#( jerome is surprised when she actually asks him to go faster next time)

[thechosenanubis]

Jerome and Eddie would be motorbikes buddies.

[cainsnocreaturefeature]

She didn’t particularly know how to dance.

She also didn’t particularly know Nugget could dance.

But apparently he could, because the moment she found her bearings with those godforsaken heels Cindy insisted she wear he was leading her to the dance floor with the grace of a practiced dancer, practically running over everyone else with how tall and broad-shouldered he was. His suit made him stand out too - an incredibly light blue that appeared almost white to the untrained eye, the darker sections a cool cadet gray, his mask light blue with white handpainted snowflake designs on them. Cindy had gone all out with theirs.

I thought you’d both look great in each other’s colors, and thus, your theme, Cindy had told her offhandedly the moment she’d handed Lily her dress. So voila. A song of ice and fire. Fitting, since I thought you were a stone cold bitch before.

Pot, meet kettle, Lily had quipped back then.

Cindy scoffed. At least this round I’m a stone cold bitch to the people who deserve it. Now shoo. I need to fistfight Penny into choosing a color.

“Is the lovely Lily doing alright?”

Lily was snapped out of her reverie by a soft voice that could only belong to Nugget, whose emerald eyes shone with undisguised concern for his dance partner and date to the masquerade. “Ah… yeah, I’m fine, Nugget. Don’t worry about it.”

“Nugget will always worry about the lovely Lily,” He said seriously before raising his arm up and hers along with it - a signal for Lily to turn around once before falling back into the normal position for ballroom dancers. “But if the lovely Lily wishes for Nugget not to worry actively, then he won’t.”

A shift in the music. A turn in the tides.

The music became faster, more upbeat - and so Nugget and Lily adjusted. The clacking of Lily’s heels against the floor became more prominent as Nugget spun and twirled and dipped her like he’d been born to dance, and quite frankly Lily wondered if he’d been taking dance lessons on the side with Alice if he could dance this well-

“The lovely Lily is thinking hard again,” Nugget commented softly as he pulled her back up onto a stable standing position before leading her yet again.

Lily’s cheeks flushed gently, the fingers she’d interlocked with Nugget’s tightening slightly. “I was wondering if you’d taken dancing lessons with Alice at any point recently.”

“What made the lovely Lily think about that?” Nugget asked bemusedly.

Her cheeks darkened a little more. “I-It’s just- I didn’t know you could dance. Much less professionally. I feel like I’m dancing with a master when I’m just a beginner.”

“Nugget isn’t a master… but he did use to dance with Gramma when he was much younger,” The blond mused as the music slowed to a stop. With the end of the song, Nugget and Lily bowed to each other before joining together once more for another dance. “Gramma liked to listen to ballroom music while working, and Nugget was usually there. Nugget would dance with Gramma when she asked. Gramma taught Nugget most of what he knows.”

Lily remembered Grandma Groujon. The sweet old lady had been the lunch lady at the first kindergarten where she’d met Nugget, and honestly one of the nicest staff members present. Hell, she was unmatched - at least, until they’d met Bob in the second kindergarten.

Lily gave Nugget a smile as he lifted her in the air. The sudden loss of gravity made her panic a bit, but upon remembering that it was Nugget holding her she relaxed by a hair, her other arm going to circle around his neck. “That’s sweet, Nugget.”

“Not as sweet as the lovely Lily,” Nugget quipped.

Oh, how appropriate her attire. Suddenly her everything was on fire.

“I hate how you think you have the right to say that,” Lily grumbled as Nugget set her back down with a cheeky grin as the music slowed again to a stop.

As the musicians scrambled to set themselves upon a new piece, Nugget led Lily back to their table while he answered, “Does Nugget not have the right?”

“W- I mean. Y-yeah, of course you do…” Lily stammered before harrumphing and crossing her arms. “But it always catches me off guard! It’s not fair! I can never catch you off guard!”

Nugget blinked at her in bewilderment before admitting in the most honest tone Lily’s ever heard from him, “But the lovely Lily always catches Nugget off guard with how lovely she is every day. How can Lily say that when she does that every day?”

THERE IT IS AGAIN!

Lily wanted to disintegrate. Badly. It wasn’t fair that he could be so innocent and smooth at the same time. What kind of sick god out there let one person be both? God she just wanted to melt.

She, however, didn’t get the chance, because suddenly Nugget was seating her down on one of the chairs and he was sitting down next to her and oh, okay, so he was getting food for them. Neat. That was neat. A neat trick.

…

God she was a goner, wasn’t she?

Lily buried her face in her hands.

“Lily?”

She looked up. Standing in front of her was none other than Billy, who was peering down at her curiously. By his side was Kidd, who seemed to be on the lookout for something, but from what he’d said before when he’d shown up at the Kurosawa doorstep, she didn’t think too hard about it.

-=-=-

“You look like hell,” She told him bluntly.

Kidd barked out a harsh laugh. His left arm rested against the doorframe as he tried to catch his breath. “Tell me something I don’t know, Lilith.”

“Ooh, my full name, I’m terrified,” Lily rolled her eyes before yelping as Kidd swooned and quite nearly fell over her. “Jesus, Kidd! I know I said you look like hell but you don’t need to prove it!”

With a muffled groan, Kidd just rested his chin on top of Lily’s head. “Can I please come in. Please.”

“Dumbass. Of course you can, come on- BILLY! GET OVER HERE! KIDD NEEDS HELP!”

A crashing noise. A bang.

Billy tumbled down the stairs unharmed before scrambling to his feet to assist.  Lily didn’t even bother asking why he’d tumbled down the stairs at the call. “It’s like, nearly nightfall, Kidd. Shouldn’t you be home?”

“Can’t go home. Someone killed Alice.”

“SOMEONE KILLED-” Kidd immediately slapped his hands on both LIly and Billy’s mouths, shushing them harshly.

“The door’s still WIDE OPEN. Come on, let’s move this inside.”

He shut the door behind him.

-=-=-

“Hey, Billy,” Lily greeted, straightening up. “Party going well for you?”

“Mmhm. Can’t get anybody to dance with though. Don’t blame them - they’ve got you and Nugget to beat, after all,” Billy winked, causing Lily to flush furiously again. “Aw, don’t be shy. You two are great at dancing.”

“He is, anyway - you know I’m terrible at this!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Lil. It’s just dancing,” Billy punched her shoulder before crossing his legs and crossing his arms, leaning back on his chair. For Billy, Cindy had chosen a practically nonexistent motif, claiming that he was ‘water’ in contrast to Nugget’s ice and Lily’s fire. But that was probably just her bullshitting, she reasoned. “And besides, you know as well as I do that he loves you regardless.”

There was the word again. You’d think she’d be used to it by now, but noooo.

“Are you actually blushing because I said he l-”

“Stop. D. Don’t.” Lily quite nearly gnashed her knuckles with her teeth.

Billy gave her a deadpan stare. “You two. Are LITERALLY dating.”

“ALMOST dating. That’s the difference. We haven’t formally asked each other out yet-”

“WHAT THE F-”

“CALM DOWN, BILLY! YEESH!” Lily reached out to shoosh him, settling him back down into his chair just as Nugget came back with what appeared to be an array of entrees all arranged on one platter and at least three different drinks on another platter.

Billy gave him a grin as Nugget set them all down. “Already taking a hit at the buffet table?”

“Before Ron does, yes,” Nugget quipped before sitting down next to Lily again. “Nugget sees you have been hanging around friend Kidd still. Any luck on that front?”

Billy’s red face told Nugget everything.

“Nugget supposed not. Such is the plight of poor Billy.”

“Don’t make us sound like some Shakespearean tragedy, geez,” Billy grumbled. “Anyway, Buggs found Madison, Jerome, and Ozzy earlier.” He gestured towards the side, where Buggs and the trio were heading over.

Lily perked up - it’d been a while since she’d seen any of them. Since any of them had seen the trio abroad, actually. “Oh! They made it!” Pause. “Wait, Buggs made it too? Where’d he get an outfit? Did Cindy know he’d make it?”

“Uh. That’s the surprise, actually. We helped him do some last minute shopping. Don’t tell Cindy, okay?” Billy shushed her with a conspiratorial grin. The last time Lily had seen that grin, he’d been trying to set up for Monty and/or Carla to admit that they were in some way or form dating. It hadn’t been a success.

Lily gave him a look.

“Lil, c’mon. It’ll work, trust me.” Billy reassured as Cindy the parrot neared them, fluttering over to Nugget and nestling in his hair. “This is like, Buggs and Cindy we’re talking about here. They’re not as skittish about the topic as Carla and Monty.”

“About what topic?” Buggs asked, raising an eyebrow as he stood right behind Billy’s chair.

Billy leaned backwards to give him a grin. “About Cindy and you being in a relationship.”

“How many times do I have to beat the idea out of your soul, Kurosawa?” Buggs grumbled. “She’s not looking, I’m still soul searching. Not ready for anything and I sure as hell will not burden her with the me running around trying to find myself.”

“And Nugget’s not in love with Lily,” Billy shot back flatly, making Lily choke on the glass of Four Seasons she’d begun to drink. Nugget seemed oddly placid about it, smiling pleasantly at Billy as he patted and rubbed Lily’s back as she choked. “Seriously, dude. You named your parrot after her. You might as well be making googoo gaga eyes.”

“Like you are with Kidd?” Buggs replied just as dryly. “Don’t fucking shoot things at me that you do yourself, dirt for brains.”

Billy turned red, and Lily looked up at Kidd. Thankfully enough, he didn’t seem to have heard - but he did have his sights set elsewhere. “Kidd?”

“...”

“Kidd.” Lily called again.

“... Huh? Oh,” Kidd turned back to face them. It was eerie, the way Cindy had designed his mask. While everyone else’s masks had the traditional eyeholes, Kidd’s mask had three horizontal slits for each eyehole instead, hiding whatever his eyes could have been expressing in terms of emotions. The mask itself also curved in such a way that the scars visible on his face were hidden the best they could be. Everything about his mask obscured his face, and while she supposed it was typical of Kidd, it was still eerie in general. “What is it, Lily?”

Lily pursed her lips as Madison, Ozzy, and Jerome all took their seats around them at the table. Maybe they needed to get two tables. “You seem distracted. Pretty girl catch your eye?”

She was mostly jokingly referring to Alice, but Kidd only replied with, “Sure. I guess you could say that,” before turning back to where he was looking.

“Seriously, Kidd. You seem tense,” Jerome rested his cheek against his palm, his elbow on the table as he looked at Kidd. “I know pretty girls wouldn’t bother you like this. You’re like… unflappable.”

“Thanks…?”

“You know what I mean. Spill.”

“Just... looking out for Ted and Penny, that’s all,” Kidd admitted, visibly turning his head so the others could follow where he was looking - to Ted, being forced to converse with what appeared to be Applesoft’s business partners alongside his father and mother.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Huxley had at least one of their hands on his shoulders in such a manner that made it seem as though they were afraid to let go of him, but from where they were all watching, it seemed that Ted was quickly slipping into a comfortable manner of speech with the partners - a good sign. Ted had been anxious about the whole thing from the beginning, so to see him at least relaxing slightly about it meant that he’d be okay, at the very least.

“He looks like he’s doing well,” Buggs commented mildly.

Madison looked around curiously. “But where’s Penny?”

“Probably still fist fighting Cindy about her dress,” Lily echoed offhandedly. When everyone turned to stare at her words, it occurred to her that maybe she should have worded that differently. “I mean. Uh. When I got my dress Cindy shooed me away so she could ask Penny which of her dresses she’d be wearing and coordinate accessories for it. There’s a possibility Penny hasn’t chosen yet.”

Jerome raised an eyebrow. “This late into the party?”

“She could just put on red to match Ted,” Ozzy mused, observing Ted’s outfit. “He looks dashing. Why the feather motif though?”

“Something about swans, I bet,” Buggs said. “She’s been dying to make something about them for forever.”

Billy hummed, sipping on his own drink. “Would explain the feather motif on Penny’s dress too. I like it.”

“You like everything she makes.” Jerome snorted. 

“She’s good at her work!”

“Is that the kind Penny?”

Nugget’s words caught everyone’s attentions as they followed to where he was pointing. From the entrance of the ballroom from the garden side, a cloaked figure entered the fray, holding one of the invitations to the masquerade. As the figure pulled back the hood, a familiar mask and blonde hair revealed itself.

“So she went with the red one. Nice. Never seen Penny in red before,” Ozzy leaned forward on the table, lacing his fingers together and making a cushion for his chin. “She looks absolutely radiant.”

Madison hummed in agreement. “Ted’s got good taste.”

“She really is a vision in red...” Lily agreed before looking at Kidd, who seemed to be oddly stiff. “... Kidd?”

“... I need to talk to Penny,” were his only words before he took off, leaving the party in the dust.

“Where’s he off to in such a rush?” Buggs asked, raising an eyebrow as Kidd weaved through the various ballroom dancers to get to the lady in red across the room. “Penny would’ve found us sooner or later. He didn’t need to run.”

Billy tugged on his sleeve nervously. “... Maybe he really needed to tell her something.”

-=-=-

“Alice died. But I looped. Remember when I looped when we were kids and I told you that it suddenly stopped?”

“I can loop again. But before I found out, Alice died.”

“She died because of something a lot like Penny’s old laser.”

“There’s something wrong, you two. And I think Penny and Ted are the eye of the storm.”

-=-=-

Lily shook her head free of the things Kidd had told her. At the feeling of Nugget’s hand gently holding hers, she only sighed and squeezed his hand, trying to reassure herself that Kidd was probably just paranoid.

He probably isn’t though. He’s never been wrong about these things... right?

... Right.

[thelittlestcheshire]

Self Para 003: Logan’s Birthday

I bet you’ll see him sooner than you think.

As hard as Ches tried to forget her youngest sister’s words throughout the day, and to stop checking her messages every five seconds in case any of her siblings actually texted her what they were up to; it was hard. All she wanted was to know what Ella was on about, how sooner would she see her brother? A day before graduation? Two days? Weeks? The anticipation had her restless, bouncing in her seat as she tried her hardest to focus on her work, unable to answer quite what she was so excited about anytime someone asked or gave her as much as a confused glance.

“If you had a tail, you might actually take flight. Manage to talk to Elliot?” Zander asks as he sits down next to her in their last class of the day, the girl makes a face when he mentions the boy she had actually managed to successfully push out of the forefront of her brain today.

“Hell no, there’s nothing to discuss. It’s Logan’s birthday, I’m gonna call him after class.” Ches rolls her eyes as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Apologize to the guy who fucked up your face yet?”  Honestly, she didn’t think he had any desire to actually apologize to Jack, but if they were going to go tread on subjects they clearly didn’t want to discuss, it was the best one she could pull from her sleeve at the moment.

“You know what, forget it. You’re right, nothing to discuss.” He gives her a look before he looks away to open his notebook. Before she can ask him about the tone, however, the bell rings to signify the start of class. With a sigh, the bottle-blonde looks away from him to try to focus on her work the best she could at the moment.

---

The class seemed to drag on today, even though she really liked Shakespearean Studies, she didn’t want to do any of this today. It was impossible to not glance at the clock every couple minutes, waiting for the bell to ring so she could dart out of the room to call the siblings who were clearly ignoring her text messages. By the time the teacher was done teaching and her peers were chattering as they waited for the bell to ring,  saying the girl was restless was an understatement. When her phone finally goes off, the girl is moving the fastest she’d ever moved to answer a text to check it.

🦁 (Emmett): Check your locker ASAP, you’ve got a surprise!

A puzzled look crosses her features as she reads her brother’s text message, what kind of surprise from Emmett would require her to be at her locker immediately? And why would he deliver it on Logan’s birthday? The answer clicks within seconds and the girl is hastily packing up her stuff and all but glaring at the clock to hurry up. By the time the final bell rings, she’s up and out of her seat, running towards her locker. The second she turns the corner and notices her oldest brother leaned up against her locker holding a coffee cup, the girl excitedly screeches, much to the chagrin of everyone around her, and sprints faster than she had in months over to him. “Logan! You’re here!” She throws herself into his hug with so much force, coffee spills all over his sweater and her school uniform, but she doesn’t care. “You’re really here, and I’m so happy to see you. It’s your birthday and you’re here.” The girl is already starting to cry tears of joy as she clings to the man, and for once, she doesn’t care if the entire student body saw her crying. She was elated, and if they didn’t like it, well, she didn’t care.

“I was surprised when Emmett finally told me where we were going, the boys are in the car, dropped the girls off fast before coming over. I take it he didn’t tell you either?” Logan Elswood squeezes his sister a bit tighter as he says the words, seeming not to mind the fact they’re both covered in hot coffee as he hugs her. “I’ve missed you too, kiddo. Don’t suppose you could free up your schedule enough to go grab a bite to eat, spend some time with this old man, huh?”

Did he truly think that for a second she wouldn’t tell this entire school they could wait and not cancel all of her plans in a heartbeat? Ches hoped not, because this was a no brainer to her. “Consider them canceled already! I can’t believe you’re actually here.” She pulls away, although not completely willing to look him over. “You’re looking well, dude. Even if I just spilled your coffee all over you.” She smiles, looking him up and down carefully. There were no hints of powder on his face, his nose didn’t look raw in the slightest, and she actually starts to cry harder as she realizes he’s doing well, that he’s actually okay. “How long are you here for? Please say you’re staying for a while.”

“Wish we could kiddo, the girls are fighting to stay through the weekend, but we might be heading back tonight.” Logan looks apologetic as he says the words, the frown crossing his features feeling almost like a stab to the heart. “But you know, when I said the boys, I meant all of them so… this is for you.” He offers her the cup as it suddenly clicks why he was waiting by his locker with coffee of all liquids. Jamie was also here, a thought that made her want to find Elliot just warn him to avoid her until the menace was out of town. Although as she opens her locker to put her books away, she remembers he was doing that just fine on his own without the warning already.

“I’ll need about ten of those if he starts up, but I’ll try to be nice.” She warns him as she finally takes the cup, taking a sip. He still remembered her coffee order, that was nice. “Mind if we head to my room for like ten minutes so I can get into comfy clothes before we head out.” It’s not really a question as she closes her locker and starts to head in that direction, expecting her brother to just follow. “If anyone bitches about no guests in dorms, well, they can fuck right off today.”

“Language.” Logan scolds her, shaking his head as he indeed does follow her through the school. “What have I told you about the language?”

“There are no kids here!” Regardless of the protest, the guilt she feels probably is showing on her face. “But you’re right, I gotta mind the tongue. How’s the little princess doing? Still hasn’t said her first word?” She hadn’t heard of it if Isabelle had, so she figured that the child hadn’t. After all, nobody in their family would be so heartless to not immediately tell Ches her niece had spoken her first word.

“She’s doing well, I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you.” Logan shrugs as they reach the girl’s dorms. “Still no real words, she’s doing a lot of what you call the French babble sound though.” The news causes her to grin, was she actually going to be right on the language the kid’s first word was in? She had no idea but she was going to take this as evidence for her theory all the same.

“Probably not as excited as I am to see her.” Ches laughs, the words genuine regardless of her jokes. She was finally going to see her niece after months of missing the child, the realization only caused her to pick up the pace to the common room she shared with Callie, letting the two of them inside. “Okay, if my roommate comes in, don’t scare her off, I’ll be right back.” She hands him his coffee before she all but runs into her room, shutting the door behind her as she quickly rushes to find clothes more suitable for celebrating her brother’s birthday with the people she loved most. It’s probably the fastest she’d gotten ready in years, changing her clothes and fixing her makeup faster then she’d usually shower for even.

She grabs her purse on her way out the door, turning around to lock her bedroom door before they head out. Before she can suggest they start heading for the parking lot, however, Logan’s talking to her again.  “Hey, Ches, why don’t we invite that Elliot kid you keep talking about?”

“No!” She answers, a bit too quickly as she scrambles to find a valid excuse other than admitting she’d been rejected. “He’s allergic to rabbits, you brought Jerome right? We absolutely can not invite him! Nobody wants to do a first meeting while suffering from allergies.” As she turns to look back at her brother, she can tell he doesn’t believe her.

“Could I meet him before I leave, at least?”

“He’s got piano practice!” Ches starts to walk out of the common room, the sooner she gets Logan off of Luxor’s campus, the better. Before they actually ran into someone who’d try to help him meet the boy she currently was avoiding.

“He’s got piano practice all weekend without breaks?” The tone of Logan’s voice is one she knows a bit too well, she didn’t even have to look at him to know that he was giving her the look he gave her every time he knew she was lying to him. Fuck.

“He’s very dedicated to his craft. We really shouldn’t interrupt him.”

“Ches, I could probably make a novel out of how much you’ve told me I have to meet this boy the next time I’m in town. Perhaps not a very exciting one, but you’ve said at least 50,000 words. What’s going on?” He knows her way too well, something she’d usually appreciate but currently was almost annoying. He offers her back her coffee as she starts to pout, and the girl takes it from him and eagerly takes a sip as they walk.

“I just don’t think I should be bringing the guy I like around the family with Jamie in town, you know? It’s probably stupid, but, I don’t trust him not to make moves and I’m surprised Eli even can stand being around me sometimes.” It’s not a complete lie, she supposed, but it’s not exactly the reason she’s refusing to let Logan anywhere near him. “I’ll introduce you during graduation? It’s just really not a good time.”  As she glances over her shoulder, she knows he’s still not buying it but he nods.

“Okay, if you need to talk-“

“I’ll come to you. Right now, we need to leave all the baggage at the door because today’s about you. You’re turning 50, we’ve gotta celebrate the whole totally skipping out on the gray hair thing, clearly!” She winks at him as she takes the shortest possible route to the office. “That’s an achievement, I think.”

“You know, with you guys, 24 might actually be the new 50.” Logan chuckles, “whatever am I going to do with you?”

“Too late to sell us on Craigslist, pretty sure the feds can sniff that for miles now. eBay? I dunno. You’ll figure it out.” She grins, “though I’d wait a few weeks. These guys are probably gonna ask questions if I don’t sign back in at some point.”

“Could say Mr. Elswood pulled you out of school.”

“Which one would do that?” She eye rolls as she opens the door to the main office. “I should probably drive over by myself and meet you guys at the house, want me to steal a few of your passengers?” She asks as they approach the front desk to sign out.

“If you wanna take Emmett, by all means. I’ll keep the rest with me. You sure you don’t wanna invite anyone? Lucy? She’s always welcome to invade.”

“Positive.” Ches finishes signing her name quickly, “now hurry up. I’ve got a baby to kiss and a brother to save from Jamie.”

“You don’t…” Logan starts, but as he trails off, he starts to write even faster. “Actually, you’re right we should go separate the boys.” He sets the pen on the desk, taking even longer strides than usual as the two hurry to the parking lot.

“I’m just saying I regret not pushing you out of the car on the highway.” Emmett’s voice could be heard across the parking lot, and as much as Ches regretted Emmett didn’t push Jamie out of the car on the highway as well, she runs over to the sound. Trying to hold back a smile when she sees just how frustrated Jamie looks.

“Now, that’s not any way to talk in front of Logan on his birthday!” The scolding is a bit mocking as she winks at the two boys. She ignores them as she opens one of the rear car doors, a grin quickly forming on her face as she watches a certain ten-month-old child’s expression light up as soon as she sees her. “Oh, I missed you too. How’s my sweet baby girl doing?” The words are in French, easily slipping off her tongue as she unbuckles her niece’s car seat and picks her up. “I’ve missed you so much.” She kisses the girl’s cheek loudly a couple of dozen times.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Jonah jokes, “your favorite twin rides in the car with these two for hours, and Belle gets loved on first? I see how it is.” She knows that laugh, he’s not serious or offended in the slightest, so she just continues doting over the child.

“Chien.” The baby in her arms giggles and Ches’s mouth drops. That was French, Belle was speaking French. Maybe it was the wrong animal, but it was the right language.

She looks over to the girl’s father quickly, “please tell me you heard that.”

“She said chien!” The man gasps, quickly moving to take the girl from her to dote over her himself. Ches hands her to him, ignoring the throbbing in her heart as she already has to let go of the child as she does so. “This is the best birthday present, huh Belle?”

“The best word too, if I say so,” Jonah adds in as Ches loops around the car to hug him. “Though pretty sure someone owes Ches money now.” She raises an eyebrow at him as she hugs her twin brother, just waiting for it to sink in that he was part of that betting pool.

“Yeah, you do.” Jamie reminds him, “and I do. What’d Emmett put in the pool?”

“French, because unlike you I’m not a complete dumbass.” Emmett shrugs, “Ches was speaking French, who’d have guessed the kid learned some!”

“You made bets on my daughter’s first words?” Logan doesn’t seem surprised, regardless of the question. “Can’t we go back to betting on normal stuff like how long the pizza will take to arrive?” He starts hooking Belle back into her car seat as he talks, much to Ches’s disappointment. She could hold the child again later, it wasn’t like she already had to say goodbye.

“Pretty sure normal people don’t start a betting pool for their pizza delivery estimates. Not that I know a lot of those.”  Emmett shrugs, “anyway, I call Ches’s shotgun. Have a safe drive back to the house, feel free to push Jamie out of the vehicle for me!” He doesn’t wait for anyone to say anything before he’s pulling Ches away from Jonah and towards the student parking lot, ignoring Jonah’s complaints about cutting into his Ches time in the process.

Clearly, something was bothering him, and while Ches had a theory on part of it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just Jamie invading his birthday plans for Logan. As she gets in the car, the first thing Ches does is pass him the aux cord in hopes of letting him get whatever he’s feeling out there.

After all, they both had a day of celebrations waiting for them once they arrived back at the vacation home. The sooner they both got out everything bringing them down, the better. It was Logan’s birthday, it was supposed to be all excitement, balloons, and cake. Once the car ride was done, there was no more time for sadness.

This was Logan’s party, and she was going to try her best to have fun and be nice to Jamie, just because that’s what Logan wanted her to do. Elliot, Lucy, everything could wait one more night. The most important thing tonight was her family was here, that she was going to be able to hug Logan and celebrate with him as they figured out together what Emmett had planned for the night. She wasn’t going to let her drama or Jamie ruin it for any of them.

The girl puts her phone on silent before she pulls out of the student parking lot, if someone needed her, they were just going to have to wait until she was back on campus later.

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Hi Gorgeous (Jerome Valeska x Reader)

When Jerome escapes the asylum, you have no idea how you’re going to hide.  Quite a bit different from the show!  I wanted to write something that would give you a slight taste of what Jerome would really be like if he were psychotic and loved someone.  Because, let’s face it, he’d be abusive.

Warnings: Abuse, and a sassy reader! 

Words: I don’t know, something around 3200. 

Shameless references if you can find ‘em!

“What do you mean he’s escaped?”

“He broke out of the asylum a few days ago. We have no idea where he might be, but we’re doing the best we can,” Jim Gordon told you over the phone.

“What am I supposed to do if he’s out in Gotham right now? Not only am I in the city, but if he finds me he’s going to kill me. He hates me.”

“Get to your house immediately. Lock your windows and doors. I’ll be over later to check on you, (Y/N). We’ll get him before he can hurt anybody,” He promised you.

A small part of you wished that he was right. It seems like that part of you took over instead of the majority that was saying there’s no way. “I’m going home now. I’ll call you if I see him anywhere, Jim.”

“Good. Don’t open the door for anyone, and I’ll call you when I get to the door. Other than that, stay safe.”

“I’ll try.”

~

You made it all the way to your house without seeing the ginger-haired freak, and you were glad. He’d torture you slowly and painfully if he caught you anywhere. You could be in the middle of a restaurant and he’d make sure everyone saw the pain in your eyes.

You shut and locked the door as soon as you walked into the hallway. You pulled the table that was nearby in front of the door so at least it would slow him down. Since it was winter, most of the locks on the windows were placed anyway. You double-checked them and closed the curtains.

Maybe you were slightly over-cautious as you made sure there was no technology on to hear him coming, and bringing a precision knife along with you in case you needed to make a quick escape. Maybe you weren’t being cautious enough.

It felt like only yesterday that you were best friends with Jerome, and in reality, it had been well over a year. It felt like it’s been over a year since Lila died, but it didn’t feel like a year since you lost your best friend.

“Jerome, I swear to God, if you throw one more dart at the balloons I’m making you pay for a full game,” You said, annoyed at the grinning 14-year old boy.

“Aw, come on (Y/N)! It’s all just for fun!” He exclaimed. He picked up the last dart and aimed for the balloon right above your head. He wanted to show off his accuracy and precision, but he also knew this would be 5 bucks out of his pocket that he just saved up in 3 weeks.

“Yeah, it’s fun for you. If Steve finds three popped balloons I’m going to be in a world of trouble from everyone. I’ll be cleaning up Lizzie’s crap for the next three months,” You groaned. Lizzie was Haly’s Circus’ prized elephant, and it was not fun to have to clean up after her every night.

“It’s better than working for Fiona. She may give you candy after every time you help her with something, but you aren’t done until she says it’s perfect.”

“Fiona is trying to teach you how to perfectly set up the trapeze area so that no one falls and dies. If you kill a Grayson you’ll have that whole family teaming up to slaughter you.”

“It’s better than having to work with my mother at least,” Jerome grumbled as he walked off to sit on the rocks near a river. You followed him without even thinking about it. That was the best part of your friendship. Even if you did annoy each other, where one went, the other followed.

“You’re kidding, right? Lila is so easy to work with. You can set everything up in 10 minutes and when she comes over to yell at you about how everything is wrong, you throw Jimmy at her and you’re good for the day,” The two of you laughed. You knew Jerome well enough that you could joke to him about his mom and he’d go along with it. You were the only one he trusted enough.

Maybe one day that memory could be bittersweet, but for now, it only brought you pain. You trusted Jerome with your life, and he trusted you will all of his. You knew well enough that you wouldn’t be able to trust him after he killed his mom. That dark glint in his eyes whenever you mentioned Lila should have warned you about that.

Back then you thought Jerome was the sweet boy instead of Jeremiah. Jeremiah always seemed off, and it wasn’t always just because he was much smarter than the rest of you. His intentions always seemed pretty odd. The time you found out what Jeremiah was really like was when you were only 13 years old.

“Hey, Jerome! Where’s that brother of yours? I thought he’d be reading a book behind your trailer, but I didn’t see him anywhere. Haly needs his amazing math skills,” You asked Jerome as you walked up to him. He was feeding one of the lions at the time. As soon as he looked up at you, you could see the pain and darkness. You had no idea what happened yet.

Lila walked up to you before you could say anything else. “(Y/N), I don’t want you talking to my son anymore. See, we had to send Jeremiah away because we wanted to give him a better life,” She stated as she led you away from Jerome.

“Why? Why didn’t you send Jerome away instead? He’s better than Jeremiah. Jeremiah was all book smarts, Jerome has a little bit of everything.”

“That’s the problem, sweetie. Jeremiah came to my room a few days ago crying. Jerome was holding a steak knife to his throat when he woke up. I can’t let Jerome kill his brother, and I don’t want him to be able to hurt you as well. If he can kill his brother, he could kill anyone.”

“So that’s why you held Jerome back,” She nodded her head before you could finish, “Because he reminds you of you.”

“Excuse me?!” Her face contorted in anger.

“All you’ve been doing since they were born was kill them slowly. All the beatings they took, the mental abuse, and having to hear you getting it freaky with a clown every night. Or was it an acrobat last week? I can’t remember, but then again, I’m sure you can’t either.”

“You bitch!” She slapped you so hard and quickly that you feared you might have whiplash.

Jerome watched it all go down from afar. He couldn’t hear anything either one of them said, but as soon as he saw his mother place a hand on (Y/N) he knew he had to step in.

That following night involved Jerome sleeping over in your trailer as he tried helping you with the red handprint on your cheek. He made sure you were alright and still stayed with you the entire night to comfort you. If anyone knew the damage she could cause with a single slap, it was him.

Time seemed to pass by fairly quickly considering the situation. You were surprised that it was. If only it would go by just a little bit faster though. You guess it was from the memories you recalled with Jerome that made time fly.

You checked the windows and locks on the doors again, worried he might have slipped in at some point while you were dazed. You knew he couldn’t though, he would have made it known he was inside the house as soon as he stepped foot in it.

How you wished you’d be able to recall childhood memories as something that was fun, you wished you could look back into your past with nostalgia like normal, people. Unfortunately, you knew just how far from normality you were.

“Today is the day I kill that whore,” Jerome stormed into your trailer and flopped onto the couch. Since you were 18, you were able to save up money for a trailer of your own and you would let Jerome in whenever he needed to get away from his mom. Sometimes he would stay for the whole night, other times it would only be for a few hours.

“You don’t really mean that, Jerome. You’re just tired of her. Soon enough we’ll have enough money to take off and go somewhere else. As soon as the show’s over tonight, we can find a place in Gotham to stay at,” You assured Jerome. You sat next to him and placed your hand overtop his. He quickly pulled his hand back and moved to start pacing in front of you.

“No, not this time. I’m going to make sure she feels the pain that I’ve felt for years before she finally croaks,” He started laughing darkly. You were almost afraid of him.

“She’s not worth it. Don’t waste your time on a woman like that, just stay here for the rest of the night if you have to and we’ll leave,” You tried convincing him. Knowing him, if he said he wanted to do something, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He didn’t just bluff.

“She hurt me more than I could ever hurt her. She should get to feel what fear is like, what it’s like to limp out of the trailer with blood gushing out of your head. She hurt me, she hurt you, and I’ve had it. She’s going to die,” He said before running out of your trailer in search of whatever he needed to kill her.

You ran out and tried to follow him, but he was too fast. Who knows what he was up to now. You didn’t know if you’d protect him or not if he actually committed the crime. All you knew was that he was gone, and you had no idea when or if he’d be back.

The slightest noise of wind knocking down a branch made you jump out of your memory. It was almost completely silent in your home, which you loved most of the time. Right now, you almost wanted to hear the sound of another person talking, as long as it wasn’t him.

“Jerome, don’t tell me you really did it,” You said as soon as you saw him walk into your trailer. He had a bright grin on his face, and his eyes lit up like diamonds. You would never suspect him of killing anyone.

“I did! I’m free from her, for the first time in 18 years,” He said, relieved.

Your heart wrenched as you heard him admit it. Hearing Jerome admit that he killed his mother made it true, the reality. Your face must’ve paled considerably as Jerome’s expression turned from happy to concerned. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

“You killed Lila?” You barely choked out.

“Yeah! Don’t you see it? We can go wherever we want now, with no one around to stop us! We can have a life!” Jerome continued to exclaim in happiness, not even realizing that he was backing you into a corner.

You noticed this, however, and your eyes widened in fear. You quickly looked around for anything that you could grab and use if he laid a hand on you. “Jerome, that’s great,” You smiled, trying to fake the happiness.

"I know!  Tonight, after the show, we'll get out of here while the circus leaves.  We can go and have a life in Gotham like you wanted."

"Yeah, absolutely.  But, Jerome, you might want to go pack a few things, right?  So we can leave right after the show."  

"I'll go now, I promise you this'll be a great start for us," He kissed your cheek before he walked out of the trailer.  

The phone started ringing and you answered it immediately.  You expected Jim to be on the other end, but you were in for a rude awakening.  "Hello?"

"(Y/N)!"  Jerome greeted you.  Your blood ran cold as you heard his voice.  You could see him now, a grin on his face, the phone held up against his ear, his blue eyes staring right into your (e/c) orbs.  Even when he was nowhere in sight, your brain could produce his image in a second.  It could add the blood and psychotic glint in his eyes even faster than that.

"Jerome," You said his name, barely above a whisper.  The strength you built up as you were coming home was instantly drained at the sound of his voice.  

"How've you been?  Oh, nevermind that, I'll find out when I come to see you.   Y'see, when I was stuck in that place full of lunatics, I have no idea why they sent me there," He cut off into a small fit of laughter, "All I could think about was you.  The way you look, the way you walk, the way you talk, I could write a song!  I should write a song," You knew Jerome well enough that sometimes he'd get distracted by another thought that flew through his head.

"What do you want, Jerome?"

"Oh, I thought I made that clear.  I want you dead," Jerome said with venom laced in his voice, "I'll see you soon!  Bye-bye!"  He ended the call with a chirpy attitude as if what he said before didn't exist.  

You quickly called up Jim right after to tell him what happened.  "He called you?"  Jim asked as soon as you finished the story.  

"Yes, and I still don't see the point of it unless," Just as you figured it out, Jim spoke up.

"(Y/N), turn your phone off now, he must've used the call to track you.  I'll be there soon," He ended the call abruptly.  Following his orders, you quickly turned the device off.  A part of you wanted to destroy it for extra measure.  Even though he may have your location now, this may slow him down.

You got the knife ready, tucked into your pocket, reassuring you that you aren't completely defenseless here.  It could be ten minutes or an hour until either Jerome or Jim shows up.  You hoped it was Jim first.

"Detective Gordon, is there any chance we can get out soon?  We've been waiting here all night," You asked when you spotted Jim walking across the precinct.  For the past 3 hours, you've been stuck in GCPD as they took statements from everyone on Lila's death.

"I want to go over your statement one more time actually, and then you'll be free to go,"  He smiled slightly.  You nodded and followed him to the interrogation room.

You sat down in the chair furthest away from the door and waited until Gordon and Bullock walked in.  "Your name?"

"(Y/F/N)."

"Date of birth?"

As you continued to rattle off everything about your identity, you played with the end of your sleeve.  Staying in here much longer was going to make you snap.  You wanted to tell them that you know it was Jerome who did it, but he was so far around the bend that you knew he'd find you and kill you.  

"Where were you tonight?"

"I was helping out in the show.  I work mainly with the lighting and making sure no one screws up," You tried telling a joke to ease the mood.  Gordon gave a small smile before writing the information down.

"You're friends with Lila Valeska's son, Jerome, right?"

"Yes, sir.  We were once dating, but it's gotten complicated.  I'm not sure you could say we're dating anymore."  

"I'm sorry to hear that.  He seems to talk about you a lot.  Something going on there?"  You knew he was fishing for the information.  He must've had reason to believe Jerome was Lila's murderer.  You took the bait.  Either you tell them Jerome did it and have him locked away where he hates you or be stuck with him for an indefinite amount of time.  You knew what to do.

"He did things I would never approve of, and he knows it.  I was getting tired of it."

"Any illegal things?"

"Yes."

"What kinds of things would he do?"

You hesitated, fearing what you were about to say would decide your fate.  In a way, it did.  Bullock, intrigued, leaned against the table, ready to hear what he was anticipating.  "Jerome walked into my trailer this afternoon, saying he was going to kill Lila.  All his life he's been beaten by her.  She's a drunk, and she'd beat him until she needed to go sleep with someone or get another bottle of vodka.  I always felt bad for him, and I comforted him.  Today though, something snapped in him.  He left after telling me he'd kill her, and I'd have to guess he followed through it."

Just as you were about to walk upstairs, you heard a banging on the door.  It wasn't like Jim's banging though.  Jim's was much harder than that, and you knew who exactly it was because of it.  "GCPD," Jerome sang giddily.  

You ran up the stairs as silently as possible and found a closet.  You swung in and shut the door, hiding behind a couple boxes off to the side.  You couldn't see the door, and you knew you wouldn't be able to tell anyone was there unless you moved it.  You could hear the front door as it swung open, hitting the wall.  You jumped at the sound.

"Honey, I'm home!" He yelled out.  "Where are you, (Y/N)?  I know you're around here somewhere."  

You heard him tearing through the downstairs rooms with a loud stomp.  Every once in a while, a gunshot could be heard, obviously trying to make you yelp in terror.  "You know, I could almost forgive you for ratting me out at the police department.  Eh, maybe not,"  Another gunshot was heard.

"The worst part was watching the TV, saying you once loved me.  Notice the past tense!  You even mentioned once that I was a monster," He said in a dramatic gasp.  "Now, I think we should just end this little lover's quarrel of ours."

You heard him making his way up the stairs.  "See, I've seen how it is with you.  You think, 'poor Jerome, maybe if I keep him busy I can use him just like his dear mommy did.'  Well, that's not how it's going to end up.  I can't tell if you should die like my whore of a mother did or show you that there's no shame in being crazy like me.  Y'know, I think it could really work out between us if you see it the way I see it.  I mean, look at how I turned out!  I'm great!  We could be the king and queen of Gotham, you and I.  You just have to show me where you're at."

Bang!  You could hear the door open.  Memories of sharing cotton candy with Jerome flashed in your eyes.

Bang!  This time you saw the nights where you had to comfort a crying 8-year-old boy who you barely knew even if you did work together a lot.

Bang! Playing pranks on the Flying Graysons.

Bang! Counting how many fish there were in the pond.

Bang! You saw the light shine through the boxes.  A dark figure loomed over you.  You heard the shuffling of boxes on one side, and then you saw the ones in front of you move back.  You looked up to see a man with ginger hair, bright blue eyes and brandishing a wide and psychotic grin.

"Hi, gorgeous."

[imaginesbymk]

Petrichor.

03 — BLONDIE.

Jerome Valeska x OC Fanfiction

Gotham x Black Mirror

Cameron Monaghan as Jerome/Jeremiah Valeska

Kaya Scodelario as Kate Linton

[Chapter Index] [Wattpad Link]

DALLAS RECORDS HAD the most worn down store out of the rest connected beside it. Jim was surprised it was still up and running despite how the place looked like it was about to tumble to ashes and dust if someone poked it. The records were old, popular decades hits and even though everyone is a sucker for Elvis or The Beatles, some come and go and never come back to purchase more. They had other ways to listen to music. So why keep Dallas Records?

The sales associate at the cashier didn't enjoy Jim's approach as he was only looking forward to desperately make another sale. "Nah, the last I've seen him was the few days ago before he died, if that's actually what happened to him."

"Did anyone with the name of Teresa Merritt come here? Possibly days before he died? You remember?"

The guy puckered his lips looking away to think. "No. Quite practically, this record store is dead. No one comes in here to buy anything. And speaking of which—"

"I don't wanna buy music, I just need some information, I'm at work."

"Well I'm not gonna be the best at giving you some."

"Why not?"

"Why would I? I never know the names of the customers, that's just fuckin' weird."

Jim had hit another dead end. "Please be one-hundred percent sure you didn't see any woman named Teresa Merritt?"

"I'm positive, Sir. I can give you the surveillance tapes of the previous days if that will do much. But if anything, that name to me sounds fake. I know some people at bars fake names like how they fake IDs. Now are you gonna buy anything? My break's in five."

Hesitantly but rather going for it anyway, Jim pulls out a record of The Supremes and puts it on the counter.

The swing of the door made the bell on top jingle. As if the world had turned upside down, a young woman stepped in, shivering a bit from the outdoors. Her pointy nose was red due to the frigid weather and it contrasted the pale skin that gave out her face and blue eyes. She lets out a huff. "I hate winter."

Jim and the associate turned their direction to the woman. Jim looked at her carefully and puts two and two together—

"WAIT A MINUTE!" Jerome sat up from the bean bag. "So it was you! Or at least a suspect! You just had blonde hair at that time and came up with a name!"

"Do I look blonde to you all of a sudden?"

"A wig. You were wearing a wig."

"Like I said, if it was me then my DNA would have been on Dallas Edman. But he died lying on his couch, no trace. Now can I continue?"

"I DON'T GO TO SIRENS," the woman said. "It's bad enough one of the owners went to Arkham."

"That's not a reasonable excuse. Anyone would go in." The interrogation room was far from comfortable. Anyone could feel the invasion and the one lit bulb on top of the desk used by so many people.

"But not me. I'm not even of age to drink yet, anyway. The bouncer wouldn't let me in. You have the wrong girl. My name's not Teresa Merritt, it's Kali Belle."

"I'm not an idiot. Let's see some ID." The woman pulled out her wallet from her trench coat and hands it to Jim. This was such a waste of time if this woman was telling the truth.

Jim read it carefully but was completely baffled. Kali Belle. "This is a fake," he said. "You are Teresa Merritt.

"No, Sir. I'm 19, I wouldn't be allowed in the club. Besides I'm sure everyone in this world has a twin living on the other side of where they're at, so clearly mine would be roaming somewhere here in Gotham."

"It's not her," the bartender stood on the one way interrogation mirror. His arms were crossed, his head was shaking ever so lightly, disappointed but surprised that the girl shared the exact same face. "I don't know how it can't be her, though."

"That's what I was saying," Harvey said next to him. "It doesn't add up. The facial description, the—"

"Age and hair colour," the bartender finishes. Jim walked out of the questioning as soon as he was done and he heads to the other side.

"Anything?" Harvey asks.

Jim shook his head. "The ID isn't a fake. At least it doesn't look like a fake."

Defeated, Harvey heads toward the door.

"And where are you going?" Jim said.

"Lunch is calling," and the door shuts.

Jim felt stuck as well. He was about to follow Harvey to grab a sandwich when the bartender spoke up. "I forgot to mention, Teresa Merritt is British. That girl we're looking at right there did not sound at all British."

"I'm convinced, but I wish it was her because this case is reaching dead ends."

"Keep her noted," the bartender replied quickly.

"I'm sorry?"

The bartender stared ahead through the one way mirror, staring so cautiously at Kali Belle. "I mean, she's still a suspect, might as well."

Jim blinked. "Noted."

Once Kali Belle was released from the precinct, she was still yet to deliver her information to the captain. As before, Jim looked at her like she had six heads.

"What?" she said, bold enough to be annoyed in her tone of voice towards someone superior.

"I don't get it. How are you not Teresa Merritt?"

"If I ever see a woman with the same face as me, I'll let you know ASAP. It's not like I wouldn't say anything, 'cause obviously you and the GCPD would still be on my ass for it just because I look like her. You guys don't even have a photo of her but will use mine?"

Jim doesn't say anything but averted his eyes towards the exit of the building where she was finally let go. Kali Belle disappeared from eyesight.

"I KNOW IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE NOW, but it will later on," Kate carelessly tosses the paintbrush into the jar, sending some excess black paint from the bristles flying away.

"What?" Jerome lifts himself halfway from the bean bag. "You just wasted my time, then."

Kate hops off the stool and checks the clock. "Recess is over." And without even waiting or glancing back for him to catch up, Kate walks out of the playroom, Jerome having no idea where she was going or what she was planning on doing at this time.

But as the kind of annoying person he was to her, he followed her down the old hallways of the asylum.

"But what happens to Kali Belle? Does Kali have a twin? Does she end up killing someone? Is that bartender the killer?"

"I'll tell you to rest of the story another time," Kate waves her hand trying to shoo him away.

"Aw, come on!" Jerome walks a bit faster as soon as Kate did.

"So you are interested in the story, huh?" Kate smirks a bit to herself, taking a right turn.

"Got me hooked up like a fish out of water," Jerome was now behind her by a footstep. "You said this story would help me open up my mind. That means answers. I always get answers, why do you think math exists? It's everywhere you go."

Kate chuckles under her breath. "Soon you'll be able to do the math. I have my ways. But you'll probably be uninterested."

"What makes you say that?" Jerome rests his hands behind his back while walking. What did she even mean by that?

Kate scrunches up her nose. "Who likes math?"

Jerome made a face. "I know a person." He averted his gaze to Kate who just kept walking. "Oh come on! You're being annoying."

"No, you're being annoying." Kate rolls her eyes. "You weren't so interested before and even said I wasted your time so I'm not gonna tell much of it now."

"But there's cliffhangers," Jerome scowls. The couple stops at the gateway leading to the cafeteria as soon as the once echoed laughter and childish, maniacal noises from almost every inmate locked inside grew louder. Jerome leaned against the fence while Kate stood before him, not giving in. "Fine, be like that. But I can be very persuasive. It works on everyone," he says menacingly.

That sent no shivers up Kate's spine as nothing of Jerome's scare tactics seemed to get a response from her anyway, if even at all. Instead, she stood on her toes and kisses him. He does it back, pulling her close to the filth of their uniforms.

"Not everyone," Kate sneered in her whisper. He lets go of her when she heads back to her table, pulling out the book 1984 she kept with her and read the bookmarked pages of Winston and Big Brother.

[imjustthemechanic]

Glockenspiel

Part 1/? - Transmission Part 2/? - The Sandhill Hotel Part 3/? - Piccadilly Part 4/? - The Future Part 5/? - Too Late Part 6/? - The Mystery of the Missing Time Machine

Peggy was of the opinion that they shouldn’t discuss conspiracies and time machines in a public place if they could possibly help it, weather gods on the subway notwithstanding.  Toulouse cheerfully bought them each a cup of coffee and a pastry, and they returned to the Lambeth Wilton hotel.

“We need another time machine,” Peggy said, once they’d settled down around the suite’s dining table.  “HYDRA has one, but there’s also the one we came here by, the one in the bunker in the Sierras.  Even if we didn’t make it back they wouldn’t have gotten rid of it, because the SSR never gets rid of anything.  The fact that we did demonstrably make it back means we will probably keep it on purpose.  It must still exist, or at the very least, there must be a record of it.”

Howard was nodding.  “Much faster than having to invent one myself, and more likely to be compatible with theirs.  After seventy years, though, where can we find the records?”

Peggy had some idea where to start looking, but before she could say so, Toulouse spoke first.  “They’re online!” she said.  “Black Widow put all of SHIELD’s stuff on Wikileaks.”

“What’s that?” Peggy asked.

“It’s a website full of stolen documents,” Toulouse explained.  She opened up her laptop computer and turned it on.  “After the Avengers exposed HYDRA’s plans to kill everybody, Black Widow uploaded all their records so we could see the shifty stuff they’d been up to.  We just have to look up time machine plans.”

Toulouse probably meant that to sound reassuring. It emphatically was not.  “Are you saying that if these plans exist, they’re now in a library where anyone can read them?” Peggy asked.  HYDRA were probably the worst people to give a time machine to, but they were far from the only ones who shouldn’t have it.

“It’s kind of like a library,” Toulouse explained, “but you don’t have to actually go there.  Anyone with a mobile can get access.”

Peggy thought back to the people she’d seen on the street outside the coffee shop.  At least half of them had been carrying a ‘mobile’, staring at it or fiddling with it while they walked, waited for buses, or shopped.  Any one of those people could, at will, read about everything the SSR had ever done?

“No wonder they came to this time,” said Peggy. Having something like that was practically inviting HYDRA in.

It didn’t alleviate her worries any when she saw how easy it was to search for things, either.  If Peggy had wanted to find specific documents in the SSR offices, she would have started out with a short prayer to the patron saint of filing (according to her former room-mate Colleen, this was either Saint Catherine or Saint Jerome, depending on your interpretation) that they’d been properly indexed before diving into the card catalogue.  If she’d managed to find something there, she would have rewarded herself with an extra dessert.  If not, it meant that whatever she was looking for had not been catalogued, and there was nothing for it but going through drawer upon drawer, box upon box of records and hoping that somewhere in there was what she wanted.  The process would have required days and several extra desserts, for fortitude.

On the Wikileaks website, Toulouse simply selected the phrase search keywords and typed in SSR time machine.  That brought up a couple of different documents, related to various projects interested in seeing the future or altering the past.  None seemed to have gotten past the planning stages, and the descriptions and diagrams did not match the device Peggy and Howard had arrived by.

“We can narrow it down by year,” Toulouse suggested.  “When did you say you were from?”

“1948,” Peggy told her.  Toulouse added it to her search parameters, but that brought up nothing at all.

“Maybe it took us a while to get around to writing it down,” Howard said.  “Try 49, 50, and 51.”

“And try matter transmitter,” Peggy added.  “That’s what I wanted to call the contraption before I realized we were in another time.”  Perhaps the SSR hadn’t wanted to describe it as a time machine, especially if Peggy had warned them that these records would someday be public.  “Or the location.  Sierra bunker.”

“See if any of them mention cows,” suggested Howard.

They spent the entire rest of the morning on the website, going through every possible variation of the search.  Peggy and Howard brainstormed code names they might have given the thing and tried those, and found exactly nothing of interest. Sometimes a result would look promising, but reading it was invariably a disappointment.  For a moment they had hope when they came across the Sierra bunker’s serial number – ACS21/2 – but the document only noted that it had been permanently sealed off in 1950, in favour of bomb shelters closer to the city.

Not only was it disappointing, but the longer they kept turning up nothing, the more worried Peggy became.  If there were no record of the machine, did that mean the SSR had never actually been able to study it for some reason?  Or worse, had somebody deliberately erased all traces? How would that be possible.  Peggy and Howard clearly had gotten back, not long after they’d left, and what they would have had to say when they did should have made the machine a top priority. Could HYDRA have sent someone else back to destroy the records?  Or had Peggy and Howard done it themselves?

“Maybe this thing just doesn’t bloody work,” said Peggy.  The more complicated a piece of technology was, the more ways it could fail – and this computer, as simple as it looked on the outside, had to be very complicated indeed.

“Or maybe they just never transferred the files,” Toulouse offered.  “By the time they got around to putting everything on computer they would have had decades of crap to go through.  Maybe they just never got to it all.”

Peggy thought of all the information that had accumulated in the SSR’s Los Angeles office in the mere year since its establishment, and shuddered imagine what seventy times as much might look like.  “You’d think…” she mused.  “When we get back, we’ll obviously know all this is going to happen, and you’d think we’d want to leave some kind of clue for ourselves. Something…” she paused, her coffee cup halfway to her mouth.  Of course! And of course they’d destroyed the records!  “Something nobody will understand but us, so that HYDRA can’t use it!”

“Great,” huffed Howard.  “So it’ll be easy to leave, because by then we’ll already know what it is, but right now when we’re looking for it, we have to figure it out.”

“Then we’ll thank ourselves for our ingenuity when the time comes,” Peggy said.  “Now… we know where we’ll arrive, but we can’t leave anything in the hotel because it won’t be built for another seventy years.  Not the Wilton, either, because it’s going to be torn down and rebuilt. What about…”

“The bunker!” Howard exclaimed, at the same moment it occurred to Peggy.

“Of course!” she said.  It would be closed by 1950, but Peggy would be back working for the SSR by then  She might even have been involved in decommissioning it.  “Toulouse, find the bunker again – ACS21/2.  Anything more you can find about it.”

Her heart was beating fast as Toulouse ran the search.  Surely this would be it.

The website called google gave them several results, including lists of defunct cold war bunkers, and a small article from the early 2000s about people being injured while trying to explore such locations.  This included a colour photograph of the very bunker in question, showing the entrance – now very much overgrown and with the padlock rusted in place – with a new fence and danger sign to keep people out.  Peggy felt a swell of hope in her chest.

“That’s got to be it,” she said.

“How do we get back to California?” Howard wanted to know.  “Maybe I somehow set some money aside for myself…”

“I’ll take you,” Toulouse said.  She typed the words flights from Heathrow to LAX, and a whole new set of information appeared, which she began to sift through.

Peggy swallowed.  “Toulouse, you don’t have to do that…”

“She can if she wants,” Howard interrupted.

“I know,” said Peggy, “but she doesn’t have to.”  She was still slightly worried that Toulouse’s family was involved in this whole mess, although Toulouse herself had made no effort so far to turn them in.  “Toulouse, you’ve spent a lot of time and money on us already.”

“I don’t mind,” Toulouse assured her.

“But you really don’t need to.”  Peggy pulled her chair a little closer to look Toulouse in the eye.  “Please answer me honestly, Toulouse.  Why do you want to help us?”

Toulouse looked back at her in surprise.  “I want to help,” she said.  “I’ve never been able to do something like this before!  When Thor busted up Greenwich we gave money to restore the buildings, and we sent aid to Sokovia and Johannesburg, but this is different.  It’s not exactly superhero stuff, but I want to be a part of it.”

“Isn’t your father going to be upset that you’re spending his money this way?” Peggy asked next.  She wanted all her bases covered.

Toulouse looked down at her keyboard for a moment and bit her lip, leaving a bit of silver lipstick on her teeth.  “Daddy doesn’t actually care what I do.  I can get a Master’s degree or I can get arrested for shoplifting.  He doesn’t give a shit as long as I’m not bothering him.”

“Where else are we gonna get the money, Peg?” asked Howard.

He was probably right, but there was one thing Peggy absolutely needed Toulouse to understand.  “This isn’t an adventure,” she said.  “It may be very dangerous.”

“Then tell me when to sit out, and I’ll sit out,” Toulouse insisted.  “Please?” She sounded like a  child, rather than an adult woman in an absurd outfit.

“All right,” Peggy relented.  “But when we do tell you stay out, you must stay out.  You’re not along for a safari.  We don’t know who else knows about any of this or how dangerous it may be.  We don’t want you hurt, and whatever your father might think of your behaviour, I know he doesn’t either.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” said Toulouse.  Her voice was meek, but her smile was that of a child on Christmas morning.  She selected the word purchase on her computer screen, and then stood up.

“We fly out of Heathrow at six,” she said, “with a stopover in Toronto, and arrive at LAX at 2:30 AM.  I’ll get us a room at the Sandhill Playa Del Rey, because that’s been there for ten years and nobody’s got any excuse for sneaking into the basement.”

“Very reassuring,” said Peggy dryly.

“Also,” Toulouse added, a finger in the air.  “Now that you two are obviously going to be here a while, we need to talk about the blending in thing.”

Peggy glanced down at her own clothes, then looked askance once again at what Toulouse was wearing.  “Not that it wouldn’t be nice to have something clean,” she said, “but nobody’s been staring at us so far.”  Most of the clothing people wore in this century seemed to be far more drab than Toulouse’s, and Peggy and Howard weren’t that out of place.

“You just haven’t noticed,” said Toulouse firmly. “I’m taking you both to Barnardo’s.”

Peggy was afraid that Barnardo’s would turn out to be a fancy shop selling only sequinned jackets and high boots.  To her relief, it was actually a second-hand store, which was actually a very clever idea – anything they found there would be slightly out of style, slightly worn, and most likely working-class.  All things that would help them vanish in the crowds.

Choosing something nevertheless turned out to be a bit of a project.  Much of what was on offer were things Peggy wouldn’t have been caught dead in, whether because they were too tight, sleeveless, or had necklines that reached nearly to her nipples.  She finally ended up in a dark blue top with a beaded trim and no sleeves, offsetting the immodesty of that with a black jacket made of fake leather, which was only waist-length but at least covered her shoulders.  The blue shirt dangled out the bottom of it to hang over a pair of white denim trousers, but Toulouse refused to let her tuck it in.

At least there was a pair of high heels that fit, even if they were a dreadful budgerigar green that didn’t match the blue shirt.  It didn’t matter to Peggy what century she was in – she wanted to be able to look the men in the eye.

Howard had an easier time of things.  He found a tweed blazer with maroon accents that would have fit right in with his usual wardrobe, and paired it with a set of torn-up trousers (Toulouse said the proper term was distressed) and a shirt that didn’t match, featuring a stylized drawing of that Iron Man character they’d briefly seen on the news. Peggy suspected he’d chosen it for the line of text underneath the image, which read genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.

“What do you think?” he asked Peggy, with a grin on his face.

“Are you sure that shirt doesn’t actually belong to your future self?” she asked him.

“According to Toulouse I’ve been dead for over twenty years,” Howard replied, “and the tag says copyright 2013, so yes, very sure.”

Toulouse herself looked them over as if they were horses at a show, and finally gave a satisfied nod.  “You two look perfect,” she declared.

“We look ridiculous,” Peggy corrected her.

“Nobody will look at you twice,” Toulouse promised, and Peggy supposed she was probably right.  Everybody would be too blinded by Toulouse’s own sequinned jacket.

[lachlantrash]

"I can't sleep, can I stay here?"

You can't believe you're about to do this. You've never been the kind of girl to feel like she needs a man, always being pretty independent. But tonight, feeling pretty buzzed and awake from the little party earlier at Mitch and Jerome's, where you're staying, you can't find it in you to sleep and want nothing more than to spend time with the man you began dating, Lachlan Power. Knowing he's down the hall, just a few steps away, is enough to pull you out of your bed and causes you to trot down the hall without a second thought. The door's still open a crack, a soft light from what appears to be a laptop lighting the room as you gently knock on the door.

"Lachlan? It's (Y/N)..." You trail off, feeling silly now that you're actually outside of his room. What do you expect him to do? Standing there a second longer and getting no response, you think hopefully he didn't hear you as you go to walk back down the hall.

"Hey." You hear, breaking you out of your thoughts as you look at the door opening in front of you, revealing Lachlan wearing nothing but a pair of Nike sweatpants. "What's up?" Lachlan asks, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he looks at you. You're wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of your own Nike sweatpants, your hair pulled into a messy bun and Lachlan can't help but to imagine coming home to this version of you nightly.

"Sorry, you must've been trying to sleep, it's late." You laugh nervously, feeling even more stupid than before.

"No, god no! What's up, I'm feeling pretty awake." Lachlan says, blushing afterwards because it sounds so needy once he's said it, but he just wants you to stay and talk longer.

"I couldn't sleep, and I just... I wanted to see... I don't know, I just wanted to spend time with you really." You laugh, admitting the real reason you came to him this late at night.

"Do you uh, want to come back in my room? God, that sounds like I'm just trying to fuck you. I meant if you want to like, spend the night here you can. That doesn't sound any better, just ask." He groans, making you let out another laugh at how adorable he is.

"I can't sleep, can I stay here?" You ask, making eye contact with Lachlan, a smile on both of your faces from being in the presence of one another.

"You're so much better at wording things than me. Yeah, of course you can stay here." He says, moving out of the way so you can walk into the room. "I uh, I was just um... Checking out that show you were talking about with Jerome earlier... Supernatural, I was about to start it on Netflix." He says awkwardly, shutting the door behind you and walking over to the bed.

"Really? You think it's something you'll like?" You ask, not wanting to invite yourself into his bed so you're standing by the door still.

"You can come join me in the bed, it's pretty cold with the A.C on in here." He laughs, pulling the covers back and patting the spot next to him for you. Once you climb into the spot, he pulls the blanket up to shelter you from the air conditioning. "I actually was just going to watch it so you and I would have more things to talk about, I haven't even started it yet I was just getting background knowledge from wiki." He laughs, admitting this to you.

"Lachy, I want to talk to you regardless on whether or not you know Supernatural trivia. Though I'm offended you turned to wiki, especially if you're considering watching the show. Don't spoil it for yourself, Supernatural is a commitment you either fully devote yourself to or don't at all." You say, scolding him for his plan of action.

"I just... You get so worked up over things you care about, like this tv show and I just, I feel my heart just somersaulting because oh my god when you care about something you really fucking care, and I can't help but to want you to care about me like that." He admits, making you blush this time around.

"I think that's definitely a possibility with the way we are heading right now." You hum out, reaching for his hand in the mass of blankets, squeezing it before continuing, "Honestly, it sounds pathetic but before this week I was so excited to meet you because it seemed like we both liked each other, and then we met and we really just click so fucking well and then we went on our first date and now, now I'm just excited to see what comes of this." You say, looking at Lachlan with the light from his laptop lighting up his face.

"Can I kiss you, and maybe be able to call you my girlfriend but like feel free to say no to either of those." Lachlan says really fast, making you take a second to comprehend before you laugh, not answering as you lean forward to connect your lips to his. "Alright that answers the first question, but uh, what about the other?" He asks, backing out of the kiss.

"Of course I'll happily be your girlfriend Lachlan, but only if you can handle the title of being my boyfriend." You say, a glint in your eyes as he smiles at you, connecting your lips once again.

"I think that's a role I might be able to give a try." He says pulling away. "I was really nervous to do that, before Mitch even set us up on that date two nights ago at McDonalds, I knew this was going to be the time I ask you out and I was really scared of your answer." Lachlan says, laying back in the bed with his laptop now placed on the floor. He has his arm out in a silent offer for you to lay on it, which you slowly take him up on because you're worried you're misinterpreting for a second until you see him looking at you expectantly.

"Why were you scared of my answer?" You ask, looking up at him.

"I don't know, just nervous you'd say no I guess." He chuckles, making your heart start beating faster. Did he really think you didn't want him in the same way he wanted you?

"Why would I ever say no to a hot stud of an Australian like yourself?" You ask, trying to understand his thinking.

"I just didn't know what was going on between you and Preston, that's all... I know he's been trying to pursue you too." Lachlan says.

"There's nothing really going on between Preston and I, there hasn't been anything at least from my end. I don't really do the whole talking to multiple guys thing, like I'd be fine having a friendship with him but I knew I was more interested in you than him right from the start. He's nice and all, he really is, but something just clicked with you that didn't with him." You say, trying to ease any nerves Lachlan had on Preston. Both Preston and Lachlan began talking to you at the same time and as both are nice, attractive men you didn't really know what to do at first. That was until Preston began coming on a bit too strong, making your conversations with Lachlan seem more meaningful than a bunch of 'your insta pic looks hot' texts you were receiving from Preston.

"That's good to hear. If it means anything, I haven't been talking to any other girls besides you." Lachlan tells you.

"Happy to hear it." You smile at him in the dark, realizing he can't see it so you place a kiss to his neck.

"Are you getting tired?" He asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"A bit." You murmur, eyelids feeling heavy.

"Then goodnight, (Y/N)." Lachlan says, hesitating before placing a kiss on your forehead.

~~~~In the morning.~~~~

"Do we wake them up?" A whisper says, sounding like it's close but not in your line of sight when you open your eyes.

"No, we don't wake them up! Look at them, they're cuddled together in bed. Who are we to ruin their moment? He flies back soon, let them enjoy each other. I'm happy I was right about them." Another voice sounds, this one being the obvious voice of your best friend Mitch.

"They're actually adorable..." The first whisper sighs, sounding like Jerome as you hear it again.

"Guys, I think she's still asleep. Could you gush about my girlfriend and I somewhere else?" Lachlan sighs out quietly, trying not to disturb you.

"Your girlfriend!?" Both Jerome and Mitch say in unison, not trying to conceal their voices. You laugh as you sit up, wanting to see the jaw-dropped reactions of your friends.

"What's so surprising about that?" You laugh, taking in the way Mitch and Jerome are looking at you two.

"I just didn't think Lachlan would actually ask this week, I thought he'd pussy out and we'd be stuck waiting for to official statement on you two until the next time he came out here." Jerome says, taking a step into the room. "Wait... Lachlan's shirtless? You two didn't, y'know..." Jerome adds, trailing off making you laugh.

"What? God, no we didn't have sex! I sleep shirtless, okay? Goddamn, I just got the nerve to ask her out last night." Lachlan says, immediately shutting down the idea.

"I'm fully clothed, no worries." You add, untangling yourself from Lachlan to get out of the bed. "Last night was probably the best nights sleep I've gotten in awhile, though." You say, ignoring Mitch and Jerome as you look at Lachlan, who smiles back at you.

"I agree, definitely best nights sleep." He hums in agreement, sitting up in the bed. "Alright, could you two bozos leave please?" He asks, referring to Jerome and Mitch that are still standing near the door.

"Fine, we'll give you two lovebirds some privacy... Just don't fuck around here." Mitch laughs, walking out the door with Jerome behind him.

"Well uh, want to spend tonight in my room? The door locks." You say, making Lachlan laugh.

[cecke8]

Your Ginger Housemate - Part 7 (2/2)

| Previous | First | Next |

Here’s Part 2! I didn’t want to make one part uber long, so I figured making two parts would be better. Show or tell me what you guys think! And tell me what you’d think guys would like for the next Part. Enjoy!

“I can’t watch this anymore Jerome!” After you and Jerome had set up the couch with pillows and blankets, made three bowls of popcorn and had finally chosen the first movie, you sat on the far end of the sofa. Jerome had practically been jumping in his seat.

“Wow. Calm down jackhammer. It’s just heating up.” 

“Stupid piece of junk. You should get a new one y/n.”

“Can’t afford it. You know that.”

“I could always get one for you sweet cheeks.” he raised his eyebrow mischievously. Somehow, you didn’t think that him attaining a T.V. would be safe. Or legal.

“No.” He watched the television slowly beginning to show an image, then disappear, starting the process once again. Jerome groaned and pressed a pillow to his face, a frustrated “Ugh. Seriously?” muffled by the pillow. It reminded you of an impatient little kid. ‘Strange how he, of all people, seems to act like one…’ You still found it amusing how he hadn’t watched a ‘proper’ movie before. He explained how they, he and his mum, didn’t have a television, only radio.  

“So, the only time I’ve watched a full movie before was when the director decided to promote performance at a drive-in cinema. But it was some sort of romance crap. Ugh.” He had shivered at the thought which did confuse you slightly. As you sat at one end of the couch, Jerome at the other, nerves started making your hands shake. It was ‘The Shining’, one of the lower rated movies. You had never seen it, but Jerome seemed to have a particular interest in it.  

Now nearing the end of the movie, you were completely freaked out and had given up the ‘brave face’ act. When you jumped into the air the first time, Jerome shuffled over to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.  

“It’s all good doll. I gotcha. Don’t worry, I’d murder him in half the time.” 

“Th-thanks Jerome. It was almost entirely reassuring.” He had only laughed. 

Now you were snuggled up to him, your face peeking out from behind a pillow while he hugged you. It would’ve been nice… if not for the 'Here’s Johnny!’ that came from the television. It terrified you out of your wits.

“Ahhh! Oh God.” Your face was now nestled in Jerome’s shirt. You looked up at his face, he was shaking his head at you.

“Well excuse me for not being able to take it.” He had been smiling through the whole movie. Even laughing slightly. His breathing would become faster, but not in fear. Excitement. Well… not the start. He wanted to fast forward the movie and skip, “the boring bits.” 

“Y/n, just a quick question,” he paused the movie just as Johnny had raised his axe above his head, “How do you live with me, and can’t watch this?”

“You know what Jerome… Just finish your bloody movie,” laughing as he tried to cheer you up. Still, you laid there, nestled under his arm against his chest. The past three days had made you closer than ever. Maybe things were changing for the best. ‘Ugh, what would my parents think? My first partner, that I really like, being a mass murderer and madman to boot. Hi mum, dad. I’d like you to meet someone. He’s a bit different, but must don’t get freaked out.’ Things couldn’t last that long though… would they? And how would this end? Jerome thrown into Arkham? Dead? You locked in prison? Arkham? Or dead? 

The movie had finally finished, for which you were grateful. You weren’t going to sleep well tonight, that was for sure. The two of you just sat there, snuggled against each other. The rain and the wind causing the house to become colder than usual. You didn’t know what to do. He seemed in a great mood. Better than normal. Maybe you’d be able to ask him some questions…

“Jerome?” 

“What’s up doll-face? Wanna watch it again? Haha!”

“Yeah Nah. I’m good. I was actually wondering if I’d… If I’d be able to ask you some questions?” He looked at you quizzically. Not knowing what was coming next,

“What sorta questions?” 

“Stuff,” you shrugged, “about when you were younger. Please don’t get mad, I’m just interested. You always get me to do the answering, and I don’t want to make you upset but…”

“Y/n.”

“I’m just curious, and I know curiosity killed the cat but I just…”

“You can.”

“I’d really like to… Wait. What?

“You can ask me the questions. I’ll try not to get mad… Much.” He winked, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Wow, go any redder, and you’ll match my hair.”

“Shut up.” Laughing, you thought of the questions you had always wanted to ask him. There so many! But starting small sounded like a good idea.

“Why do you have so many shoes. You even now all the boxes for them too. Why?”

He laughed nervously. Yes nervously. You couldn’t believe it!

“I’ll only answer if you don’t interrupt. Okay?” You nodded quickly, knowing one peep would cause him to stop, tease you, and walk off. As he began to talk, his face became more menacing, somehow this simple question irritated him. When he started talking, you understood why,

“Well, you see. Being younger, we didn’t have a lot of money… Obviously. Mum wasted it on booze and what not. Such stuff like new clothes was something exciting. But shoes. Ugh, that was the novelty. I’d literally have to stash cash away for myself when she was paid… and for food. Basic necessities. She was all over taking care of herself. But that cow didn’t give rat’s ass about me.”

Sensing he had finished his rant, you thought it’d be safe to keep the questions going, “What… exactly… was she like?”

“A whore. An abusing, drunken whore of a mother… who couldn’t cook for the life of her.” A different look was in his eyes. A crazed look. You found it terrifying. Still, you persisted. He was so open.

“Was she always like that,” He tilted his head, “Always… abusive a-and drunk?”

He sighed, “No. Not when I was young anyway. The night’s Mom had a guy over was when she was really drunk, she’d hit me. Then in the morning, she’d whine about how sorry she was, and each time I’d believe her. She’d say she’s “gonna make it all better.” Ha! Big fat joke. She did it less as I got older.”

“When did she start? If you don’t mind me asking!” You were worried you were beginning to push the limits. Step over the line. However, he didn’t seem to mind too much. If anything, it seemed to give him relief.

“Once I could start doing things myself. So around five.” You stared at him agape, “Per-lease. Don’t start feeling all sorry for me. Besides, it only got nasty when was, uh, around nine… I think.”

“Like what?”

“Sometimes she’d get the guys to help. The time’s she really didn’t ‘apologise’ was when she was really hungover. I was nine when the first guy helped. Near Kansas. Haha. I like to refer to it as the three rounds of boozing, boning and beating up Jerome.”

“Oh, Jerome.” You snuggled towards him, hugging him. Jerome stiffened at the gesture at, his arms spread wide. Slowly but surely, he began to relax, embracing you in return. You stayed like that for awhile, happy to do this for as long as you could. 

The telephone rang, causing you to jump at whip out of the embrace. You walked into the kitchen and answered.

- Jerome’s Point of View - 

She left reluctantly by the looks of it. I could hear mumbles when she responded but couldn’t be bothered to get up. Stuff that. 

It felt… pleasant. To talk. Which surprises me. I’ve spoken more to y/n about when I was a kid than to anyone else. It felt weird but good. A good weird… Is that even a thing? This is all so new to me.

She came back into the living room, worry spread across her face. My defensive instincts kicked in, I was getting ready to split ASAP. 

“Bad news,” she said. I looked at her urging for her to continue. 

“What?”

“M-my… My parents are coming over.” I relaxed instantly and laughed. 

“They’re coming tomorrow.”

I stopped. Not sure how to explain the look, but it was like I was asking y/n if she was serious. I could only think of a couple words.

“Well… shit.”

[bn-writes]

8. “This is a terrible idea.” Jerome x Reader

A/n: This is just an idea that I had for a pre-death Jerome imagine when I saw the list of writing prompts. Let me know if you guy like it! (I’m new to this so go easy on me please!) 

Warnings: Mentions of a mugging type of interaction. Mentions of family loss and mentions of abuse. Please, if this will trigger you in any way, do not read. And please request something so that I can write something that you can read in the future! 

I proofread this but if there are any mistakes I’m sorry!

Word count: 1551

“Y/N! Can you come down here please?” My sister yelled to me up the stairs. I sigh and mark my place in the book that I was reading. “Coming!” I reply as I set my book down on my nightstand and make my way downstairs. When I reach the bottom of the stairs I see my sister putting on her coat. “Y/N they called me back into work for an interrogation. They said that it shouldn’t take more than an hour or so but I’m going to leave you some money to order some dinner for tonight.” She says. “If you want to have a friend over that’s fine with me but no boys.” She continues with a wink earning a giggle from me. “And no leaving.” She finishes. “Alright… Ugh why do you have to work at the GCPD? You’re always working.” She sighs and look down as she walks over to me. “I know, Y/N. But how about this, If you don’t have any friends over when I get home we can have movie night like we used to. How does that sound?” I look up at her with a teary-eyed smile. “That sounds great. Do you have any requests for dinner?” I ask. “Nope. Just get whatever you want! I really have to go now sweetie but I’ll see you when I get home. Why don’t you pick out a movie while I’m gone? Okay? I love you!” She says speedily as she kisses my cheek and heads for the door. “Okay I love you too!” I reply. She shuts the door and I hear the locks click and the sound of fast footsteps going down the driveway.

I love my sister. I really do. I will always be grateful for how much she’s done for me. She practically raised me when mom and dad passed away. But I’m 17 and I can’t help but feel like she still thinks of me as a child. I start thinking about what she said a few minutes ago… “And no leaving.” Why can’t I leave? I’m 17! I mean I understand that Gotham has been going a little downhill lately but I think that I know what I’m doing. I start to think some more. What’s the harm in going to pick up the pizza for dinner instead of having it be delivered? The pizza place is right down the block. It will be faster if I actually go there. And if I leave now I can make it back before it gets dark! I head upstairs and throw on my jacket. I run back downstairs and throw on my shoes. After I grab the money off of the counter and my keys out of the dish I head out the door.

The line for the pizza place was longer than I had anticipated. I forgot that it was Friday night. After I picked up my pizza I started to head out of the small restaurant. I noticed it had gotten a lot darker since I left my house. It had also started to rain. Great. I put on my hood and started to walk back home the same way that I came but I heard some pained grunts from the alley across the street from the path I was walking down that took my attention away from walking home. I glance in the direction of the strange noises and my walking pace slows. I looked down the path and I could see my house. “It’s within running distance if something goes wrong… But what if I don’t make it in time? No! Y/N you can’t just leave knowing there could be someone hurt.” I think to myself. I start to walk toward the alley. “This is a terrible idea.” I speak to myself quietly. As I get closer to the noises I can see the hair before I see the face. I remembered him from somewhere.

Flashback:

I wandered around the different circus attractions and carnival games. I couldn’t seem to find my parents anywhere but I wasn’t worried. We lived in Kansas so everyone kind of knew each other. I also knew they wouldn’t leave without me since I was only 9. I keep walking and I hear a boy crying. I walk towards the sound and I find a boy who looks around my age sitting with his knees to his chest. He had fiery red hair and tears streaming down his face. When I finally reach him I sit down next to him. “Hello!” I say to him. “Hello… Who are you?” He replies. “My name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. What’s yours?” I ask him. “My name is Jerome. Jerome Valeska.” He says as he wipes some tears from under his eyes. “Why are you crying, Jerome?” I ask him. “It’s my birthday. And my mom and the snake guy are beating me…” He says as he puts his face back in his hands. “I’m so sorry Jerome!” I say as I throw my arms around him in a hug. He seems surprised at first but hugged me back in no time. “I know what will cheer you up! Follow me!” I said as I pulled him up and away from the circus. I brought him to a hill not too far from the show that overlooked the lake. We stayed there and talked for hours that night. It was so much fun. Eventually we had to get back to reality and Jerome went back to his mother and I went back to my family.

Flashback over. 

When I realize who it is I almost don’t believe it. I haven’t thought about Jerome in years. I never expected to see him again when I moved away from Kansas. Who knew we would both end up in Gotham? I drop the pizza and rush to his side immediately. When I got there it was clear that Jerome had been jumped. He was laying on the ground. His empty wallet was sitting almost completely empty and opened on the other side of the alley. His face was badly bruised and his nose was bleeding.  “Oh my god Jerome! Are you okay?” I ask sitting him upright leaving my hand on his back to keep him steady. His eyes open half way and he groans out, “How do you know my name?” I look at him and study his wounds. They need to be cleaned out now. “We’ll get to that later but right now we need to get you out of this rain. Do you think you can stand?” He nods and groans out as I help him to his feet. I place his arm over my shoulder and I place my arm around his waist to keep him steady. We make the short walk to my house and I notice my sister still isn’t home. I unlock my door and help him inside. I sit him down on my couch and grab him some pillows. “I’ll be right back. You stay here.” I command as I run up the stairs. I open the door to my parent’s old bedroom and grab the first aid kit from the closet. Luckily mom was a nurse and taught me everything she knew. I close the door and run back down to the living room where Jerome was seated. I grab a chair and sit across from him. “Okay Jerome this is probably going to sting a little bit. But it will only hurt for a second okay?” I assure him as I ready the cotton square with the alcohol. He nods and winces as I touch his wounds with the wet cotton.

After I finish cleaning his wounds I grab him a bag of frozen peas from the fridge and prop his head up. I get up to put the chair back but he grabs my arm and stops me. “Thank you… I never got your name. You also never told me how you know mine.” He says looking at me. I sit back down and smile at him. “You’re welcome. And I don’t know if you’ll remember me but. My name is Y/N. I spent one of your birthdays with you at Haly’s Circus in Kansas.” Before I even finished I knew he remembered. His eyes widened and a huge grin appeared on his face. “Y/N… Of course I remember you.” I smiled at him and he brought a hand up to touch my face. “I never thanked you for being so nice to me that day. That was probably the best birthday I’ve ever had.” I smiled at him. “It was no problem. I had a lot of fun that day.” Jerome sat up and walked over to the freezer and put the peas back inside. He at back down on the couch and patted the spot next to him. I sat next to him and he pulled me into a hug “I missed you so much.” He said to me. I didn’t know that I missed Jerome until I saw him. But when I did I realized that I missed him quite a bit. “I missed you too.” I’m glad I didn’t listen to my sister. I wouldn’t have found him if I hadn’t left the house.

A/n: Okay guys I hope you liked it! If you want me to do a part two or something just let me know! And again sorry if it isn’t that great. This is my first imagine.

[jokers-sweethearts]

Jokers Daughter Imagine: The Next Step

Request: (anon) Could you do one where the cp is dating jermone and he gets her pregnant and they birth happy about it but jermone freaks out at first a little.

//////

The music of the club was pulsating through you as you made your way to the bar. You needed a place to sit and just collect yourself. The bartender saw the bosses daughter and immediately started making his way over to you. As you waited you looked back at the dance floor filled, Harley dancing in her glass chamber and not too far over your father dealing wit a ‘client’ in the VIP booth. You sighed to yourself and a smile stretched over your face. Placing your hand on your stomach you thought about how even as they got older they never changed and remained the crazy clown couple you loved and gotham feared. The night was perfect… with just one thing missing with one thing left to do.

“What can I get ya darlin?” the bartender asked looking at you as he always did, fear and willing to please.

You felt a hand on your back as you opened your mouth to answer stopping you.

“She’ll have her usual martini, extra dirty” Jerome said as he took a seat next to you.

Your smile grew when you saw his loose red hair fall in front of his eyes. You pushed it behind his ear as you jumped up to give him a passionate kiss. The bartender stood frozen for a second, still not used to the sight of Jerome after all these years. You took advantage and turned back to the bar

“Actually I’ll have a water” he shook his head and obeyed your order.

“Water?” Jerome said in a condescending tone “C’mon let’s have fun tonight baby” he pressed his lips aggressively against yours. You melted into the kiss head swirling almost forgetting that you were on a mission this night.

“We have fun every night… or don’t you remember?” you teased him biting his lip to avoid getting lost in another kiss.

“Oh I never forget anything you do to me” Jerome laughed maniacally which made you fall even more in love with him. 

The moment was interrupted by the sound of the glass hitting the bar and you turned around relieved, taking a big gulp of your water. Jerome noticed the uneasiness in your movements and placed his hands on your hips running them up and down.

“Why don’t we call it an early night huh?” Jerome leaned in and played with your neck whispering in your ear.

You placed the empty glass down on the table feeling better and closed your eyes for a moment before turning back to him.

“That sounds perfect but…. It’s not exactly why you’re thinking” you noticed the confused look on Jerome’s face but grabbed his hand and started leading him through the crowd so he wouldn’t question anything.

Joker saw his daughter rapidly moving through the crowd and cleaned the blood off his razor getting up to follow her.

Jerome felt the firm grip on his shoulder and got ready to attack whoever was behind him. He made a fist and swung around to his the guy but it was caught in a pale palm. The Joker laughed loudly watching Jerome’s face change from pride to fear. You rolled your eyes as you turned around and saw this. 

“Dad stop we don’t” have time for this you said out of patience wanting to tell Jerome what was going on.

Joker didn’t let Jeromes fist out of his hand as he turned to face his daughter. He liked asserting his dominance over the kid when he got a chance and squeezed his hand. Jerome stood his ground and started to giggle like the lunatic he was, not wanting to give in.

“Where are you going in such a hurry princess? I barely got any time with you” the joker said with a bit of a pained expression on his face making you feel bad. Sometimes it pissed you off how mean your father was to Jerome still after all this time together, but it was sweet too. You’re dad was just jealous and you couldn’t help but smile, but tonight was too important.

“I’m sorry daddy” you let go of Jerome’s hand and went over to your father. When you wrapped your arms around him for a hug he released his grip on the red headed clown. “I’ll make it up to you I promise okay?”

Joker didn’t release his daughter when he felt her try and pull away. he wanted the hug to last as long as possible and he wanted Jerome to see it. Wanted him to see that he was still the main man in her life. Harley saw all this occurring and made her way over, knowing her husband was giving the boy trouble.

“Puddin!” she called out as she approached breaking the tension. “Let them go huh?”

You slipped out of your fathers grasp as your mother distracted him.

“If they go now then we get alone time right?” she kissed the nape of his neck. Joker growled while thinking.

“All right all right go” he waved his hand at you and Jerome. It was perfect timing because you could tell your lover was seething wanted to fight the Joker.

“thank you daddy!” you yelled as you grabbed Jeromes hand again and made a run for it to your car outside.

Harley could feel the knots in Jokers back as she rested her head, she started running her fingers up and down his spine. 

“You gotta be nicer to that kid, he’s not goin anywhere ya know puddin”.

“We don’t know that” joker said turning around planting a kiss on his queens lips. “I could still kill the little bastard and get my baby back”.

Harley pulled away from the kiss, lipstick smudged a bit just the way Joker liked it, she was smiling wide at him. “Oh yeah tough guy? What about when she has her own baby?” she tased.

“I’ll be fuckin damned” Joker snarled going in for another kiss.

You were quiet the whole way home, pushing Jerome’s hand away every time he tried to rub your leg or play with your hair. He was starting to get agitated gripping the steering wheel harder. You didn’t want to be this way but the closer you got to revealing what was going on made you more nervous. How do I tell him I’m carrying his baby? Does he want one? Are we ready? the questions swirled in your mind so fast you felt dizzy. You were beyond excited but how was he going to react?

When you guys got closer to the house you expected jerome to slow down but he went faster and faster until he bolted past the entrance to the driveway. 

“Jerome? What are you doing?” you asked surprised. You loved when he played games but tonight was not the night for it.

‘Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing babe?” he said without taking his eyes off the road. “The water at the bar? that was weird enough considering you usually drink like a  40 year old man!” 

“Hey!”

“And now you won’t let me touch you? Excuse you princess” he said in a condescending tone “but I am a modern day casanova!” 

“....Jerome...”

“What is going on?” he said and his tone was getting more and more serious. “What? You breaking up with me? Well I got news for you that’s never going to happen. I’ll never let you go ya here me?” 

“Of course now!” you matched his aggression.

“Then what?” he screamed as he raced around the corners going deeper into the city, you had no idea where he was headed. “You’re not pregnant or something are you?” 

His words hit you like a bat to the head. You fell back in your seat as your face got flushed and you went silent. Jerome noticed this and loosened his grip on the steering wheel. He fucked up and he knew it. It all made sense now.

“I’m pregnant Jerome” the words left your lips with no emotion. “Are you happy now?” 

Jerome began to felt something he never had before: weak, insecure, powerless. He had realized he had ruined what was supposed to be a beautiful moment between two people. The closest he was ever going to get to normal, not that he wanted normal but the look on your face was killing him. He wanted to make you feel better and laugh and he usually would. In this moment however it was like an out of body experience and he was starring at himself driving faster and faster. 

“I want this baby. I’m keeping it” yo finally got out defiantly.

Jerome still couldn’t speak, your words replayed in his head. How could he be a father? He liked being selfish and running around town with you wrecking havoc. He had killed his own mother and wanted to kill your father, how could he handle being a parent himself?

“I know this is a lot” you continued waiting for a reaction out of your lover. “If you don’t want to stay I understand, but I want this baby. I love you but I’ll understand” your own words stung as they left you. You didn’t really want to understand. You wanted it to be like your parents. They always managed well with a baby and loved it. You wanted Jerome to take this like your father did. In that moment your own happiness came into question and for a moment you wanted to be a little girl in your dads arms again instead of thinking about raising your own baby.

When Jerome heard you say those words he slammed on the breaks sending you forward slightly. He threw his arm across you to protect you from the sudden impact. His hand touched your stomach and both of you froze. Your words caught him off guard and he almost scoffed at them. ‘don’t want to stay’ he repeated to himself. 

“Are you serious?” he looked you dead in the eye for the first time since the club.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” you asked him stone faced. You opened up the car door and began walking, you needed air

Jerome’s hand lingered where you were just sitting, he had touched his baby for the first time. His adrenaline went wild and he jumped out of the car.

“(y/n) come back here!” he called out and you noticed something strange in his voice. but you kept walking

He picked up his pace until he caught up with you and grabbed your arm. You tried to rip it away but he held on tight and pulled you into him. He saw you had tearsrunning fown your face. When you saw the huge grin on his it only made you angrier

“Whya re you running away from me?” he said, his confusion insulted you.

“Why the fuck do you think? I was happy about this and happy to tell you, I don’t need you to rub it in that you don’t want the baby” you lashed out.

Jerome laughed and pulled you closer. His mood were harder to predict than your own. “Babe it’s not that. Not that at all”.

When Jerome felt your stomach he was overcome with numbness, but it was good. Like all the bad thoughts and unanswered questions disappeared and all that existed in that moment was him connecting to the life inside of you that was his.

“don’t fuck with me Jerome, I can’t take that anymore right now” you said harshly.

“I was just frustrated thinking you didn’t want me. I go crazy when I can’t touch you” his grip loosened on your arm and he began to caress you. “I don’t know why I acted like that but I never fuckin know why i do stuff. It’s part of my charm right?” he smiled and you couldn’t resist doing the same.

You both stood there looking into each others eyes. This was usual for the love you shared. Heated and in the moment passion followed by these somber, knowing looks. jerome took his hand off your arm and poked your stomch gently with his finger.

“That’s mine in there?” he asked needing more reassurance that this was reality and not one of his many dream lands.

You shook your head yes not able to speak yet, the night hadn’t gone as you planned but you’d do anything to keep Jerome with you.

“I just wanted us to be like my parents, share that love. I want our baby to grow up like I did”.

Jerome threw his head back and let our a roaring laugh, “Hell kid it beats how I grew up right?” you matched his laughter before leaned forward and resting your head on his chest listening to his heart beat.

Jerome took a moment to hold you and finally process what was happening. All his life he wanted to belong somewhere and fit in and make his own place. When he met you he knew your father wasn’t welcoming and would never accept him in his clown family. But now he was creating his own family. Something that was his, that he built a,, he owned, and he could control and protect. It was a strange sensation. Jerome never really gave anything a second thought, he just did as he pleased and as he wanted. Now he f was able to see things like he hadn’t before and didn’t know he was capable of, with a future.

“This means you’re not the clown princess anymore” he whispered in your ear.

You lifted your head from his chest and gave him a confused look.

“You’re the queen” he continued “and we’ll have our own little clown princess... or prince”.

“Well you’re right about that” you laughed, letting all the anxiety go “But try telling that first part to my dad...” that was going to be the hard part.

Jerome felt confidence flow through him, the thought of talking to the old man clown didn’t have the effect it used to. Now he was going to have his own clown baby and he thought he could conquer the world. He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a heavy kiss. He pulled away from your lips slightly when he got his fix.

“Oh I can’t wait”.

[nyeusigrube-haven]

All Just Glass: excerpts

(originally posted in 2004)

Prologue I 1981

That idiot. If he appeared and disappeared one more time, she was going to strangle him.

As nonsensical as that idea seemed, since he didn’t need to breathe. But she was annoyed.

11:48. She should have been out of here by now, but this vampire was playing havoc with her self-control. Or the faint apparition of willpower she mistakenly liked to call "self-control."

Abruptly, a hand was resting on her right forearm, not tight enough to restrain yet, though the potential was there. The other half of the pair snaked around her to proffer a calla lily.

"A gift, for the most beautiful woman here," he offered.

She shook his grip off, turning, and finally the admirer who had been stalking her to- who had invited her to this bash, actually- stood before her.

"You’re late," she said. "You were supposed to-"

He hushed her, a finger over her lips, and she was shocked enough that she actually stopped talking. When he had invited her, he had promised to show up by ten; here it was almost the Devil’s Hour.

"I was here," he teased. "I never said I would introduce myself."

She glared. 11:50, the clock read. She really needed to get out of here; midnight was not a fond time for her at these parties.

"Would you care to dance?" the vampire offered.

"First I want to know your name." He had been following her around, playing merry hell with her hunting trips, and flirting for months now. From small gifts left in absurd places, to poetry called down from darkened rooftops as she stalked her prey, to odd moments where chocolate cake would appear beside her bed while she slept, he had attempted to court her.

Her! He was a vampire, infatuated with a hunter.

And finally he had invited her here.

And she had come. And she had been here for hours, mingling and playing nice, and hadn’t killed anything yet.

"Jerome," he answered. "Now would you like to dance?"

The music had surged into a slow song, ethereal and falsely peaceful.

They danced. Jerome was a fine dancer. More than fine.

11:57. His gaze followed hers to the clock. "How about a walk outside?" he suggested. A walk outside, while Devil’s Hour fell inside.

"Outside" included an Oriental garden, lush and beautiful. Jerome kept an arm around her shoulders as they walked, and she couldn’t tell if he was being friendly or trying to keep her from reaching the knife on the back of her neck.

"You know I have a fiancée," she said, wondering about this handsome vampire and how mad he truly was.

"The honorable Fredrick," he answered lightly. "He’s human, you know. No good for you at all."

She shook her head.

"You know what I am." She knew he did. But she needed to hear him say it.

"Of course." He sighed. Inside, a clock struck midnight.

"This is traditionally when you try to drink my blood, and I kill you," she said, wondering whether Jerome had plans to that effect. That was certainly what was going on inside- save for the second part. Most of the guests had no idea what their hosts were until the moment when the fangs were shown. Yet there was no screaming. There never was. She had seen enough vampires with their prey to know that the prey rarely fought. More often, it swooned.

"I don’t like tradition," Jerome answered. He stopped, facing her in the darkness. "How about we say this is the moment when I kiss you." He tilted her face up as he spoke. "And you kiss me back?"

They did. The clock had stopped striking when his lips met hers; she wrapped arms around his neck.

Jerome’s skin was warm as any human’s. She had never understood that.

His kiss trailed from her lips to her throat. She wrapped fingers around the handle of the knife on her left wrist, waiting for the bite.

He lifted his head, and she leaned against him, relaxing. "You are too tempting," he said, his voice shaky.

She could see through the window another couple, like Jerome and herself, the man’s lips at the woman’s throat. Only he had bitten. The woman’s fingers were twined in his hair, her body slack, supported by his embrace.

"What does it feel like?" She had never been in a position to know.

Jerome knew what she was asking. "If you don’t fight..." He shook his head. "It’s not something that can be described. It feels good. Really good." He took a breath, something that was completely unnecessary; it was one of those odd traits some vampires had, a habit left over from human time when emotions were expressed through breathing. "That’s why so many people are willing," he added. "And if the vamp can roll your mind, even better. You're a thousand miles away, floating in paradise in an instant."

She knew about those people, humans who willingly attended these bashes with the hope that some vampire would take their blood.

"Could you?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically tentative.

Jerome looked surprised. "Only if you let me."

She had known that. He wasn’t the strongest of his kind, and the defenses in her mind were powerful.

It was tempting. When would she possibly get this opportunity again?

She tilted her head back, brushing silky blonde hair from her throat. Jerome met the invitation instantly, his lips hovering over the pulse for a moment. He whispered, "Sweetheart," an endearment that seemed out of place, breath cool on her skin, and then she felt the press of fangs. She consciously lowered the walls in her mind, and then...

As he had said, there were no words. A million caresses. A flow of warm water. A sweet lethargy like the warm fuzzy stage just before sleep.

However it was described, when he lifted his head again, she wanted more. She tried to pull him back down and he laughed.

"I think you would be very cross with me if I took too much," Jerome said.

She settled for the next best thing, rising on her toes to try to meet his lips, but again he pushed her back.

"Not unless you want to taste your own blood," he warned her.

Not like she had never tasted it before.

Prologue II

The sunlight formed millions of rainbows as it fell through the thick, carved glass window. Millions of glass facets, etched to resemble a forest of ice, decorated the eight panes.

"Sarah." The sharp sound of her older sister’s voice snapped Sarah back to what they were doing.

Adianna had looked up from the book she had been studying, and now brushed from her face fine, silver-blond hair that had only begun to darken to the deep honey color it would later become.

"Okay, I’m bored," sighed another girl at the table, also blond, named Gabriel. Gabriel Arun, one of the oldest of their group at eleven years, lifted eyes the color of lightening storms to glance at the clock. "Do I really have to do this?"

"Yep," answered Michael solemnly. He still had a bit of a French accent, which Sarah loved the sound of. The Andre family had only moved back to the US a year ago, to join Michael’s great aunt’s side of the family, which included Gabriel.

"Just read." That commandment came from Zachary Vida, Sarah’s first cousin. Zachary was Gabriel’s age, but had none of her impatience.

"I think if I stare at this book for another minute, I might have to break something," Sarah lamented.

"Sarah!"

She hunched over as she heard her mother’s stern voice behind her. Dominique had entered the kitchen.

"Sorry, Mother." Her mother did not approve of familiar greetings; Sarah could not imagine how Dominique would react to hear one of her daughters say the word "Mommy" or- "Has Father come home yet?" she asked hopefully, as her thoughts reminded her.

He had been gone for a week now, a long time. And if he was gone more than one night, he always called. He never went away for this long without calling to talk to Sarah.

"He hasn’t called," Dominique answered coolly. She did not sound worried about the man she had married.

"I’m worried about him," Sarah confided. "Can’t Monica or someone-"

The wrong person to confide to, unfortunately. Before Sarah could suggest that one of the other witches might be able to help track the human man down, Dominique interrupted, "It doesn’t matter. Study, Sarah."

She returned to her book, and studied. Dominique took Gabriel and Zachary into the next room, and the sound of Gabriel’s fierce kia’s soon filled the area as she practiced. Zachary was more quiet, though occasionally he would correct Gabriel or apologize to Dominique about a mistake.

They were allowed to fight. The older kids got to practice combat, and everyone else got to stay here, studying page after page of history and laws.

Michael put a hand over Sarah’s as she shut the book and leaned her head on the table.

"We’ll get a chance later," he whispered, careful not to let Dominique hear them talking. "Come on. We’ve only got another fifteen minutes, then we can take a break. Then I’ll fight you."

She smiled slightly. Michael and Gabriel were from the Arun line. That meant they did not need to memorize the pages of Vida laws, and they did not need to practice the iron control that Sarah, Adianna and Zachary were having drilled into them by Dominique.

They still needed to know the histories, though. Sarah had read these books so many times, she had come to know many of the creatures described within. She could recognize a lot of them on sight. Generations of genealogy were drilled into her.

That was the point of the books, the journals as Dominique called them. One contained the Vida ancestry, back until nearly five thousand years BC.Another contained the tedious lists of their prey, which Dominique had mostly gathered, based on sketches and descriptions written by witches long dead. All the creatures that the list named were vampires. With their sprawling, ever growing numbers, their black eyes and the bloodlust that drove them, they were slowly hunted by Sarah and her kin. Since long before the books were started, there had been Vida witches, defenders of humanity Sarah liked to think.

Michael’s line, the Arun line, was much younger. Its roots were a mystery; it was only known that they healed faster and were stronger than any other witch. And of course, the Arun line had fewer rules.

Adianna was studying those rules right now, poring over the faded, black script of Brina D'Bergitta Arun, who had lived in the late sixteen hundreds. She had recorded all the laws and some of the history of the lines of witches- ten pages of her tight handwriting covered the complex sets of Vida laws.

A sensation like ice down her spine caused Sarah to stand and look up towards the door, outside which she could sense... something. For a moment it had felt like vampire, but now that was gone. Michael was looking at her, puzzled, and Adianna was also watching the doorway.

"Sarah-"

"None of them would be stupid enough to attack one of us here," Sarah interrupted her sister, as her natural curiosity led her to investigate. The aura felt almost human, familiar, but still somewhat wrong.

She opened the door, but could not immediately comprehend what her eyes saw. Two feet, in dark sneakers. Dark pants. A hand, with a simple white-gold wedding band on one finger. Fair hair.

Her knees collapsed from under her, and she found her left hand on the shoulder of the victim, in the blood. The blood...

So red it seemed to make all other color fade. Once she had recognized it, the rest of the picture became all too clear. Though blood had turned the surface crimson and burgundy, she could recognize him.

His skin was the color of chalk. The bones of his arms bent in strange locations, and cuts were visible on his wrists. The blood had spilt from shallow knife wounds, which marred his shoulders, face and stomach. The unbroken skin of his arms showed bloody lips.

She felt her breath coming faster, the beginning of a scream that might never end building in her throat. She sensed Dominique behind her, a cool and controlled presence, and finally her gaze snapped up. Without conscious intent, she met the eyes of the two vampires which had brought her father here. They were standing on the porch of a house across the street, licking bloody lips, one male and one female.

"Sarah-"

She only realized she had stood when Dominique grabbed her shoulder. She glanced back at her mother, then across the street again. Seeing the hunters move towards them, the villains had disappeared into the air.

"Sarah, come inside," Dominique said, her tone as gentle as Sarah had ever heard it. "Zachary, could you give me a hand?"

In shock perhaps, she backed into the house. With some help from Zachary, Dominique lifted her husband’s body and brought it inside. Adianna called one of the other witches to say what had happened.

Dead. The word finally made its way into Sarah’s conscious mind. Her father, dead. Her mother and her sister, both treating this as ordinary. Zachary, calmly helping Dominique place the body some place where the neighbors would not see it. Michael had turned away, and was leaning against a wall. Gabriel’s eyes lingered on the blood for a moment, then she snapped her gaze away and left the room.

All so quiet, so controlled.

"How can you be so calm?" Sarah asked Zachary, as Dominique spoke on the phone to Zachary's older sister. His mother and father had both been taken by these creatures. How could he stand there so calmly?

"How else should I be?" he asked, almost emotionless. Not with shock, but with control, with that damnable Vida control that Dominique preached.

Why the control? She ranted silently. Why can’t I scream and cry, when the man who I call father is dead?

Instinctively, she reached out to the first thing she could find, the water glass Zachary had been drinking from, and threw it with all her strength at his feet. The glass shattered, and Zachary’s eyes widened for a moment. "Sarah, calm down," he ordered softly. "There’s no reason to-"

"How can you say that?" This time she threw one of the ancient, precious books, nearly hitting Dominique in the back. "There’s no reason for me to be furious? How can you not be? They just..." Her breath caught, but she continued in a violent whisper. "They murdered my father. How can you not care? Adianna, how-"

"I care," Adianna answered, her voice tight. She put a hand on her sister’s shoulder, and took a breath to control herself. "I care, but crying isn’t going to help anything. This is why we hunt- to stop things like this."

"Then why isn’t it working?" At the blank looks she received from everyone else in the room, she demanded, "We’ve been hunting them for thousands of years, and every year there are more pages in the book. There are more people dead. There are more hunters dead. There are more..." She raised her bloodied left hand. "More of this. More blood spilt out of spite and hatred and-" She slammed that fist into the window she had been daydreaming about earlier. She was young, but she had been trained as a hunter, and she was not a human child. She had never been a child. The glass was thick, and as it shattered she felt it slice into her skin, but she welcomed the sensation.

Softly, she hissed, "See that? That’s what we make out of everything we do. It’s all illusion. There’s no rainbow there." Enjoying the destructive chaos, enjoying letting out the anger, she shattered a second pane. "It’s all-" A third one, obliterating the moon. "Just-" A fourth, wiping out the oak trees that had hung over the pond. Pain shot up her arm, but she ignored it, as any Vida child was taught to do.

Ignore the pain, continue. Let it cut, ignore the blood, continue.

Chapter 1

"Sarah. Sarah, wake up."

The frantic voice dragged her abruptly from the world of sleep, and she soon found herself clinging to whoever had woken her.

She had nearly forgotten. She had nearly made herself forget what had happened, where all the hatred stemmed from. Not the old, dusty books of Vida ancestors who had been wronged, but that one incident.

The vampires who had caught her father had broken his arms, then chained him to a wall by his wrists. It had taken him three days to die, with them bleeding him a little each day.

Her mother had been furious at Sarah’s actions, though Dominique would never admit to the emotion. She had chastised Sarah for her "irrational loss of control," then set the four bones Sarah had broken in her hand.

There had been no more outbursts since. Her control had grown as icy as her mothers’.

You never react. Just like you never shout out in pain, and never cry, even when you make enemies of your friends.

Nikolas had said that to her once. Nikolas, who had hunted her down for harming his family. Nikolas, who had finally taught her how to forgive.

Nikolas, she realized, to who she was clinging as if he was the last line to shore.

She pulled away, awkward. She had needed someone to hold her as the memories washed over her, so raw even ten years later, but she had not expected that someone to be Nikolas.

"Are you all right?" he asked, letting her slip away.

She nodded once, trying to drag around herself whatever part of her composure still existed. She stood, shivering not from cold but from scores of memories she would just as soon forget.

Like a black and white photograph, Nikolas had a beauty and- as she had only recently learned- an innocence that made him seem as if he might be an angel. His hair was pure, moonless black; usually he wore it back, which only served to accent eyes the same impossible jet, but now it fell around his shoulders. The black was set against his fair skin, so pale it seemed almost white by contrast. He knew no deceit, and as he had told her many times, he never lied. His world was as clearly defined as black and white.

She was too tired, and romanticizing. If Nikolas was angel, he had fallen long ago. Within that sense of black and white was a clear line between friend and foe, and she remembered what it had been like on the wrong side of that line.

"Just a nightmare... but thank you," she added reluctantly.

Nikolas shook his head softly, but did not argue with her. Instead, he explained, "Kristopher went to SingleEarth. He didn’t want to leave you, but we decided it would be best to let Caryn know what was going on. I would have gone..." Nikolas trailed off with a shrug. He would never be allowed within five hundred yards of SingleEarth.

Caryn Smoke was another witch, about Sarah’s age, from a line of healers. SingleEarth was a peaceful establishment for all creatures, human and non, witch and vampire, who wanted to learn to live together without fighting. Nikolas had been barred from the building long ago.

Sarah sighed heavily, wrapping her arms around herself as if cold. She wanted Kristopher to be home.

Kristopher was Nikolas’s twin brother, physically identical save for a scar on the left side of his chest, where a knife wielded by one of Sarah’s ancestors had nearly struck his heart more than a hundred years ago.

They were similar like moonlight and starshine. Both brothers were fiercely loyal to their friends and kin, and powerful enough to be effective protectors even in the world of the night. However, where Nikolas saw the world in black and white, Christopher could see a thousands shades of gray. Where Nikolas could give a straight answer of yes or no, Christopher could give a thousand reasons for either. Nikolas could be either angel or demon, while Christopher frequently seemed far more human.

Christopher had been the one to show Sarah how human vampires could be, after seventeen years when she had been taught that they were simply monsters who should be destroyed from the earth.

"When did he leave?" Sarah asked, trying to shake off the last remnants of her dreams. None of Dominique’s lectures or books had been able to teach her hatred more effectively than that scene had.

Nikolas glanced to a clock that hung on the wall, a piece of modern artwork that gave Sarah a headache whenever she tried to read it. "About five minutes ago." Looking back to Sarah, he asked gently, "What was the dream about?"

She shook her head, turning away. "Nothing."

He pressed, "Bad memories?" Her gaze whipped back to him, a sharp remark on the tip of her tongue, until Nikolas hastily explained, "I didn’t read your mind, Sarah. You know I wouldn’t do that. Our kind doesn’t create dreams- when we sleep, we can only remember. What kind of memory can leave the indomitable Sarah Vida shaken?"

If he wanted to know, she would tell him. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, and bluntly described, "I was seven years old when my father died. He was killed by a pair of vampires, who trapped him and tortured him for three days before they killed him." She saw Nikolas flinch away from her tone, but he held her gaze. "I found the body, nearly fell over it."

For a moment she had to pause, then she pulled her anger back around her. "I was furious, and punched a window. I broke four of the bones in my left hand, hitting it, and sliced myself open." Her voice softened as she continued, as she remembered her mother’s reaction. She held up her hand, showing the tear-shaped scar that still remained. "This would have healed, but my mother bound my magic for a week, so I would feel every injury I had given myself. She didn’t care that her husband was dead, but she was furious that her daughter had lost control."

She flexed the hand against phantom pain as she remembered. "She had me practice fighting, even against the older kids. A Daughter of Vida needs to be able to continue, to fight on, even when she can hardly breathe past the pain. I was seven years old."

Nikolas looked pained, and she saw his hand close and open as he checked the impulse to reach out to her. Nikolas learned quickly; he knew she would only pull away.

Her voice soft, slow, she added softly, "They had cut into his arms, his shoulders and wrists, just to hurt him more. That’s where all the blood came from."

This time Nikolas leaned heavily back against the wall, closing his eyes with a whispered curse. His voice was pained, and she knew why.

The scars now on her arms had mostly been made by Nikolas, cut into her skin with a switchblade. They were his symbol- his and his brother’s. Most humans who wore them were proud of the marks, and those same marks were a silent warning to any vampire who might think of harming those humans.

Nikolas had marked Sarah when they had still been enemies. She had still been a vampire hunter, and had just before told Kristopher to leave her alone or she would kill him. Nikolas did not react well to people threatening his brother.

The tense moment was broken as someone knocked on the door. "Sarah?"

In the two seconds it took her to reach towards and open the door, Sarah had wiped the pained emotions from her expression. The action was natural, a habit- it was frequently more difficult to show emotion than to hide it.

"Kristopher."

He kissed her gently on the forehead, and then pulled her forward to catch her lips. "I’m sorry. I thought I would get back before you woke up."

She shrugged, not wanting to share the whole story. "I’m wasn’t human to begin with- I’m not as weak as I would have been."

She had been changed less than twenty-four hours ago, and most fledglings her age slept from sunrise to sunset, but according to the abstract black and white clock on the wall it was only one in the afternoon. Usually she slept later, and she could feel tiredness sucking her down even now, but she was grateful that Nikolas had woken her from that painful memory.

Nikolas did not tell his brother why she had woken, and Sarah was grateful for his discretion. If Kristopher asked, Nikolas would answer- he hid nothing from his brother- but Kristopher did not ask. He was intelligent enough to know that something had happened, because if Sarah had just woken naturally Nikolas would not have come to her, but he also understood that if she wanted him to know, she would tell him.

Kristopher nodded in the direction of a suitcase left in the hallway, just beyond the still open door. "Caryn packed that for you. She took them from your old room before your mother could destroy them, but hadn’t had a chance to get them to you."

The outfit she was wearing had been borrowed from one of many humans who lived half in and half out of the vampiric world, protected by Nikolas and Kristopher.

Sarah nodded again, grateful, as she slipped away from Kristopher. "Thanks."

"Sarah?" Kristopher caught her arm when she turned to fetch the bag Caryn had thoughtfully packed. "Have you decided yet what you’re going to do?"

She paused a moment, then answered truthfully, "I don’t know."

She had places to go if she wanted to. SingleEarth would take her, and even Dominique would hesitate to hunt her down in that establishment. Kristopher and Nikolas’s sister, Nissa, would take her in and teach her how to live without killing. Yet she was drawn to Kristopher’s offer of shelter, safety and companionship.

Except that she didn’t want to be protected- not by Kristopher, not by SingleEarth, not by Nissa. She was used to standing on her own.

So why was she still here? Kristopher had offered to her a place to sleep for the day, and she had accepted, exhausted and confused and needing to delay the decision for a while.

She just... didn’t know. She had been a hunter all her life; she had lived to kill vampires, and now found herself one of them.

She didn’t know where she could go from there.

Chapter 2

Adianna Vida was on the verge of breakdown. Complete emotional meltdown. She knew it; everyone knew it.

Not a scratch. She examined herself in the mirror. After that fight, she should have been hurt, but as always she was unscathed but for rumpled clothing and tangled hair.

She took a deep breath. Control. Control.

Dear goddess.

She pulled a brush through her hair as if to avenge a wrong committed against her.

She had seen him in SingleEarth. The vampire’s image was still clear in her mind. The image of his lips at Sarah’s throat would never fade. She had overheard enough of the conversation with Caryn to know that Sarah was "alive" still.

Not Sarah. Just one of them.

"What is wrong with you?" The voice was cool, full of disapproval.

Adianna turned to face her mother, forcing her expression to be calm. "I’m sorry, Dominique. I ran into some trouble on my way home from SingleEarth."

That much was true. The exact trouble had been a pair of vampires, determined to end her existence as a threat to them.

"What did SingleEarth have to say?" Dominique asked.

Dominique had sent Adianna to SingleEarth to ask about Sarah’s whereabouts. Luckily, Caryn had not known when Adianna had spoken to her where the witch-turned-vampire was, or even that she had been turned vampire.

Then the leech had shown up.

"They didn’t know anything about her."

Dominique knew that Sarah had disappeared one night. She knew that the vampires had tried to bloodbond her, an action that could kill any Vida. But Dominique did not accept "probably" for an answer. She wanted the body.

She wanted to make sure her youngest daughter was not exactly what she was.

"Track her down, Adianna," Dominique ordered. "I don’t care how long it takes."

Track her down.

She didn’t want to kill Sarah. "I will."

And she would, because she had received the order, and to defy it could get her disowned. Adianna and her cousin, Zachary, were the last pureblooded witches in their line; that line could not be allowed to die.

For a moment, Dominique looked tired. Her sapphire Vida-blue eyes looked much older than her not-quite forty years. And in that moment, Adia remembered that Dominique had married and had her first child when she was even younger than Adia was now.

So young. Sarah’s age.

Dominique never spoke about her childhood, not with her daughters anyway. To them she only spoke of duty and control. Had she ever been more open with her husband, before he had died? Had she ever been softer than the stone she was now?

"And if you find her, and she’s been turned into one of those... creatures," Dominique sighed, "put a knife in her heart."

Adianna swallowed thickly. "I will."

--- END ---