#Project Phoenix Chapter 17

[roosterforme]

Is It Working For You? Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Just in case you need to start at the beginning or visit an earlier chapter, check out my Masterlist!

Summary: Heading back to San Diego feels like going home to Bradley, and that's where he wants to stay.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Bradley was hesitant to leave your side. He had made you worry about him today, and he could see how much energy that had taken from you. The look of exhaustion on your face made him want to bundle you up in a blanket and hold you.

When Bradley saw Cam and Maria on the deck earlier, they told him that you threw up in the trash can in the communications room and almost collapsed right in front of the Admirals. Then Cam had to hold you upright until Bradley was able to engage his ESAT again.

In some way, it felt good to know the events of the day affected you so deeply. God, he loved you so much, and now he knew with certainty that you returned his feelings. But you really needed to get some rest. 

Hand in hand, he walked you back to the bunk you were sharing with a few other officers so you could take a nice hot shower. Bradley's body was starting to ache, so he headed off in the direction of his own shower, hoping to ease some of the pain in his shoulders.

Then he went to sit down in the lounge and have a conversation with Maverick. 

"Bradley," Mav said, standing and then hesitating as Bradley walked toward him. "I have so much I want to say to you. But I want to start off by saying I'm sorry. And then letting you know what an exceptional aviator and teammate you are. But I think the most important thing that you need to hear again is thank you."

Bradley took the seat across from him, and they talked. About everything. It seemed as though nothing was off limits. They talked for hours, Maverick asking about everything he had missed in Bradley's life. And in turn, Bradley found that he was curious about Maverick too. 

They stood and left the lounge on a very positive note, shaking hands and then embracing each other. "You mom and dad would be so proud of you, Bradley. I wish every day that they could be here with you."

Bradley nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to fight that uncomfortable feeling he got when he let himself miss his parents too much. He just wanted a home, somewhere he could belong. Other than his friendship with Phoenix, the first time he had ever felt like he could have something like a family was when he was with you. But Maverick was a link to his past, so he went ahead and asked the question that was in the forefront of his mind. "Maybe we could spend some more time together? I mean, nothing too crazy, just get a coffee or something next week or sometime?"

"I would like that. Why don't you drive out to the desert and check out my hangar one day soon? I'm working on some projects that might interest you, and I could probably use your help. I'd also like to hear more about your girl," Maverick said with a smile.

"I already told you, old man, she's all mine," Bradley said with a laugh. 

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

You spent the following day packing up all of the equipment you had used for the Daggers mission. Even though you had passed out early last night and slept really well, you were just exhausted. The events of yesterday had really messed with your body. Now that Bradley was safe and sound, you wanted to take him to bed with you and cuddle with him for a week. Maybe you could use some of your vacation time soon and do just that. 

For the remainder of the day, every time you saw Bradley, he kept a respectable distance from you and managed to keep his hands to himself. At first you wondered if you had done something wrong, but you could see in his eyes that you hadn't. 

"Better get used to it, Sweetheart," he told you in passing as he and Phoenix were headed out to the deck. "I promised I would behave at work, given the chance. And I'm not about to fuck this up." He held up his hands before placing them on his hips. "See? Hands to myself."

"If you stay in San Diego, I expect you to keep your hands to yourself during the day, and then after work they belong to me. So does the rest of you, especially that mustache, Lieutenant." 

Bradley chuckled, then his face turned serious. "And what if I get stationed in Virginia? Or Texas or Florida?"

You shrugged slightly. "Then we'll figure it out. But you're still mine."

Phoenix rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. "Is this the part where you guys get really disgusting with each other? Because I don't know if I can handle that. I think you should go back to sneaking around in secret." Phoenix winked at you.

"Absolutely fucking not," Bradley told her. "Don't listen to her, Sweetheart. We can be as disgusting as we want."

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

Since Bradley and Maverick had both lost their F/A-18s during the mission, they were to ride back in the Comanche transport with you. Bradley wedged himself into the seat between you and Maverick, once you had strapped yourself in, you let your fingers tangle with his.

"You should try to sleep, Baby Girl," he told you sweetly. "It's a few hours to refueling."

"I can never fall asleep on these things," you replied as the Comanche took off from the carrier deck and headed toward Hawaii. "They are so loud, even with earplugs."

"Oh, fuck, this sucks," Bradley said, grimacing at the loud noise as he tried to get more comfortable in his tiny seat and nylon straps. 

"Yeah, I have noticed that," you told him with a laugh. "It almost makes me hate flying."

He finally wiggled into a position that seemed to work for him, with his leg pressed up against yours. "This isn't flying. I'll take you up in a two seater with me, Sweetheart. Now that's flying. I'm sure Phoenix will let us use hers. Maybe I can get permission to take you to Nevada. We could try to visit my cousins, they live near a naval airstrip."

You smiled as your eyes closed. "I'd like that, Roo," you whispered as you started to fall asleep. As you dozed, you could hear Bradley and Maverick laughing softly. Something good had happened between them, and you couldn't wait for Bradley to tell you about it. But for now, you just wanted your boyfriend to enjoy having renewed his relationship with his honorary uncle. 

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

Being back at the barracks was all well and good, but Bradley was already thinking about your apartment as being cozier than his bare bones accomodations on base. He desperately wanted to head over to your place, but you'd both just landed back in San Diego an hour or so ago. He knew you needed time to call your parents, unpack and shower, so he was currently laying in bed staring at his ceiling. 

He didn't want to overstay his welcome at your apartment, since you lived with Maria and shared expenses with her. But he wanted to be with you as much as possible. You had invited him over for dinner and a sleepover, but eventually he would need to have a conversation with you about what came next. 

And on that note, he grabbed his phone from his charger and started scrolling through real estate listings. He wondered what kind of place you would like. Something big enough for you both but still cozy at the same time? That seemed like the best bet.

Yeah, he realized he was getting ahead of himself, but if he could convince the Top Gun Admirals to keep him around for good, he wanted to have a jump on his housing and get out of the barracks. And if you eventually decided to move in with him, well he wanted to make sure that he had a place that you liked and that was the right size. 

Bradley scrolled along countless listings and saved several of them to check out later. He completely lost track of time and was almost late getting to your place with his overnight bag. 

When you opened the door, you pulled him inside and wrapped your arms around his neck with a smile and whispered, "I missed you. I couldn't wait for you to get here." Bradley held you tighter against him.

"It smells good in here, Sweetheart. Are you cooking Marry Me Rooster?"

You laughed and kissed his chin. "Yes, just for you." Then you kissed his cheek and ran your tongue over the longest scar on his neck as your fingers drifted to the buttons of his Hawaiian shirt. So you wanted to do that before dinner? Worked for him. 

"Where's Maria?" Bradley asked as you tossed his shirt and undershirt to the floor and started unbuttoning his jeans. 

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes as you dipped your hand into his boxer briefs. 

"She went up to Oceanside to see her sister," you replied, and Bradley immediately walked you backward to the couch, pulling your shirt off on the way.

"Excellent. It's about time I got to be alone with my girlfriend," he murmured as the backs of your knees hit the couch and you sat on the cushions with a little bounce. Looking up at him with a sweet smile, you deftly pulled his hardening cock out of the front of his unzipped jeans and guided the tip into your mouth. You sucked him gently, just playing with the tip, and fuck if Bradley wasn't completely in love with everything you did. With heavy lidded eyes, he watched your tongue peek out and caress the underside of his length. 

"That's so fucking hot," he growled, stroking your cheek softly. You positively preened from his words and slid him in deeper until he hit the back of your throat. Bradley grunted hard as his balls hit your bottom lip and chin. You pulled him out before you could gag and slid him back in over and over again. With one hard suck, you pulled him out with a pop, and the string of saliva connecting his tip and your mouth had him absolutely throbbing. 

"Now, I want to fuck you," you told him, as you stood and shimmied out of your athletic shorts. 

"Anything for my girlfriend," he said with a smile, stepping out of his shoes and pulling his jeans off.

"Oh my God, I need to turn the stove off!" you gasped, shoving Bradley down onto the couch as you ran past him into the kitchen. Bradley laughed and settled back along the length of the couch completely naked, and waited for you to return. Even if the dinner was burned, he didn't care. He would still eat it, and it would probably taste better than anything he'd eaten since the last time you'd fed him.

"It's okay!" you announced as you walked back into the living room, climbed onto the couch and crawled up his naked body. You kissed his penis and abs on your way up to his mouth. "Now where were we?" you asked, placing soft, lingering kisses to his lips. 

"I think you were about to fuck me, Baby Girl," Bradley replied as your lips moved to his neck.

"Mmm, yes, that sounds right." 

He reached his hands up to cup your ass before squeezing you and easing your underwear down your legs. Within seconds you were sliding your warm, wet pussy down along his length. He loved that you weren't shy about what you wanted from him. 

You dug your fingers into his hair and slipped your tongue into his mouth while you bounced up and down on him. Every time your clit rubbed against his body, you moaned into his mouth. The effect was just indecent, going right to his cock.

"Fuck, you feel so good." It had been almost a week since you'd had sex, and Bradley hated that he knew you'd eventually have to go longer than that when he was deployed again. He wanted this all the time, wanted to be around you every day. 

He braced one foot on the floor and used the leverage to fuck up into you hard a few times, and you squealed in delight, grabbing onto his shoulders.

"Roo, you naughty thing. I said I wanted to fuck you, not the other way around."

"You're right, Sweetheart. I'll listen better next time," he promised as he smiled and let you set the pace once again.

As you happily rode him, he circled your clit with his thumb, just how he knew you liked it, and you moaned into his mouth again. He could live off of the sound you made as you came, your walls squeezing around him. 

"Okay," you managed in a breathy voice as you peppered his face with soft kisses. "Now you can fuck me."

Without removing himself from you, he scooped you up and tipped you the other way until you were the one on your back. He pushed your legs wide to get a good angle, wanting to hear you get vocal.

"What do you say? Think you can come again for me?" he asked, a cocky grin finding his lips as he moved slowly, decadently in and back out of you.

You just nodded and whined louder as his lips found that sweet spot on your neck, and he fucked you into the couch cushions. The extra little bounce it gave you was enjoyable for him, and he nipped at your breasts as they bounced along to the rhythm. Your incoherent babbling was music to his ears. He loved making you like this. 

He worked you into a second frenzy before he let himself go, grabbing your hips and slamming into you as his head tipped back in pleasure. When he finally eased himself out of you, he was careful to get his hand in place, preventing any of your joint cum from messing up the couch cushions. You moaned a little louder as he used his fingers to scoop up everything at your opening. Oh, he definitely had a thing for giving you creampies. He could stare at this beautiful sight all day. 

Then Bradley nearly fell off the couch as he watched you squeeze your legs together, sit up and lick his hand clean.

"God damn it, Y/N," he rasped as your tongue ran back and forth along his palm before taking his fingers fully into your mouth one at a time. "Shit, Baby Girl. How am I ever supposed to get you out of my mind?"

"You're not," you told him as you climbed into his lap. He welcomed you there and kissed you, tasting both of you on your lips.

"That's good to hear, because I will never be able to, for the rest of my life."

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

You and Bradley finally made it off the couch and helped each other get dressed. You guided him toward the kitchen table, both of his hands in yours. 

"I've decided this is a celebratory dinner, no matter what. Because even if you get stationed in another state, we can figure this thing out," you told him as he sat down in one of the chairs. 

He rubbed his thigh and smiled up at you, and you climbed onto his lap. "I'm not going to let that happen," he told you, gently rubbing circles into your lower back. "When I meet with Cyclone and Warlock next week, I'll convince them to keep me here, near you."

You stroked his scarred cheek with your fingertips and gently kissed him. "I don't care where you are, Bradley, as long as you're mine."

After some lingering kisses, you managed to get dinner on the table. And although the Marry Me Rooster was mostly cold, Bradley ate it and declared it was the best thing that had ever touched his tongue other than you. And then he set you down on the kitchen counter and cleaned up all the dishes before hauling you off to your bedroom. 

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

Just one more short chapter left! Thanks so much for reading this series, because I have loved writing it! I'm taking requests right now, so hit me up with any one-shot requests that you have to accompany this series (or even something completely different). And make sure you check out my updated masterlist to see what's next!

Here's the ending! Part 18

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun rooster #top gun fanfiction #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic

[teecupangel]

hear me out:

clay/subject 16 having a kid he didn’t know about, or perhaps maybe desmond having a second kid he didn’t know about, or even william himself somehow had the rizz to accidentally make a second kid 😭😂

I mean… when the first chapter of Black Flag’s webtoon came out, Noa is shown to have Altaïr, Eizo and Ratonhnhaké:ton as his ancestors which led to the ‘ideas’ that he could be Desmond’s son. Of course, we also thought of the idea that he can be Bill’s son as well if having Altaïr as an ancestor isn’t based on the father’s side but on the mother’s side, since he does have Japanese and Korean and one of Altaïr’s grandchildren or even an older Darim could just as easily had a paramour in Japan while they were chasing after Genghis Khan’s children/grandchildren (the easiest being in Tsushima).

So, in this case, you didn’t specify if you wanted this to be a case of Clay, Desmond or, god forbid, Bill learning they have a child which gives me an excuse to focus this on Elijah XD

For this one, we’re dealing with the canon events in the eyes of Elijah. While the whole… Layla trilogy was happening, Elijah’s been busy laying low and building some sort of super computer that used cannibalized parts from all over.

With the skills and knowledge Aita provides him, Elijah is planning to recreate the Phoenix Project, but not for Juno.

Juno was…

A prototype. Something he did under duress while he was blinded by rage and desire for revenge.

Now, he’s rebuilding it to… well, at first, it was to bring back his mother but he later learned that it was impossible.

His mother was so inconsequential to the Calculations that there wasn’t enough data about her to bring her back even if he uses his own DNA. It still wasn’t enough.

So, he decided to pivot to trying to resurrect Desmond Miles instead.

He would say it was the only logical conclusion. Desmond Miles was the human who was closest to the Isus, not like Sages like him who were haunted by the memories of those who helplessly pathetically clung to life (and yeah, he is absolutely aiming that at Aita).

And Desmond Miles had enough DNA to be recreated with the access of the Calculations…

Because Sample 17 is a complete copy of Desmond Miles’ DNA.

So… after Elijah finished the device (improved from that garbage Juno’s cult modified from Abstergo), his next course of action was to get the original Sample 17.

During his investigations of where it could be, he learned that Abstergo had been checking for more people who had interesting connection to Desmond Miles and any other Animus Subjects.

That’s how he learned that he had a younger sibling (whether this one is a sister or a son is up to you) who was being held in an orphanage under one of Abstergo’s shell companies.

Whether this child is born from a night of passion or was actually created by Abstergo itself using… other means… is up to you.

Elijah has no reason to save this child he has no connection with. For one, he already ignored Noa Kim even when he had pinged in his radar because he knew the Assassins were already dealing with that one. All he had to do was tip the Assassins off and they’d find a way to rescue this child but…

The orphanage may have other clues that will lead him to the original Sample 17.

So he infiltrates the orphanage, found the clue he needed and…

… got back to his base with three children instead of one.

…

Sooooo…

Apparently…

The death of Desmond Miles had been the final straw that destroyed whatever feelings William Miles and his wife had with one another.

Oh, sorry.

Ex-wife.

While he was grieving his son and not doing any of his responsibility to the Brotherhood, William Miles had a…

Elijah felt like he was going to hurl…

… one night stand.

He has no dealings with William Miles.

He only had heard of William Miles.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to learn about William Miles’ sex life.

Regardless, when he got to the orphanage, finished his actual work, and went to get his ‘new’ sibling, he learned that…

1. Said sibling had a friend who must come with them if Elijah wanted to whisk them away.

2. Said sibling had been put in charge of a baby of all things who turned out to be William Miles’ second child.

Which means said child is technically his… aunt? Uncle?

Everything had been hectic since that was divebombed at him that he didn’t have spare time to check for something so inconsequential.

So now…

Elijah had become the guardian of three young children.

… he really needs to get the original Sample 17 so he can push all of these to Desmond Miles instead.

Unorganized Notes:

The main point is that Desmond is revived to find out that he does not only have one child, but two and a younger sibling as well as another child who is definitely Clay’s child (Elijah checked) so yeah… he was resurrected by a bunch of children (well… Elijah’s like… 18 by now)

Clay gets involved because Desmond’s resurrection still has him have a connection with the Gray where Clay is and Clay can connect with Desmond while he has a POE.

This will easily moved into Clay and Desmond trying to be good parents in their own ways and trying to raise three (four if you can Elijah who does not want to be counted) children.

Does Bill learn he has another child? Your call. Or you can just have that child think of Desmond as their father and Desmond just rolls with it since he is the one raising said child.

#i made the children gender vague so you can pick #does bill have rizz? #if all you need is a one night stand with an old fox #sure #if you want an actual relationship? #ask desmond’s mom how that worked out for her #ask and answer #assassin's creed #elijah miles #desmond miles #clay kaczmarek #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

[dracosollicitus]

Avatar Zuko leaves the North Pole after the disastrous invasion of the Fire Nation. His mission: to seek out an earthbending master to help him master the final element in the cycle.

Because only the master of all four elements can stand against the Fire Lord and his armies. Only the master of all four elements can bring balance to the world once again.

Only the Avatar can fix what Sozin's dynasty has destroyed - even if most days, Zuko feels more like an exhausted, banished prince, suffocating under the tarnished legacy of his cruel father.

Showing up 3 years late with Starbucks: what's up, my fellow kids?

BOOK TWO: EARTH of the Legend of Avatar Zuko is now posting, with weekly updates

#avatar zuko au #zutara #atla AU #my fic #in the shadow of the phoenix

[sibillascribbles08]

Michelangelo scooted closer to him. “So… you’re sorry?” Draxum’s ears went back. At least they were still visible even with his horns in place. “Baron Draxum does not apologize.”  The box turtle couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Does Barry apologize?” “That’s not my name.” He snapped.  “What about what Donnie calls you? Barisimus?” “Don’t you dare start with that too.” Draxum swiped at him, but it clearly had no force behind it. Michelangelo couldn’t help but laugh as he ducked out of the way. Maybe he shouldn’t feel so at ease around the alchemist, but it felt so natural at this point.  Draxum wouldn’t hurt them. Michelangelo believed that with his whole chest. Now if only he could convince the rest of his family of that.

#scribbly fics #rottmnt #lou comes back wrong #holy shit the link previews are working again

[mylifeincinema]

My 25 Most Anticipated Films of 2023!!

No intro this year. Just, y’know, here they are...

PHOTO ONE:

1. Infinity Pool (Brandon Cronenberg) – 1.27.23

Haaaave you seen Possessor?!? Plus, that trailer!!

2. Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (Peyton Reed) – 2.17.23

Bring on Kang...

3. John Wick: Chapter 4 (Chad Stahelski) – 3.24.23

I’ll never not be excited to see Keanu kill the shit out of people.

4. Renfield (Chris McKay) – 4.14.23 

Nic Cage as Dracula... I repeat, Nic Cage as Dracula!!

5. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 (James Gunn) – 5.5.23 

The trailer alone has me more emotionally invested than anything I saw in 2022, period.

PHOTO TWO:

6. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (Dos Santos, Powers & Thompson) – 6.2.23

Haaaaaave you seen the first one?!?

7. Asteroid City (Wes Anderson) – 6.23.23

Wes is one of my very favorite directors. Enough Said.

8. Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (James Mangold) – 6.30.23

If you’re actually questioning why this is here, you clearly did not know how obsessed I was with Temple of Doom and Last Crusade as a little kid.

9. Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning – Part One (Christopher McQuarrie) – 7.14.23

Cruise can do no wrong... until he does... but even then the footage of his death will be a fucking blockbuster, and all his fans will give him the exact sendoff he’s apparently begging for. Can’t wait to see how he almost dies, this time.

10. Oppenheimer (Christopher Nolan) – 7.21.23 

So very excited to see Nolan take on something more dramatic... plus, look at that cast!!!

PHOTO THREE:

11. Barbie (Greta Gerwig) – 7.21.23

Margot and Greta... enough said. Oh, but I’ll say more... we live in a world that will soon be home to a Barbie movie co-written by Noah Baumbach!! That’s beautiful.

12. Dune: Part Two (Denis Villeneuve) – 11.3.23

The first felt too unfinished to not be excited to see where Villeneuve brings it next.

13. Wonka (Paul King) – 12.15.23

Really couldn’t care less about Chalamet, and this project is totally unnecessary. But... I’m a die-hard Roald Dahl fan, and this is directed by the man who gave us Paddington 2, so... yeah.

14. Killers of the Flower Moon (Martin Scorsese) – TBD 

C’mon... It’s Scorsese!

15. The Killer (David Fincher) – TBD  

C’mon... It’s Fincher!

PHOTO FOUR:

16. Napoleon (Ridley Scott) – TBD 

I love Ridley Scott... and Joaquin Phoenix looks like he’s going to murder this role.

17. Maestro (Bradley Cooper) – TBD 

The theatre geek living deep down within me is enough reason. But then I also want to see if A Star Is Born was a fluke.

18. Ferrari (Michael Mann) – TBD 

Michael Mann directing a movie about Enzo Ferrari starring Adam Driver... why aren’t you excited about it?!?

19. Beau Is Afraid (Ari Aster) – TBD

No clue what we’re in for... but I’m certain it’s going to fuck me up for a week or two.

20. Peter Pan & Wendy (David Lowery) – TBD  

David Lowery... enough said. I mean, seriously, have you seen A Ghost Story or Pete’s Dragon?!?

PHOTO FIVE:

21. Lee (Ellen Kuras) – TBD  

If Kate Winslet wasn’t enough... well, it is... it really is.

22. Blitz (Steve McQueen) – TBD 

It’s McQueen doing a WWII drama starring Saoirse Ronan...

23. Megalopolis (Francis Ford Coppola) – TBD  

I’m hoping it’s as wild as those set photos have been...

24. The Way of the Wind (Terrence Malick) – TBD

Malick does Jesus...

25. The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar (Wes Anderson) – TBD

 I doubt this is actually going to release in 2023, but it is already in post, so in case does, I really need you all to know just how excited I will always be for new Wes Anderson.

There they are!

As for My Best of 2022, once again all of the major lists will not be getting posted until mid/late January, but I’m going to try to get some of the early lists – such as Posters, TV & Non-2022 Films – sorted and posted over the next week or two. Please Feel Free to Follow Along So You Don’t Miss Anything!

Stay Tuned!

-Timothy Patrick Boyer.

#movies #most anticipated #cinema #barbie #oppenheimer #2023 #Christopher Nolan #killers of the flower moon #Martin Scorsese #asteroid city #wes anderson #beau is afraid #film

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Bezzle excerpt (Part V)

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA (Saturday night, with Adam Conover), Seattle (Monday, with Neal Stephenson), then Portland, Phoenix and more!

I'm out on tour with my new novel, The Bezzle, a cyberpunk revenge thriller about Marty Hench, a two-fisted forensic accountant, and a guerrilla war he wages on a prison-tech provider that treats incarcerated people as assets to be strip-mined:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#bezzle-tour

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/22/self-censorship/#acab

As part of the promotion for the book, I've been serializing an excerpt: Chapter 14, in which Marty takes on a side-quest to recover the stolen royalties of one-time funk star Stephon Magner (AKA Steve Soul) which were stolen by his scumbag manager and then sold on to an even scummier sample-licensing clearinghouse.

Today, I bring you part five, in which Marty's simple cross-referencing project is violently altered by an encounter with the criminal gangs of the LA Sheriffs Deputy departments, a real crime-syndicate whose reign of terror continues to this day:

https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2023-05-17/dozens-of-lasd-deputies-ordered-to-show-suspected-gang-tattoos-reveal-others-who-have-them

I'm posting this installment en route to San Diego, where I'll be appearing tonight at Mysterious Galaxy

https://www.mystgalaxy.com/22224Doctorow

From there, it's back to LA, where I'm appearing on Saturday evening with Adam Conover at Vromans:

https://www.vromansbookstore.com/Cory-Doctorow-discusses-The-Bezzle

And then on Monday I'll be at Third Place Books with Neal Stephenson:

https://www.thirdplacebooks.com/event/cory-doctorow

From there, I'm off to Portland, Phoenix, Tucson and points further:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#bezzle-tour

Here's part one of the serial:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/17/the-steve-soul-caper/#lead-singer-disease

Part two:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#copyright-termination

Part three:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/20/fore/#lawyer-up

Part four:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#poacher-turned-keeper

And now, part five!

The storefront had an old break room with a first-­aid kit, and a bathroom with a sink. I sponged myself clean in the mirror, ate two expired Aleves and three 200 mg expired Tylenols out of the kit. The ass was ripped most of the way out of my pants, so I moved my wallet to my front pocket, which my massage therapist had been nagging at me to do for years.

I opened the door more carefully this time and limped out into the parking lot. My rental—­a little red Civic—­was the only car left in the parking lot, except for a rusted junker with no tires that was the perennial sentry of its farthest corner.

I bipped the doors open with my fob, checked the back seat, then slid inside. I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror and winced, which pulled at my bruises and set blood oozing from my lip and cheekbone again, which made me wince harder. I was already halfway to Quasimodo and I tried to remember if there was a 7-­Eleven on the route home where I could buy a couple of bags of frozen peas for the swelling.

I reset the mirror and backed out of my spot. The pain was increasing. They’d have Advil at the 7-­Eleven, and I’d remembered where there was one on the way back to my Airbnb.

As I waited for a red light at Eagle Rock and Colorado Boulevard, I watched as a homeless man labored across the road with his shopping cart. I was still watching him when I realized the light had been green for some time and had just toggled yellow. I made the turn and headed up Colorado, but I was barely a hundred yards down the road when I heard a siren blat and saw the police lights. I checked my mirrors and saw the LASD cruiser directly behind me, racing right up to my bumper, slowing only at the very last moment. The cruiser’s high beams blinked insistently and the siren whooped.

I pulled over.

I waited while the officer slowly got out of his car and walked to my driver’s-­side window. I kept my hands at ten and two. The officer tapped my window and made a roll-­down motion, so I hit the button, moving slowly, putting my hand back.

I got a light in my face, squinting and thus reopening my cheekbone and lip.

“Everything all right, sir?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling the blood ooze down my chin. “I was beaten up,” I said, stating the obvious.

“That is unfortunate,” the officer said. “License and registration.”

I got my driver’s license out of my wallet and found the rental papers in the glove box and handed them over. He crunched back to his cruiser and I watched him in the side mirror. He’d left his cruiser’s headlights on and in the glare it was hard to tell, but it looked like there was another cop in the car whom he was conferring with. After a long delay, he came back.

“Step out of the car, please.”

I did. He turned me around and had me plant my hands on the hood, kicked my feet apart, and roughly frisked me, getting his hand inside the rent in the seat of my pants and patting my boxer shorts and giving my balls a hard squeeze.

“Sir, do you know why I stopped you?”

“I don’t,” I said.

“You proceeded unsafely through a traffic signal. Have you been drinking, sir?”

“I haven’t.”

“Have you consumed any cannabis or other drugs?”

“I haven’t.”

He turned me around and shone his light in my eyes. “If I search your car, am I gonna find any drugs?”

“No, sir.”

“Because I am gonna search that car and if I do find drugs and you’ve been lying to me, this is gonna be a lot worse than it needs to be.”

I didn’t dignify that with a response. My head hurt. My face hurt. My back hurt. This was a bullshit stop.

I expected the deputy’s partner to get out of the cruiser while my tormentor tossed the rental car, but he stayed put. I did, too. Obviously. I wasn’t going to take off on foot. I’m a forensic accountant, not a gang kid getting fifteen minutes of fame on Cops.

He spent long enough on the rental that I started to worry. Who knew what some previous driver might have shoved between the seats? But after pulling out the floor mats and tossing them onto the grassy verge beside the car, he finally stood up.

“All right, sir. I’m going to go and get a breathalyzer test. You can refuse it and I will then suspend your license for twenty-­ four hours. I will arrest you for a suspected DUI and bring you in for a blood test. If you fail that test, you will be subject to additional criminal penalties. Do you understand me?”

He had old coffee on his breath. My face hurt. “I’ll take a test.”

Back to the cruiser. It had been half an hour at least. Once the breathalyzer was done—­fifteen minutes, if memory served—­I could go to the 7-­Eleven for painkillers and frozen peas. I decided I’d add a six-­pack, I was so tired. My face hurt. I knew that mouthing off to this cop wouldn’t make things go faster, quite the opposite, but as he took his leisurely time coming back to me, I was hard-­pressed not to.

I blew. “May I sit down?” I asked. “My face hurts.”

He didn’t bother to look up from his phone. “Stay where you are, sir.”

I stood. My face hurt. Time crawled. Finally, the breathalyzer beeped. He held it up and squinted at it, then used his phone to light up its face.

When he did, his sleeve rode up and revealed the “998” tattoo on his forearm. Suddenly, I didn’t care so much about the pain in my face.

The cop looked at me. He was an older guy, but quite a silver fox, in a Clooneyoid sort of way. Had the same smile lines at the corners of his lips and eyes. But on him, they looked mean. Dangerous. A man who would smile at you while he beat your face in.

“All right, sir,” he said. “I’m going to write you a citation for reckless driving and you will be free to go.” He smiled. “Thank you for your cooperation.” It sounded like “fuck you.”

Back to the cruiser again. When he was done writing, he switched off his headlights, and the bubble light inside the car lit up his partner. Heavyset. Smiling. Excellent teeth. He gave me the same look as he had just before kicking me in the ribs. I gasped involuntarily and my ribs burned. His smile got bigger.

The Clooneyoid deputy returned with my ticket. I looked at it and then I realized he’d said “reckless driving”—­not “dangerous driving.” This was a summons, not a citation. For a misdemeanor. Two points off my license and I’d have to go to court. Depending on the judge, I could be in for fines or even a jail sentence.

Clooneyoid saw me figuring this out and he smiled, too. Everyone was having a great time tonight except for poor old Marty Hench.

“See you in court, sir,” he said.

I exercised extreme care on the drive to the 7-­Eleven, even backing out of my parking spot and reparking so that I was perfectly centered between the white lines. The clerk didn’t bat an eye at my hamburger face. I gave myself five minutes to bury my bruises in the frozen peas before I backed out and drove the rest of the way to my Airbnb.

I drove five under the limit the whole way, and when I got out of my rental, I looked long and hard up and down the street for an LA Sheriff’s Department cruiser.

ETA: Here's part six!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/22/self-censorship/#acab

#pluralistic #the bezzle #martin hench #marty hench #red team blues #fiction #crime fiction #crime thrillers #thrillers #technothrillers #novels #books #royalties #wage theft #creative labor

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, January 28th

GROO: (gravely) Angel... You and I have fought side by side on more than one occasion -- Fellow warriors, shoulder to shoulder. By now, my counsel must assuredly hold weight, so I beseech you to heed my words... ANGEL: Mmo-kay. GROO: Pomegranate Mist is the wrong color for this room.

~~The Price~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Hot Shiver by veronyxk84 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17 / Mature)

Ageless by Marie_Nomad (Buffy/Angel, G)

lasting impression by CallMeVampy (Giles/Jenny, M)

Oh. by Skyson (Buffy/Giles, Explicit)

Walking With Shadows by honeygirl51885 (Buffy/Spike, PG)

Hot Shiver by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, R with a warning for sexual situations)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Spike's Price - Chapter 1-3 by Jdharblood (Buffy/Spike, G)

I Should Tell You - Chapter 1-10 (COMPLETE!) by julianblackthornspancake ("Rent" fusion, Angel Investigations, Angel/Cordelia, Explicit)

Drive, Ch. 24 by Holly (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

In The Dark With You, Ch. 29 by Geliot99 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Amara Time, Ch. 17 by Joan963z (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Vision Quest, Ch. 9 by acb6293 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Not Just a Boy and a Girl (It's Just the End of the World), Ch. 6 by noctilucent (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

What If Love Was Enough? Ch. 16 by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Afterburn, Ch. 9 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

New Beginnings, Ch. 3 by slinky (Lucifer crossover, Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Day After, Ch. 3-4 by Maldorana (Buffy/Spike, G)

Lie to Me, Ch. 2 by In Mortal (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Unborn, Ch. 1 by Lizzie Queen of Meigas (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Hell Hath No Fury, Ch. 7 by the_big_bad (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Three Little Words, Ch. 8 by Maxineeden (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Rebehold the Stars (Love from the Other Side of the Apocalypse), Part 1 Ch. 4 by Asokatanos (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Ready for it? Ch. 6 by Lilacsandorangeblossoms (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Out of Time: 1942, Ch. 54 by Jonayla (Harry Potter crossover, Buffy/Tom Riddle, FR18)

Fate Plans and We Laugh, Ch. 20 by Hermionetobe (Batman crossover, Buffy, Dawn, Faith, FR15)

One Big Happy-ish Family, Ch. 1-2 by McQueen (Queer as Folk crossover, Connor, Angel, FR7)

A Breath is But a Soundless Whisper, Ch. 17 by Blackoberst (Buffy/Spike, 18+)

Early One Morning, Ch. 10 by all choseny (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

It's Easy Time, Until It's Not, Ch. 19 by hulettwyo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Ready for it?, Ch. 3 by Lilacsandorangeblossoms (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Coming Through, Ch. 8 by hulettwyo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Perfect Clarity, Ch. 23 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Gifset: Spike's death by elusivehoney (worksafe)

Vampire Willow icons by myriaeden (probably worksafe - canon outfit)

Gifset: season seven ↦ buffy, xander & willow by starryeyesxx (worksafe)

Gifset: i'm bisexuak... bisexuap... by andremichaux (Buffy, Spike, worksafe unless your colleagues are homophobic)

Spike by anaquariusfox (worksafe)

Video: Spike caramelldansen meme by genericaces (worksafe, flashing lights)

Artwork: Buffy and Angel kissing by gianelson (probably worksafe)

Prophecy Girl icons by slashericons (Buffy Summers, worksafe)

Digital drawing: Buffy by taniaairiarte (Buffy Summers, worksafe)

Banner: Want to get a little sexy? (Willow/Anya, NSFW text, everyone's clothed but graphically doing magic)

Buffy HD Widescreen Restoration Project: first 2 episodes released by leeonheart22 ()

[Reviews & Recaps]

What are some of your favourite sight gags in Buffy? by Eldon42 and others

[Recs & In Search Of]

Spotlight Saturday: Drangel: Angel(-us)/Drusilla fic recs and vid recs by februaryfangfest

Recs: Top 10 Spuffy fics I’ve read (Jan 2024) by mcgnagallsarmy

[Fandom Discussions]

Re: Bangel or Spuffy? by laufire

I wish S4 of Angel existed alongside season 6 of Buffy by blackrosecoven

Was Dark Willow partly inspired by Jean Grey aka Dark Phoenix of the X Men comics? by Kristine and others

Welcome to the Hellmouth Goofs by btvsfanatic

Buffy and Willow Friendship by Priceless and others

Are too many of the major characters in the Buffyverse good-looking? continued by AndHerSymbols, Klaus Kartoffel and Stoney

I'd like pitch a unique pairing of characters as a ship idea by DarkstarX84

Long term Wolfram & Hart employees in season 5? How by Bison256

Opera voice in Sunnydale High? by dreamyennui

I have a few thoughts about Xander and jealousy when it comes to Buffy and the vampires she chooses to be with. by V48runner

Does anybody not feel Angel's love for Buffy as much as the other way around? by debujandobirds and others

Does Riley even have a job or a home after he leaves the army? by emmaginary-friend

If You Made Your Own Buffy: The Vampire Slayer and/or Angel Season? by Big-Restaurant-2766

You've been transported to 1998 Sunnydale. What's your next move? by Hellmouthgaurdian

What’s your rewatch ritual? by Federal_Flounder_478

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Different drafts of scripts via sudo-sbux

Amber Benson's Q&A (AMA) from 9 years ago via Sudden-Star-7190

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series

[the-wintry-mizzenmast]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers!

tagged by @bbcphile

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

69. NICE.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

522,701

Smoke and Mirrors (Sephiroth/Cloud, drag queen canon divergence) has disproportionately contributed to this.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I am sadly monofannish, so at the moment I am writing in Mysterious Lotus Casebook 蓮花樓. There are a few fandoms I have gone back to writing to, like Phoenix Wright/Ace Attorney when a new game comes out. I suspect I will dive back into Smoke and Mirrors once I am done with MLC and I play FF7 Rebirth.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Day Still Young (Wrightworth PWP)

Safe and Sound (ZoroLu PWP)

Storm Before the Calm (A Wrighworth piece I wrote for an exchange, I'm surprised it's this popular!)

Love and Longing (Wrightworth piece I wrote a long time ago)

Perennial Passions (Wrightworth PWP)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do my best when I am able, but sometimes I don't always get around to it or I don't have the spoons. I apologize if you've left a comment and I haven't been able to respond. Thank you.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I smashed out Tarnished Silver (Sol/Ky, Guilty Gear, Major Character Death) in one evening because I was shocked that one of the audio dramas would have an AU that kills off a main char

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I mostly do one-shots or series that are comprised of one shots that take place in the same universe. Euphemistically, all of my smut has a happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Extremely rarely. And if I did, I would report and then delete.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

All the time. I think every time I get into a ship I write porn for them. My usual tags are Porn Without Plot and Porn With Feelings.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I am extremely proud of Born for the Fast Life, my Ace Attorney x Fast and Furious crossover. This might be the only multi-chaptered fic of any significant length I have ever finished in my life.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A few over the years. Most recently, the entire Smoke and Mirrors series has been translated into Chinese.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've done massive RPs before and collaborated on universes, but never a specific fic.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I am mono-fannish, so my favorite ship is always whoever is currently my ship, which is Di Feisheng/Li Lianhua. I suspect I will always love and have a soft spot for Zoro/Luffy from One Piece.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Two Bodies (Baze/Chirrut, Rogue One). I had so much backstory for them in my head, but it'll never be done. I need to learn that I am fickle and easily distracted and thus not made for long novel-length projects.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Action/fight scenes, car chases, Porn with Feelings.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing things I start.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm only fluent enough to do this in Chinese, and only for short bits of conversation. I've only done this once for 天涯海角 The Ends of the Earth

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Fushigi Yuugi, but it was all for myself and only two people on this earth have read it. First fandom I wrote and posted for? Weiss Kreuz. How's that for a throwback?

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I'm proudest of Smoke and Mirrors, mostly because the characters are so vivid, but also because of its length and the way it's been plotted, even though it's yet undone and I don't have an ending for it. I'd like to figure out where I'm going someday and finish it.

I'm shit at tagging people, so anybody who reads this, if you want to do it, please!

#my fanfiction

[kaitoujokerscans]

KJS is officially inactive.

With the release of Chapter 77, Kaitou Joker Scans is now defunct. We will not be scanlating any more manga chapters. This blog will remain up as an archive.

While we said before that we would cease activities at the end of volume 15, chapter 77 is actually the start of volume 16. Since it’s a crossover, though, it’d take a lot of research and effort for scanlation newcomers to make proper sense of this one. In the interest of lowering barriers of entry, we’ve gone just this one extra mile. (If it’s any encouragement for future challengers, Phoenix first shows up in volume 17...)

Thank you to the readers for sticking with us for so long and for your enthusiasm! I’m glad that so many of you maintained interest.

Thank you so much to all of our translators, cleaners, typesetters, raw providers, and consultants throughout the years!! This project never would’ve gotten off the ground or survived this long without the hard work of a LOT of people. I’m grateful to every one of you for contributing your time and effort. And for putting up with all the bumps along the way. It’s been one incredible experience.

[endlessly-cursed]

WIP List & Upcoming Fics

I. A Small Reminder 

These fics don’t have a date and most of them are simply outlined or just exist in my head because I’m lazy and neurodivergent. Please remember that 

II. The Order 

The order of the fics go through eras and the first is the most likely to be finished/written and the last one is a rough draft 

III. Current Fics 

Primrose Gray’s Legacy: The Younger Years (Somersets 1) 

Outlined: 18/18

Written: 7/18

Published: 6/18

Becoming Primrose 

Outlined: 7/7 

Written: 0/7 

Published: 0/7 

Third of Her Name 

Outlined: 0/12 

Written: 0/12 

Published: 0/12 

Viscountess of Viscountesses 

Outlined: 0/17

Written: 0/17 

Published: 0/17 

Over The Brink of War: A The Phoenix Resistance Story 

Act One: The Fall of the Ministry 

Outlined: 5/5

Written: 3/5 

Published: 3/5 

Act Two: Bound By Destiny 

Outlined: 5/5 

Written: 0/5 

Published: 0/5 

Act Three: The Great War 

Outlined: 28/28 

Written: 0/28 

Published: 0/28 

A Living Dynasty, Somersets Prequel 

Part One: The Beginning of All 

Outlined: 7/7 

Written: 4/7 

Published: 3/7 

Part Two: History In the Making 

Outlined: 5/5 

Written: 0/5 

Published: 0/5 

Part Three: Building A Dynasty 

Outlined: 9/9 

Written: 0/9 

Published: 0/9 

IV. Upcoming Fics 

i. Founders’ Era

Trial By Fire (Brunhilda’s Story) 

Outlined: 7/17

Written: 0/17

Published: 0/17

ii. Victorian Era 

Walking Through Time (Cromwell Siblings)

Outlined: 19/19 

Written: 0/19 

Published: 0/19 

Life Stages (Emmeline Falcon) 

Outlined: 8/8 

Written: 0/8 

Published: 0/8 

Unnamed Ernest di Napoli Fic 

Outlined: TBD 

Written: TBD 

Published: TBD 

iii. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them 

Heads & Tails (Albert & Catalina Rosier) 

Outlined: 4/4 

Written: 0/4 

Published: 0/4 

(Not) A Man’s World (Jude Dubois, Dubois 2/3) 

Outlined: 0/?? 

Written: 0/?? 

Published: 0/?? 

When Duty Meets Love (Vincent Somerset, Somersets 2) 

Outlined: 16/16

Written: 0/16 

Published: 0/16 

The Search For Valhalla (Atticus Demiurgos-Kennedy) 

Outlined: 0/?? 

Written: 0/?? 

Published: 0/?? 

iv. Riddle Era 

Impossible (Elodie Dubois, Dubois 3/4) 

Outlined: 0/5 

Written: 0/5 

Published: 0/5 

The Lord’s Tale (Lawrence Somerset, Somersets 3) 

Outlined: 7/7 

Written: 0/7 

Published: 0/7 

v. Marauder’s Era 

Splendour And Decadence (Vixen Twins) 

Outlined: TBD 

Written: TBD 

Published: TBD 

vi. Hogwarts Mystery 

Warring Hearts* (Valentina Somerset, Somersets 4) 

Outlined: 15/15 

Written: 0/15 

Published: 0/15 

vii. Golden Era 

Salvaging the Future (Gallardo Sisters) 

Outlined: TBD 

Written: TBD 

Published: TBD 

viii. Magic Awakened & Next Gen 

The Cousins’ Feud (Yvonne & Lucille, Dubois 4/5) 

Outlined: TBD 

Written: TBD 

Published: TBD 

The Girl Gang Project (Mary Ann Von Deyne & the Girl Gang) 

TBD!! 

V. Trivia 

* - Means it’s a working title 

??- The story and pacing is clear, but the number of chapters/parts is not 

TBD- The story and pacing is there, but there is no written record of outline 

Dubois family- The Dubois and their story have a big book/timeline gap since it starts with Bruna’s story as the clear first book, but Blanche doesn’t have a story 

Ernest Fic- I came up with it this week and it’s in the first stages of planning & outlining 

Somerset Saga- Since each book has spoilers from the book that precedes it, it will be written after the book is done writing 

#wip list #hp ocs #hp fanfic #founders era #hp victorian era #fantastic beasts and where to find them #riddle era #marauders era #hogwarts mystery #magic awakened #hp next gen #my wips

[tnc-n3cl]

WIP Game

RULES: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag @unmaskedcardinal

The Ballad of Kass (Chapters 11-17 are WIPs at the moment)

Shifting Tides of Fate (Chapter 5)

Virli's Story

Ildia's Story

The Long Nightmare

The Azure Phoenix

The Tale of the Realm Walker

All of these are part of my LoZ fic project, all rated mature for graphic violence and foul language. (Though obviously selected snippets might not have violence or foul language.)

No pressure tags: @coconi, @enterstellervagabond, @ghirahimbo, @grooviestsadpapaya, @readwritebeawesome, @anibegonia, @webmegami

#ask game #wip game

[ohhgingersnaps]

Jade, Amber, Ruby! :3

Jade: Your favorite relationship between two characters

Ok I know this is the most predictable answer, but genuinely my favorite is the Sebastian (Memento)/Ava (Phoenix) lovesquare. That's the one that occupies my mind constantly lol

(Abby/Leah deserves an honorable mention here, too; honestly the palm-reading scene was one of my favorite things to write in this whole fic! I also have a soft spot for Sebastian and Robin's relationship, specifically because it reminds me so much of my own relationship with my mom.)

Amber: Something you learned from writing your wip

I came across this advice from Neil Gaiman that I think sums it up pretty well: “You have to write when you’re not inspired. And you have to write the scenes that don’t inspire you. And the weird thing is that six months later, a year later, you’ll look back at them and you can’t remember which scenes you wrote when you were inspired and which scenes you just wrote because they had to be written next.”

Like genuinely what I’ve learned most in writing WDSTF is that a lot of writing is just about like... Powering through and getting it on the page. Writing feels a lot more like a fossil dig than a construction project— it feels like chipping away at a piece of marble day after day, carefully uncovering a story that's already there. A lot of times, I end up being pleasantly surprised by what I end up finding.

Ruby: Is there any symbolism used in your wip?

Oh, yeah, so much!! Here are a few of my (non-spoiler) favorites:

Ava’s necklace pretty obviously symbolizes her relationship with Memento— she’s constantly tugging at it to ground herself, and whenever she consciously or subconsciously thinks about him. She’s not always aware that she’s doing it. (There are a few times where she does realize, right after being called out on Big Memento Feelings, and drops it like a hot potato lol)

Fairy eggs (the first few small, grape-sized yolkless eggs laid by chickens, briefly mentioned in chapter 17) symbolize the first starts of recovery. Progress is still happening, even if it doesn’t quite look how you expect it to! You just have to be patient with yourself (or your chickens).

Leah’s stinging nettle tea in chapter 10 shamelessly borrows Victor Hugo’s stinging nettle metaphor from Les Mis, but here, it represents having grace with yourself during the healing process. Whatever defense mechanisms you naturally picked up in a bad situation, they were helpful when you needed them, and they don’t make you a bad person— it just means you need to be conscious of them and handle yourself accordingly.

#wdstf #there's SO much more I could add to the symbolism one #the embroidery on phoenix's suit! the idioms linked to seb's birth name (thanks to @pumpkinpaix and her genius-level soup ingredients)! #heck even phoenix herself is kind of a symbol of an unattainable ideal that ava is holding herself to in some ways #and obviously the alias 'phoenix' goes along with the classic burning out and rising from the ashes motif #thank you for asking!! this made my day

[an-anaemic-pen]

Project Phoenix Chapter 17

Navy | Cotton

The Manifestation || The Power Play || The Green-Eyed Fly || The Middle of The Night || The Alternative || The Attic || The House || The God of Mischief || The Kill  || The Night || The Collar || The Training || The Week Without A God of Mischief || The Routine || The Whole Truth

Greige | Lamé

Summary: Kate’s a normal teenage Midgardian girl; except there’s a Loki in her attic, and now S.H.I.E.L.D.’s after her, and also, she has powers. Apparently, she’s meant to save the world.

She just wanted to finish school and maybe fall in love—at least she’s accomplishing one of those.

Relationships: Gen, F/M (Loki/Original Female Character)

Rating: M (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage if you squint bit—nothing occurs while characters are underage, Sexual Content)

Mood: New World Order, Vanquish

‘A few days,’ as Coulson had said, turned into far more than that. At some point, Kate got into the routine of tallying before her midday meal, so she could thoroughly scrub clean the little cut that never fully healed while she showered. According to her tallying, it had been 28 days.

She had hoped to be able to cut herself by now. Kate damned that awful little part of her, the part that wanted the adventure and made her hold off; she just wanted to hear what Coulson would say.

She just wanted to laugh in his face.

She hadn’t laughed in a while, she realized. The only thing she’d really done as of recent was sleep.

Well, sleep was an exaggeration. Since getting forcefully taken off her mental medication, her disorder had crept back into her mind, and now most nights Kate couldn’t fall asleep without vomiting due to an anxious adrenaline rush.

Her lights dimmed sometime after her evening “meal,” and it was at that time Kate would unzip her jumpsuit top, let it rest along her chains, and start pacing around the room. Sometimes she would sit on her bed and rock. The movement and stress warmed her up, but the lack of clothing outside of her bra helped cool off her chest.

It would always end the same way no matter what she did: curled up crying and chugging down water straight from the sink’s faucet. She would them vomit back up said water—attempting to lose one’s lunch when there was no lunch was never fun—then pass out at some point on the tile due to the inevitable adrenaline crash.

She’d tried talking to the guards, but neither said anything anymore. Talking to herself could only get so much done, so at some point, Kate started talking to an old friend of hers.

When she was little, Bella had always been someone to turn to. She was a pretty ballerina with porcelain skin and a perfectly-made bun of dark brown hair atop her head. She always walked on her tiptoes.

No matter how hard she tried, Kate could never conjure up a tangible face for her, so, she wore a plain white mask with no eyes, nose, or mouth holes. Bella’s voice was silky and smooth—it took Kate a while to realize it was Leanna’s—and she was always smiling.

“Hey, Bella?” Her voice was rough, and she cleared her throat. Kate sat on her cot, desperately attempting to draw up the comfortingly-cold chill she had learned to love so quickly; she was different, she was special.

Since her imprisonment, she couldn’t find the power anywhere.

“Yes, little one?” It was Bella’s favorite nickname for her.

Kate didn’t know what to say. “I dunno… I just like knowing you’re here.”

Bella, who had appeared in the corner and was examining the bloody tally marks, walked over. She sat down on the cot beside Kate, resting her nimble hand on her friend’s knee. “I am always here.” Bella curled a lock of hair behind Kate’s ear—Kate, in reality, doing it for her—and gave her a side-hug. “I will not leave until you ask me to.”

“I know.”

When Kate was ten, she’d decided she was a big kid and didn’t need Bella anymore. The ballerina had faded, and Kate had only felt a little bad for abandoning her. Hearing her say she didn’t mind made her feel better; Bella was not hurt by her letting go—by her growing up. I suppose I’m still just a child, then.

“There is nothing wrong with needing a friend, little one. You know that humans are pack animals.”

She smiled a little and hoped Bella wouldn’t know it was forced. “I know.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, the only sound disturbing it being Kate’s breathing.

“Hey, Bella?”

“Yes?”

“Should I still be mad at him?” Half her conscious was saying yes, but half of it was saying no. Her pride told her not to forgive him, but her mind was getting tired of being angry at him; it needed the energy to be mad at S.H.I.E.L.D. and herself. Besides, she wanted to be able to smile when she saw him again—if she saw him again. It was unlikely.

“What do you think?”

“I think he lied to me.”

“And he is the God of Lies.”

Her voice was barely a whisper when she next spoke. “But he also said he was trying to protect me.” She didn’t want to admit it.

“And he brought out your abilities.”

Kate looked at Bella. She knew Bella would know she had turned to face her. Bella always knew. “Are you trying to convince me or not?”

Bella laughed, her eyes shining. “I am merely stating the facts. What you decide it up to you.”

Kate blinked and let her eyes fall to the tile between her knees. She sighed. Bella brushed a light kiss on her temple.

There was a beep, and Kate looked up, Bella fading as her concentration went elsewhere. Her door slid open to reveal an oddly familiar face. It took her a moment, but Kate recognized the man as the third one who’d been in the van with her. He had a soft face and an even softer smile on his lips.

“Kate,” he said.

“Katherine,” Kate grumbled back. She made a vow to not get personal, no matter how desperately she wanted a friend.

“Very well, Katherine.” He walked up to her and offered his hand to shake. “It’s good to finally see you awake.”

Kate raised her eyes to look at him. She lifted her hand with a bit of a struggle, pushing his back down to his side. He didn’t seem offended.

“Why am I here.” She didn’t bother changing the tone of her voice to indicate a question.

Coulson sat down on the cot beside her. He was far enough away that they did not brush arms, but close enough Kate felt his presence beside her. “You put on a little show a few weeks ago, and it piqued S.H.I.E.L.D.’s interest.”

“If I piqued your interest, then why am I in chains?”

Coulson sighed. “I spoke against it, but Fury insisted.”

Her eyebrow quirked. “Fury, as in Nick Fury?”

“Yeah, I know—we tend to get that reaction. Most people don’t believe us at first.”

Kate sneered. “You start to believe things when you find out you have magic powers.”

Coulson huffed out a laugh. “Well, not exactly magic, but powers, yes.”

You don’t even know, she laughed to herself, but feigned arrogance. “Very well, have it your way—powers.” For a moment, Kate thought she sounded like Loki. “Now, let me free. You have no right to do this.”

“We have a warrant.”

“Somehow I tend to think your supposed ‘warrant’ is unconstitutional.”

Coulson laughed again and briefly hung his head. He tried to look her in the eyes, but she refused to meet his. “Act like you’re high and mighty around Fury and you’ll get a good few licks from him.” He stood and took the chair from where it sat in front of the table, carrying it over and sitting down. “I’m Agent Coulson, by the way, you can call me Phil. Ask any and all questions, and I’ll answer what I can.”

How oddly familiar, Kate thought. She was getting tired of not knowing things. “How am I still the same weight when I haven’t eaten any food in—” she glanced at the wall behind him “—twenty-eight days?” She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear Coulson say it.

“Thirty-one days, if you want to split hairs, and it’s the pills.”

Kate made a mental note to add three more tallies to her wall. “How do they work?”

“That’s classified.”

She scoffed. “So, you don’t know.”

His mouth thinned into a line, but he let out another little breath of laughter. “You already have me figured out, don’t you?”

She looked at him, once again not lifting her head, and decided she would let him buy into the idea that she thought she knew everything. “You’d be surprised what one can figure out when all they have is their mind.”

“Would I?” He dragged her chains a bit, so they had more give. “Who were you talking to?”

“That’s classified.”

He sighed. “I guess I deserve that.”

“You locked me in a room and left me here, the only words being ‘see ya in a few days,’ which turned into twenty-eight. If you think all you deserve is a bit of mouthing off, then you are the high and mighty one.”

He hung his head as if he felt genuinely guilty. Kate raised her lip. “Why can’t I use my powers?”

“It’s for the safety of you and us.”

“I want them back.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Now, we’re getting somewhere. I can help you with that.”

She expected him to continue and cut him off before he could. “All I have to do is check the ‘I have read the terms of service’ box?” Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

“Not exactly.” Coulson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We can’t have any sort of liabilities, so we’ll have to…” he faded off. “We have to—”

Kate filled in the words he was looking for. “Brainwash me? Erase my memory? Give me no reason to leave?”

His mouth opened, froze, then closed again. “How did you know that?”

Kate could feel her stomach drop and prayed Coulson wouldn’t notice. Be the Loki, she told herself. She let out a sigh, rolling her head around the collar and cracking her neck. “I’m a liability, aren’t I? And I’ve seen enough sci-fi movies to know how these things work.”

His shoulders sagged slightly. It was such a slight movement that Kate almost didn’t notice it. “Yes.”

She felt sick.

“So?”

Kate pursed her lips. “So what?”

“Will you join S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

She gave him a look. She wanted to say “who do you think you are?” but opted for a simple “no.”

Coulson sighed. He patted her on the knee. “Think about it.” Then, he got up, and walked towards the door.

“I want food.”

He turned around as the door slid open. “We need you.” Then, he walked out and it shut behind him.

Kate stared at the floor for a few moments. She closed her eyes, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands and sighing.

Suddenly, she let out a yell of frustration, kicking the chair across the room and letting it trip over the chains and fall to the floor with a clang. She could feel her blood pumping through her veins. She looked at the wall. Slowly, she got up and dragged her chains over to her little calender, and, with only a slight wince, reopened the little slit.

Three more bloody tally marks joined the others.

Loki sat in the government vehicle, parked in front of a tailor shop. He was with one of the spare agents—one of the ones who wasn’t as easily recognized as the mighty Avengers. At the moment, he wore a simple glamour to change his appearance, and was waiting for his appointment to be measured.

“I do not see why we had to come here for such a simple task. I can dress myself.”

“Boss’ orders.” The Agent called Moore said from the seat beside him. He checked his watch for the third time in the past ten minutes. “Coulson says he wants to help you adjust to your new lifestyle by doing some of the activities civilians would do.”

Loki scoffed. “Am I going to be golfing with my coworkers next week?” He’d never understood the interest in wearing tacky clothing and strategically hitting a tiny ball across a field. The fact mortals considered it to be a ‘sport’ was mildly—very mildly—confusing.

“Unless you’d like me to suggest that to him, no.”

“If I find I will ever be doing such a task, I will personally hunt you down and, to put it simply, kill you.”

Moore shifted slightly. He was not Loki’s usual liaison—Agent Reid was mysteriously ill today—but the man looked determined not to show his fear. Loki would have even given him a bit of credit, were he not so easy to snap like a dead twig. Moore should have fallen to his knees and sworn to never do such a thing, then begged for his life.

Instead of making him do so, Loki simmered in silence as they left the car and went inside. Moore sat to the side while Loki was measured in various places across his form. Of course, he had done such things back in Asgard, but he had not grown in some time and knew his measurements. Loki knew it was just to keep him busy—keep him leashed.

They returned a few days later and, after a few rearrangements, the suit actually fit him like it was supposed to. It was a ‘classic business look,’ as the tailor had put it. In truth, it was similar to what he would wear when trying to blend-in as himself, although he had on a white button-down rather than black one and the suit was navy blue. Despite the slight similarities, it felt different. Coulson had called it top-dollar, but it certainly didn’t feel like it. Asgardian fabric was much better.

Agent Reid was cured of his illness by the day of the meeting and he and a thin secretary looked Loki over before he walked into the room where the men of “power” awaited. Reid nodded, as if Loki needed approval, but the secretary cocked her head slightly. Rather suddenly, she rose onto her tiptoes and reached up.

It took every ounce of his rationality and pride to not grab her by the wrist. Loki stayed stock-still, allowing her to move a lock of hair to a different location before lowering herself back down. She was tall by Midgardian women’s standards—which explained why she was wearing flats rather than heels like the others—but still only came up to his chin. Loki noted that he preferred the smallness of Kate; he could wrap himself completely around her narrow form, and she would nuzzle against his chest and sigh.

It was always blissful when it was quiet like that.

He missed those moments, but any feelings of grief were buried underneath a thick blanket of rage. Loki had canvased the entire building, but could not find Kate anywhere; her magic was stifled. He’d been unable to get anything out of the other Agents thus far, although, it was no surprise—the chances of them actually knowing anything about her were slim. Even in the past, she’d been top-secret in S.H.I.E.L.D..

The secretary nodded her head, bringing Loki out of his thoughts, and opened the door for him. “Loki Laufeyson, sir,” she said to someone specific inside the room.

He entered, and she shut the door without following him in. Loki stood and looked around. Everyone was looking back at him. They were all old men in business suits, with serious expressions that looked as though he was wasting their time.

Fury looked horribly out of place in his usual leather, although his scowl was perfect for the atmosphere.

Loki did not like the amount of power they currently held over his life. If they deemed him unfit, he would be doomed to the palace dungeons for an eternity. He wouldn’t be given a chance of escape—let alone a chance of snatching the Eye of Agamotto and reverting time to try again—and it was there that he would most likely die.

He would fail.

“Have a seat,” Fury said, and gestured to a chair at the other head of the table.

Loki walked over, sat, and decided he wanted to kill them all. “I understand you are going to be assessing my behavior?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” a mortal with nothing but a few wisps of white hair around his head spoke, and Loki inwardly laughed. Your Highness was much more fitting, yet they treated him like he was just another pawn. “Have you found your accommodations well?”

He sighed, pretending to contemplate. “Well enough. Although, I would appreciate not having to be stripped every time I return from a walk.”

It was Fury that spoke next. “Too bad.”

In the past, Loki could easily sway any mortal into giving him what he wanted. Seiðr was strictly off-limits now, and he was finding it to be an annoyance. He despised not getting what he wanted. A test of my patience, I suppose.

“I do not see why this meeting was necessary. I am aware you are watching my every move on your security cameras; could you not assess me through them?”

“We are.” Fury said. He seemed unable to mask his impatience.

“This is to get a feel for you in person, Mr. Laufeyson,” another man added. Loki didn’t care to pick out any discerning features—these men were all the same to him. “So,” the man leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands and resting them on the table. “Tell us about yourself.”

Loki quirked his eyebrow. “I’m certain you are aware as to who I am.”

“Yes,” the old mortal sighed, mulling over his words. “But we wish to hear it from the man himself.”

Loki let out a huff of laugher. I am no man. “Very well. What would you like to know?” He sat back, resting his ankle on the opposite knee and getting comfortable. He had expected at least a slight challenge.

“You lie, you die.” Fury barked. Loki briefly wonder how long it had taken him to come up with the mantra.

“I am aware of this, Mister Fury.”

Fury rolled his eye.

“Tell us about yourself, and we can go on from there.”

It had been far longer than Loki found necessary, but finally, he was free. He was escorted back to his chambers—passing Thor along the way, although Loki didn’t engaged in conversation—and left there with a request to stay in for the rest of the night.

He ordered food and stretched out on the couch, staring at the television screen. He found no interest in watching his brother save yet another damsel in distress, nor of hearing about the horrors of another country, nor rolling his eyes at the “humor” of sitcoms.

Even after the time he’d been here, the apartment still smelled sterile. Loki stared at the ceiling and sighed, closing his eyes. He cast out his mind, traversing down the elevator and through the tower. He felt through every single nook and cranny, but was unable to find any hint of Kate.

He began to worry as he always did, taking off his shoes and pacing. The poor girl was probably terrified, and the chances of S.H.I.E.L.D. giving her her medications were slim; her demons were haunting her at full-force.

Loki showered and once he was dressed, he saw that his food had been delivered. Chinese was… strange, he’d discovered, but it had more flavor than most of the Midgardian food he’d tried, so he was willing to eat it.

He watched the world from his little tower, mortals going about their lives like little ants.

Loki looked at the door. He’d melted the cameras that monitored his chambers long before, and nobody had bothered replacing them. He knew he was not being monitored. Still, it bothered him that anybody could open it if they held a keycard, while he could not—his had been taken away for the night and would be returned in the morning.

When Loki awoke the next morning, his keycard had been slipped through a small hatch where food and other supplies was delivered. He knew what it meant, and after eating, he was told of his new promotion.

Sadly, his allowance wasn’t increased. Still, Loki surprised himself with a genuine smile at the news. He was one step closer to finding Kate, and one step closer to ending his sentence. Three years, he thought. Normally, it was a miniscule amount of time, but every moment at S.H.I.E.L.D. felt painstakingly slow.

“You’ll be starting training tomorrow—Coulson wanted to give you a day to relax before you do the first bit of work you’ve ever experienced in your life.”

Loki decided to play along with the sarcastic smile on Stark’s face. “Yes, I shall spend the day as one like yourself might expect.”

“How’s that?” He sounded uninterested.

Loki was positive there was some sort of unspoken rule about being with coworkers, probably somewhere in the agent’s rules and regulations he hadn’t bothered to read. “As I said—one like yourself—there will be plenty of booze involved.” Loki could feel the offense taken rolling off of Stark in waves, although the only recognition he received was a twitch of the lip.

“There also happens to be a pretty little secretary who’s made herself clear enough,” he continued, “and with a rather unfortunate drought of Asgardian women, I might as well enjoy what I can scrounge up in this hel-hole. That is the way of the Midgardian man, is it not?”

Stark’s shrugged nonchalantly.

It had been a little over a week since her meeting with Coulson. Kate had placed a small dot below the talley when he visited, so she knew exactly nine days had passed.

She stared at the razor. What was holding her back?

After her little fit, Kate had curled up in a ball, nursing the wound and struggling not to cry and laugh at the same time.

40 days, she though. 40 days and I’m already going insane.

She had also had a conversation with Bella a few days after Coulson’s abrupt departure.

“Should I apologize to him?”

Her inner voice replied before Bella could. And just how the hell are you going to do that?

Bella ran her nimble fingers through Kate’s hair, untangling it gently as she went. Kate didn’t have a brush, and her hair was getting increasingly unruly. Although, she noticed her roots growing back in brown now. “What for, little one?” She didn’t need to ask who Kate was referring to—Loki had become a regular conversation topic.

“It kind of is my fault I’m here.”

“Then shouldn’t you apologize to yourself?”

Kate had forgotten how wise Bella could be.

She swallowed. Slowly, her hand moved the razor to her wrist. So, she thought, this is the end.

She’d expected to go in a more noble way, maybe shoving a kid out of the way of an oncoming bus or something. But now, her self-preservation was poking at her, trying to scream the illogical train of thought she was currently riding out of existence.

She let the razor rest on her skin. The sharp blades felt smooth.

Then, there was a knock on the door. Kate startled, the razor falling from her hand and landing on the tile.

“Five minutes.” It was the voice of Agent Snyder.

Kate briefly looked down at the razor. She couldn’t bleed out in five minutes. Tomorrow, then.

She shut off the water, stepping out to dry off. As of recent, S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided her with a small box of bandages to apply whenever she shaved. It wasn’t uncommon for her to nick her legs, especially because they replaced the razor every three days. There was a small cut on her wrist where the razor has barely glided past her skin, now welling with scarlet blood.

Kate dressed the wound and looked in the mirror. Her eyes were still the same gray as always, but they looked like they had before she went on medication—no, that wasn’t true. They looked the way they had before she went on medicine multiplied by ten thousand. Large purple bags hung under her eyes, and there were stress-induced red spots in the whites of them.

Her skin looked paler, probably from the lack of sun. It was to be assumed the pills gave her the vitamin D she needed because she hadn’t felt the sun in—

“Time’s up.”

—40 days. “Gimme just a second,” she called to Snyder. “I need to get my clothes on.”

“Hurry up.”

“I will.” Kate fumbled for the new set of clothing, unfolding it and dressing. Once she had the fabric slightly tucked under her manacles, she opened the door. Snyder attached her golden chains once more and led her through the damp hallway. Kate ignored the glances from those passing by.

“What are these chains for? The golden ones, I mean.”

“To keep you from running.”

“But why are they golden?” As they rounded a corner, Snyder and Jones stopped. Kate took a couple extra moments to do so, but was successful before they had the chance to lightly yank her by the arms.

Coulson walked by, smiling as he passed. Kate had the sudden realization that she wanted to talk to him more. She briefly wondered whether or not to call out to him, and ultimately decided to do so. “Coulson!” She turned her body, her arm getting pulled slightly awkwardly as she did so.

Coulson turned, his eyebrows raised.

“I have more questions.”

“Would you like to discuss my proposition?”

No. “I want answers, first.”

He looked at his watch. “I have somewhere to be right now, but I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”

“What time?”

“Sometime in the morning.”

Kate paced her room long after the lights went dim.

She had to formulate exactly what to ask, exactly what to reply, and exactly what to retort. She had to memorize what she would do so she could steer the conversation. Coulson needed to think she was changing her mind, but then he would say something, and she could decline with disgusted ease.

But she didn’t know what she didn’t know, did she?

Her mind was racing enough that she worked past the panic, and eventually laid down on the cot, got as comfortable as possible with chains strewn around her body, and closed her eyes.

Her sleep wasn’t exactly fitful, but it was good enough to take her long into the morning—not that she knew what time it was, really. Time was all blurred now.

Kate remembered reading somewhere that the human body, once no longer subject to day and night, switched to a 48-hour internal clock. Perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D. was just rolling with the natural transition? It seemed unlikely.

Even so, it didn’t matter. She opened her eyes to the usually blinding lights. Adrenaline rushed her system when she was finally able to adjust to the stark contrast between light and darkness; Coulson was sitting in the chair, casually reading a book.

Kate forgot everything she was going to say as Coulson looked up, a soft smile gracing his already-soft visage once more.

She had to admit, S.H.I.E.L.D. picked a good liaison.

“Good morning.”

Kate sat up, wincing when the manacles scraped at the skin on her wrists. They were getting increasingly raw, although the showers certainly helped because she didn’t have the weight of chains pulling her down. “What are you doing in here?” She glanced at the door, wondering how she hadn’t heard the little beep.

“You’d said you wanted to talk.”

“I meant after I was awake.” Kate swung her legs off the cot, stood, and stretched. She needed to collect her thoughts. “I have to pee.”

“I’ll wait.”

Her face fell. “Can you leave?”

“I’ve got agents waiting for me outside.” He closed the book. “I’m kind of hiding from them at the moment.”

Kate swallowed. “Okay.”

She walked over to the little corner, and Coulson returned to his book. In the recent weeks, Kate noticed her arms and legs were getting stronger. They ached a bit from her pacing, but she could see the muscles beneath them, strong and taught. She was losing weight, too. It wasn’t a dangerous amount, just the excess fat on her thighs and stomach.

As she partially disrobed and sat down, she covered as much as she could with her shirt. She made sure to watch Coulson like a hawk to make sure he didn’t turn around to look—not that there was much to look at, really.

For once, she was thankful for having a shy bladder. Kate kept her eyes open, her focus switching between the two tasks, and cast out her mind. The room felt just as it had the many other times she’d cast out her mind—cold and concrete, she couldn’t see past the walls—but now Coulson was there; a single splotch of orange in an entire room of navy blue.

His mind was focused on his book, scanning the page and processing the words.

I creeched. "Stop, you grahzny disgusting sods. It's a sin, that's what it is, a filthy unforgivable sin, you bratchnies!" They didn't stop right away, because there was only a minute or two more to go—

Coulson was using a cockney voice for it all. He glanced at the page number, and Kate was able to see A Clockwork Orange in the header. She worked past it, searching further.

She imagined herself like a spy; Coulson probably wasn’t even aware she was in his mind. Or, perhaps he was, and he was only letting her view certain information. No, she realized, there would be resistance.

She had trained herself quite a bit in mental abilities in the recent weeks. It hurt less to cast out her mind now, and shifting passively through Coulson’s thoughts was a breeze.

God, she missed breezes. She hadn’t felt the wind in ages.

Kate didn’t know exactly what day she had been taken, but forty-one days later would place the world in mid-August.

She located a recent memory, one that sat in the forefront of Coulson’s mind as he got distracted.

It was… it was Loki? Coulson was giving him a tour of a building—though she couldn’t tell what building—and the God of Lies looked relaxed. He looked comfortable. Thor was with them, and he clapped Loki on the shoulder. “Look at you, brother! Already adjusting!”

Loki had lied to her. The whole time.

Kate receded abruptly, standing up in the same heartbeat and walking over to the sink after she had finished the task-at-hand. She watched a blurry Coulson in the mirror, still reading his book, and washed her hands. He had no idea what she’d seen.

She splashed warm water on her face, rinsing the tears forming in her eyes and grabbing the soap bar. She washed and dried her face, ignoring the ache in her chest, and filled a little plastic cup with water.

Kate picked up the pill on the table like she always did, swallowed it, and sat down on her cot. She knew what she was going to do now. “I’m ready.”

Coulson folded the corner of the page and put the book down on the table. He smiled. “It’s A Clockwork Orange—difficult to read since the language is a little strange, but interesting.”

Kate nodded without a reply.

“What did you want to ask?”

She sighed. “What are the golden chains for?”

“Agent Snyder told you yesterday; they’re to keep you from running.” Coulson shifted, getting more comfortable.

“But why are they made of gold? There’s glowing blue stuff underneath, too.”

He sighed. “It’s a new technology to help you with your powers. Your room and shower are lined with it, too. It keeps your power at bay.”

Kate hoped her eyes weren’t red. “Then why do I need to wear them?”

“The halls are traversed by other superhumans like yourself. We can’t have their powers going numb, as well. This is the solution.”

“Then why do I need to be chained while in here?”

Coulson blinked, his eyes trailing to the floor in thought. “Fury insists.”

“Why am I collared?”

“The same reason.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Kate picked at her nails. “Do you really get to see the Avengers?”

Coulson laughed. “All the time.”

Kate tried to act curious. Truthfully, she was. “What are they like?”

Coulson visibly relaxed. “Well, serums and powers aside, just like you and me.”

“Have you…” She pretended to be sheepish. “Have you met Loki?” She let a little smile of embarrassment turn up the corners of her mouth.

Coulson’s smile broadened into something more genuine. “Have you seen the movies?”

“Of course!” Kate let herself laugh a little. “He stabbed you, and you died. But you’re here now, and if his brother’s an Avenger, then you’ve seen him since his redemption, right?”

Coulson smiled. “Yes.”

“What’s he like?”

“Interesting.”

“Is he tall?” That was something fangirls liked to ask, right?

“Decently.”

Kate tried to suddenly hide her curiosity. “What’s S.H.I.E.L.D. like?”

“I’m afraid I can’t exactly say, but I’m sure you would love it.”

She didn’t reply for a little while.

Coulson pulled out his phone, typed something, then put it away.

He stood and checked his watch. “I’m afraid I have to go.”

Kate jumped up. “What? Why?” She hadn’t gotten the chance to decline his offer yet.

“I’ll be late for a meeting.” He walked over to the door. It took a couple of seconds, but it opened, and he left.

There were no agents outside waiting for him that Kate saw.  So, he was lying too?

She was silent for a few minutes, staring at a wall and processing what had just occurred.

She didn’t know what to think now. “Bella?”

Bella appeared in front of the sink, fixing her perfect hair a bit. “Yes, little one?”

Kate fell sideways onto the cot. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

For once, Bella had no words for comfort. When she walked over and began to sit, Kate waved her off. Bella disappeared as Kate rolled onto her stomach. She buried her face into the pillow, tears welling in her eyes for reasons unbeknownst to her and soaking into the fabric.

She began to cry—really cry—at the hurt, at the confusion of it all. She just wanted to go home.

“I hate you.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #loki #loki fanfic #loki fic #Loki Laufeyson #loki (marvel) #marvel #marvel agents of shield #marvel fanfiction #S.H.I.E.L.D. #Project Phoenix #Project Phoenix Chapter 17 #Navy | Cotton

[geeky-writes]

The Phoenix Project Final Chapter Preview

I can’t believe we’re so close to the end! Thank you so much to @crownofstardustandbone @therollingstonys for all of the gorgeous moodboards, and to all of you who read and gave me such awesome feedback! 💖

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Making his way back down the hall, Peter paused outside the door to the master bedroom. From what he could tell, Dad was not pacing back and forth, which probably meant that he wasn’t quite ready yet.

“Yeah?” Dad said in response to Peter’s knock. “Who is it?”

“It’s just me, Dad. Can I come in?”

“Good grief, Pete, you know you don’t have to ask.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he opened the door. “Well, it’s not like I’m not gonna ask,” he said as he stepped inside, stopping short when he saw Dad sitting on the edge of the comfy armchair tucked into the corner of the room. He at least was wearing his shirt and pants, but his purple tie was loose around his neck and his suit jacket was still carefully laid out on the bed. He was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and rocking slightly back and forth.

He looked, in a word, terrified.

“Dad?” Peter asked, his heart starting to thud. “Um… are you okay?”

“Huh?” Dad said, as if he’d just realised that Peter was there. “Oh, yeah, bud, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“Okay, but… what about?” Peter asked with a frown. “‘Cause it looks like you’re about ready to pee your pants or something.”

Dad shot Peter one of his goofy really? looks. “Spoken like a true adolescent boy,” he said, his eyebrows all scrunched together. “No, buddy, I’m not afraid in the slightest.”

“Yeah, right,” Peter said warily. “Nice try, Dad, but you’re not fooling me.”

Dad rolled his eyes, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “All right, fine. I am afraid. But not about the wedding.”

Peter breathed out a slight sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good. Then… what? What’re you so afraid of?”

It was several heartbeats before Dad could answer.

“I’m not afraid to have… all of this,” he murmured, his gaze firmly trained on the portrait of their family that hung on the wall over their bed, one that Papa had painted from a drawing that he’d given Dad right before the Phoenix mission. “I’m—I’m just afraid that now that I’ve got it… I’m just gonna end up fucking it all up again.”

Oh boy…

“Dad,” Peter said. “I really, really don’t think you need to be worrying about that. And you know it makes Papa sad to even hear you talk like that, so… why?”

“Yeah, I know it does,” Dad said with a sigh. “And I can’t stand that sad face of his. Makes me wanna cry whenever I see it.”

“Then… don't be thinking like you’re thinking, and he’ll have no reason to make it,” said Peter. “Right?”

Dad lifted his head, attempting a smile. “Sure, bud. No problem.”

Aaarrrggghhh, Peter thought, biting back his frustrated groan. He and Dad had just had an entire conversation about this very thing the night before, when Dad was tucking Peter into bed. Papa had asked him to sleep apart since it was the night before their wedding, apparently because it was some old tradition or something that Grandma had mentioned. And while Dad had agreed to it, Peter knew it had thrown him a bit more than he’d wanted to let on.

Unlike Papa, Dad was very good at hiding his emotions. But even with his mask firmly in place, Peter could still see right through him.

“You’re not Grandpa, Dad,” Peter said gently. “And you’re not gonna fuck anything up, so—”

“Whoa, young man!” Dad exclaimed with wide eyes. “That’s a pretty grown up word coming out of such a young mouth!”

“Mmm,” muttered Peter. “Yeah, okay, but you get what I mean, right? Papa asked you to marry him because he loves you, and wants to be your husband. It’s really not anymore complicated than that.”

Dad sniffed, swiping at his eyes as he chuckled. “Yeah, bud, you’re right. I’m just being stupid.”

“No, you’re not being stupid, Dad, you’re just… afraid. And it’s okay to be afraid as long as you don't let it control you. Isn’t that what you and Papa tell me every night?”

“Yeah, yeah, something like that,” said Dad. He pushed himself up to his feet, clearing his throat as he looked Peter over. “How in the hell did you get to be so handsome, hmm? Weren’t you just about yay big only a month or so ago?”

“Not quite, Dad,” Peter said with a smile. “It was more like nine weeks ago.”

That finally got Dad to smile. “Oh, yeah. That makes more sense.” He stepped back, checking Peter over from head to toe. “You sure clean up pretty good though, bud.”

“Yeah, must be a Stark thing,” Peter said, holding up his camera. “You mind if I get a few pictures? I already took some of Papa.”

“You did?” Dad asked eagerly. “How’s he look?”

“Amazing,” Peter said with wide eyes. “Like, you’re probably gonna stop short when you see him. Make that silly ga-ga face and everything.”

“Well, that won't be anything new,” answered Dad. “The man is about as perfect as they come.”

“Yeah, and he thinks the exact same thing about you,” Peter said firmly. “He’s even told me so. You really have nothing to worry about, Dad. I promise.”

Dad’s lower lip started to tremble, and he caught it between his teeth. “Well, if you’re saying it, then it must be true,” he whispered. He brushed the hair from Peter’s forehead, pressing a kiss there. “I s’pose it’s time to head downstairs now?”

“Yeah, just about,” answered Peter. “Can I get some pictures first, though?”

“Sure, bud. Where do you want me?”

“Well… how ‘bout how you were sitting when I first got in here? he said. “When you were being all contemplate-y and stuff? That’s how I got Papa too.”

“Contemplate-y?” Dad said, smirking as he sat back down. “Is that even a word?”

Peter laughed, raising his camera. “Eh, I guess it is now.”

The full chapter will post on Monday, July 20th 😊

#the phoenix project #superfamily #stony #stevetony #iron dad and spider son #superhusbands #superfamily fanfiction #stony fanfiction #iron dad fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #steve rogers #parent tony stark #parent steve rogers #kid peter #chapter 17 preview #geeky writes #hopefully this will show up in the tags now...

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, May 7

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

The sabotage in intimacy (Faith/Lilah, E) by xxsummixxx

Buffy, it's May (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by JSBirsa

[Chaptered Fiction]

Watcher and Slayer, Chapter 11 (Buffy/Giles, E) by Anonymous

You Have Shattered, and I Will Pick Up the Pieces, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Faith, NR) by theRealLadyLucifer

One Girl in All the World, Chapter 31 (Buffy/Faith, T) by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

The Vampire's Daughter, Chapter 11 (Spike, T) by Puella Pulchra

Dimensional Rift, Chapter 9 (Ensemble, T) by Yosoy Panqueques

Keeping Up With the Scoobies, Chapter 23 (Buffy/Spike, T) by Takara Phoenix

Dusk Rising, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by HappyWhenItRains

Written in the Dust, Chapter 16 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Indi_Shaw

The Grapevine, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by ClowniestLivEver

Bound, Chapter 42 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17 by RavenLove12

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Echoes of Beljoxa, Chapter 54 (Buffy/Spike, 18+) by myrabeth

One Step Away, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by flootzavut

The Home Invastions, Chapter 25 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by VeroNyxK84

Dawn the Vampire Slayer, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, R) by LJ94

h o n e y / t a s t e, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, AO) by LittleTayy

Postcards and Snapshots, Chapter 11 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by TheSunnySlayer

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THE BEGINNING OF THE END - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Reaction - 7x1 - Lessons by TheLexiCrowd

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[the-al-chemist]

The Phoenix Resistance - Book 2 Chapter 17

Lost and Found

A/N: Artemis and Ava break into Hogwarts in search of documents that might hold the key to winning the war. Ava belongs to @lifeofkaze and Kaari to @kathrynalicemc. Warnings: danger, threat, and violence. Chapter written as part of the @phoenixresistance project.

A Munro, Highlands, Scotland, UK - 11th April 1998, 11.50pm

Three figures stood on a craggy hillside, looking out over the landscape below. Through the darkness and light fog, it was hard to pick out any specific landmarks, but Artemis could just about make out the small collection of lights that constituted Hogsmeade village, and beyond, the warm glow of the windows of Hogwarts castle.

Given that it was the Easter holidays, Artemis could only assume that the school would be less full of students than it usually would be, but she could not be certain. She hoped to Godric that it was; the fewer people inside, the less likely they were to be seen, and the less potential casualties if they were.

“Are you two certain that you want to do this?” asked Kaari Arcano, frowning deeply as he squinted at the castle in the distance. Artemis nodded, and beside her, Ava did the same. Kaari sighed loudly, and under his breath muttered something that sounded like: “Effing women.”

“What was that now, Kaari?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say a thing,” Kaari said quickly, lowering his gaze away from the two pairs of eyes that were now glaring at him. He reached into his pocket and brought out an empty glass bottle, holding it up for Artemis to see. “Now, this is your Portkey. It leaves at daybreak. So, you have six hours to fly over, get inside, find your research and fly back here.”

“Easy,” Artemis nodded, and Kaari exhaled through his nose. “Oh, come on, Kaari. We will be speedy, and we know where you’ll be. If need be, we can apparate back here as soon as we get off the castle grounds. And besides, the longer we stay here talking about it, the less time we have to look around.” She lit her wand and turned to Ava, whose expression was grim. “Ready?”

Ava nodded, her hand tightly gripping her broom. “I’m ready.”

“Light your wand and follow me.”

Artemis mounted her broom and rose into the air, and Ava followed suit, flying just behind Artemis with her wand also lit. Ava was a fair flier, but not as fast nor as practised as Artemis, who was not only proficient on a broomstick, but knew the main flight paths over the forest that surrounded most of the castle grounds. She kept a steady pace so that Ava could follow her easily, and paused as they drew nearer to the castle.

“It’s pretty foggy,” Artemis called out, pausing and hovering in mid-air to talk to Ava. “We should be fine to fly straight to the stone bridge without anyone seeing us. That will be the quickest route to the main part of the castle, and saves us having to walk through a load of corridors.”

“Good idea,” Ava replied, and Artemis saw her nod in the glow of her wandlight. “What if we get separated?”

“We won’t get separated. We are going together.”

Ava sighed. “I know, but if…”

“If we get separated - which we won’t - we go back to Kaari,” Artemis shrugged. “We can hardly go hanging around waiting for each other in a castle full of Death Eaters.”

“Hardly.”

“Will you be alright flying by yourself if we get separated?”

“I’m not an accomplished flier, but I’m not incompetent, either,” was Ava’s wry reply. She added, gentler this time, “I will be just fine, Artemis.”

They flew low over the treetops, speeding up as they drew closer to the castle, their path taking them straight between the turrets and towers to the stone bridge, where they dismounted their brooms. Quickly and quietly, they ascended to the seventh floor, and paced in the corridor in front of a tapestry of a wizard and a group of trolls, all fast asleep in what looked like a ballet studio. A door appeared in the wall opposite the tapestry, and Artemis nodded to Ava, who pushed it open to reveal the Room of Lost Things.

Piles upon piles and rows upon rows of artefacts and objects filled the room, extending from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. Artemis tried her hardest not to groan out loud. She had not been inside this room for years; she had forgotten quite how much it held.

“Accio research,” Artemis said, holding out her wand. Nothing came towards her, and she shrugged at Ava. “Worth a try. Right, where shall we look first?”

“Let’s be efficient,” replied Ava, her eyes already scanning the room as if she were mapping out a route through it. With her feet on firm ground and a sort of puzzle to solve, she already seemed more like her usual Ava self. “I know you were keen not to separate, but we will cover more ground if you take one half of the room and I the other.”

Artemis nodded. Ava was right, of course; the documents could be anywhere, and with Kaari and her Portkey waiting for them on the mountainside, and a castle potentially filled with enemies, they could not afford to waste time. Ava took the left side of the room and Artemis the right, wandering through the masses of amassed items with her wand lit and eyes peeled.

Though she did find a stack of broken-framed portraits leaning against a wall, bottles of potions that had been there so long the contents had congealed, the bust of a particularly ugly warlock wearing a particularly beautiful tiara, and one badly taxidermied mountain troll, there was no sign of any kind of research documents as far as she could see. After searching for the best part of an hour, when she was beginning to lose both hope and patience, she heard Ava call to her from behind a stack of old animal cages on the other side of the room.

“Artemis! This here looks very promising.”

Her wand still lit, Artemis ran in the direction of Ava’s voice, and found her companion kneeling on the ground by a large open chest. Inside, the chest was filled with multiple scrolls of parchment, books of various sizes, along with many bound stacks of loose pages.

“This has to be it. This is brilliant, Ava,” Artemis grinned, but Ava did not look pleased. “What? What’s wrong?”

“The trunk,” she said, and she placed her hand into the trunk, plunging it down until she was armpit deep in the research. “I’m still not at the bottom.”

“Undetectable extension charm?”

“That would be my guess.”

“How much do you think is in there?” asked Artemis, her nose wrinkling.

“Far too much for us to carry,” Ava rolled up her sleeves and placed her hands on the trunk. “It’s too big and heavy to carry on the brooms, and I tried using a shrinking charm on it already. We’re just going to have to” - she paused, as if what she was about to suggest was something almost sacrilegious - “tip it all out and leave anything that isn’t completely relevant behind.”

Artemis nodded, and placed her hands on the trunk as well. “Okay. On three, we tip. Ready? One… two… THREE!”

The two women used all the force they could muster to push the trunk over, and its contents spilled out of it and across the floor. Panting, Artemis looked at the sea of papers and parchments at her feet.

“Right, so how do we know what’s the most important stuff?”

“Anything that’s been annotated,” Ava said, already flicking through a book, which she immediately tossed to one side. “Or coded. Anything coded must be worth something. Same goes for pages that have been” - that same judgemental look again - “ripped out of books. Clearly she thought those were worth saving.”

“What about this?” Artemis asked, holding up a black and gold pendant necklace that had been pressed into the pages of a book, as if it were a bookmark. Ava looked up at it, frowning deeply.

“Yes,” she said, after a few moments of complete silence, her lips pursed and eyebrows still furrowed. “Keep that. And the book it was in, too.”

They worked quickly, fanning the pages of leather bound books to check for handwritten notes in the margins, setting aside any objects that were not documents at all, unrolling and rerolling scrolls of parchments inscribed with text so coded it was unintelligible, and putting it all into a single pile, discarding the rest. Even so, with the sheer amount of papers and objects to sort through, they were taking far longer than they had anticipated.

“What’s the time? Do we need to think about-”

“Shush!” Ava whispered, holding a finger to her lips. Artemis immediately fell quiet, and Ava put her finger up, and mouthed the single word: “Listen.”

Artemis strained to hear what Ava could hear, and as soon as she did, her eyes widened. The unmistakable sound of muffled footsteps could be heard. She crawled on her hands and knees to peer around the stack of furniture that was keeping them out of view from the door to the Room of Lost Things, and her heart sank.

In the small gap between the floor and the bottom of the door was a shadow. Someone was outside. She turned back to Ava, and looked pointedly at the documents they had placed to one side.

“Pack them up,” she hissed. “Someone’s here.”

Ava didn’t need to be told twice. Whilst Artemis turned back to keep her eye on the door, she swiftly and silently conjured a drawstring bag and began to stuff the research inside it.

Outside the room, the shadow didn’t move, and listening carefully, Artemis could make out at least two different voices, though they were indistinct enough that she could not tell what they were saying. Both voices were deep, far too deep to belong to children. Teachers, then. Teachers or Death Eaters. Either way, they were trapped inside.

If only there were another door, Artemis thought, and no sooner had the words formed in her head than a door appeared in a wall on the other side of the room. She made eye contact with Ava and pointed at it, and Ava nodded, still pushing the final items into the bag.

At the other end of the room, the main door - the one by which they had entered and was now blocked - creaked and began to open. Two men and a woman stepped inside, whilst two more people - both wearing the black and silver masks of the Death Eaters - remained outside.

“They were definitely heading this way,” one of the men was saying. “I didn’t see which room they went in because I came to find you, but-”

“Did either of them match the description of any Undesirables?”

“Yes. One of them did. She looked like the one that’s been breaking into Azkaban.”

Artemis scuttled backwards out of sight, her heart racing. They had recognised her, and they knew she was here. Not only that, but they were looking for her, her and Ava, and to get to the exit either meant running towards them or straight past them. With a sinking feeling in her abdomen, Artemis realised: only one of them would be able to get out unnoticed, or neither of them.

“We have to go now,” Ava murmured, and she picked up the bag even though a few items still remained on the ground. Artemis shook her head.

“There’s still two by the door. They’ll see us if we run across,” Artemis swallowed before adding, “unless one of us distracts them.” Ava’s eyebrows raised, and Artemis continued, “It’s me they’ve recognised, and it’s me they’ll be looking for. I’ll make a scene, you run, yeah?”

“But-”

“Who’s going to have a better chance at decoding all of that, me or you?” Artemis asked, and Ava blinked, her face stubborn. “And who is the one with a year of Aurors’ duelling training under her belt?”

Reluctantly, Ava nodded her head. “I don’t like leaving you here.”

“I’ll be fine, just get that back to the meeting point, and I’ll see you there.”

Before Ava could argue, Artemis transformed into a cat and climbed up the pile of furniture, running between the assault course of assorted table legs and mattress springs until she had gotten far enough away from Ava for it to be worth her risking getting caught. Still perched up high, she transformed back again, and pointed her wand at one of the wizards.

“Incarcerus!” she shouted, as loudly as she could, missing the wizard by almost an inch. He turned towards her, and shouted to his companions as he raised his wand. But Artemis was ready, and quicker than him. Before he had finished casting his spell, she had thrown another at him. “Stupefy!”

The Stunning spell knocked him unconscious, but that didn’t matter. He had already alerted the other wizards and witch to her location, and they were coming for her. Artemis waited for one of them to see her before dropping down from her high vantage point and transforming once more, running between artefacts in her cat form to find a new position, drawing the Death Eaters away from Ava and her escape route. Once she’d found a suitable location, she emerged and transformed back again, holding her wand in hand.

“Bombarda!”

Beside the nearest Death Eater, a cauldron exploded, and he ran towards her, hurling curses that she ducked and dodged and volleyed back at them. She banished him, and he flew back through the air to crash into the stuffed troll and then down to the ground, just as the woman joined the fray, sprinting in her direction, wand raised.

“Impedimenta!” Artemis shouted, slowing down her would-be assailant, just as a voice shouted.

“The other one! She’s getting away!”

As the Death Eater turned her head in slow motion to look in the direction from which the sound of a slamming door could be heard, Artemis took her opportunity and ran, in cat form, back towards the pile of broken furniture she and Ava had been hiding behind. From so high up, she could see that the three remaining Death Eaters were standing far enough away that she would have just enough time to make it to the door herself, if she was quick.

She leapt down to the ground next to the tipped trunk, landing on her front paws and transforming so that she was crouched low to the ground in her human form. Hurriedly, she stuffed the last few documents that Ava hadn’t been able to collect into the pockets of her coat, and pushed up and forward hard enough to give her some momentum before she had even started running, throwing herself at her escape route and sprinting towards it as fast as she could.

But in her rush to get out of the room, she had forgotten to check that the two fallen Death Eaters were still fallen, an error she wasn’t aware that she had made until one of them stepped out suddenly in front of the door Ava had taken to leave the Room of Lost Things, the very same one that Artemis had been running towards.

There was still another door, however, and Artemis turned towards it, changing her direction and her plan. But as she ran to that one, another Death Eater emerged from behind a wardrobe, blocking that path, too. Her blood ran cold and she began to hear her pulse thudding in her ears.

There was nowhere left to run.

As the five Death Eaters advanced on her, surrounding her on all sides, she realised that this was a fight that she probably wouldn’t be able to win. Not that she wouldn’t try, of course. She gripped her wand tightly in her hand and raised her chin, determined not to show her opponents any weakness, even as one of the Death Eaters began to chuckle.

“Well, well. Look at what the cat dragged in.”

#artemis hexley #ava campbell #kaari arcano #the phoenix resistance #harry potter fanfiction