#(or in this case my dressing gown. which he stole last year. I have since bought a new one 🙄)

[the-toasted-teacake]

Darth Luke.

[bush-viper-cutie]

A Warm Kiss

Pairing: young!severus x reader

Word Count: 2,799

Rating: T for teen

Plot: You decide to talk to Severus Snape during Slughorn’s party and you both end up having a special night.

Warnings: momentary sadness (crying), kissing

A/N: Ends on a happy and hopeful note so I hope this will bring you joy :D

Posted: 3/15/20

Masterlist

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(y/n) = your name

(y/e/c) = your eye color

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The dungeon corridors were as dimly lit at night as they were during the day. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself as you walked up to the potions classroom door. It had been dead silent the whole way down here – except for the sound of your heels hitting the stone floors – but as you turned the knob and pushed the door, the sounds of the lively party inside came seeping through.

Slughorn’s decorations were phenomenal. He had transformed the dreary and dark classroom into a beautiful display of holiday colors and delicate decorations. The room was fit for a king and queen to dance the night away.

 You smoothed down your dress and pulled down at the sleeves, forcing them off your shoulders like your friend had instructed. Careful not to trip as you entered, you looked around and spotted the drink and snack table.

Slughorn glanced in your direction and lifted his glass, welcoming you as you made your way inside. There were lots of boys around wearing black and white dress robes, but the girls really stole the show. They were dressed in their house colors, elegant gowns and dresses all graceful and posh from their hair to their shoes.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you made it to the drinks. You had wanted to go casual – much too casual – but your friend had insisted on this dress. With help from some spells, your hair looked as gorgeous as any other girl’s at the party. The only thing you weren’t too sure about was your choice in shoes.

The drink in your hand tasted sweet as you took a sip, licking your lips. There were dozens of people here talking and laughing, mingling. That was the point of Professor Slughorn’s party, after all. He had even invited some of his past students to join him, for networking purposes.

You sighed, knowing how tonight would go. You weren’t going to go meet a bunch of strangers, and you were likely to stay planted in this spot until you spotted someone you knew and liked.

“So, who do I know…” you whispered. Well you knew most of the students here, having spent six years with them. “So, who do I like?”

You looked out into the crowd, and then at the people standing as far away from the crowd as possible. There was a boy dressed in the school uniform looking down at a book. His long black hair was falling around his face, but you could still recognize him as Severus Snape.

You’d never talked before, but you did have a few subjects together. He always sat in the back of the class and was the last one in and first one out of places. He didn’t seem to be waiting for anyone, nor did anyone approach him for several minutes.

You looked down into your drink and shrugged. This was a party, and it’s not weird to talk to people at parties. You set your glass down on the empties tray and made your way towards Severus. You thought it’d be best to approach him from the side, so it wouldn’t seem like you were walking directly towards him.

The music was quieter in this area, and the sheer curtains made for a very nice backdrop. You stood a foot away from him and tried to see what he was reading. The book looked so warn you could only make out a golden lower-case ‘a’ on the title.

“Hi, what are you reading?” At least the question was genuine.

Severus’ head shot up to look at you, startled. He looked confused. You glanced at the book in his hands and back into his eyes. He closed it over his finger and looked down.

“It’s just a textbook…” His voice was no louder than a whisper.

You smiled and stepped closer to him. “I’m (y/n).”

He nodded, “I know.”

You nodded back, hating how awkward you were being. “Why are you reading at a party?”

He looked up at you, furrowing his dark brows. “I can read where I want.” He turned and started walking away from you.

“No, I didn’t mean that you shouldn’t… Actually, maybe I should have brought a book too.” He stopped and turned back to you, slowly. You took this as a cue to keep going, “Smarter than just staring down into a drink all night long, that’s what I’ve been doing.” You laughed.

He nodded and looked down; his body language didn’t seem like he was going to walk away from you. You stepped closer again and looked out at the crowd. Everyone out there seemed so social, how on earth were you going to pull this off.

“We have potions together, don’t we?”

He nodded again.

Be bold, you told yourself. “Actually, I know we do. You finish the assignments faster than everyone in the class.” You smiled as he lifted his head to look at your eyes, as if trying to discern something about you.

You smiled, “How are you so good? Do you practice brewing the potions a lot? Or do you do it for the first time in class like the rest of us.”

He nodded but kept eye contact.

You gave a small giggle, placing your hand over your mouth. “Yes to which one?”

His dark eyes had gotten more intense after your laugh; his thin pink lips were now parted. He stepped closer and looked at his hands. You noticed they were stained and had faded pink scar lines over most of his fingers.

“I practice a lot,” he spoke.

His voice was smooth and soft as he enunciated every word gently. It was very different to the venomous tone he’d given you minutes ago. You blushed realizing you hadn’t responded yet and he was looking at you.

“Can I guess that you were reading the potions textbook?” You smiled and gestured for the book.

He handed it to you, watching as you flipped to the page he was on. Sure enough there were ingredient lists and brewing instructions with tiny scrawls between some sentences.

“Is it your favorite class?”

“It’s the class I’m best at…” He responded faster this time.

You handed the book back to him and smiled. He took it and tucked it under his arm. His eyes came back to look into yours, but for a second you saw them look down. At your dress? Your lips? You weren’t sure but your heart was pounding very fast and you found yourself admiring more of his face.

Should you flirt with him? Would that be wise? You mentally shrugged and decided on a compliment, “I’m really impressed… And kind of jealous.”

“That potions is the class I’m best at?”

“That you’re the best in our potions class.”

He frowned suddenly, “What game are you playing at? Why did you come talk to me?” His tone was as harsh as it was deep.

His questions took you aback. Had you been too bold? It had only been a couple of compliments, but his stiff posture and piercing eyes made you think you’d gone too far already.

“Severus, I’m sorry. I’m not playing at any games… well I mean I had attempted at flirting just now – but what I said was still true. I’m not saying I’m lying just that I might have been too forward in my attempt to flirt with you?” You blushed but held your ground, waiting for him to respond.

His face was red, but it didn’t seem out of anger.  He shifted his weight and looked down again. He wasn’t running away from you, you noted.

“Severus?” You waited, but no reply came. “Is it ok? That I’m trying to flirt with you?”

Severus nodded his head slowly, making your heart skip several beats. You grinned widely and giggled again. He looked up at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His cheeks were still tinted pink.

“To be honest, I didn’t come talk to you to flirt. I guess I was trying to be social…” You noticed he was looking at you intently, taking in every word you said. “I never really see you, since you sit in the back of the class a lot… and talking to you now I noticed that – “ You cut yourself off, unsure if what you were saying was too awkward.

He took a step closer, as if encouraging you to continue. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night. The room smelled of pastries and sugar, but as you breathed in, you could make out a different scent.

It was Severus. You could tell his uniform had been worn unwashed for several days, but it oddly made you ache to get closer to him. You could feel his eyes on you still, as you looked down at his grey sweater.

“Sorry,” you blushed, “you smell really good.” You laughed at how embarrassing you were being, covering your eyes with your hand and running it down your cheek.

“(y/n)? Why are you flirting with me? What are you expecting to come of this” Severus’ voice was just as quiet as before, but he was close enough that you could hear the velvetyness of it. It was the gentlest it’s been all night and quite calming, as well.

You looked up into his eyes. They were dark and deep but glistened, reminding you of the lake at night, under the glow of the moon. “What would you allow to come of this?” Your voice was a whisper now too.

He let out a shaky breath and a tense chuckle. “You do realize who you’re talking to, don’t you? They call me Snivellus. The whole school hates me, and they’ll hate you too, (y/n).”

You didn’t say anything. You knew that there were several people that talked about how awful he was, who hated him, and went out of their way to pick on him. You knew if your friend was here they’d have never let you come talk to him.

Severus turned his head away from you. He breathed out suddenly. He opened his mouth to say something but shook his head and walked away, crossing the room with clenched hands. You let him. He opened the classroom door and left, leaving you standing there alone.

You looked down at your hands and your dress and at the crowd of classmates dancing and talking to the adults about possible career options. You didn’t really care about anyone here, you thought and left as well.

You blinked several times, trying to see into the darkness of the corridor. Your eyes adjusted and you headed for where the Slytherin house was located. You were hoping to catch him before he got inside. Actually, you were hoping he’d even have gone in this direction.

You turned a corner, shivering like crazy, and saw under the orange glow of a lantern was Severus. You stopped, looking around at the darkness surrounding the illuminated spot, and decided it was best to speak your mind and expose your feelings.

He was sitting on the ground, knees bent and his head between them. His book was on the ground beside him laying open. You slipped off your heels and summoned the slippers you normally wore around your dorm and slid them on.

You approached him carefully, not sure what to say or do if he didn’t want you there. You sat down next to him, holding your knees up like he was and pressing your dress down as best you could. You let out a shaky breath.

“Severus?”

He didn’t answer; he didn’t even look up. Before you had sat down you noticed his breathing had seemed harsh and irregular, but now his shoulders were still and rigid.

“I’m sure people would bother me about talking to you… but… I think you’re cute and… I’d rather talk to you than look for the approval of a bunch of people I hardly know and whom I will likely never see again outside this school.”

Severus tilted his head to look at you, some of his long hair stuck to his cheeks. He’d been crying. You picked up his book and placed it on your lap, stretching out your legs. There were tear stains on the open page.

“You think I’m what?” His voice quivered slightly.

You met his eyes and smiled, “I think you’re cute... And now I wish you sat in front of me in class.”

He laughed and wiped his tears. He rested his chin on his forearm and shook his head, “You’re too honest.”

You laughed with him and turned. “Oh, trust me, I’m holding back.” You kept laughing but he didn’t join. There were still tears in his black eyes as he watched you, his eyes moving between your eyes and down to your mouth.

“Don’t hold back?” He whispered, turning to you as well. His arms came down to his sides, hands resting on the cold floor. He tucked his long legs between you both, sitting perfectly still.

Your heart was beating hard and fast. Did he mean it? Was he really liking everything you were saying? “When you stood close to me, and I could tell how good you smelled, I wanted to kiss you then.”

His face went red again and his eyes looked down at the lace patterns of your dress, but his head didn’t move. “Only then?”

“And now,” you whispered.

He closed his eyes and parted his lips slightly. His lips were thin, but you couldn’t stop admiring them. They were pink and glossy from the tears; he had a perfect cupid’s bow and you could easily imagine how soft his lips would be.

“May I kiss you?” You inched closer and waited.

He nodded slightly, still closing his eyes.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling a shiver run from your body to his. You grabbed his robe and pulled him in closer. You felt his nose poke at your cheek and you shut your eyes, breathing in one more time. You closed the gap between your mouths and felt his warm wet touch as your lips parted for him. You closed your lips around his upper lip and pulled away slightly, tugging.

He copied you with your bottom lip and let out a quiet moan. You kept going, loving how good he tasted and how gentle and warm his kisses were. You slid your hand down his chest to wrap around his side, pulling him closer. Your other hand wound around his neck and tangled in his hair. He moaned again and this time you did too.

You let your tongue run over his lip, tasting his sweetness as he tugged at your bottom one. You wanted to push him down and hold him there, enjoying every inch of him, but you held back. The hand you placed on his side slid up his chest again and wrapped around his neck. Everything about this moment seemed perfect.

The passage had been freezing moments ago, but now the air around you felt hot. You pushed in closer to him, deepening your kiss and breathing him in. You played with his hair, stroking it and pulling gently.

You realized you needed a breath and pulled away slowly, you opened your (y/e/c) eyes to look into his onyx ones. He was looking deep into yours, a big grin tugging at his wonderful lips. You kissed him quickly one more time, needing one last taste, before sitting back.

You both turned away, blushing. You ran a finger over your lips, loving how warm and tingly they felt after being connected to his.

“You’re a good kisser,” you whispered.

“You too,” he whispered back.

You didn’t want this moment to end, but you had to make sure this wasn’t a one-time thing. You needed more, you wanted more of him. “Do you think… maybe, we could study together? And be friends too? Both actually, and if you can only do one maybe friends?” You started rambling, “And if you want to be more than friends that’d be really great. Whatever you want – but I would really like to be more – “

You were interrupted by his laugh, “I’d love to… Be all of that.”

You sighed relieved and happy that your constant awkward behavior hadn’t driven him away. He seemed really nice and kind when it was just the two of you and his very obvious walls had come down a bit.

“Then I’ll see you, hopefully tomorrow, if you’d like. I’ll be at the library after lunch,” you got up and helped him to stand as well.

Shy again, he nodded. “See you, (y/n).”

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Masterlist

[caffeineivore]

For @apsaraqueen

This was written as cheerupemofic for BAMF a few weeks-ish ago, I think? Never got around to posting it but here it goes. Somewhat experimental R/J. Some angst but... it’s, uh, for BAMF? So. Yeah.

***

“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” - Pablo Neruda

I.

The Moon is beautiful and stately, all marble palaces and graceful domes, but leached of colour in an eerie wash of silvery white. Jikokuten takes a knee in the throne room and looks askance at the royals, for even they blend into this ghostly dream-world with their pearlescent gowns and platinum locks. The weather and grounds are flawless, not a single leaf or stone out of place. It’s almost too perfect-- ominously so-- and to one whose kingdom only dons white for mourning, it’s jarring. 

And then he sees the High Queen’s court file in, the warrior princesses of legend, flanking the throne two by two, and there she is, a spot of scarlet in the sea of white. Ebony hair and auspicious red skirts, eyes like the twilight sky before it turns full dark. He blinks, and his heart stutters. 

II.

The sheep are languishing in the heat, and getting leaner by the day with nothing but dry brush to eat, and Jochi coaxes some of his own water onto the littlest and weakest of the lambs. It’s foolish, and more than likely the little animal would die anyway, too malnourished to survive the drought which had blighted the steppes this summer. His father had always railed at him for being too soft-hearted, too foolish and un-Mongolian, but a part of Jochi always had perhaps too much sympathy for the foundlings and the weaker ones. There is a nebulous memory, perhaps not his own, of standing up for a boy with eyes like the open sky and a shock of black hair from-- what? He doesn’t quite know.

He hears the sound of hoofbeats-- it is a grand procession, the entourage of one of the Khans, and that is both blessing and curse, for they would surely bring much-needed supplies and victuals if returning from a successful raid, but just as surely would bring death and doom against any interlopers or opposing factions. Jochi’s yellow hair would stand out like a beacon, and so he pulls up his hood despite the summer heat and draws back into the shadows to watch the group. The warriors are fearsome indeed astride their ponies, bows and sabers at the ready. There is an iron-haired Chieftain at the forefront, proud and indomitable with eyes as fierce as a falcon’s. And then right behind him, dwarfed by the stalwarts flanking her, must be the clan’s princess, wearing a fine red dress and ornaments of silver and amber around her neck and atop her raven hair. She’s beautiful, with eyes as fearless as her Sire’s, but more so, something about her face strikes such a pang in Jochi that he forgets himself, and steps forward, right into the path of the procession. He’s knocked senseless not a moment later under the marauding hooves, but he only has eyes for the desert-mirage loveliness of the princess’ face.

III.

Jun doesn’t meet Ru-Yi until the wedding. She’s brought over to his familial estate in a lavish palanquin, amidst loud, raucous music and the rapid pops of firecrackers, and escorted to the altar by the servants to kneel next to his older brother Kai. As the heir apparent, it is imperative that Kai make a good marriage to a wife who would not shame him and brings all the right assets to the match, and Ru-Yi’s father is a very wealthy, powerful man. The newlyweds courtesy to their parents and each other, and then someone lifts the bride’s red veil away from her face, and Jun almost drops his goblet of wine. It is a stunningly elegant face, all cherry lips and willowy brows, but what’s more, though he’s certain he has never met her before, it’s somehow familiar. She, too, seems to feel it, because her eyes linger on his for a moment too long, a thin line of confusion drawing between those brows, before she turns away with a bland smile for the procession of well-wishers. 

Despite the many presents of dates and lotus seeds on the wedding day, and, months and years later, the foul-smelling tonics and powders, she never bears Kai any sons, and Jun watches, heart heavy, as Kai takes on one concubine after another, carouses in the brothels night after night, as the lines between Ru-Yi’s brows grow deeper and deeper with cheated joy and thwarted wishes. He doesn’t care if she doesn’t bear any sons, but she’s not his concern-- will never be his concern. There are flowers left on her doorstep in the mornings, still wet with dew and with neither name nor note. It’s poor consolation for both of them, but she’s not his to love.

IV.

The air is arid and far too hot, almost tinged the same turmeric-yellow as the hot sun blazing down overhead. Captain Geoffrey Lindhurst with Her Majesty’s navy had been in India for all of four months, and is still getting accustomed to the local climate, so different from the ever-present London fog. The local food, too, is a far departure from the starchy Sunday roasts and meat pies and puddings of his boyhood, with its exotic spices and bountiful portions. The servants at his bungalow are politely quiet and do their tasks without complaint, but he has the sense that there is far more to their lives and customs than the scant glimpses that he sees now and then.

He’s out taking a walk on a balmy evening, and passes by one of the temples. He knows nothing of the religious beliefs of the locals, with their somewhat-fearsome-looking, animalistic gods with their fiery eyes and six hands and elephant heads, but many of the locals seem quite devout in their faith, praying several times a day and eschewing certain foods in their diets. Even at this late hour, the temple is open for worshippers, its air smoky with incense, and he sees a young woman emerge, clad in the flowing, traditional garments with a gauzy scarf over her dark hair. His gaze meets hers for only a split-second-- light blue to orchid-- but it jolts his system harder than a glass of raw gin. He has no idea who she is, and moreover, everything in his training and upbringing tells him that he has no business dallying with any of the locals. Geoffrey opens his mouth to speak, against everything that he’s known all his life, but she vanishes down one of the narrow paths and disappears into the night before he can say anything, or be quite sure that she wasn’t just an illusion, a trick of the light. 

He visits the temple enough in his years stationed here that he gets to learn the local traditions and customs, and indeed become quite familiar with their rituals. But he never sees her again.

V. 

The dame walks into his dilapidated hole-in-the-wall of an office on stiletto heels the red of fresh blood. Jack knows trouble when he sees it, and she’s all but radiating it like smoke surrounding a wildfire. “Help you, ma’am?” He keeps his voice brusque and businesslike even as she shrugs off a lustrous black mink stole to reveal crimson silk and fiery diamonds, curves in all the right places. “What brings you to this side of town?”

“I need a private investigator, and they say you’re the best. My driver’s outside, and he’s bigger and meaner than you,” she adds in a snide tone to match the diamond earrings. “My name is Rowena Warrington. Henry Warrington’s daughter.”

The Governor’s daughter has as much business in the seedy part of downtown as he would rubbing shoulders with millionaires in a fancy ballroom. “Don’t you have security, or lawyers, or whatever, to deal with whatever you’re dealing with, Ms. Warrington? This is a bad neighbourhood.”

“And no one’s been able to figure out the truth behind my mother’s death, so here I am.” Presumptuously, she makes herself at home, sitting down in a battered folding metal chair like it’s a throne as she lights a cigarette. “Price is no object, of course.”

“No.”

He won’t be swayed, because this is exactly the type of trouble that he doesn’t want, even though she turns on the wheedle, and later, the tears. He lets her leave in high dudgeon, and shuts the door behind her, and tells himself that his instinct-- one that tells him in no uncertain terms that he’d narrowly escaped a terrible fate-- was spot-on. And he busies himself with the usual mundane work which flows in every day like water through a leaky pot-- fraud cases. Stolen heirlooms. Prisoners on the lam. Cheating spouses.

He reads about the huge, tragic scandal some months later in the paper-- the cover-ups, the blood money, the extortion, the beautiful young woman whose life is tragically cut short because she’d had the audacity to poke her flawless nose where it definitely didn’t belong and wouldn’t take no for an answer, and is shocked at the grief which hits him. He owed her nothing, he tells himself as he broods into his second whiskey. She said herself that her driver was bigger and meaner than him. She should’ve been safe. Should’ve been careful. 

Should’ve been protected, with one’s very life. 

He throws the newspaper into the fire and watches it curl up into ash as he pours himself another one.

VI.

The busful of unconscious mortals is just where he wants them, of course, and Jadeite goes about the business of collecting their energy, siphoning it for Queen Metallia’s use. It’s rote and routine, but then a flash of scarlet catches his eye, and it’s the miko from the temple at the last bus-stop. Black and white and red all over, and he pauses, kneels down to move a strand of her lustrous black hair out of her face. 

“So beautiful. Ever since I’ve seen this girl, there’s something about her…” Something haunting, like a hint of incense smoke that clings to the air or a raven’s feather, black against white pavement, a memory that is-and-isn’t his. With a gentleness that he’s not had cause to employ in a very long time, he carefully shifts her into a more comfortable position, one more like natural sleep than the unconsciousness of a sinister spell, and lingers, unable to tear his eyes away from her exquisite, weirdly familiar face, until the all-too-unfortunate shouts of angry feminine voices tells him that he is not alone, and the Sailor senshi have arrived.

The miko opens her eyes and everything snaps into place a split-second before she transforms and a rage of fire heads for him, and he has but a moment to mouth the word ‘Sorry’, unheard and unacknowledged, before the flame hits in a wall of agony and heat. It’s no more or less than he deserves.

VII

The world is lustrous, glistening crystal, but unlike the Silver Millennium and the Moon Kingdom, the diamond brilliance of the towers bring colours into sharp relief, turning white sunlight into countless prismatic rainbows and reflecting the pale blue of the sky as rich sapphire. Jadeite takes a knee with his compatriots in the throne room and bows his head before the royals-- his King and Queen, united at last. Countless lives had been lived to lead to this-- an entry to a paradise hard-earned. 

There she is, still, raven hair and red skirts, and after, when everyone has broken off into their groups, he seeks her out. He has no reason to expect a positive reception, but the words are long overdue, and she has a right to them. 

“Lady Mars.” He makes an elaborate leg, as one might have done in a decadent court in the era of gilt and Rococo. She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t storm away or glare, and that’s something.

“No need to stand on ceremony, Lord Jadeite. We’ve met before. More than once, I daresay.”

“And I’ve loved you every time.” The words are baldly spoken and perhaps too blunt, in poor form, but they’ve been buried for far too many years and lifetimes already. She halts, and he notices that her breath isn’t quite steady, and that gives him the courage to remain where he is instead of making a hasty escape.

Finally, a queer sort of half-smile crosses her face as she tilts it back up to his. “You’ve been terrible about showing it up to now, haven’t you?”

“Up to now,” he agrees. “It doesn’t have to remain so. Unless you wish it.”

“Hmm.” She glances away, but stays standing where she is, within reach. “I suppose we’ll have to see.”

[akimmito]

Heroes are made by the path they choose

Chapter 1 | AO3 | Next

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Chapter 2

Marinette is justly mad, she curses the assassin who stole the miraculous butterfly and how much the world seems to hate her. The Akuma attacks just in HER show and HER models. Who does he think he's? The worst thing is that the Akuma fashion sense is still disastrous and a pain in the eyes, she is not going to allow this to continue.

She takes Damian by the arm and pulls him away of the place to find a private and safe place away from the Akuma. Damian looks angrily at the temporary villain who has just gutted the poor girl in the delicate black silk gown with intricate silver and gold embroidery; a bloody scene, not that it affects him too much, even though it's been a year since he last saw a similar scene. That thing just ruined his mother's job.

"Damian, notify the Akuma to the MT". She indicates when they are in a quieter place. Plagg dramatically steps out of the clutch and looks at them both, not content to get back into action, but it must be done. Damian looks at her expectantly at any other indication and she notices it. "It's still unwise for Tunin to come out, Thuban made his debut too recently and it would be suspicious for both teams to have a kid."

"Okay, mother." It's not that he's happy with his adoptive mother's decision, but he can understand her reasoning. Thuban had his first patrol two nights ago and it would be too eye-catching, because, for some reason, Paris finds it entertaining to constantly talk about his vigilantes and the miraculous team that had been inactive for seven years… until today.

He's beginning to detest Paris and his need to make a spectacle of it all. They are heroes, not movie stars. It's not the only thing that bothers he, but he can keep it to himself.

"Plagg, it's time to work."

"I hope you will give me a lot of cheese after this." He complains dramatically, facing his chosen one. The deal was simple, there was no one capable of using the Miraculous Black Cat within the MT and it's much easier to bond with Tikki than with Plagg, so Marinette made the executive decision to give up being Ladybug for Kagami and she became LadyNoir permanently, it was the best course of action they could take.

"I know. Plagg, transform me!"Soon, her old pink dress is swallowed by the green light of transformation and the cat's black costume covers her, slightly different from the first costume; the long braid always grazes her ankles, but her outfit is more armored than before, the toxic green of her eyes almost seem to shine. She smiles at her son and leaves.

Damian watches her walk away towards the Akuma and he decides to get out of there, it will not be a hindrance for his mother or for any of the team that attends the fight. As he walks away towards the group of people seeking refuge from the attack, he sees how Jade Shield, Rakkīgāru and Lady Abeilla arrive. He believes that the four of them will do the job much faster. They are the most capable of all and it's not that he think the others are incompetent (maybe a little), but they really are the most prepared for this first Akuma and the return to action.

He hardly learns that the Akuma's name is Revanger. He already knew that Akuma's names were rare and some ridiculous (almost as much as his clothes), but, like all of Paris, he expected something different. Just as the villain was a fluorescent orange "make me bleed my eyes", his mother must be suffering in that battle.

And as he thought, ten minutes after the arrival of the three heroes, the Akuma is purified and the cure is launched, but although everything has returned to the original state, Damian doesn't miss the general atmosphere. Everything feels so dark and heavy, a shadow has fallen in Paris.

The news of the return of the miraculous butterfly spreads like wildfire.

He's heading home alone, the event seems to have lost importance. It annoys him that his mother's work has been affected by the attack, but he knows that she will recover... she's frustratingly optimistic and, above all, very creative. She has demonstrated it many times.

That night, in the apartment, Damian watches the news with Marinette. The presenter speaks as if she is notifying that the entire city has been sentenced to the electric chair, which could be true if the possibilities are taken into account that this new villain could be the same murderer of Nathalie Sancoeur.

Marinette doesn't even want to think about it, but it's her job, her duty to Paris.

Announcement is also given of the launch of the new application for Akuma, Alerte Monarch, created by the company KanTech in collaboration with the heroes and the MT, designed not only to offer Akuma locations, shelters, safe routes, relocation assistance in other cities (if required for health, maternity or psychological problems that could make them an easy victim) and physical training, also a comment area, chat rooms and a section for publications so that the population can share their own advice and experiences personal.

Damian knows the application in great detail, he was able to see the plans and codes first hand because it is directly connected to the MT's mother computer, although it is not that the public should know that information. Max did a great job and kept improving his over the past year, waiting for the villain.

But most importantly, from tomorrow, the MT will take a new case.

Track down the miraculous butterfly.

________________________

Paris Fashion Gazzete @PFashionGazzete

Paris Fashion Week welcomes its second day with an Akuma! How has Marie Lenoir taken it when her show is interrupted by a fluorescent orange villain who disembowels her models? Look it here!

[Attached Link]

#FashionParis #Akuma #NouveauHawkmoth #ChauchemarParis

Héros parisiens @MTHeroes

The Miraculous Team returns! Do we have a hero renewal? They are great!

#HeroesComeBack

Marie L. @MarieLenoir

I'll find this new Hawkmoth (or whatever it's called) and hit him in the face, it's a promise.

Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen

Hawkmoth (old or new) always has the talent to ruin my day. I hate you, fall into a burning well and die.

#Akuma #FuckYouHawkmoth

Damian @DamianLenoir

@BourgeoisQueen I can prepare the burning pit if someone agrees to throw he there.

Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen

@DamianLenori Perfect.

Alix @LostHeroBunnix

@BourgeoisQueen @DamianLenoir  I offer to throw it into the burning pit.

Max K. @MaxKan_Tech

@BourgeoisQueen @DamianLenoir  @LostHeroBunnix Don't kill.

Epic Kim @Epic_originalChampion

@MaxKan_Tech Calm down, Batman xD

[holyfool-arcana]

The Holy Fool: Chapter 1

What the Waters Giveth

Word Count: 1.7k Warnings: Mentions of infant death, murder, and infidelity Rating: M Description: An Arcana AU set in a Vesuvia that is half-noir and half-fantasy.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ

When Liuyin Mei nearly kicks down the door to the shop at dawn, Asra Alnazar immediately sensed, deep in the dregs of his instinct, that something foul was afoot.

For one, they were dressed, not in the high-collared and pale blue blouse that at this point was customary of them, but rather, in clean, simple linen, a pale figure outlined by the light of early morning. They were wearing white-- funereal colors, though on Liuyin, the veil and robes made them look like one of the immortals or angels or gods that lived atop the snowy mountains, aloof from worldly troubles.

For another count, it was dawn, when Liuyin was a habitually bad sleeper and a chronically late riser, and every moment before the sun was in the midst of the sky that they spent awake, they also spent cursing and looking like an alley cat rescued from the rains.

“Asra,” the white-garbed sorcerer had said, and in that space between sleeping and waking that he was surfacing from, the sound of his voice in their accent made his heart leap into his throat and stick there for a beat, two beats, before the rhythm reestablished itself in the wake of the tension held in those two syllables.

“You need to come down to the docks with me,” they’d said instead-- and turned to walk out the door entirely-- detained only by Asra, who’d reached out, clutching at the wide hem of their sleeve and feeling the fabric texture beneath his fingertips, magic rising to meet it-- magic seeped with death and decay, smelling faintly of that incense Liuyin sometimes burned.

“Have you eaten yet?” He’d asked, a question wholly unnecessary, a token of his concern nonetheless.

Liuyin shakes their head, and he’d nearly offered to take them to the bakery, before he recalled the urgency in their voice. “Let’s go.”

He’d tugged on a shawl and stumbled out into the streets in the early morning mists blanketing the town, distorting everything into a fanciful version of itself. Meanwhile, Liuyin forged on ahead, floating almost like a ghost in white.

For a moment, his heart was struck by a hidden foreboding, redoubling his pace and walking closer to his companion, letting the warmth radiating from their figure and the bitter-sweet scent of herbs reassure him.

As they paced down the street, only their breathing and the sounds of their shoes against cobblestone and the rustle of fabric to accompany them, Liuyin spoke up.

“My aunt received a client last night. Very wealthy, with stress on discretion being of utmost importance,” they’d reported.

“What services?” Asra couldn’t help but ask, but seeing Liuyin in their current garb, he had a good clue as to the nature of the house call.

For divinations, charms, and funeral rites, visit Liya Zheng and Associate’s today!

Namely, Aunt Liya and Liuyin ran a business that did some work on the side in blessing, cleansing, cursing, or otherwise invoking the spirits for their clients. Of course, this expanded into burial rites, especially for those matters that were more tinged in scandal-- a jealous lover shooting someone’s husband, a bastard daughter who’d been offed by the stepmother, the such. Said rituals were meant to prevent the deceased from coming back to haunt the wrongdoers.

(“That seems terribly corrupt,” Asra had declared, making a face.

Liuyin laughed. “No more than politics is. And it brings in better money, too.”)

Liuyin threw him a sidelong look that indicated the fact he ought to already have an idea. “Someone died. A child or baby, I believe, from the size of the coffin. Either that or there wasn’t enough of them left to bury-- we were tasked with banishing any traces of resentment or lingering malevolence it might have had on its person. I’m assuming a rather abrupt death, and the secrecy of it makes me suspect foul play in some form or another.”

“But you’ve no leads?” Asra asks, raising a brow. That was unlike Liuyin, who could suss things out with unerring accuracy akin to a bloodhound, as his own master, Old Fox, had once mentioned.

Liuyin shook their head. “I didn’t have the chance to-- someone stole the coffin before I could.” Their face took on a grim set, like one of the marble statues of the Scourgelander family.

“Then,” he drawled, the key points coalescing into a simplified timeline in his mind, “I suppose they recovered the body at the docks, then, if we’re headed in that direction?”

Liuyin let out an involuntary shudder, and Asra made to tug off his shawl and drape it around their shoulders instead-- before they’d given a tiny jerk of their head to reject this help. “They recovered more than that.”

The briny scent of the sea air was clearer now as they made their way down the empty streets of Goldgrave. “How many?”

“Not a body, just an arm,” Liuyin corrected. “A metal prosthetic.”

Involuntarily, Asra felt his eyes widen, thinking back on a visit to his offices three nights prior, the sharp scent of lavender lingering, the amused, wine-dark eyes and the silhouette of an elegant figure. “Do you think it might be…?”

Liuyin’s answering glance was grim. “Extremely possible. Who else around these parts has a metal prosthetic?”

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ

Three days prior

Old Fox had gone travelling again, Asra noted with half a spark of annoyance after he’d returned from another house call-- someone wanted him to look into their husband, having gotten suspicious of his hours kept in the commerce district, and he’d taken one glance around the man’s study before he’d informed the lady of the house that Lord Sforza was having an affair.

It was really, nearly tragically obvious, and he didn’t even need to pull the tarot deck from his pocket to confirm this suspicion. The clashing notes of perfume were not a smoking gun, it was a crater on fire that someone had fired a cannon at.

Sometimes, he lamented the fact that his business had evolved from “Asra Alnazar, Magician and Diviner” to “Asra Alnazar, reader of tarots for bored nobles and finder of unfaithful spouses and eloped heirs”.

At least, as Liuyin had quipped, it brought in good money.

He’d slung his shawl over the coatstand by the door, and his satchel on top of it, then pauses when a figure rises from the chaise in the corner. “Asra Alnazar, I presume?” a silky voice accompanied the movement.

“Who’s asking?” Asra calls, a bit hesitantly, given the unanticipated nature of this visitor.

The woman inclines her head towards him as he snaps his fingers, illuminating the shop with a few dim lamps and allowing him to see the elegant planes of her face, furrowed with worry. “Nadia Satrinava.”

“Young Miss Satrinava,” Asra had bowed by reflex, in a gesture of courtesy.

The youngest daughter of city councilwoman, Secretary Nasrin Satrinava, their family was as wealthy and powerful as they came-- of her six sisters, all were exceptionals-- one was their mother’s aide, one was an ambassador, one was a silent film actress, one was a naval lieutenant, one a philanthropist, another a doctor, the list went on and on… 

They were a veritable political dynasty that had their hands in every aspect of the public affairs in the city, how could one not know about them?

Speaking of which--

“Miss Satrinava, what brings you here today?” Asra asks as he rounds a counter and takes a seat in the chair opposite Nadia. “Is it not the day of your engagement party?”

And then there was Nadia, the youngest of seven, a journalist who, till recently, had been more or less out of the public eye, all of it thrown out the window when an engagement was announced in the Vesuvian Star, the premiere morning news of the city.

Nadia Satrinava, the youngest daughter of councilwoman Nasrin Satrinava, was to marry Count Lucio Morgasson.

As soon as the news broke, the rumor mill positively churned, from speculations of a passionate young love, to more outlandish rumors such as political alliances and scandalous accusations of premarital pregnancies. Asra was too polite to inquire into any of them, but the look on Nadia’s face spoke volumes.

“It is,” the woman confirmed hesitantly, almost diplomatically, before she scrunched her nose and curled her lip in something akin to distaste. “At least, till we couldn’t find my darling fiancee in time for his speech. You see, we’re pretending nothing is amiss-- my mother claims that if it were to come out the Count’s vanished, the ensuing panic cannot be a good thing. I left the party discretely to find you. My driver is parked in a secluded front a few stores down.”

Something in the intonation with which she’d said fiancee made him inclined to think it wasn’t an arrangement of love.

“Have you gone to check his residence? Or any of his usual haunts?” Asra asks. The Count’s reputation as a carousing hedonist was well-known throughout the city, another reason why the sudden engagement was so surprising to so many people.

“His servants said he’s left two days ago, and hasn’t returned since…” Nadia says, pauses, and then frowns deeply. “And all his companions with whom he usually revels with were all present at the party…”

“Is it possible he’s merely gotten cold feet over the betrothal with the engagement party drawing so near?” Asra prompted delicately. “A case of a runaway groom-to-be?”

“I’ve learned over the years to never ignore my intuition,” Nadia replies with a good deal of confidence. “And it’s telling me something is very wrong, Magician.” 

Asra worries his lower lip in between his teeth absently as the woman stands, the folds of her velvet gown rippling out-- indeed, it looked as though she did come directly from her engagement party, or at least, there was no time to change before coming here.

“I’m willing to pay handsomely for your services and discretion, of course. Name the price and it will be yours. Think on it, Magician,” she’d said, draping a houndstooth jacket over her shoulders. “I leave the decision in your hands.”

With that, she departed into the night on a lavender breeze.

[bamby0304]

The Hart III: Secrets

Chapter 14: Angel Radio II

Series Masterlist

Summary: Three months… Dean was gone for three months and now he’s back. He’s back and he truly has no idea how much things have changed. Life moved on while Dean was in Hell, and now things are complicated. With new faces and troubles right around the corner, will the trio find a way to come back together? Or has all hope been lost?

Warnings: Angst. Violence. Smut.

A/N: This chapter is extra-long in the hopes that you'll all love me for the lack of Lizzie love in the last few chapters. So, I hope you enjoy :):)

Bamby

EPOV

It was dark and late. I'd fallen asleep a few hours ago. Being home alone with nothing much to do... it left me feeling drained. With no cases and no one to keep me company, I'd thought an early night was in order. I'd actually been having a decent sleep… that was until a loud knocking on the front door woke me up at four o'clock in the morning.

Hurrying down the stairs, tugging on my dressing gown to cover my bare legs- seeing as I was only sleeping in some grey cotton shorts and a loose black shirt- I headed for the door. I didn't really care what I looked like. Not at this hour.

Groaning, I threw the door open, fully intending on yelling at whoever it was, only to stop at the sight before me. Dean, Ruby and a red-headed girl around my age stood there. The girl was nervous and scared. Ruby unsure and worried. Dean shocked and hopeful.

My heart sank. It had been over a month since I'd seen either Winchester. I hadn't realised just how much I missed them until this moment.

"Dean..." My eyes scanned his face. I didn't miss all the cuts and bruises. Letting go of my dressing gown, I stepped forward to cup his cheek, checking his wounds. "What the hell happened? Are you okay?"

He relaxed a little, offering me a small smile. "Hey, Liz."

"Liz?" the red-head spoke up suddenly, sounding surprised. "As in, Elizabeth Rose Hart?"

Pulling away from Dean, I turned to eye the girl. "Yeah... who's asking?"

Before she could answer, Dean started talking, pulling my attention to him, "Liz... we need your help." He sighed, "Long story short, this is Anna, she can hear angel radio. Angels want her dead-"

Ruby cut him off, "Demons just want her."

Ignoring her, Dean went on, "I know it's a lot to ask, but you think we can stay here until-"

It was my turn to cut him off, "Come inside."

...

"Here." I offered Anna some tea and a blanket as she sat on the couch in the panic room. "The walls are made of iron and salt. This place is one hundred per cent demon proof," I assured her.

"Which I find racist, by the way," Ruby commented from outside the room.

Dean rolled his eyes at her from where he stood on the other side of the panic room, watching Anna and I. "Write to your congressman."

Shaking her head, Ruby kept her eyes on me, pulling three bags from her pocket. "Here."

I stepped forward, taking the hex bags from her. "What are these for?"

"They'll hide us from angels, demons, all comers. They're extra-crunchy."

Shrugging, I tossed one to Dean and handed another to Anna. "Don't lose that, okay," I told her.

"Thanks, Ruby." Dean looked down at the bag and then to Anna. "So, Anna, what's playing on angel radio? Anything useful?"

"It's quiet. Dead silence," she answered, voice so soft. She reminded me of a mouse. Small quiet, scared, adorable.

Dean clearly didn't like that answer. "Good. That's not troubling at all."

Anna turned to watch him as he moved around the room. "We're in trouble, huh? You guys are scared?"

Looking from Anna to Ruby, to me, Dean didn't answer right away. The two of us stood there, looking at each other, not wanting to tell the truth. We both knew she was right. We both knew we were all in trouble, and totally screwed. But that didn't mean she had to know.

Pulling his gaze from me, Dean finally answered. "Nah."

"Hey, Dean!" Sam called from upstairs.

I smiled down at Anna comfortingly. "Stay down here, okay?"

She nodded, shifting to get a little more comfortable. "Thank you, Elizabeth. For all of this." She gave me a small smile. "I'm, not sure why the angels don't like you."

It was like a slap to the face, putting a frown on my lips. The angels didn't like me? I thought I was just background noise, someone that hung around the guy they wanted to use to save the world. I knew they didn't like Sam, but me?

Before I could really dive into the idea, Dean called out, "Liz. You comin'?"

Clearing my throat, coming back to earth, I nodded. "Uh, yeah."

Following Dean, the two of us headed upstairs and into the kitchen where we found Sam waiting. The moment he saw me, a smile spread on his face.

"Lizzie?"

"Sam." I smiled back at him, moving forward to wrap him up in a hug.

After a moment, he pulled away, looking down at me. "Where's Bobby?"

"The Dominican," I answered as we started to head into the office.

"He's working a job?"

"God, I hope so," Dean piped up. "Otherwise, he's at hedonism in a banana hammock and a trucker cap."

"Now that's seared in my brain." Sam shuddered, causing me to chuckle lightly.

"How's the car?" Dean asked, always worried about his Baby.

"I got her. She's fine," Sam assured him.

With that out of the way, Dean got straight down to business. "All right, what did you find on Anna?"

"Uh, not much." Sam led us to the desk as he opened the file he was holding. "Her parents were, uh… Rich and Amy Milton. A church deacon and a housewife."

"Riveting," Dean noted sarcastically.

"Yeah. But there is something here in the report." Sam gestured to the papers where it showed what he was talking about. "Turns out this latest psych episode wasn't her first. When she was two and a half, she'd get hysterical any time her dad got close. She was convinced that he wasn't her real daddy."

"Who was? The plumber, hmm?" Dean asked, joking around. "A little snaking the pipes?"

Sam sighed at his brother. "Dude, you're confusing reality with porn again."

I missed this about these two. How they could joke around and mess about, but at the end of the day, they always got the job done. I missed the fact that they never judged or teased. You could be whoever you were around these two, and they'd go along with it.

Getting back to it, Sam turned to the file again. "Look, Anna didn't say. She just kept repeating that this real father of hers was mad. Very mad. Like wanted-to-kill-her mad."

I frowned. "She was two?"

"Kind of heavy for a two-year-old," Dean noted, as shocked as I was.

"Well, she saw a kid's shrink, got better, and grew up normal," Sam finished.

"Until now," Dean noted. "So, what's she hiding?"

"Why don't you just ask me to my face?"

The three of us were startled at the sound of Anna. Looking over, we found her standing off to the side, in the doorway of the office, arms crossed over her chest, Ruby next to her, the red-head clearly not happy.

Dean turned to glare at Ruby. "Nice job watching her."

Ruby gave a short shrug. "I'm watching her."

Sighing, Sam turned to Anna. "No, you're right, Anna. Is there anything you want to tell us?"

"About what?"

"The angels said you were guilty of something. Why would they say that?"

"You tell me," Anna started, tears growing in her eyes. "Tell me why my life has been levelled. Why my parents are dead. I don't know. I swear. I would give anything to know."

"Okay." Sam shrugged. "Then let's find out."

DPOV

After coming back to Bobby's having left to go get Pamela, I helped her down the basement stairs, leading her down step by step carefully. "We're here!" I called.

A moment later, Sam walked around, smiling up at us. "Pamela, hey!"

"Sam?"

He nodded down at her as she came to stop in front of him with me behind her. "It's me," he told her. "It's Sam"

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

Reaching forward, she grabbed his outstretched arms as his hand landed on her shoulder. "Sam, is that you?"

"I'm right here."

She let out a breath. "Know how I can tell?" Her hands carefully dropped before she suddenly grabbed his ass. "That perky little ass of yours. You could bounce a nickel off that thing," she chuckled. "Of course I know it's you, grumpy. Same way I know that's a demon, and that poor girl's Anna and that you've been eyeing my rack."

"Uh... uh... uh..." Sam stuttered.

She just shook her head at him. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. I still got more senses than most."

"Got it."

"Now..." Pulling away from Sam, Pamela looked over to where Ruby, Anna and Liz stood. "Come here." She stretched her arms out. "You know who I'm talking to."

Smiling widely, Liz stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Pam. "God, I missed you."

Pamela held her for a moment longer before she pulled back, a slight frown on her face. "Is there something you're not telling me?" Her hands gave Liz's shoulders a light squeeze. "There's something different about you..."

Liz looked guilty. It was only for a second, and I had a feeling I was the only one who caught it, but it was gone before I could read into it. "Everything's fine, Pam. I swear." It was a lie, but no one was going to question her. We all had secrets. "Why don't you come meet Anna?"

Nodding slowly, Pam let Liz lead her over to the red-head. "Hey, Anna. How are you? I'm Pamela."

Anna was as nervous as ever but surprisingly gave Pamela a smile. "Hi."

"Dean told me what's been going on. I'm excited to help."

"Oh. That's nice of you."

"Oh, well, not really. Any chance I can dick over an angel, I'm taking it."

"Why?"

"They stole something from me." Reaching for her glasses, Pamela showed Anna what I'd seen before. Where her eyes had been, now sat white plastic balls. "Demon-y, I know. But they're just plastic. Good for business. Makes me look extra-psychic, don't you think?" She laughed, which managed to make Anna's smile grow a little more. "Now," wrapping an arm around Ann's shoulders, they started for the panic room, "how about you tell me what your deal is? Hmm? Don't you worry."

I was about to follow when I noticed Liz step up to Ruby. The two of them sharing a look. Nothing really unusual about it. It was when they walked off to stand outside the panic room together, side by side, that's when I thought something was up. Maybe Sam wasn't the only one who had Ruby on their good side.

EPOV

I stood with Ruby outside the panic room, watching as Anna settled on the bed in the room, Pamela pulled a chair up by the bed, Sam sat on a box near the door and Dean sat on the desk by the bed.

Once we were all still, Pamela got started. "Nice and relaxed. Now, I'm going to count down from five to zero. When we're at zero, you'll be in a deep state of hypnosis. As I count down, just go deeper and deeper, okay? Five... four... three... two... one. Deep sleep. Deep sleep. Every muscle calm and relaxed. Can you hear me?"

"I can hear you," Anna answered in her sleeping state.

"Now, Anna, tell me... How can you hear the angels? How did you work that spell?"

"I don't know. I just did."

"Your father... what's his name?"

"Rich Milton."

"All right." Seeing as Anna wasn't pushing herself enough, Pamela upped the ante. "But I want you to look further back... when you were very young... just a couple of years old."

Anna shook her head. "I don't want to."

"It'll be okay. Anna, just one look. That's all we need."

Anna started to struggle. "No."

"What's your dad's name?" Pamela pressed. "Your real dad. Why is he angry at you?"

"No. No! No." Suddenly Anna let out an ear-piercing scream. "No!"

"Calm down." Pamela stayed very calm.

But Anna just kept screaming and struggling. "He's gonna kill me!" she yelled. The lights above her flickered as she tossed and turned, screaming in fear and pain.

"Anna, you're safe," Pamela assured her.

"No!" Anna screamed again, and this time, the lights exploded before the door shut in Ruby's and my face. "He's gonna kill me!"

Eyes wide, I reached for the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Shit." Pulling back a little, listening to the screams inside, I knew I had to get in there. Looking to the door, I forced it open with my mind, using so much strength I nearly ripped it from its hinges.

Suddenly Dean was flying across the room after Anna pushed him away in her panicked state.

"Dean!" I hurried over to him. Helping him to his feet, I made sure he was okay before we both turned to Anna and Pam again.

Pamela stood and reached for Anna, seeing that the girl wouldn't calm. "Wake in one, two, three, four, five." Just like that, Anna was calm as she slowly woke up. "Anna..." Pamela brushed Anna's hair from her face. "Anna? You all right?"

Carefully, Anna sat up. "Thank you, Pamela. That helped a lot. I remember now."

Sam frowned, standing on Dean's other side. "Remember what?"

Anna looked over at us. "Who I am."

"I'll bite. Who are you?" Dean pressed.

"I'm an angel."

SPOV

In the office, out of the basement, Dean, Pam and I leaned against the desk, Ruby stood in the doorway of the kitchen, Anna paced in the middle of the room, while Lizzie stood off in the corner.

"Don't be afraid, I'm not like the others," Anna assured us.

Ruby crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "I don't find that very reassuring."

"Neither do I," Pam added.

Not bother to change their minds, Anna turned to Dean. "So... Castiel, Uriel. They're the ones that came for me?"

How did she know that? "You know them?"

She shrugged. "We were kind of in the same foxhole."

"So, what, were they like your bosses or something?" Dean asked.

She gave a little smile. "Try the other way around."

He grinned at her. "Look at you."

"But now they want to kill you?" Pamela was clearly not happy about this situation, and I honestly didn't blame her. So far- besides bringing Dean back- the angels hadn't done much to earn our trust.

Shrugging again, Anna started to pace once more. "Orders are orders. I'm sure I have a death sentence on my head."

"Why?" Pamela want details, just like the rest of us did.

"I disobeyed. Which, for us, is about the worst thing you can do. I fell."

Dean frowned, confused. "Meaning?"

It was Pam who answered though. "She fell to earth, became human."

"Wait a minute," I started, needing some things to be cleared up. "I don't understand. So, angels can just become human?"

Anna nodded. "It kind of hurts. Try cutting your kidney out with a butter knife. That kind of hurt. I ripped out my grace."

"Come again?"

She looked over at Dean again. "My grace. It's... energy. Hacked it out and fell. My mother, Amy, couldn't get pregnant. Always called me her little miracle. She had no idea how right she was."

"So, you just forgot that you were God's little Power Ranger?"

She nodded at Dean's question. "The older I got, the longer I was human, yeah."

"I don't think you all appreciate how completely screwed we are," Ruby noted, drawing everyone's attention to her.

Anna sighed. "Ruby's right. Heaven wants me dead."

"And Hell just wants her." Ruby shook her head. "A flesh-and-blood angel that you can question, torture, that bleeds." She looked to Anna. "Sister, you're the Stanley Cup. And sooner or later, Heaven or Hell, they're gonna find you."

"I know." Anna wouldn't stop pacing. "And that's why I'm gonna get it back."

Now that was not what I was expecting to hear. "What?"

"My grace," Anna elaborated.

"You can do that?" Dean sounded impressed.

"If I can find it," Anna explained.

"So, what," Dean started, trying to wrap his head around all this news. We all were. "You're just gonna take some divine bong hit, and, shazam, you're Roma Downey?"

"Something like that." Anna's answer didn't leave me feeling too confident.

"All right." Dean nodded, a grin growing on his lips. "I like this plan. So, where's this grace of yours?"

"Lost track. I was falling about ten thousand miles per hour at the time."

"Wait." I might be able to work with that... "You mean falling, like, literally?"

"Yes."

"Like the way a human eye can see? Like a comet, maybe, or a meteor?"

"Why do you ask?"

...

I'd been researching all afternoon and well into the night. Sitting on the couch in Bobby's office, books and old magazines surrounding us, I showed Ruby what I'd finally found.

"Here. In March '85, a meteorite vanished in the night sky over northwestern Ohio. It was sighted nine months before Anna was born, and she was born in that part of Ohio."

She looked down at me from where she sat on the arm of the couch, a smirk on her lips. "You're pretty buff for a nerd."

Ignoring her comment, I got to the point. "Look, I think it was Anna." I grabbed another book to show her. "And here, same time. Another meteor over Kentucky."

"And that's her grace?"

"Might be."

"All right." Shrugging, she stood and started to walk away. "That just narrows it down to an entire state."

I closed the book with a sigh. "Look, it's a start."

"Sam... I'm sorry." Shaking her head, she turned to me.

"For what?"

"For bringing you this mess. If I had known, I would have kept my trap shut."

"Yeah, well," I put the book back on the couch beside me, "we'll muddle through."

"Not this time. You do not want to get between these two armies. It's Godzilla and Mothra. If one side doesn't get us, the other one will."

"So, what do you want to do? Dump Anna and run?" I asked. the look on her face told me she was thinking exactly that. "Forget it." getting up, I grabbed my laptop and went to start cleaning up. "Look, I know the angels freak you out-"

She cut me off, "Forget the angels. It's Alastair I'm scared of."

"Alastair?"

"You met him in the church. Practically the grand inquisitor downstairs. Picasso with a razor."

"And?"

"And you should pull him out and throw him back in the pit. If you weren't so out of shape."

I leaned against the desk with yet another sigh. "Ruby-"

"No. Your abilities. You're getting flabby."

"Yeah, so how do I tone up?"

"You know how," she claimed, stepping towards me. "You know what you got to do."

Looking away, I thought about it for a moment, just a moment, before I shook my head. "No, I'm not doing that anymore."

"Sam-"

"I said no," I told her, final.

"Well, then you better pray that Anna gets her groove back, or we're all dead." Turning, she went to leave, but before she could get far, I stopped her.

"Lizzie did it."

Pausing just steps from the kitchen doorway, she barely looked over her shoulder at me. "She did what?"

"She helped me pull a demon out. A strong demon." Pushing off the desk, I stood straight as Ruby turned to me. "She helped me pull out a demon without doing everything I've had to do."

Ruby looked shocked, impressed, and something else I couldn't quite read. "She did?"

I gave a short nod. "She can even start fires with her mind now."

There was a short silence that fell over us before she let out a short and harsh laugh. "That's why she was here instead of with you and Dean, isn't it? Because of her powers?"

"She freaked out," I admitted. "Left on Halloween, over a month ago."

Shaking her head, Ruby actually looked pissed and disappointed. "You of all people should know that going through something like that... you need people you can trust, Sam. Lizzie needs you."

"But, Dean-"

"Screw Dean," she snapped. "He doesn't understand. You do. Out of everyone in the world, she's the closest you're going to get to someone understanding you. You're the closest she'll get to someone understanding her. So be there." Turning, she went to leave again, only to stop herself. "Is there any chance Lizzie could pull Alastair out?"

"No." I didn't even have to think about it. She'd barely been able to pull Samhain out and that was while I worked with her.

"Then we really need angel-girl to get her mojo back."

DPOV

I parked Baby outside of Bobby's, seeing Anna leaning against another car, looking up at the night sky. Getting out of the car and closing the door behind me, I started towards her, hands shoved in my pockets.

"Pamela get home okay?" she asked after briefly looking over her shoulder at me.

"Yeah." I nodded, coming to stop beside the car, just behind her. "She said she was sorry. It's just after last time, she, uh... this is just a little too rich for her blood."

"I don't blame her. You guys should do the same."

"Well, we're not that smart." Moving around to lean on the trunk next to her, I spoke up again. "Can I ask you something? What do they want me for? Why did they save me?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. The angels aren't talking about it. And it was after I fell."

I nodded, understanding. But her answer left me wondering something else. "That's another question. Why would you fall? Why would you want to be one of us?"

"You don't mean that."

"I don't? A bunch of- of miserable bastards... eating, crapping, confused, afraid."

"I don't know. There's loyalty... forgiveness... love."

"Pain."

"Chocolate cake."

"Guilt."

"Sex."

I tried to think of something to argue with that, but there was nothing. "Yeah, you got me there."

She smiled. "I mean it. Every emotion, Dean, even the bad ones... it's why I fell. It's why... why I'd give anything not to have to go back. Anything."

"Feelings are overrated if you ask me."

"Beats being an angel."

"How's that possible? You guys are powerful and perfect. You don't doubt yourselves or God. Or anything."

"Perfect. Like a marble statue. Cold. No choice. Only obedience. Dean, do you know how many angels have actually seen God? Seen his face?"

I shrugged. "All of you?"

"Four angels. Four. And I'm not one of them."

"That's it? Well, then how do you even know that there is a God?"

"We have to take it on faith... which we're killed if we don't have."

That was a shock to me. "Huh."

"I was stationed on earth for two thousand years. Just... watching." She sounded so sad as she went on. "Silent. Invisible. Out on the road. Sick for home. Waiting on orders from an unknowable father I can't begin to understand. So don't tell me that-"

As she described what it had been like for her to be an angel, I couldn't help but find similarities in my own life. Before I knew what I was doing, I let out a short chuckle.

She frowned, turning to me. "What is so funny? What?"

I shook my head at her, feeling bad that I'd laughed when she was clearly upset. "Nothing. Sorry. It's just..." I shrugged, looking down at her. "I can relate."

"Hey!" We turned to see Sam standing a few feet away.

"Did you find something?" I asked.

He nodded. "I think so."

EPOV

I stood off to the side, Ruby having already shown and told me everything Sam had found. Right now, he was telling and showing Anna and Dean everything. Letting them in on the plan he was working on. Which wasn't really a plan. More like an idea.

"Union, Kentucky." He gestured to the map set out on the desk in front of them. "Found some accounts of a local miracle."

"Yeah?" Dean pressed, wanting his brother to get to the point.

"Yeah," Sam went on. "In '85, there was an empty field outside of town. Six months later, there was a full-grown oak. They say it looks a century old at least."

Pulling away from the desk, Dena turned to Anna. "Anna, what do you think?"

"The grace." She nodded. "Where it hit, it could have done something like that, easy."

"So, grace ground zero. It's not destruction. It's..."

"Pure creation," Anna finished for him.

...

I could not believe I was sitting in the back of the Impala, between Anna-the-angel and Ruby-the-demon.

Could this day get any weirder?

Before we'd all set off to find Anna's grace, Sam had pulled me aside and asked me if I wanted to go. I guess the others had just assumed I would. But he'd noticed how quiet I was being.

At first, I'd been about to say no. It's not like they really needed me. But one look at Dean, and before I realised what I was saying, I'd agreed to go with them.

Since then, I hadn't stopped kicking myself. Missing Sam and Dean was fine, but the way I was feeling towards Dean wasn't fine. I had a boyfriend, one I cared for dearly. So, what the hell was going on with me?

A chuckle from the front seat caught my attention as I caught Dean's eyes in the rear-view mirror.

"What?" Ruby asked what we were all thinking.

"Nothing." Dean shook his head. "It's just an angel, a hunter and a demon riding in the backseat." He chuckled lightly again, "It's like the setup to a bad joke... or a Penthouse Forum letter."

Sam sighed, shaking his head beside his brother. "Dude. Reality. Porn."

Dean scoffed. "You call this reality?"

...

Climbing out of the car, we all walked over to stand in front of Baby, looking up at the giant oak tree standing before us. The way the light shone down on it. The dark colour of the bark and deep colour of the leaves. The way it towered as if reaching for the heavens...

"It's beautiful," Dean said what I was sure we were all thinking.

"It's where the grace touched down." Anna nodded. "I can feel it."

"You ready to do this?" Dean asked her.

"Not really." But knowing she didn't have much of a choice, Anna started forward anyway, heading for the tree.

We were all a stop behind her, coming to stand by the large trunk of the magnificent oak.

"Anna, what are we even looking for?" Sam had a good point.

Reaching forward, Anna rested a hand on the tree. The moment she touched it, I saw her shoulders slump slightly, and without her saying anything I already knew what was wrong.

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It's not here. Not anymore. Someone took it."

...

It was dark, again. We'd found a barn to hole up in for the night, but we all knew we couldn't stay here. Not when every angel and demon were after us. We needed to be someplace where we could protect ourselves properly.

"We still got the hex bags," Dean noted, ready to get back on the road. "I say we head back to the panic room."

"What, forever?" Ruby asked, clearly not liking that plan.

"I'm just thinking out loud!" Dean snapped at her.

"Oh, you call that thinking?"

I rolled my eyes, not really in the mood for any arguments. "Would you two shut it?"

But Ruby wasn't letting it go. "Anna's grace is gone. You understand? She can't angel up. She can't protect us. We can't fight Heaven and Hell. One side maybe, but not both. Not at once."

"Um... guys?" Anna spoke up from where she sat on a desk. We all turned to her. "The angels are talking again."

"What are they saying?" Sam asked.

"It's weird. Like a recording. A loop. It says... 'Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight, or-'." She stopped herself short.

"Or what?" Dean pressed.

Turning to look at him, Anna answered. "'...or we hurl him back to damnation'."

"No." I shook my head. "No, that's not happening. We're not giving Anna up." I turned to Dean. "And there is no way in hell that you're going back to... well, hell. I don't care what we have to do."

Nodding, on my side, Sam could see there weren't many options left for us. "Anna... do you know of any weapon that works on an angel?"

"To what? To kill them?" She sounded offended, but when Sam nodded she answered simply, "Nothing we could get to... not right now."

"Okay, wait, wait. I say we call Bobby," Dean suggested. "We get him back from hedonism-"

Sam shook his head at his brother. "Dean, what's he gonna tell us that we don't already know?"

"I don't know, but we got to think of something!"

DPOV

Leaning over Baby's hood, reading a book on angel lore, I tried to focus. But my mind just kept going back to the possibility of the night ending with me back in hell... There was nothing worse than that. There's a reason why people describe shitty things as being hell. Hell, was hell.

Movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Looking up, I found Anna headed towards me. "Hey. Holding up okay?"

"Trying."

Nodding, I turned back to the book. "Yeah."

"A little scared, I guess," she admitted. "So, um... Dean." Pulling away from the book, I turned to her as she went on. "I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. You guys... you didn't have to help me-"

"Hey, let's can the 'thanks for trying' speech, you know? Participation trophies suck ass." I chuckled lightly.

"I don't know. Maybe I don't deserve to be saved."

"Don't talk like that."

"I disobeyed. Lucifer disobeyed. It's our murder one, and I knew it. Maybe I got to pay."

"Yeah, well, we've all done things we got to pay for," I noted.

I knew I'd done plenty of things I'd end up paying for sooner or later. Before and after Hell. Hunting, it wasn't exactly a clean-living life. We had to break laws to survive out here. Hurt people. It was just how we did the job...

But the worse things I'd ever done... well they all came from my time down under.

Moving to sit on Baby's hood, she looked up at me. "I gotta tell you something. You're not gonna like it."

"Okay. what?"

"About a week ago, I heard the angels talking... about you... what you did in Hell. Dean, I know." I tensed, and she noticed. Raising her hand, she cupped my cheek softly. "It wasn't your fault. You should forgive yourself."

I shook my head, pulling away from her hand slightly. "Anna, I-I don't w-want to, uh... I don't want to..." I struggled with words. "I can't talk about that."

"I know. But when you can, you have people that want to help. You are not alone. That's all I'm trying to say." Slowly and carefully, she stood and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my lips.

When she pulled back, I looked down at her, confused. "What was that for?"

She smiled up at me. "You know... our last night on Earth... all that."

A small grin found its way onto my lips. "You're stealing my best line."

EPOV

I stepped outside to get some fresh air and to make a call. As I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialled Tristan's number, I froze. My eyes had looked up and landed right on Baby, and I could not believe what I was seeing. Even through the foggy windows, I could make out the two intertwined bodies as they rocked against each other.

Dean and Anna. Together. In Baby. Having sex. Dean and Anna. Sex. In the Impala. Dean and Anna. Naked. In the car. Dean Winchester and Anna the angel... having sex.

"Hey, babe."

I jumped at the sound of Tristan's voice in my ear, having forgotten about the phone call for a moment. "Oh, uh… hi."

There was a long pause as I still stood there, watching as the fog on the windows grew, and the car continued to rock.

"Everything okay?" Tristan asked, pulling my attention to him again. "You, uh... you been taking your pills?"

Shaking my head to try and focus, I turned away from the car, wondering why I was hurting... "Uh, yeah. Yes. I've been taking them," I assured him. "I just... a lot of crap is going on and I wanted to know when you'll be back."

"Oh, babe, I don't know. My friend, he really needs me. You know? But I'm trying to work through everything as fast as I can so I can come back home to you. Promise."

A small smile spread on my lips, but I knew it was partially forced. "Okay."

"Look, I really gotta go. But I'll talk to you later." Before I had a chance to respond, he hung up.

Sighing, I shoved my phone into my pocket. As I did, my fingers grazed the packet of pills sitting in there. I hesitated only for a moment before pulling them out and taking not one, not two, but three. They were supposed to help keep me focused and centred, and if I ever needed to be those things, it was now.

DPOV

I walked into the barn, adjusting my clothes, only to come to a complete stop at the sight of Uriel standing in the middle of the open space, hands in his pockets, smug look on his face.

"Look at that. It's so cute when monkeys wear clothes."

Looking around, I noticed Sam, Liz, Ruby and Anna were nowhere to be seen. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

He shrugged. "It's the only way we could chat... since you're hiding like cowards."

"Don't normally see you off-leash. Where's your boss?"

"Castiel? Oh, he, uh... He's not here. See, he has this weakness. He likes you." The way he said it, it was as if that were a bad thing. "Time's up, boy. We want the girl."

"Wouldn't try that if I were you. See, she got her grace back," I lied. "Full-blown angel now."

"That would be a neat trick, considering," reaching into his top, he tugged a chain out. On the end of the silver chain sat a small tube filled with some kind of glowing stuff, "I have her grace right here. We can't let Hell get their hooks into her."

"Well, then why don't you just give her back her angel juice?"

"She committed a serious crime," he answered as if it were simple, slipping the necklace back into his shirt.

"What? Thinking for herself?"

"This is our business, not yours. She's not even human... not technically."

"Yeah, well, I guess I just like being a pain in the pooper."

"No." he grinned, moving towards me. "There's more." As he stopped in front of me, he laughed. "You cut yourself a slice of... angel food cake. Didn't you? Huh? You did."

"What do you care? You're junk-less down there, right? Like a Ken doll?"

"Ooh," he laughed again, moving back to his original spot. "Well, it's your last chance. Give us the girl, or-"

I cut him off, "Or what? What, you're gonna toss me back in the hole? You're bluffing."

"Try me. This is a whole lot bigger than the plans we got for you, Dean. You can be replaced."

I knew I was probably going to regret it. I knew I would hate myself for the rest of my life. But I already did, so it wouldn't make that much difference. As long as Anna and everyone else was okay, I didn't care what happened to me. Or, at least... I cared less for me than I did for them.

"What the hell?" I shrugged. "Go ahead and do it."

Moving forward again, he stopped in front of me once more, shaking his head. "You're just crazy enough to go, aren't you?"

"What can I say? I don't break easy."

"Oh, yes... you do. You just got to know where to apply the right pressure."

SPOV

"I don't know, man. Where's Ruby?" I was concerned. She had left last night, and now it was morning and she wasn't back...

"Hey, she's your Hell buddy," Dean mumbled before taking a drink from his flask.

I shook my head, walking over to Lizzie. "Did you see her? Last night, did you see Ruby?"

She shrugged. "I mean, yeah. I saw her, but-"

The barn doors suddenly burst open as Castiel and Uriel walked in. Dean, Lizzie, Anna and I all moved to the middle of the barn, standing together.

Coming to a stop a few feet away from us, Castiel set in gaze on Anna. "Hello, Anna. It's good to see you."

"How?" I shook my head at them. "How did you find us?" both pairs of eyes landed on my brother beside me. "Dean?"

Turning away from me, he looked to Anna. "I'm sorry."

I frowned at him. "Why?"

Without looking at me, eyes still focused on Dean's, Anna answered for him. "Because they gave him a choice. They either kill me... or kill you. I know how their minds work." Taking a quick breath, she leaned forward to kiss him goodbye. "You did the best you could. I forgive you." Standing strong, she turned to Castiel. "Okay. No more tricks. No more running. I'm ready."

"I'm sorry," Castiel told her.

"No. You're not. Not really. You don't know the feeling."

"Still, we have a history. It's just-"

She cut him off. "Orders are orders. I know. Just make it quick."

Before the angel could do anything, Alastair appeared behind us, with another demon and an injured Ruby. "Don't you touch a hair on that poor girl's head," he warned the angels.

Uriel sneered at the demons, walking towards them- Dean, Lizzie, Anna and I moved out of the way, knowing better than to stand between an angel and demon. "How dare you come in this room... you pussing sore."

"Name-calling." Alastair dropped Ruby to the ground before he stepped up to Uriel, just as disgusted. "That hurt my feelings... you sanctimonious, fanatical prick."

"Turn around and walk away now," Castiel ordered them.

"Sure. Just give us the girl. We'll make sure she gets punished good and proper."

"You know who we are and what we will do." Castiel stepped up to stand beside Uriel. "I won't say it again. Leave now... or we lay you to waste."

"Think I'll take my chances."

That's all it took before the angels and demons began to fight. Castiel dealt with Alastair while Uriel took on the other two. It didn't take too long before Uriel killed one of the demons- how I wasn't sure, but it had looked painful, like burning their insides.

Unfortunately, Castiel wasn't having as much luck. In fact, Alastair ended up getting the upper hand, pinning the angel to the ground as he started to chant something I'd never heard before.

"Potestas inferna, me confirma." His hand squeezed Castiel's throat. "Potestas inferna, me confirma. Potestas inferma, me confirma!"

Dean stepped forward then, using a crowbar he'd grabbed to knock Alastair away from Castiel. It was enough to get the demon to let go, but that's about it...

"Dean, Dean, Dean..." Alastair shook his head as he turned to Dean, Lizzie and I, the three of us blocking his path to Anna. "I am so disappointed. You had such promise." Lifting his hand, he didn't even touch Dean as he started to choke him, and then me.

I fell to my knees watching as his eyes moved to Lizzie, but nothing happened. She stayed standing, watching him, and after a moment his eyes went wide with wonder as he realised he could do nothing to her.

"Pick on someone your own size. Asshole." Lifting her hand, Lizzie sent Alastair flying across the room.

Both Dean and I looked to our friend, confused. Last time we saw her, she'd barely been strong enough to take on Samhain with my help, but now she could throw someone like Alastair around? That it begged the question... what the hell happened in the last month?

Before anyone could question her, a voice caught everyone's attention.

"No!" Uriel called out.

We all turned to see Anna throwing something on the ground. Whatever it was broke, setting some kind of white glowing fog-free for a moment before it flew towards Anna and into her mouth.

"Shut your eyes. Shut your eyes!" she yelled as she began to glow. "Shut your eyes!"

I looked away a moment before I heard her yell out, which was then followed by a loud explosion.

When everything calmed, I opened my eyes and turned to where she'd been standing. But she was no longer there. Neither was Alastair... Instead, all that was left of him was Ruby's knife.

Everyone stood looking around, some afraid- Castiel and Uriel- while the rest of us were just confused.

"Well, what are you guys waiting for?" Dean asked the angels. "Aren't you gonna go get Anna." He shrugged at them. "Unless, of course, you're scared."

"This isn't over." Uriel reached for Dean.

Lizzie stepped in front of my brother protectively, the same moment Castiel grabbed Uriel's shoulder to pull him back.

Dean kept his attention on Uriel, showing no fear what so ever. "Oh, it looks over to me, junk-less."

With nothing left to say, both angels disappeared. The moment they were gone, Ruby hobbled over to us. Limping and panting.

"You okay?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "Not so much."

Stepping forward, Lizzie wrapped an arm around Ruby, helping to keep her up. "Don't worry, we'll get you fixed up." She smiled at the demon.

"What took you so long to get here?" Dean question, drawing both girls' eyes to him.

Ruby sighed, only a little annoyed. "Sorry I'm late with the demon delivery. I was only being tortured."

"I got to hand it to you, Sammy." Dean turned to smile at me, proud. "Bringing them all together all at once. Angels and demons. It was a damn good plan."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well, when you got Godzilla and Mothra on your ass, best to get out of their way and let them fight."

"Yeah, now you're just bragging."

"So, I guess she's some big-time angel now, huh?" I noted, thinking about Anna and where she might be. What she might be doing. "She must be happy... wherever she is."

Dean just gave a short shake of his head. "I doubt it."

EPOV

"Liz." I jumped at the sound of Dean's voice as he came up from behind me.

We were back at Bobby's, just the guys and me. We'd come back here so they could grab some supplies and then head off again. I was back here with the intention of staying. It's not like I didn't enjoy being with the brothers again, but I just wasn't sure if hunting with them full time was the best thing for me.

I'd been busy cleaning up the study when Dean had come in. Sam was upstairs, packing the rest of his things he'd left here last night. That meant Dean and I were alone.

"Dean." A nervous smile played on my lips. "What's up?"

"I want you to come with us."

"Wow." I chuckled lightly. "Straight to the point, then."

"Look," he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I know I freaked you out. I know you think I'm gonna hate you because of what you can do. But I won't. I know better now. What you do, it's not bad. I mean, it's not good," he pointed out. "But it's not bad."

"Are you telling me you can handle the fact I set things on fire and can exorcise demons with my mind?"

It was his turn to chuckle lightly. "No. I'm not telling you that. What I'm saying is... it may take a while, but maybe one day I will be able to handle it." He shrugged. "If it means you come hunt with us again, then I'll work on it."

Looking up at him, our eyes locked. I tried to search for any lies or uncertainties in his gaze. I trusted Dean, but I wasn't sure how much. I wasn't sure if I trusted him to simply watch my stuff. Or if I trusted him to watch my back. Things just weren't that simple anymore.

But there was one thing that hadn't changed. I loved hunting. It was my life. Ever since Tristan and I started dating, I hadn't been doing as much as I used to… as much as I wanted to.

So maybe going with the brothers... maybe it would be a good thing for me. I could keep my distance while hunting. It would distract me while Tristan was gone. It would keep me busy. I loved being busy...

"Okay." I nodded. "I'm in."

DPOV

Sam, Liz and I had left Bobby's a few hours ago. We were parked on the side of the road now, the three of us enjoying a beer each as we watched a storm pass up ahead. Sam and Liz sat on Baby's hood while I leaned against it.

"I can't believe we made it out of there," I noted, my mind on this morning's events.

"Again," Sam added.

I held out my beer to the two of them, the three of our drinks clinking together in cheers. Together, there didn't seem to be a lot we couldn't do. Whether it be dealing with normal monster crap, or big bad angels and demons. Speaking of which.

"I know you heard him."

"Who?" Sam asked.

Liz nodded. "What exactly did we hear, and from whom did we hear it?"

"Alastair," I answered. "What he said... about how I had promise."

Sam gave a short nod. "I heard him."

"You're not curious?"

"Dean, I'm damn curious. And I won't speak for her, but I'm pretty sure Lizzie is too."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but he's right. I am curious," she commented.

Going on, Sam said, "But you're not talking about Hell, and we're not pushing."

I nodded, looking away from them, thinking about it. The fact they weren't going to demand answers. They weren't going to press me for information. They were willing to live in the dark, just so I wouldn't have to go through it all again... knowing all of that, it made me want to tell them. So I did.

"It wasn't four months, you know."

"What?"

"It was four months up here, but down there... I don't know. Time's different," I explained. "It was more like forty years." I took a deep breath. "They, uh... they sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you-" I stopped myself, shaking my head. "Until there was nothing left. And then, suddenly... I would be whole again. Like magic. Just so they could start in all over.

"And Alastair, at the end of every day... everyone... he would come over. And he would make me an offer. To take me off the rack, if I put souls on. If I started the torturing. And every day, I told him to stick it where the sun shines. For thirty years, I told him." My voice cracked as tears formed in my eyes. "But then I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't." Unable to help it, I began to cry. "And I got off that rack. God help me, I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls." A tear rolled down my cheek. "The- the things that I did to them."

"Dean..." Sam cleared his throat from behind me. "Dean, look, you held out for thirty years. That's longer than anyone would have."

"How I feel..." My voice shook as I looked at the ground, still crying, feeling all the pain and guilt. "This... inside me... I wish I couldn't feel anything. I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing."

A set of arms wrapped around me then. Tight and comforting. Just holding me as I stood there crying. Liz didn't let me go until she was sure I wasn't going to fall to pieces right in front of them.

Bamby

[swinterr]

Valerie IV

Valerie has been gone for 3 days and her family and Anwar are worrying.

They think that Valerie run away for some reason. But the truth is that Valerie is just chilling on her beach house without a care in the world.

Anwar was woken up by Yolanda, her mom, knocking in his room door continuously.

“Anwar! Anwar!” Yolanda continues to yell behind the door

Anwar groans and use a pillow to cover his ears to avoid his mother’s voice intruding him in his deep slumber.

“Anwar! Valerie is missing! Get the fuck up!”

That’s the time when Anwar start calling everybody.

He called his sisters, then Bella and Gigi starts calling everybody who knows Valerie.

Anwar even called Shawn.

Shawn is sitting on the couch inside his tour bus, strumming his guitar. Beside him is Connor and Brian playing Xbox.

As Shawn changes the position of his fingers his phone rings off.

Incoming call: Hailey Baldwin

Huh? that’s weird, they never really talked after their pr. Why she calling me? Shawn though

“Uh hello? Is this Shawn Mendes?” her soft voice fills the air, but not as soft as Valerie’s.

Shawn holds his guitar on his lap as his other hand holds the phone.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Bella called, Bella Hadid oh and Gigi called. You know them right?” the connection is a little weak so shawn’s having a hard time understanding plus the guys are are basically screaming at each other right now.

“Uh yeah. Wait a second.” Shawn mumbled as he sets his guitar down the couch, he prepares himself to scream at the guys.

He covers the speaker and shout. “Dude! Shut the fuck up!”

“Are you okay?” Hailey laughs as she hears guys complaining in the background.

“Anyways Valerie’s missing. The girls asked me to ask you if you know where she is.”

Shawn can feel the guys looking at him, he felt his world stopped spinning.

Anyway Shawn started calling everyone he knew who has connections with Valerie.

Basically that day was so stressful that even Andrew had to call Valerie’s parents to asked what’s happening.

-

Meanwhile Valerie had the best three days of her life.

She literally made the best decision of buying the house, although it’s expensive as heck.

Her house has a rooftop, with an helicopter parking in it. All she has to buy now is the actual helicopter. All that she can say is that her house is a dream. A gym, a pool, a library, a game room, a cinema room. Everything, she even have her own bar where she store her alcoholic drinks she stole from her dad.

On the first day she just watched movies on her laptop, ate fruits, went to the gym did some yoga. And on the afternoon she went sunbathing on the rooftop, she drove a boat and went fishing— in which she ate what she caught for dinner.

The second day is a chill day, she went to the gym at the morning and yoga at night. She spent almost her day sitting in the massage chair she brought. That’s all.

The third day— her last day she went jogging on the highway which is still her property, she thought that she the road is a little bit dark and sad. So she thought the next day when she will come back to Bel Air she will order bunch of lamp post, trees— specifically palm trees and other plants also, she will hire people to take care of her house at the same time will plant and will take care of her trees and plants.

Valerie now is packing her things, just her bag. She already did her laundry and decided to leave her clothes there in case if she come backs or something.

Valerie loaded her things on her car and zoomed off.

Before she goes she checked if she locked all the doors and the gates.

The car ride is interesting, she saw some paps on her way to Bel Air. Hoping that can glimpse at her and their family mansion which they kept private.

-

Its been a week since Valerie returned home from her mini vacation in Malibu.

Valerie and her dad hade some “serious talk” about what’s happening with her these past few days.

Eventually her dad, Virgo, figured out that her daughter and Shawn broke up.

Plus he said that ever since that dinner back in Toronto Valerie has been acting off and mostly sad. Virgo is worried about his angel’s mental health he says he missed the old Valerie, thus he ask Valerie to seek the help of a therapist which Valerie agreed too.

Her dad’s friend, Léon, also her godfather died because of depression. Although her case isn’t that deep. Virgo wanted her to be safe, also for him mental health is more important than physical health.

Few weeks later Shawn is in Oakland. Valerie had literally 4 sessions every week and after every session she does photoshoot and video campaigns for different brands.

Those sessions really helped him in forgetting their shared memories slowly.

That went pretty well. Today Valerie is getting ready for the ribbon cutting in Los Angeles for their hotel.

“You know what Val, I think you should quit studying and become a model.” Kayla, her make up artist slash hairstylist said as she blend Valerie’s blush out.

Her makeup is simple, glowy and natural except for her lips. Her team insisted that she should do a dark redish purple lip.

“Yeah you literally look like a Victoria’s Secret model.” Adrian, her stylists agrees.

Valerie’s looking beautiful as ever.

Adrian is currently zipping up Valerie’s dress while Kayla is touching up Val’s make up.

Valerie is rockin a black strapless beaded gown from Naeem Khan and a black and a black platform sandals from Malone Souliers.

Valerie is basically a model now, so she gotta serve looks, she gotta look stunning in every angle.

They are in Bel Air, in Valerie’s parents house.

“I don’t know I mean I would do it but I love learning.” Valerie shrugs.

“And besides, I’m not confident enough for that.”

“Girls?” a knock on the door interrupt them

They all stop what they’re doing and looked at the door.

“The car is waiting.”

-

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” Vernon greeted Brian and Connor.

Connor and Brian walked inside the hotel, with the maids giving them juice because Connor is still underage. Connor eyes widen when he saw the interior of the Valentin’s newly opened hotel while Brian just smirked.

“Hi I’m Vernon, I’m Val’s older brother.” Vernon approach the two while carrying baby Laslo in his right toned arm.

“Vernon! I brought my friend here, his name is Connor.” Brian introduced Connor to Vernon.

Vernon and Brian knew each other. They met last year at Valerie’s Birthday.

“Ahhh Connor, Shawn Mendes’ videographer?” Vernon shook Connor’s hands, he knew Connor through Val, she mention that he studies in UCLA just like him but he graduated already.

Laslo squirmed in his dad arms and extending his arm towards Brian. Wanting to be carried by him so Brian carried him, Brian extended his arms and carried Laslo.

Connor and Brian bodies stiffen when he mention Shawn, as a friend of Shawn of course they are embarrassed by his action.

“Where’s the kid?” Connor didn’t knew what to do so he looked at Brian, Brian eyes widen, he didn’t know where even Shawn is.

“Uhhh I don’t really know, he’s working on s project.” Brian awkwardly laugh.

“He better be, I’m gon—” Brian and Connor are mentally thanking Milo for cutting of his dad for saying something.

“Hi! I’m Laslo, I got my tooth of yesterday. The tooth fairy gave my $50.” Laslo proudly shows his missing bottom tooth to Connor.

Connor is about to answer when Viviane walked towards them.

Connor knew Valerie has two sibling. Valerie is hella attractive but he didn’t knew that even her siblings are attractive too. They look like greek gods and goddesses.

“Vernon dad’s looking for you.” Viviane look stunning, she looked like a model. She approached the group and once again Laslo is squirming in Brian’s arms, he wants Viviane to carry him.

“Brian! Nice to see you again.” Viviane smiled and hug Brian.

“Hi I’m Viviane Valentin, Valerie older sister. Nice to meet you.” Viviane hugged Connor.

“Go to the 23rd floor, Valerie’s waiting for you there.”

Viviane and Vernon walked to their parent but Vernon stopped and looked at them and said. “Tell Shawn he better be careful. Valerie is to precious to be cheated on.”

Connor eyes is practically shaking. Valerie and Viviane share the same personality with their Mom, except Valerie is more softer and Vernon and His Dad share the same personality except Vernon is more harsh and tougher like but he look soft.

“I’m literally dying when Val brother asked Shawn.” Chugged his juice down, his throat feels dry after their encounter with the Valentin’s.

The two are finally alone and can finally talk openly.

“I know! My armpits are sweating” Brian fanned his armpits.

“Dude, Valerie’s sibling are attractive! Have you seen her sister, her sister’s hot. Also I never knew Val was this rich!” Connor runs his finger through his hair.

“The first time I met her was when she was staying at her aunt’s house because I thought they don’t have no house but they are renovating their fucking mansion!” Valerie stayed at her aunt Veronica when their mansion is renovated, that’s when she met Shawn, Aunt Veronica’s house is directly to the Mendes’ Household and Brian’s house is just around the block.

“Dude Harvard is fee is around like $44,000 she rich rich!”

While the two are on their way to their designated floor they kept on talking about Val’s family wealth. Brian mostly keeps on talking to be honest because he known Val for years. He told Connor about them having private jets, mansion and other stuff that mostly billionaires can afford.

When Connor and Brian entered Valerie’s room they saw her crying on the bed with her laptop on.

“Valerie I miss youu but why are you crying?” the two lads run up to Valerie’s bed and hug her.

“I just got a modeling gig!” Valerie cried, Valerie has always been the sensitive type. When she’s hurt or happy she always cried. Shawn always calls her cry baby when they were younger until now.

“Really? That’s good but why do you need to cry?” Connor is confused.

Valerie models when it’s summer. She rarely do gigs when uni is starting.

“Yeah you should be proud!” Brian added.

“I know but it’s too much, I don’t think I can do it.”

“What brands are they anyway.”

“Um, Gucci, Burberry, YSL and Maybelline, Adidas, Calvin Klein, Moschino, Stuart Weitzman and also oh my god Chanel contacted me!”

“What!! 9 brands that’s crazy!” Connor started jumping and so does Brian.

-

Taglist:

@night-girls-world

@alinashawn

@feliciaceciliamariajacobsson

@clarissahunter

heyy i haven’t updated for a while hehehe. you guys still read this? if you do i love you, a lot has happened this past few months hehe

[pettyelves]

our Fallback to freedom

With the foresight of a literal blind man, and Eilithe too eager to leave the leagues of relatives behind-- neither of the couple had thought to bring their weapons, a change of clothes, coins, not even a stolen bottle from the party. 

Not that they weren’t already sloshed by the time they landed in Pandaria, nearly an hour’s flight from Dead Sun. When they landed, he had told her they could see what the local inn keeper had-- or they could steal from a local farmer. 

This brought an eruption of chuckling as Eilithe realized that all she had on her was a silver cigarette case and matching light, tucked up under her left breast in her dress. 

It was much to Eilithe’s suspicion that Kurel volunteered himself to be the one that would ..hunt the chicken, leaving her to rip and tie her dress in a way that would make her very expensive bride’s maid gown into an unfashionable romper. They went to work-- and she’d suggested to quickly snap the chicken’s neck. Which he had-- mostly done, though not to perfection as the chickens clucked and flapped enough to rouse the farmer. 

Before she knew what happened, she watched Kurel-- knees to chest, haul-assing from the back of the farm a soon-to-be-dead chicken jerking around in his massive hands. She had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh. 

Eilithe made her escape without such hang ups-- which, thought she did not say so aloud, meant she thought herself the better thief of the two. They rendezvoused some distance from the farm laughing at the whole thing. 

No one could say they never had fun together. 

"You know I bough' this farm with all the intention of retirin' to it. Tried to give i' away half a dozen times when all thin's didn't go as I'd planned. Come in handy havin' a time or three."

One of which times was some three or four years before, when he had hidden Eilonwy away there.And when the threat had passed, he had taken Eilithe to the house to be reunited with her daughter-- who, at some point not long after had grown into his daughter too.

"Now that I can't picture-- Kur'elnth An'diel, retired to a farm to live out the rest of his days. Old man chopping wood for his hearth, wiping his brow and listening to naught but the shift of goats and wind through rows of corn. No, I can't imagine being where your life might have stopped." Her fingers curled on his hip once more, "Guess my plan was no better-- nor was it anymore realistic."

He would have defended that plan with every breath he had left in him- -and Eilithe might’ve bought it if he wasn’t choking on chuckles while he did it.  "Ou' with i' then. Wha' was your unrealistic retiremen' ?" He asked her with a nudge.

It took her time to work the courage to really answer the question. After all, this conversation would only loop around in a circle they’d been going in for a long time now. 

"For the longest time I wasn't going to retire, I was terribly afflicted with wanderlust as my grandmother calls it. So when I was of age, myself and my ..eventual first mate took jobs in our order that allowed us to leave. And we'd split up for a few centuries, come back together and so on." She paused her digression. "I don't think it was until I first was pregnant, which was.. mmm.. thirty or so years ago now, that the idea of retiring crossed my mind. And that unrealistic retirement was being someone's wife, which I think is why Flithune and I ended up parting and never joining again. A mother, with a house-- somewhere back near my home village. Doing as my mother did before everything." She looked off at nothing, recollecting, "Then I was voted into leadership and that retirement got further, then closer at other times, then further again."

"Wife is jus' a title.  Like... Queen an' Criminal." He licked his lips. "While you are far from retired. You are a mother. With far more than a house an' while Dead Sun ain't necessarily your home village. It is yours. I think you've been connin' us all livin' retiremen' for a' leas' a decade."

"Never wanted to lead the village," she said with a chuckle-- it was a longing for simplicity and freedom that she did not possess. At the risk of breaking down to arguing, she followed with a soft retort. 

"A Queen, an Arbiter-- will, so long as she holds the title be looked to for answers, for protection, for counsel-- and she will always be held, a hand higher and admired for her title. It is the same way, a Captain-- if he is trusted, if he makes his men richer,  will always sit in the cabin-- he will always be looked to for the next move, he will always be, in part, feared as much as he is respected." She wet her lips, "A wife is much the same-- regarded as above all lovers, concubines, whatevers that came before her. She is given the title of wife because, in a bay of choices, she was chosen. And to call her wife means that for her husband, there can be no other. And for her? There is no other. She is his end-all, as he is hers."

He never answered with anything-- which meant that he likely understood, now, why his name beside hers made so much a difference to her. They didn’t linger long in that quiet before they were walking up the steps and into the Museum of Dust and Kurel An’Diel’s Shit™

It was simple, as he’d planned his retirement to be. No magical lighting, no running water, and a wood burning stove. Everything was covered in dust as it had been three years since anyone had set foot inside.  

A coat of arms, photographs, boxes and a books--his treasures. Among them was a golden chastity belt, enchanted-- and Eilithe learned some very long time ago that Kurel had earned the belt by way of marrying the woman who’d been locked away it in. Despite the fact that the woman symbolized the tradition Eilithe was so cross with, she found the story hilarious and snorted when she saw the prize mounted on the wall. She snorted more he he suggested they ought replicate the design and sell them to Noble Lords who’d protect their daughters from ending up in Eilithe’s brothel, or in the arms of men like Kurel. 

"Fucking men like you is good for a woman," she said, leaning into him more. "Maybe not the first time--then again, a rough first time does wonders for durability too." She cleared her throat, "Either or, really-- effect is the same. She learns a strong man from a weak one with men like you."

“Men like me.” He invited her to explain the meaning without so much as uttering more than those three words. 

"Men like you" she repeated, reaching to grab his free hand with a free hand while the other held her propped up. "Men with rough hands," she said, drawing his palm to her lips-- where she kissed, with soft lips, each of his fingers before she guided the hand from her cheek, down her long neck, to be abandoned to its own desire to travel her form. "Hands that chop wood, and pull ropes. Hands that swing swords with force enough to strike sparks against steel of their enemies. Hands that guide, or punish, or please. Hands which can be gentle on the small of woman's back, as easily as they can squeeze the last breath from a grown man.Dangerous men, with ambition. Hard men, immovable and unconquerable." 

His hand always flinched on her throat, and he listened with distinct attention before he stole a kiss and made suggestion that the broken vanity in their home ought be included in a museum alongside the chastity belt with a sign that read  Keep Off. Extremely Unstable. Fuck At Your Own Risk. And Eilithe returned that she would make use of their vanity until it was broken into pieces, at which time she said: “I'll frame the pieces and hang it in my madame's office with a plaque that reads None fuck harder than An'Diels."

When no wall nor surface did not have a swipe of one of their hands, on imprint of their backs in the dusted surface-- when they had managed to crack the vanity in the lofted bedroom the same as they had the one at home. Only then did she find a few moment’s sleep. 

At dawn, her hands held a single on of his, tracing every line with delicacy she’d not shown in the hours before. When he stirred his fingers curled with he’s passing over each digit on her left hand until he could slide a thumb over the scarab beetle between her first and second knuckle.

“This hasn't been here." He said quietly.

“No, it hasn’t.” 

There came silent resignation there, over the name An’Diel. It was not an outright victory, nor was Eilithe likely any closer to hearing a quiet confirmation for her to take what she wanted. But it was confirmation.

 This was not going away for him. 

They spent the rest of the day distracting one another. From cooking and cleaning up their fallback, from worries that were only a stretch across the ocean, and from designs that there was anything more in the world than the two of them.

[ @kurel-andiel @deadsunharbor ]

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (84/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[13 May 234 Before Age.  Planet Saiya.]

In spite of a lifetime of hardships and tragedies, Zatte was an optimist at heart.  

Her people, the Dorluns, lived by a survivalist ethic, shunning conflict and unnecessary risk wherever possible, but Zatte viewed danger as a healthy motivator.  Her home colony had been destroyed, but she still lived, and she could still make a difference in the universe.   She had lost her right eye in that catastrophe, but she still had her left.   The vile Makyans had twisted her mind and turned her into an agent of evil, but she had learned valuable skills during that ordeal, and now she was free to use those skills for what was right.  Her wife was a warrior of immense power and mercurial temperament, but Zatte believed her to be an instrument of Providence itself.  

It was this belief that brought Zatte to the Planet Saiya, where she found herself in charge of a manhunt for a mysterious killer.  Most Dorluns would have avoided Saiya simply because its people were brutal killers themselves.  Anything able to hunt them down must have been an even greater threat, and yet Zatte had placed herself in the middle of this conflict.  

"Don't see why you'd stick your neck out over a situation like this, Blue Woman," said a Saiyan man whose face seemed to be frozen in a perpetual sneer.  He dropped a pile of papers and computer tablets onto Zatte's desk.   "But it's not up to me, and if King Rehval wants you to handle this, I'll play along."

Zatte looked up at her and smiled pleasantly.   "Thanks, Wakam," she said.  "I'll try not to bother you any more today."

Wakam didn't seem to like Zatte very much, but he was easier to deal with than the rest of Finule's staff, and so Zatte usually called on him whenever she needed access to records.  She would have contacted Finule herself, but she hadn't seen the spindly security head since their first meeting three days ago.  Zatte assumed she was busy with other duties.

What Wakam didn't know was that the killer was a Dorlun, like Zatte, and so she felt a personal obligation to track down the murderer, if only to learn how and why he had gone rogue.  Furthermore, she believed that her wife Luffa was important to the grand design of the universe.  The reason Dorluns struggled to survive was so that they could  find and support such sacred people and things when they appeared.   Zatte had convinced Luffa to return to her homeworld and reconcile with her people for just that reason.   It seemed to her that if a Saiyan was destined to shape the course of history in some way, it would be best if she had the support of her own species.  Helping Luffa rescue the Saiyans from a dangerous enemy seemed like a good way to make that happen.    

Zatte was no detective, but she didn't need to be.  The enemy used a toxin derived from Dorlun proteins to kill his victims, including the last alien investigator Rehval had brought in to solve the case.  The plan was that if Zatte took over the investigation, the killer would try the same thing on her, except Zatte was immune to the toxin, and probably strong enough to defeat the killer in a fair fight.  So as long as she kept up appearances and seemed to be hunting the killer, that would be enough to bait the trap.  

However, Zatte wasn't the type to just sit and wait.  She didn't know how to fake an investigation any more than she knew how to do a real one, so it seemed to her that the most convincing performance would be a genuine effort.  She immersed herself in the work, relying on the same dedication she had applied to her career as a soldier.  She would find the answers she needed, eventually.

Six hours later, a small chirp came from her handheld communicator, reminding her of the alarm she had set.  

"Nineteen hundred hours already?" she asked, double-checking the clock on the wall.  She felt like she had only just started.  For a moment, she was tempted to keep working and make up some excuse, but she decided against it.   As much as she hated to stop now, she wanted to be there for what happened next.  

*******

"You're late."

"Sorry, I got sidetracked, and the dress took longer to put on than I expected."  Zatte held up her hands, which were covered in green gloves that went up past her elbows.  "Honestly, these gloves gave me more trouble than the hoop skirt."

"You look good," Luffa said.  Like Zatte, she was dressed in an elaborate gown of similar fashion, though hers was a pale yellow, with a  square neckline that exposed an old scar on Luffa's clavicle that was one of Zatte's personal favorites.  When she stepped closer, Zatte could tell from the sound of her footsteps that she was still wearing her usual combat boots beneath the voluminous skirt.  

"You too," Zatte said.   "Does King Rehval just keep a bunch of dresses handy for guests?"

"Apparently," Luffa said with a shrug.  "He said something about 'smart fabric' that adjusts itself to fit without tailoring, but I didn't pay much attention."

The ball had been underway for half an hour, and so the other guests paid little attention to Zatte's arrival, or to Luffa when she went to greet her.  On most planets, Luffa tended to draw a lot of attention, even when she wasn't using her Super Saiyan form, but among her own kind she was just another face in the crowd.   Her savage countenance and warrior physique were the norm on Planet Saiya.  Together, they paced around the edge of the ballroom, watching various dignitaries dance.   Whenever a waiter walked by with hors d'oeuvres, Luffa would flag them down and take some.  

"Any luck on your end?" Luffa asked.  

"Some," Zatte replied.  "I'm trying to work out how our 'friend' arranged transportation to the planet.  There's a good chance he stole a ship, and might be using it as a base of operations."

"What makes you say that?" Luffa asked.  

"It's what I would do," Zatte said.  "You keep saying I'm the strongest of my kind, but I'm still struggling with the higher gravity of this planet, which means our 'friend' probably has it even worse than I do.  He must have some way to deal with it while he stalks his victims, but I bet he's using artificial gravity units wherever he sleeps."

"You're doing great, by the way," Luffa said.  "That dress is barely slowing you down at all."      

Zatte was doing terribly, in point of fact.  The dress felt like it was made of lead, but the weight of it wouldn't have been so bad except for the fact that it was so big.  The gown went all the way down to the floor, covering an area at least three feet in diameter, which made it difficult to maneuver.  Her muscles were already stiff and sore just from wearing her usual clothing to get around on the planet, but the dress threatened to push her past the point of exhaustion.   Nonetheless, Luffa's praise, and the proud smile that went with it, made it all worthwhile.

"What's the deal with these events, anyway?" Zatte said.   "I never pictured Saiyans holding formal dances.   Rehval's more cosmopolitan than most Saiyans, sure, but he just held one of these a few days ago, right?"

"It's just a way for him to show off," Luffa said.  "Or maybe he just really likes balls."

She started to laugh at her own joke, loudly enough that several of the other guests began to look at her with annoyance.  Zatte smiled awkwardly and waited for Luffa to settle down.  She'd noticed that Luffa was more provocative on Saiya than she'd been anywhere else.  Zatte recalled a formal dinner on a Federation planet where Luffa had been downright shy and reserved.  Her manners were never ideal, but she always respected the occasion and the host in her own way.  Here, she seemed to be begging someone to confront her, confident that no one would.

"There you are, Zatte!  I was afraid you wouldn't be able to make it, but I see now why Luffa is in such a good mood."

They turned to find King Rehval walking towards them, the crowd of guests stepping aside to clear the way.  As usual, he was dressed in a well-tailored suit, although this one seemed even more formal than the ones he normally wore.  It reminded Zatte of the tuxedo she had worn to her wedding, although the Saiyan king's was adorned with badges and ribbons on the breast, and the fabric was a royal blue instead of black.  

Luffa eyed him skeptically, but she didn't seem as hostile towards him as she had been before.   Zatte hoped that this was a good sign.   Their plan to flush out the killer depended on the two of them getting along.  She had come to this ball to play peacemaker if necessary.

"Your Majesty," Zatte said with a respectful nod.  Zatte was prepared to show greater respect to Rehval, but she held back out of consideration for Luffa's disdain for the Saiyan monarchy.  She wasn't sure either of them cared how she greeted the king, but she was determined not to exacerbate the tension between them.

"I trust you're settling into your new position," Rehval said as he returned the nod.  

"Very well, Sire," she said.  "Your staff has been very helpful.  Especially Wakam."

"Which is a very nice way of saying she's the least difficult of the bunch," Rehval replied.  "Please bear with them, Zatte.  I've managed to adapt Saiyans to a number of non-combat jobs, but administration is a challenge for the best of us."  

"No, really," Zatte said.  "I found them to be very professional." She glanced toward Luffa and added: "But I'm used to dealing with difficult Saiyans by now."

Luffa smirked at that, and Zatte was pleased to see that Rehval enjoyed her remark as well.  That was the key.  Get them on the same page.  Build some common ground.  If Luffa could get along with the king, then his subjects wouldn't be far behind.  

"You have my respect, Zatte," Rehval said.  "I respect any alien with the courage to wed a Saiyan, but you...!  Well, now that I’ve seen Luffa's transformed state for myself... well, I--"

He was speechless after that.  Zatte had felt the massive ki energy from their sparring match, so none of this was a surprise to her.   "So how'd he do?" Zatte asked Luffa.

"Well enough," Luffa said.  "With the two of us working together, I think we can locate our 'friend'."

"You never know," Zatte said.  "I might track him down first."

"Is that a challenge, Zatte?" Rehval asked, having finally found his voice.  

"Just a little extra motivation," Zatte said.  She'd learned a long time ago that Luffa was a sucker for competition.   Naturally, this applied to fighting and training, but it also extended to ordinary things like household chores, footrubs, medical examinations, and so on.  The funny thing was that Luffa was fully aware of this, yet she let herself be manipulated anyway.   If you could turn it into a game, Luffa would play.   And from the look on Rehval's face, the same was true for him as well.

"Would either of you care to dance?" Rehval suddenly asked.  

When neither woman responded, he waved his hand to the open area behind him, where several couples were shuffling along the floor.  

"I came over to ask you, Luffa, since you're the guest of honor tonight," he said, but since Zatte is here, I'll defer to her.  I'm sure your species has some interesting techniques."

Zatte smiled and tried not to think about how much her feet hurt already.  "I'll be honest, Sire, I'm still not used to the gravity here.   It'll be a while before I can move well enough for dancing."

"Of course.  How thoughtless of me.   Another time then."

"Sure," Zatte said.   "Why don't you and Luffa go ahead?"

Luffa looked at her as if Zatte had suggested she eat her own tail.  "Me?" she asked.  

"Why not?" Zatte asked.  

"Because I can't dance," Luffa said.

"You did fine at our wedding," Zatte said.  

"Because I hovered an inch off the ground and let you push me like a shuffleboard disc," Luffa said.

"Well let King Rehval do that, then," Zatte said.  "Or let him show you some moves.  You've always said you wanted to learn."

Luffa looked at him and bit her lower lip.  For his part, Rehval seemed quite pleased with Zatte's suggestion.  

"I'd be honored to teach what little I know," Rehval said.  "Though I'm sure before long, you'll be giving me lessons, Luffa."

"I don't... I mean... My wife wouldn't..."

"Yes she would, because it's my idea!" Zatte insisted.  "Have fun.   I'll be watching from someplace where there's a chair."

Luffa hesitated, and when she finally did follow Rehval onto the dance floor, she kept looking back at Zatte like a prisoner being led to execution.  But Luffa did go along, and that was the important thing.  

Zatte waved to her, then began plotting how to sit down in a hoop skirt.  It was probably a lost cause.   Rehval might not have cared if she damaged the dress, but Zatte liked it enough to want to keep it in tact.   Her feet would just have to hold out a while longer.  

Besides, she would have had difficulty watching Luffa from a sitting position.   A crowd had formed around them as they moved across the floor.   Zatte wasn't too surprised, given their celebrity.  Most of the guests were elite Saiyans and diplomats from planets with close ties to the Saiyan kingdom.   All of them were curious to know who the Super Saiyan was and how King Rehval planned to deal with her.   Everyone on the planet must have sensed the titanic energies released during their sparring match.   It was important to show them that the two most powerful Saiyans had more in mind than just beating each other's brains out.  They could get along.  They could work together.   They could achieve great things.  

As Rehval predicted, Luffa's movements on the floor were awkward and unsteady at first, but she adapted quickly.   Zatte doubted that Luffa would become an expert anytime soon, but this was social dancing, after all.  No one in the hall was especially skilled at this either.  

The important thing was that things were going well, and Luffa even seemed to be enjoying herself towards the end.  Zatte's feet ached, but she smiled in spite of them.  She would have worn a thousand leaden dresses to see this.

*******

Finule had been invited to Rehval's ball, but she didn't bother going.  The king held many formal events, and he issued perfunctory invitations to most of the higher ranking officials in his administration.  She had gone to a few when she first arrived on Planet Saiya, but quickly learned that she hated the whole experience, and that attendance was neither mandatory nor important to advancing her career.  So she stopped going, and no one seemed to miss her.

Instead, she returned to her homestead on the other side of the planet.  There, she had a simple house and a rudimentary garden.  Most importantly, she had her garage, where she spent all her free time tinkering with her car.  It was a hobby she had picked up while living in the Atoyot Sector.  Motor vehicles were useless to someone like her who could fly, but she was fascinated with the mechanical aspects, and found it relaxing to study the intricacies of the engine.  As far as she knew, no other Saiyans had any interest in fixing up motor vehicles, and that suited her just fine.  She preferred the solitude her garage afforded her.

But as she lay beneath the car and worked, she found that she couldn't quite let go of the stresses of the workday.  Having a regular job was strange enough for her, but it might have been tolerable if she wasn't working for such fools.

She despised King Rehval.  Finule had come to Planet Saiya because she had heard good things about the prosperity and stability of the Saiyan Kingdom, and because she envied other species she had encountered who were able to live among their own kind.  But she found the king's governance to be a joke.  He had tried to combine Saiyan customs with alien statecraft and ended up with the worst of each.

She had tried not to speak out against the regime too much, but it was difficult not to let her frustration slip from time to time.  Saiyans weren't known for exercising discretion.  Between that, the Saiyan-killer crisis, and the Legendary Super Saiyan's visit, it was a wonder she hadn't had a nervous breakdown.

Finule had heard rumors that the Super Saiyan might overthrow Rehval, but she'd also heard rumors that Luffa was working for him.  That the Super Saiyan had been on the planet for several days seemed to prove that she wasn't here for a coup.  Finule wasn't entirely surprised.  If the Super Saiyan wanted the throne she could have taken it a long time ago.  And there was no guarantee that Luffa’s rule would be an improvement.

At last, she decided that working on her car wasn't helping her mood, and so she decided the best thing to do was to take it out for a drive.  Finule wasn't very experienced with actually driving her car, but that didn't matter much on Planet Saiya, where one could travel for hundreds of miles without encountering a soul.  She would just pick up the car, fly it to a salt flat she had used in the past, and joyride until she ran out of fuel.

The vehicle weighed four tons on the planet of manufacture, but under Planet Saiya's higher gravity, that weight was multiplied to forty tons.  This was more than Finule could lift, and enough to crush the car under its own weight, but she had installed artifical-gravity units from an old spacecraft, which reduced its weight to what it was designed for.  Carefully, she tilted the car sideways until she could get under it and rest it on her back.  It was then that she noticed it felt a little heavier than usual in the rear.

Setting the car down, she checked the trunk, and recoiled in horror when she saw the dead body inside.

Judging by the uniform he wore, it was an senior officer in the Saiyan Royal Army.  His tail had been removed, but otherwise there was no obvious sign of a wound.

Finule forced herself to calm down, and resigned herself to her fate.  She would have to inform the authorities.  Rehval's investigator and General Ratijio and whoever else.  Someone would probably want to impound her vehicle as evidence.

She sighed and muttered obscenities to herself as she searched for her communicator.

*******

Hours later, Zatte was in her cabin aboard the Emerald Eye.   The lighter gravity aboard Luffa's star-yacht was a tremendous relief, but she took the extra measure of changing into her pajamas and putting on some music.   She had resumed her research into the killer's victims, planning to work until she was relaxed enough to sleep.   But once she got underway, she forgot about her bed altogether.  

"Didn't think you'd still be up," Luffa said as she entered the cabin.  

"Hey," Zatte said without turning around from her desk.  "Trouble sleeping?"

Luffa climbed into the bed and sighed.  "Maybe we need to rethink our plan."

"What's wrong?" Zatte asked.  

"I just don't know about Rehval," Luffa said.  "Maybe it'd be better if I tried to handle it without him."

Zatte shook her head.   "You were the one who told me you needed help," she said.  "Do you think you can do it alone?"

"No, but..."

"You two seemed to get along okay tonight," Zatte said.

"Sorry about that," Luffa said.  

"About what?" Zatte asked.  "Learning how to dance?"

"You really didn't mind?" Luffa asked.  "I mean, I know you want us to work together, but he had his hands on me the whole time."

"Luffa, that's how dancing works," Zatte said.  "It's not like he was grabbing your butt the whole time."

"He kissed me," Luffa said.  

"Yeah?"

"Not tonight, I mean, yesterday, when we sparred," Luffa said.  "I gave him a free shot, just to see what he'd do, and--"

Zatte turned around and her eyes went wide.  "You're kidding!" she said with a laugh.   "Oh, I wish I'd been there to see the look on your face."

"You're not mad?" Luffa asked.  

"Why would I be?" Zatte asked.  "Dorluns kiss each other all the time.  I never tried to win a fight that way, but I guess you Saiyans have to weaponize everything..."

Luffa could be surprisingly fragile sometimes.   So much was riding on their efforts here, and yet Luffa still found time to worry about their relationship.  It was sweet, in a dopey sort of way.  

At one time, they would have resolved this by using Luffa's telepathic power to link their minds, and Zatte would have shown her that she trusted her implicitly.   Dorluns viewed marriage as a sacred trust, and not something so easily shattered by a kiss or a dance with an outsider.  Jealousy was a distraction, and Zatte refused to let it interfere with her work.  

But telepathic reassurances had caused more problems than it had solved in their marriage, and they had agreed to stop using it as a crutch.    What was needed was honest, open communication, and understanding.  

"Listen," Zatte said.  "He's an unusual guy, but I've seen his type before.  He's trying to show off how familiar he is with other cultures, including ones that are more affectionate and touchy-feely than the Saiyans.  And he's probably trying to rattle you a little.  You want my advice?"

"Yeah," Luffa said.  

"Give it right back to him," she said.  "Show him it doesn't get to you."

"Are you serious?!" Luffa asked.  

"Absolutely," Zatte said.  "I mean, don't do it if you don't want to, but if he's trying to mess with you, it'll show him you're impervious to his charms."

"You're sure you're okay with this?" Luffa asked.  

Zatte turned back to her desk and waved her hand.  "Of course!" she said.  "There's lives at stake, and we need King Rehval's help.   Everything else is a distraction until we get this settled.  After this is all over, we'll look back on it and laugh."

With that, she returned to her work, hoping to let Luffa get some peace and quiet.   It frustrated Zatte that she couldn't do more to help her wife sleep better.   Sometimes Luffa did better sleeping alone in the gym, and other times she felt more at ease in Zatte's cabin, and sometimes nothing seemed to calm her.   Normally, she would have lain down beside her and held her for a while, but she couldn't spare the time.  If there was even a chance that the spaceport logs could shed some light on the killer's whereabouts, then she owed it to Luffa to keep going.   Maybe the answer would be in the next file, or the next, or the one after that...

An hour later, she head Luffa get up from the bed and excuse herself as she went back to her usual sleeping spot in the gymnasium. 

Twenty minutes after that, Zatte finally noticed she had left.  

*******

[14 May 234 Before Age.  Planet Saiya.]

"Nice view," Luffa said.

"You really have a talent for understatement," Rehval said.  "Most people, when they see holovids of my villa, are awestruck.  They go on about the rolling plains, the way the sunrise highlights the classical architecture of the manor.  One visitor actually complimented that fence in the foreground.  'Rustic charm,' I think he said."

Luffa stared down at the holographic fence and shrugged.  "Looks halfway sturdy, I guess."

"Well, if that's the best compliment I can get out of the mighty Luffa, I'll take it," Rehval said.

The two of them had spent all morning practicing Luffa's technique and discussing ways to improve up on it.   At last, Rehval insisted they stop for brunch at his palace.   After a leisurely meal, he began to show her around the residential suites, where he kept many of his most treasured possessions.   The villa was on another planet, however, and so Rehval had to settle for a holographic projector that could display the estate in miniature.

"What do you expect, Rehval?" Luffa asked.  "I'm a Saiyan.  What do I care about landscaping?"

"I've shown this to other Saiyans, and they appreciated it," Rehval countered.

"They were just kissing your ass, then," Luffa grumbled.  "I hope you didn't promote them for it."

"I'm a Saiyan, and I appreciate the look of the place," Rehval said.

"Because it's yours," Luffa said.  "And you're a weird one anyway.    What kind of Saiyan owns a villa?"

"The same kind that owns a yacht?" Rehval replied.

"It's transportation," Luffa said.

"And so is this," Rehval said as he gestured to the hologram.  "I'm the king of the Saiyans, and leading Saiyans is a difficult job in the best of times.  The villa is a place I can go to refresh myself.  To prepare for the challenges that lie ahead.  It's an escape.  Maybe it's fancier and more luxurious than it needs to be, but I have to project an air of authority, don't I?"

Luffa had nothing to say to that, other than a disinterested grunt.

"I thought your wife would be joining us," Rehval said.

"She's busy with the investigation," Luffa said.

"So are we," Rehval said.  "That's why I scheduled a break.    Her people need rest too, don't they?"

"The ones I've known were all very diligent," Luffa said.  "And she's more driven than most.  She's determined to see this through."

"Almost Saiyan, in that respect," Rehval said.

"You'd think that," Luffa said.  "Sometimes it’s easy to think of her as a blue Saiyan with red hair, but every once in a while I remember how... cold she can be."

"I take it she doesn't like to fight," Rehval said, anticipating Luffa's complaint.

"Oh, she's good at it," Luffa said.  "You should see her in action.  She just--"

"She's not as into it as you'd like her to be," Rehval said.  "I hear the same thing from a lot of my subjects who married aliens."

"We make it work," Luffa said as she crossed her arms.

"Naturally," he said.  "She's a remarkable woman."

"Glad you approve," Luffa said.

"I envy her," Rehval added.

Luffa stared at him.  "What are you--?"

"Oh, come on, Luffa," Rehval said.  "Am I supposed to be embarrassed to admit that I'm attracted to you?  You already found that out when you read my mind."

She blushed.  "Yeah, but... Well, that's still no reason to go say it out loud!"

"Why not?" he asked with a carefree grin.

She couldn't believe he was asking this.   She had scoured his mind to make certain that he wasn't an enemy, only to find that he had a crush on her instead.  It was the telepathic equivalent of walking in on someone while they were using the restroom.  She had planned to ignore it, and pretend that she hadn't touched that part of his mind.   This was to spare him the embarrassment, but apparently he didn't see the point.  “Why not?”  .

"Because you're just humiliating yourself!" Luffa protested.  "Where's your Saiyan pride?"

He laughed.  "I'm the king, Luffa.  I'm the strongest Saiyan alive-- Sorry, force of habit.   I'm the second strongest.  Why should I be ashamed of my own feelings?"

She didn't have an answer.  "I didn't mean to expose your secrets," she said.  "I only read your mind to see if you were telling me the truth about your father."

"I know," he said.  "And I told you I had nothing to hide from you.  I was telling the truth about that, too."

She turned away from him.  "Why would you want me to know that?" she asked.

"Because I'm not ashamed of my emotions," he said.  "Other Saiyans might see it as a vulnerability, but I don't.  Honestly, I'm surprised you have the same attitude."

She shook her head.  "I'm married," she insisted.

"I know," he said.  "I don't expect you to reciprocate, Luffa.  It's just one of those things."

He approached her and placed his hands on her shoulders.  "I hope we'll be allies in the future, hopefully good friends, but I'll always think of you as the one the got away.  It's the truth, so why hide from it?"

She didn't respond at first.  Then, just as he removed his hands, she spun around and grabbed him by his hair.  Before he could even register what was happening, she pressed her lips against his, and channeled a current of ki energy across their kiss.  He convulsed in her arms, and then she shoved him away.  Rehval managed one step backward before he collapsed on the ground.  Thin trails of smoke wafted up from his hair and eyebrows.

"Don't get the wrong idea," Luffa said.  "I just wanted to try out that technique you used on me the other day.  What do you think?"

Rehval looked up at her as he struggled to catch his breath.  "I... I'd say you've mastered it," he gasped.

"Good," Luffa said.  "Now we're even.  I think we've lounged around her long enough.  Let's get back to work."

She took off into the sky, not bothering to wait for Rehval to follow. 

Had she bothered to look back at him, she might have noticed a satisfied smile on his lips...

NEXT: Ambivalence

[theartificialdane]

Galactica, part 223

In this the V list writes again, Courtney get’s in trouble, Max considers, Bianca is struggling, Laila tries again and Violet has had enough.

Thank you to @veronicasanders @toriibelledarling and @samrull <3 You’re amazing <3

Bianca stirred, sliding her hands to Courtney’s side of the bed, a wave of disappointment hitting her when she felt the empty sheets. She sighed and rolled over. She’d been hoping, it being her birthday, and since they’d been up so late the night before, that Courtney would forego the early morning run for this ONE day so that they could have a nice, lazy morning together. Oh well. She covered her face with the pillow.

***

“Biaaaanca…” a soft voice crooned, hands gently tugging at the covers.

Bianca opened her eyes to see Courtney snuggled up beside her, a tray of food next to them on the bed. The smell of fresh coffee and bacon in the air. She smiled lazily, kissing Courtney on the mouth.

“Happy Birthday…” said the blonde. “Hungry?”

“For you? Always.” Bianca pulled Courtney closer, kissing her again, tasting her lips.

Courtney giggled and pushed her away. “No, I made you breakfast, and I didn’t even burn anything! AND I touched bacon. Is that love or what?” Courtney reached over and picked up the fork, lifting a mouthful of fluffy scrambled eggs to Bianca’s mouth.

Bianca took a bite obediently, settling back against the pillows. “I thought you went out running,” she said, running her fingers through Courtney’s hair.

“On your birthday? No. Unless you count running to the corner for pastries.” Courtney smiled and continued to feed her while Bianca’s hands roamed all over her body. “Does it taste okay?”

Bianca nodded, pulling her closer by the hips, accepting a sip from the cup of coffee Courtney held to her lips. She nuzzled Courtney’s neck as she set the coffee back down. “I love you.”

“Me too, B…” Courtney’s hands cupped Bianca’s face, tilting her chin up, stroking her cheeks. When dimples appeared beneath her fingers, Courtney smiled back, and reached over towards the nightstand, pulling open a drawer handing Bianca a small, wrapped box. “Happy birthday.”

“Baby. You didn’t have to buy me anything. You did the whole weekend away, and--”

Courtney silenced her with a kiss. “Just open it.”

Bianca unwrapped the package carefully.

“Careful, B, a tiny bit of paper got ripped in the corner,” Courtney teased.

“Hey, I didn’t get rich wasting wrapping paper,” Bianca laughed. She opened the jewelry box to reveal a copper cuff bracelet covered in opal and amethyst.

Courtney fingered her hair nervously. “That’s...those are our birthstones. Raven made fun of me for the idea, she said it was cheesy, but she ended up helping me at the jewelry designer...Do you like it?”

Bianca looked up at her. “I love it.”

“Really? It’s okay if you don’t, I--”

“Come here…” Bianca pulled her close. “This is the best birthday I have ever had. You know why?”

“This warmer than average autumn weather we’re having?” Courtney fluttered her lashes.

Bianca closed her eyes and rested her head on Courtney’s chest, listening to her pounding heartbeat. “Yeah, that’s it. The fucking weather.”

Courtney laughed and snuggled in tightly, laying her cheek on top of Bianca’s head.

***

Hey V-Listers! So, looks like Li’l Courtney Act had a big ol’ debutante ball for her first album yesterday (which, btw, we are going to fully review in detail once it comes out), and I think we should have a little slideshow to discuss some of the fashion, eh?

Let’s start with the ever-mysterious Ms. Violet Chachki, who is always so elusive on the red carpet. We managed to find a shot where she’s semi-facing the cameras, and check out the stunning ensemble! Violet, why not strut on carpets more often? She looks positively beautiful - Grace Kelly with a modern twist. If this kid continues to allow us to occasionally photograph her, we could be looking at one of the most important style icons of her generation. She’s classic, edgy, vintage and ahead of the trend at the same time, with not a hair out of place. 10/10!

On the other hand, here’s Courtney, who often has tragically questionable taste. (Remember the - gulp - sparkly jelly platforms she wore all summer? #yikes) Tonight though, we will hand it to her, she looks great. From the new haircut, to the red lip, to the simple black dress and thigh-high boots, it almost looks like our baby is all growed up. Awwww…

(BDR, please don’t break up with her just because she doesn’t look 16 tonight, okay? We kind of like her. We can’t wait to listen to some queer pop music, either. Even if it sucks, we know the videos will be hot, so, we’re on board.)

OMG, so...have you guys heard that Broadway star/philanthropist/former alcoholic disaster Jinkx Monsoon is in some kind of delicious little sapphic Trifecta with Adore Delano, the punk princess herself (and the baby sister of BDR, one of Jinkx’s good friends - knowing B, they’ve slept together over the years, so this is just super incestuous) AND Alaska Honard, Galactica’s Lead Makeup Artist and SVP of their makeup line??? (Alaska has been under the radar for the last few years, but you may remember her from her last relationship with Broadway producer and professional pain in the ass, Sharon Needles.)

So these three, god bless them, are like our own little Charlie’s Angels come to life! You’ve got Alaska, the smart, sexy blonde in the center there, in her chic teal wrap dress and black frame glasses. There’s the stunning redhead, fresh from her Evita performance, in a slitted gown, cinched for the gods, about a zillion dollars worth of diamonds, and you know, just a casual fur shrug. Now, we’re really happy for Jinkx and all her success and clean living etc etc etc. But we do have to admit that we miss the hot mess who used to entertain us by passing out in gutters with her dresses around her waist.

Which brings us to Adore. First of all, Adore, nice eye makeup. Second, maybe you’re like to be introduced to this amazing new device called a HAIR BRUSH? Third, what the actual fuck is happening with your CLOTHES, GURL??? It looks like she robbed a gang of 90s B-girls and then stole ALL their clothes. Like she’s homeless and wearing EVERYTHING she owns. Plus like 4 flannels around her waist. We only approve if this ridiculous ensemble is accompanied by even more ridiculous behavior. So either start your downward spiral, stat, or step up your fashion game, Adore. Because you rolling with some classy bitches now.

Last but certainly not least, here’s Raja Amrull and Miss Fame of Galactica. Both of them look gorgeous as usual. Raja is in a stunning minidress and killer boots - WE NEED THESE IMMEDIATELY. Fame even seems to be getting into the spirit of the event, with some sexy leather pants that accentuate her feminine assets quite well, and an open-weave sweater that comes dangerously close to showing off some other assets. But even more interesting than their sartorial choices for the evening is the fact that their partners are both suspiciously absent. And both of them are looking a little glassy-eyed and cuddling awwwwwful close, doncha think? I mean not to start rumors but we’re just saying…*

That’s all for now, kiddos! Talk to you soon!!

Kisses, V

*We are saying that they are possibly fucking each other, in case that wasn’t clear. Feel free to discuss…

***

“How do you pleasure a woman?”

Katya looked up, the handful of popcorn almost dropping out as her mouth hung open. Her and Max had been watching TV, Katya absentmindedly rocking Ivan on her legs, her feet up on the coffee table, Ivan with her since Trixie was out getting groceries, Ivan going through bananas like a machine.

“What?” Katya couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Had Max, Max Malaphany, asked her about sex? She knew he had been getting more and more serious with Ruby, the redhead a near permanent fixture in the apartment’s kitchen whenever Max wasn’t working, and even when Max was working she was still always there. Katya had heard Max talk and chitter, chat and laugh in the middle of the night when Ivan couldn’t sleep, Max showing Katya the google hangout setup he had made for him and Ruby so she could see what he was working on whenever she had her computer open. “Max... Are you asking me how to pleasure a woman sexually?”

Max looked uncomfortable, his cheeks red, the man staring at the TV, even though Katya knew that he wasn’t the least bit interested in how Ted Mosby once again failed in getting Robin to love him. “Would it be wrong if I did?”

“No, no, oh my god no!” Katya sat up, Ivan going on her arm as she looked at her friend. “I’m not complaining, I’m just not sure why you’ve chosen to ask me?”

“You’re a woman, right?” Max smiled, and Katya felt her heartbeat slow down a little.

“I am, but I just…” Katya reached out with her foot and turned the TV off, Max turning his head so they looked at each other. “Why not ask Trixie? Or even Pearl for that matter. They have more sex with woman than I do.”

“Yes.” Max scratched his cheek, his ears going red too. “But I’m asking you.”

“Do you want to have sex?” Katya gently bounced Ivan, the little boy babbling, his hand in his mouth and Katya briefly considered if it was right to have a conversation like that with her infant son on her hip. “I mean, you’ve never really-”

“Seemed interested?”

“Yes.”

Max smiled, the man reaching out to take Ivan from Katya who had attacked the popcorn bowl, the two falling into conversation, his ears still red as they talked.

***

Bianca was sitting with Dan, going over some layout boards, when Joslyn rushed in. “Bianca? Detox Sanderson is on the phone for you. He says it’s urgent.”

“He always says that. Tell him to go fuck himself, I’ll call him back later.”

Joslyn left and then re-appeared a few moments later. “Um. He says it’s really, really urgent. It’s about Courtney. He said ‘someone is trying to fuck with your girl and you need to get old school on their ass.’”

Bianca’s head snapped up. She lifted the receiver. “This better not be a cry wolf situation, De.” She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and waved Dan and Joslyn away, mouthing “We’re done.”

“It’s not. I saw the pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“Some dude emailed us. He’s got nude pictures of Courtney. He’s trying to sell them. He came here and the guys kicked it up to me because of how much money he wants. Obviously he sent us censored versions but they’re legit. It’s definitely her.”

“Fuck! Who is this asshole?!”

“I don’t know. Some guy she went to college with? I told him we need an hour. I suggest you get the label to buy the pictures and squash it.”

“How much does he want?”

“Fifty grand.”

“That’s nothing.”

“I know. Have fun destroying his life.”

“Forward me the little twat’s info, okay?”

“Sure.”

“And De?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For looking out.”

“Of course. I have a teenage daughter, too, you know.”

“You know, I was trying to say something nice, you fuckhead,” Bianca said, as Detox laughed on the other end of the line, hanging up. “Asshole.”

***

“Laila! Come on!” Pearl smiled brightly. They were in Max’s studio, Pearl’s hair around her head in a dutch braid, her face bare and freshly washed.

“I’m coming, I’m coming okay, just because you’re not wearing makeup doesn’t mean I’m not.” Laila called from Max’s small bathroom, making the photographer who was eating a banana smile as he looked at Pearl.

“Give her time.”

“I’m sorry, I just want to get started.” Pearl blew a bit of hair away from her face, before she sat down on a chair. It was early morning, and Pearl was technically supposed to be downstairs at her department, but Pearl had always been fearless in the face of danger, and had given the command of the morning to Laganja, the social media department focusing their time on following what the autumn fashion was right now, Pearl having spent days on the street’s documenting what the New Yorkers were wearing.

“Okay, I’m here!” Laila smiled, and Pearl felt her heart skip a beat. Laila was beautiful, her girlfriend's newly colored hair a vibrant purple, and Pearl smiled. Her Laila was back, not completely of course, Laila still having days where she could barely get out of bed, days where she couldn’t eat anything, no matter what Pearl tempted her with, but here she was, her Laila, her girl. Laila found her makeup case as Max sent up his camera, making sure everything was centered, and Pearl felt giddy with anticipation.

Laila looked at Pearl, the woman holding a brush, a small smile on her face. “Are you ready?” Pearl nodded, leaning forward, their lips meeting in a brief, sweet kiss before Max started the camera and Laila turned around.

“Hi everyone, I’m Laila McQueen, and this is my halloween makeup tutorials, modeled by my lovely girlfriend, Pearl Liaison.”

***

“I’ll pay it myself!” Bianca screeched into the phone.

“It’s not that simple, B. The label obviously wants them out. They want the publicity. Courtney already signed the waiver saying she was okay with it.”

“She did WHAT?!”

“Yeah, the label asked her to sign, just to protect them. So they’re gonna let the Enquirer deal happen, but they’ll hold the story until Wednesday after the album drops, then of course they will issue a press release about how horrified they are, poor little baby pop star being taken advantage of by a bitter ex. They’ll have her speak to girls about protecting themselves and whatever. They literally just sent me a 20 page media plan about it.”

“And Courtney AGREED to this? What the fuck, she didn’t even call me.”

“Well, you’re not her mother, Bianca.”

“What if I offer to double the money?” Her voice rose with panic.

“That would make you an insane person. Five Gs...Good god, get a grip, girl.”

“Fuck.”

“Listen, she’s not the first singer to have nude photos out. They aren’t gratuitous. Just...seriously. Let it go, hon.”

***

Violet fought with her key, finally getting the door to Sutan’s apartment open, her stomach tight with worry as she rushed Frida and herself inside. She was late, later than usual, and she felt horrible, but she had been caught up at work, the designs for Marie Claire taking all of her time.

“Sutan? Are you here? I bought pizza like you asked!”

Violet toed off her shoes, balancing the cardboard box as she unclicked Frida’s leash, Frida racing inside to get to Sutan, the little dog so excited to see her daddy. “Sutan? Sutan, are you in the shower?” Violet walked into the livingroom, jacket still on, her other hand holding onto the tote bags she had brought along, Sutan’s halloween costume in it. Violet put down the pizza, looking around as Frida came back, the pup whining, the little creature almost running in circle as she whimpered.

“Sutan! I’m serious, where are you?” Violet sat down, gently running her hand over Frida, the pup nibbling on her fingers. Violet took out her phone and dialed Sutan’s number, her stomach hurting slightly, the ever familiar knot collecting there as she waited for Sutan to pick up the phone.

“Violet?”

“Hi, Sutan, where are you? I’m at your apartment and no one’s here...”

“You’re at my place?”

“... Yes? We were suppose to meet up for dinner...” Violet bit her lip.

"Oh right, I was there but you were late, so I had to go.”

“You had to go? But I’m here now?” Violet couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She hadn’t been that late, or, if she was honest it was close to 30 minutes, but it wasn't the worst she had ever done. “We have to try the costu-”

"Listen I'm on my way uptown. I know it sucks, that I’m not home for dinner, I know, but can't you just order something? I’ll pay for it."

“... What?”

“You knew I had to go out tonight, it’s been part of the deal all along, I’ll be home some time later tonight.”

Violet didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, her throat totally closed up.

"Listen love, just send me a picture of the receipt, okay? We can talk tomorrow.”

“I…”

"Tomorrow, okay baby? You were late after all, but don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine. I love you, and I'm serious, anything you want."

Sutan hung up before Violet had a chance to answer, the girl slowly removing her phone from her ear, the screen laughing at her since the call had barely taken two minutes, and Violet felt slightly sick, the smell of the pizza on the table, the pizza Sutan wanted, making her nauseous. His stupid pizza with chicken, food Violet didn’t want at all, food she didn’t care about or for and that she had only gotten because Sutan asked for it, stupid, egoistic Sutan. Violet picked the pizza up, stomped into the kitchen and threw it directly into the trash, the cardboard fighting her as she forced it into the trashcan, the hot sauce burning her, but the physical pain was nothing against the storm of emotions and the rage instead her. Violet slammed the trash can shut, and went to bed.

***

Bianca burst through the front door, throwing down her briefcase, finding Courtney in the kitchen, still sweaty from a rehearsal, casually making dinner with her family.

“Hey, B!” she said with a chipper expression. “Hope you’re hungry! Mum’s making her famous veggie nut loaf.”

Bianca stood in the kitchen doorway, unsure of how to respond. “Courtney. What did the label ask you to sign today?” she asked quietly.

“Oh, just this form saying that I wouldn’t sue them if nude pictures got into the tabloids. Apparently someone from my college is trying to make a quick buck off a bunch of pictures I sent to an old boyfriend. Mum, is this enough garlic?”

“Yes, love. Can you check the potatoes? I want to start mashing them”

“Sure!” Courtney skipped over to the stove.

“Courtney, how are you being so casual about this?!”

“Well, what good does it do to stress over it, B? I mean, I sent photos like that to more than one person...let’s just say it’s one of my go-to moves. Sorry, mum.”

Annette shrugged. “You’re a big girl.”

“So what if they stop these pictures? They wouldn’t be able to stop all of them. At least there’s a plan. They think it could even boost sales of my album.”

Bianca looked around the kitchen incredulously. Her blood was boiling. Gil casually chopped cucumber for a big salad, and Ben took a pan of roasted veggies from the oven to let it cool on the counter. No one seemed the slightest bit bothered by the situation at hand.

“Does ANYONE see a fucking problem here?! Gil! This is your daughter!”

“It’s just some tits, Bianca. Have a drink.” Gil gestured to the open bottle of wine on the counter. “They aren’t even very big ones, anyway.”

Ben snickered. “Yeah, what are you, Court, an A cup?”

“I’m a B cup, dickhead.”

“Yeah, right, keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m sorry, love,” said Annette. “It’s my fault, you have my build. But they’re nice, even though they’re small.”

“I have triple D’s,” Ben bragged.

“Good on ya, son!” Gil slapped Ben on the back.

Courtney scoffed. “You always have to be the favorite, don’t you?”

Bianca clenched her fists. “Now I know why England expelled you guys. You’re a bunch of goddamn deviants.”

Courtney laughed. “Yeah, we were way too fun and sexy for the British. They threw us right out.”

Bianca sighed. “I need to lie down.”

***

Bianca curled on her side, a pillow covering her face. She felt hands sliding around her waist. “Hi,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Are you really upset about this nude picture thing?” Courtney asked.

“I’m...I’m confused why you’re NOT upset.”

“I don’t see the big deal. I took the pictures. Well. Actually,” Courtney laughed. “Most likely, Morgan or Tati took the pictures. Or--”

“Don’t fucking say Adore.”

“Sorry.”

“Jesus, Courtney.”

“I’m sorry!”

Bianca sighed, staring at the ceiling.

“Madonna has that whole book of nude photos. You still like her, right?”

“Those were taken by Steven Meisel. And it was still considered porn and people fucking raked her over the coals for it.”

Courtney cupped Bianca’s face in her hands. “So...you’re worried about my career?”

“No. I’m just...I’m a petty, possessive asshole who doesn’t want anyone else to get to see you the way I get to see you.” Bianca wrapped Courtney into an embrace. “You’re supposed to be mine. All mine.”

Courtney smiled, kissing her lightly. “Aww, babe…”

Bianca buried her face in Courtney’s neck.

Courtney nuzzled her hair. “Guess you better get over that, huh?”

“I don’t wanna,” Bianca whimpered.

“B, look at me. So there are a few pictures out there. But no one will ever see me the way you do. Because I’m never gonna look at anyone the way I look at you.” Courtney gripped Bianca’s shoulders, touching their foreheads together.

Bianca wrapped her arms tighter around Courtney’s waist. “Promise?”

“I promise. Now, come on, let’s go have some dinner.”

“Vegan nut loaf sounds horrifying, by the way.”

“It’s really good, I swear. There’s mushroom gravy.”

“Oh, well, then sign me up!”

Courtney giggled as Bianca lifted her up from the bed and started to carry her down the hall.