsibility. But when he debated the idea of marriage, he certainly never pictured his future fiancée would have such a disgusted reaction. Nor did he ever picture himself marrying a child of his family’s sworn enemy.

Clarke glanced up at him, wiping away a few tears. “We should have never let them marry,” was all she said, and the guilt formed a knot in Bellamy’s stomach.

A historical AU inspired by Still Star-Crossed where Bellamy and Clarke are forced into an arranged marriage in an attempt keep their families from going to war.

Rated: E | Chapters: 8/8 | Words: 47,895

Listen to Your Heart

His lips lingered against her skin for just a moment too long, and Clarke noticed that his hug was even tighter than it normally was. She kept reminding herself that this was the Olympics… and that’s all this meant for him, although she could no longer deny that her feelings toward Bellamy were strictly platonic.

“So damn proud of you, Princess,” Bellamy said seriously, his hand still resting on her back as he spoke. Before Clarke could say anything else, Kane was pulling her into a hug and whispering his congratulations.

Olympics AU where Clarke realizes that her feelings for Bellamy might be less than platonic… which is a problem since he’s her coach.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 8,609

Love Is Not a Victory March

“You could have been here four years ago,” she reminded, raising her eyebrows at him.

“No, I couldn’t have. I needed to be here with you,” he replied, and Clarke felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. It wasn’t the first time he said something like that, of course. But it caught her off guard every damn time.

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Yes, you were,” he replied, and how could Clarke not kiss him after that?

Olympics AU where a knee injury kept Bellamy and Clarke from making it to the Olympics… the first time around.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 9,214

Lie to Me

Long before he met Gina, he decided that this name didn’t mean anything. That he had a choice in this, and that he would likely choose to ignore the universe’s choice for him. After all, there were many people who went their whole happy lives without finding the person whose name showed up when they turned eighteen.

He kept his eyes on his watch, counting down the seconds until it would appear. As soon as both hands hit twelve, he flipped his wrist over. But he wasn’t lucky enough to get some stranger’s name. He knew exactly who his soulmate was.

If Bellamy needed any more evidence that soulmates were bullshit, it was right there in front of him.

Soulmate AU where Bellamy finds out Clarke is his soulmate and doesn’t tell her.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 13,880

[shadowsfiguresfigments-blog]

A good place to die Chapter 21

Warning: harsh language, violence

I couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour, but Penny was still pretty out of it. When I carefully wiggled out of the space between his arm and his shoulder, I realized he was truly asleep. There he lay, his huge form stretched out over my tiny bed, with his hands and feet dangling over the side – it was so cute I snapped a picture with my phone. Not wanting to wake him up (or has he started hibernating again? I’m not sure), I sat down at my desk and checked all the papers for the bookstore for the umpteenth time. Everything so far was ready to go – I had talked to the suppliers, Bee had helped me doing all the registration stuff which was now neatly filed away in a folder I swore to never touch again, and the bookkeeping was up to date. I had stored all of the money I had found hidden in the store as well as in the tiny apartment in a little book-safe auntie had given me, and I was positive I had enough “change” to keep the store running for half a year or so. Mr. Shank’s had never spent much, and it was now obvious he had belonged to the “I don’t trust no bank”-type of people.

I would be open for two hours every afternoon and a bit longer on Saturday. That should allow me to finish school work, study and still keep the store until graduation. Auntie surely hoped I would further improve my education, but I never felt any urge to leave Derry, and now I had a valid reason to stay.

Thinking about the opening, which would be in less than two weeks, made me slightly nervous. I wasn’t too sure if my persona would actually keep customers from coming, but on the other hand I was far more communicative since Penny had entered my life. Maybe I could do this after all.

Speaking of reasons to stay in Derry, mine just started… snoring. Well, technically it wasn’t really snoring, more like an exhausted, grunting purr, but it was loud enough to make the doors and my window vibrate. I couldn’t help myself but watch him as he slept. Despite his enormous size and the not-exactly human features there was still something vulnerable about him. The longer I stayed with him, the more details from our first encounter came back to me. He had been very aggressive back then, and wounded. I still could not fathom what that meant, but it seemed like it had left him… changed. Maybe our friendship would have never formed if that change never had occurred. Maybe he would have just granted me my wish and killed me in an instant.

Then again, I had joked about him eating me earlier today, and he had looked almost shocked at the idea. Whatever he was, I still felt no fear towards him. And I still wasn’t scared of dying or him eating me.

But I no longer craved it.

And I wanted to protect him. I didn’t care if he fed on my species (I guess I was, though I had changed a lot as well, still not exactly “human”), nor if people were scared of him.

I grabbed a spare blanket from my closet and gently wrapped it around Penny, as far as it was possible. Then I tip-toed downstairs and started to prepare dinner. There wasn’t much I knew about cooking, but I still managed some decent-smelling spaghetti tonno. Only then I realized auntie had left me a note on the table to inform me should would be late again – her boss currently did everything in his power to make her as miserable as possible. They had been two hands short for two and a half years now, and auntie was the one to fill both places while doing her regular job as well.

And it was showing. She had always been more of a plump, motherly type, but she had dropped weight quite profoundly. Her skin was sagging, and the tired bags underneath her eyes had become permanent. Speaking of her eyes, they had been so bloodshot as of late you could confuse her with an addict or something. I hated seeing her like that. Hopefully the bookstore would be profitable enough to allow her to stop working, at least at that horrible place. It had been alright until a couple of years ago, when the previous owner died, but now the restaurant had turned quite literally into a shithole. Only a few weeks back auntie had told me about roaches in the kitchen. She no longer ate there either.                                                                                                                                                                    

I put the rest of my dinner in the fridge and stuck a note to auntie to it. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t eat after work, but at least I could offer something home-made to her. When I checked back on Penny, he was still fast asleep (hopefully he wouldn’t stay like this for almost 30 years again), and I wrote him a note too, before I left for the store.

Once I arrived there, I made sure everything was where it belonged to. The door had been repaired (auntie had found somebody for the job, and, with my permission, paid him with some of the money from my inheritance), the store was neat and clean, and no further break-ins seemed to have occurred. Satisfied, I made my way to the back and up the stairs into the little apartment.

It smelled of old man, mold and dust. The stench was so intense I almost gagged, and I hurriedly opened all the windows. The lamps only glowed dimly when I turned them on, and I repeatedly bumped my toes on the junky that was scattered everywhere. This was actually the first time I set foot into the apartment, and it would take a lot of work to make habitable again. Mr. Shanks had kept the store in perfect order, while his home was the exact opposite: filthy and chaotic. Bits of decaying food lay scattered around and dirty rags and clothes adorned almost every bit of furniture. The windows were so dusty and covered in cobwebs they barely let in any light.

I took out my phone and made notes of everything I would need to at least clean out all the dirt. Then I started to hunt for stuff I would be able to use in the cupboards and drawers. Next to some very gross stuff, including rotting carcasses of rats and heavily stained boxer shorts, I managed to salvage a box of unused light bulbs, a roll of plastic bags, an almost empty box of rubber gloves and a flashlight, which was in surprisingly good condition and fully charged. Fully armed, I began the tedious work of clearing out the left-overs of Mr. Shanks.

I started by changing the bulbs in the small hallway, the living room and the kitchen – I didn’t feel comfortable enough to go either into the bedroom, the bath or the toilet. Thus illuminated, I proceeded by throwing all the dirty rags into a plastic bag, making my way from the hallway to the kitchen. The actual kitchen itself was tiny because an enormous, dark wooden dining table took up most of the space. The chairs around it must have been pretty old and would probably have some value if they had been properly cared for. But now they were nothing more than junk: the wood had been eaten away by bugs, and the upholstery almost entirely gone. Actually, I highly doubted they had been in use during the last five years at least, because of the shabby office chair I spotted at the end of the table. The chairs would have to be replaced, but the table still looked usable. I took a picture of it – I’d show it to Bee the next time I visited her. If she liked it, it would be one heavy thing less to remove.

By the time I had cleared the floor far enough to no longer hurt myself while walking around, the first two bags were entirely filled. Since the lamp shades really dimmed the light I removed them and threw them into the next bag – it was impossible to tell their original color, and they had a lot of spots that looked suspiciously like mold. I took a moment to stand by the window, inhaling the cold night air, and checked my phone. No news of Penny, and it would take another four hours for auntie’s shift to end. A quick look around revealed more details of the mess surrounding me: old wrappings in all sizes and colors, lots of dust and cobwebs, clothes, food, used dishes, single pages covered with unreadable notes, heaps of dead bugs, broken china and lots of other wonderful things had formed their very own universe, complete with its own scent and micro fauna.

I decided to not venture any further, but rather to try to rid all flat surfaces of all trash. That proved to be a good decision, because it took much longer than I had anticipated. It was an oddly sad job to sift through all the meaningless trinkets. To think that Mr. Shanks had once lived an active life outside the restraints of his own brain was something quite difficult for me – I had only known him as a confused, irritable old man. But here, among heaps of dirt, I was proven wrong with postcards of foreign mountains, beautiful photos of lakes and wildlife, and souvenirs from all over the world. Broken magnets with exotic sounding names of places and cities lay next to dead roaches, little key ring pendants depicting famous monuments hid beneath shards of broken glass and china, and fragments of discolored letters shared their space with old flyers and outdated newspapers. Hardly anything was whole and unbroken, and almost all the colors had faded or changed.

My labored breathing and my increasing heartbeat were the only sounds accompanying me as I threw away what remained of Mr. Shanks’ life. By the time I had freed the cupboards and the table from the burden of years, the hallway was stuffed with filled plastic bags and my clothes had turned the same grey-brown that coated the walls and the furniture. A quick glance at my phone told me it was time to return home and, to be honest, I really had no energy left to continue the tedious work.

As I bowed down to take some of the bags down to the trashcans, a sting inside my belly made me stop dead. The pain subsided a little rather quickly, but a strange queasiness remained. It wasn’t unbearable, but it still hurt enough to distract me, though I was pretty sure it couldn’t be dangerous.

Feeling somewhat irritated, I yanked at the bags piling up in front of me, and carried five of them downstairs. By the time they were safely stored inside the trashcans the dull pain had settled on a level of pain that made me long for a hot cushion to press against my belly. I hugged myself tightly as I made my way home, cursing a little under my breath. There was still no reply from Pennywise, and I wondered if he really was alright. My steps became faster and faster the more uneasy I felt, and within a minute I was jogging through the cold night.

When I finally arrived at our little house, I was completely out of breath. My lungs and my nostrils hurt from the cold air, my legs were shaking and I felt sick. I stripped down to my underwear as soon as I closed the door behind me, and hurriedly stuffed my clothes into the washing machine – fortunately the tiny storage room it was in was right next to the entrance. However, I could not completely avoid setting of little clouds of dust and dirt rising into the air, so I would have to clean the room thoroughly. The stench seemed to have dissipated into everyone of my pores, and now, against the comfy odors of my own home, was even more revolting than before.

As I could hear Penny’s sleeping grumbles even through the door of my room, I decided to hit the shower before I checked on him. Truth be told, I did not want to carry any remains of the flat into my room or my bed, and it was a relieve to feel the hot water on my cold, grimy skin. I turned up the heat as much as possible, not caring about my skin turning lobster red, and continued to distribute almost have a bottle of shower gel all over me. Only when every little part of me was covered in foam, including my hair, did I relax a little. I hadn’t realized how much my back was aching from the constant bending down, and the tension slowly faded from my shoulders. I let out an involuntary groan as I turned around and let the water flow over my belly. The pain subsided a little more, and I took the time to wash my face.

As soon as I could open my eyes again I wished I hadn’t done so. The water I was standing in was of a disgusting color, and the streams running down my body turned greyer with every inch. At least it didn’t smell the way it looked, and I hurried to cover myself in foam again. I even used the loofah auntie had given me for my birthday for the first time, only stopping when I had shed at least three layers of skin. My hair took even longer to cleanse. No matter how long I rinsed it, or how much shampoo I used, it didn’t seem to suffice. Only when the bottle was almost empty the water became more transparent, and by the time I felt clean again there was no hot water left.

The air in the bathroom had become so saturated with steam you could barely see anything. As I climbed out of the shower pain shot through my belly again, and a wave of nausea and dizziness hit me. I stumbled into the stink and desperately clutched at its slippery edge to steady myself. I felt a new sort of moisture covering my thighs while I desperately tried to figure out where up and down was. However, the steam wafting through the bathroom didn’t improve my sense of orientation, instead it added to the feeling of bewilderment and estrangement.

As if in a dream I stuck my hand between my legs and felt a hot liquid oozing out of me. I stared at my fingers, wondering about the dark blood clinging to them, unable to make any sense of the situation. A strange noise made me raise my head, and in a little clearing in the misted mirror a pair of unreal eyes stared back at me.

I turned around slowly, still very wobbly on my feet, and looked into Pennywise’s hungry yellow eyes, as he growled. Drool was covering his entire chin, his nose twitched at the scent of my blood, and he ducked the way cats do before they leap upon their prey. Madness radiated from him, and then he hurled himself towards me.