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softsebnbuckystan · 4 years ago

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Soul ties - Part 8 (Bucky Barnes au)

“No, I don't wanna know, Where you been or where you're goin'

But I know I won't be home, And you'll be on your own”

Maniac by Michael Sembello was blasting from Wanda's room as she was going through her closet, looking for something you could wear at the party. You were tapping your feet to the beat and shaking your head softly.

"This is perfect," Wanda said as she handed you jean shorts and a T-shirt. Finding something in your style had been hard, but the outfit turned out really cute on you. "And before you ask, I still have your plaid shirt if you want to wear that."

Your sister knew you too well ; or maybe it was just her ability to read minds. You were pretty sure it was a mix of both. You looked at your watch : five in the afternoon were already passed and you knew Nat was supposed to arrive soon, so you went to the kitchen after changing. Actually, she was already there.

"Nat!"

"Happy birthday, girl! How do you feel about hitting thirty, huh?"

"Surprisingly good, to be honest," you answered as you hug her tight. "I'm glad you came by."

"Me too. Steve told me pretty interesting news about some guy." She wiggled her brows, making you raise yours.

"Not that interesting. Yes, he is my supposed soulmate, but I got married last week, not matter how that's turning out."

"Yeah, sorry I couldn't be there, by the way. However, if I trust Steve's words..."

"Don't? Please." You smiled, making her laugh. You really must've sounded desperate, or in denial – or, once again, both.

"Fine. But I can't promise I'll hold back my thoughts."

"I know you won't," you joked. "Anyway, is the cake already here?" You asked Sam.

"No, Bucky's not back yet."

"Oh, alright. I thought since he left early..."

"He had stuff to do, apparently." He shrugged, showing he didn't know any more than you did. A smirk appeared on his face. "Miss him already?"

"Ugh, I hate you all."

"No, you don't!"

Everyone around you laughed and, frankly, you couldn't hold it in either. These people always had a way of making you forget about your problems, and Darren hadn't crossed your mind until now. Hours went by and more people arrived at the compound. It wasn't supposed to be a big party, but Tony was obviously unable to resist to Peter Parker asking if he could tag along. This kid loved being around here, maybe as much as you did. Once eight hours rang, almost everyone was there, except for Bucky. You were sure he'd eventually show up, even though you couldn't help but feel a little anxious while everyone shared champagne bottles.

"Alright, close your eyes," Sam said, dragging you out of your thoughts. He put his hands on your eyes as you giggled softly.

"What is it now, you asked?"

"Patience, lady."

You couldn't see anything – obviously – but you soon heard voices around you singing you a happy birthday. When Sam removed his hands, your eyes took some time to adjust to the sparkling candles on the big birthday cake. More importantly, it took you a second to recognise the man carrying it. Where had his hair gone?

"Your hair," you whispered once he was close enough.

He shrugged. "C'mon, the candles will melt if you don't blow them out." His own smile quickly spread to your face as you blew out your thirty candles. Everyone applauded and Bucky started cutting it so that people could help themselves. Once seated next to him, you took a bite of your own piece and closed your eyes in delight.

"Raspberries. I love those."

"Yeah, Wanda said it was your favourite," he told you before eating a chunk of cake. "How do you like the party so far?"

"I love it. Everyone I love is here, so I couldn't be happier, really." You didn't even think about what you were saying. Tony's champagne did that to you for sure.

"Everyone?"

"Of course, why do you ask?" You gave him a confused look before it dawned on you. "Oh, I know. Well if he's not here by now, I guess that means something."

"Well I'm not the one saying it. It's your night, anyway, so let's not talk about him and let you have fun." He gently poked your arm – you felt delighted, as it was him who'd made the move this time. It felt as if he was becoming more comfortable around you : you'd noticed he'd been laughing with you a lot more frequently these last few days.

"So, why the new haircut?"

"I wanted some change. New me, old me, I guess." He took a sip of his beer.

"I like it. Can I have some?" You pointed at the bottle. He gladly handed it to you ; damn, this man did not know what one beer might do to you, especially after champagne.

Wanda spotted you from across the room and stopped walking towards you, interrupting her conversation with Scott Lang.

"I hope that's your first drink tonight," she said with a grin. "You don't want to expose your party demon now, do you?"

You chuckled at Bucky's scared eyes. "I'm taking this back," he said, taking his beer back and finishing it.

"Don't worry, Bucky. I'm fine. I'm just a little more outgoing when I drink, that is all."

A screeching sound made you turn your head : Steve had just plugged a microphone into the speakers.

"Alright, so, as you all know, tonight's Y/n's thirtieth birthday. For the occasion, I'm sure she'll gladly treat us to a speech now."

If looks could kill, Steve would've died on the spot, super soldier or not. You never had inspiration for that kind of stuff.

"C'mon guys, she needs some encouragement," Sam chimed in.

Tony and Peter both whoo'ed at you with huge smiles, and you had no other choice than going on that improvised stage which consisted of the space between the speakers. You took the microphone from Steve's hand and Nat handed you a beer.

"Oh my, thanks for that," you said, chuckling. "I want to thank you all for coming. You might have known me for a while, or not, but hum...you guys are family. I couldn't be happier to celebrate thirty years on Earth with you." You raised your bottle in front of you. "To found family."

Everyone drank to that, and you jumped as Sam placed his hand on your shoulder and started speaking in another mic.

"So many emotions there, I love to see it. Now we're not done with you. Remember that night in Brooklyn?"

"Oh no."

"Oh, yeah... we're gonna do it. And you're gonna love it, don't you dare say otherwise."

You stared at Sam before downing your drink. He was damn right.

"Okay Scott, fire away!"

"Toniiight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time..." Sam started singing this fabulous bop as the music soared in the air. You obviously joined him right away.

"I'm burning through the skyyyyy, yeah." You probably were not singing right, but you couldn't have cared less. Everyone around you was singing – more like yelling – along and you finally let go of your last inhibitions. You were singing and dancing, pretending you were the international rock star giving a representation. For once, you saw a wide smile on Bucky's face that couldn't seem to go away, and you decided to have fun with him a little. You pointed at him and smiled as you basically jumped to the beat.

"I'm a sex machine ready to reload like an atom bomb about to oh, oh, oh, oh exploooode!"

He couldn't help but laugh and he even started tapping his feet to the beat as well. You went back to Sam and you ended the song back to back, definitely yelling more than you were actually singing.

"See, I told you you'd love it!" he exclaimed.

You laughed out loud before handing the mic to Scott. "You have fun now, I gotta rest for a sec."

You happily got back to Wanda and Bucky as Scott and Sam were joined by Peter to keep this improvised karaoke going. Your sister was less than surprised, since this wasn't the first party she had with you. Bucky, on the other hand...

"I didn't know you could do that," he said with a grin.

"What, absolutely slay the day with a mic in my hand? Hell yeah I can, only after some drinks though."

"Yeah, I don't know if your cheeks are this red from drinks, dancing or just regular blush."

You chuckled at his laugh, even placing your hand on his shoulder while doing so. When your eyes were done squinting from all the laughs, you froze.

"Darren, I-"

"That science guy let me in."

Bruce shot you a sorry look, raising his hands in the air. "He wouldn't let me ask you for your opinion first anyway."

Damn, you hadn't realised how much everyone disliked your husband. After all, no one had ever been rude to his face, unlike his friends. Bucky turned around to face him and crossed his arms over his chest : his smile was long gone now, as if it had been only a fever dream.

"You put on quite a show there."

"Wow, so not even a 'happy birthday', huh?" You didn't even look down this time : you stared at him, no trace of a smile on your lips. "When I said you could come if you wanted to, I didn't say that so you could come and be condescending."

"I'm not gonna wish you a happy birthday after I saw you hit on that guy in a fucking song!" he yelled, pointing at Bucky. Darren's anger was so unjustified that you would've laughed at him, hadn't you been remotely nice and equally angry at him.

Bucky didn't say a word as he slowly put Darren's hand down. You noticed he'd used his metal arm, even though you knew for a fact he was right handed and usually prioritised his dominant hand. That was quite passive-agressive ; you held back a smile.

"Do you even hear what you're saying?" Keeping your cool was not an option anymore, and you walked away from everyone. Contrary to Darren's belief, you didn't like 'putting on a show'.

"We're going home, now," he said firmly. "Your little crisis lasted long enough."

"My crisis? You've left me alone at home for days and now you expect me to come back? You're unbelievable, Darren. And you started pulling this shit before we were even engaged!"

"You never complained about this, so why do it now?"

"Because I can't take it anymore! Is that so hard to believe? Is it hard to understand that I want to be treated the way I deserve?"

You ran a hand through your hair, looking at Darren in disbelief as the anger in his eyes just grew harder.

"You know what?" you continued. "If you have nothing better to say, I might as well just go back to the people who really love me. As far as I'm concerned, this" — you gestured at the both of you – "is over."

You turned around, feeling a huge confidence boost that still wasn't strong enough to overcome your disappointment.

"What's that on your back?" His voice was so low compared to seconds earlier that you looked back at him.

"What?"

He walked up to you fast, but too slowly not to be noticed by Steve and Bucky, who'd been watching the scene carefully. Despite their obvious strength, they couldn't get to you before Darren violently lifted the back of your t-shirt, scratching your back with his nail at the same time. You let out a cry and next thing you knew, Darren was pinned against the wall, held back by Bucky's arm.

"You lied," he whispered. "You do have a tattoo."

Damn. You had always been careful to wear high waisted jeans. All it took was one careless pair of shorts. You had no answer to give to him, so Darren looked at Bucky instead.

"It's you. Right? I fucking knew it." He looked back at you. "I should've known you weren't to be trusted around other guys. You're such a-"

"I think you should leave." Steve had laid his hand on his friend's shoulder to try and calm him down. Bucky let go of your husband and shot you a side glance to check on you. You were crossing your arms on your chest and your eyes had never been more interested in the floor.

"Steve's right," you uttered. "You should go." You walked away with these words. You hadn't even noticed there was no longer any music playing in the room. Silence was oppressing and everyone seeing you cry was not an option. You walked to your room in daze. Once you felt the door closing behind you, you allowed yourself to break down. It was a knock on the door that made you tilt your head up a few minutes later.

--- You have no idea how excited I am for part 9!!! If I wasn't strictly following my self-imposed rule of having two unpublished chapters at all times, I would post it right away. x) I hope you liked this one!! Feel free to give me any notes you may have : I improve thanks to readers.

Message me if you want to be added to the tag list (seeing it grow is making me so happy)!

Tag list :

@ginger-swag-rapunzel @joscelyn02 @coniumalces @writehistorynotthegrocerylist @bluemoon-icecream @lady-loki-ren @simplybombshell

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #james bucky barnes #self insert #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #cacw #catws #fanfiction #x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader

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blackacre13 · 4 years ago

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Anything with loubbie plus the rest of the ocean’s 8 team.

even better if its slightly au w/ oceans 8 team PLUS dannys team!🤩

love your fics so much💖💖

Thank you for the love and the suggestion! This takes that idea and more teases at a longer story (which I maybe could be convinced to expand) (just because 20 characters is a lot to write for with a prompt like this) but I hope you enjoy!!

“You have got to be shitting me,” Danny sighed. “Debs came up with this?”

“You think I would come up with this shit?” Lou snorted, sitting back in Danny’s favorite chair.

He decided not to comment on her apparent chair theft even though it bugged him for no good reason.

“Well, where is she?” Danny scoffed.

“Empire State building,” Lou rolled her eyes. “She has a flair for the dramatics if you haven’t noticed. I don’t know. I think it’s something to do with her past and this flamboyant brother of hers who does these big speeches and watches fountain shows in Vegas or—”

“Lou,” he sighed. “I get it. So, how does this work?”

“Well, Danny boy. It’s a heist. Think back to your nonsense with Nyquil Fig—”

“Night Fox,”

“Whatever,” Lou huffed. “One object. We both go after it. And there’s a clock on it. You can pick the item. Whatever you want. And you can have all your boys, eleven, thirteen, what have you. Debbie just wants the two of you to be coming from the same physical starting point. Whoever steals it, keeps it. And whoever steals it, wins.”

“And who’s pulling for Deb?”

“The Met crew.”

“So, seven.”

“Eight with myself,” Lou pointed out. “You don’t think being married gets me out of these little schemes, do you?”

“You’re starting to sound like Tess,”

This time Lou had to bite her tongue from pointing out that unlike Tess, she’d stuck around for her Ocean, but now wasn’t the time. And honestly, she would bet a good chunk of money that the fault was mostly, if not all, on Danny.

“I don’t even know what we’d steal.”

Lou sat forward and gave him a pointed look before standing, her heeled boots clicking against the floor. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. Nothing, say, like an egg.”

“One egg, Miller,” he sighed. “I’ve stolen one egg. A very important one.”

“It’s still an egg, Ocean,” Lou muttered. “You’ve got some weird ass taste.”

“You’re one to talk,” Danny grinned. “I mean, you married Deborah Ocean.”

“Jealous?” Lou winked. She made her way to the door. “Got an hour to midnight. Deb’s waiting for ya.”

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

“Alright, that’s Lou’s bike,” Tammy announced, clapping her hands together. “That means Danny’s in the loop now. We still don’t know what he wants us to go after, but I do know that he and Deb both pick their people for a reason.”

“You think we oughtta cover people who do the same kinda job as us?” Nine asked, blowing out a curl of smoke.

“Precisely,” Tammy smiled. “As best as we can, anyway. There’s less of us.”

“Because we’re better,” Daphne smirked, throwing her jacket over the couch as she entered the room. “Lou’s right behind me.”

“Ladies,” Lou saluted, clicking into the room, placing her helmet on the poker table. “What’s the plan? Pairing off?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what any of this means,” Rose sighed.

Amita sat next to her and tried to comfort her, explaining that even if she didn’t like it, there wasn’t as big a risk and it was more for fun anyway.

“Alright,” Lou clapped her hands together as she walked to the front of the room to Debbie’s usual spot, leaning against the stage. “You can guess how this is gonna go down. Deb is already in place. Obviously, if anyone is going to face off with her, it’s Danny. He should be on his way. I’m sure they’ll let it get personal and they’ll stay very behind the scenes just coaching their opposing sides and hopefully not strangling each other.”

“Oh dear,” Rose sighed, burying her head in her lap.

“Now, we told Danny he could choose what to steal but Debbie has been plotting this for a while now and she’s already planted the idea in his head. It’s going to be an art collection.”

“A painting?” Amita asked, confused.

“The whole collection,” Lou smirked. “We’ll need to strip a room at MoMA.”

“Oh, I love this,” Daphne sighed dreamily, sitting on the couch, her hand resting under her chin as she listened. “I really appreciate that we’ve made museums our stomping ground, you know?”

“Barbie, chill,” Nine begged, waving her hand at her.

“Whatcha need me to do, pops?” Constance asked, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

Lou did her best to maintain composed and ignore the questions and reactions coming from all the different women, and Constance’s sneakered feet on her table.

Tammy called them to attention and the blonde shot her a grateful look.

“Anyway, like I said. Deb will cover Danny. That leaves the hungry, hungry hippo for me.”

“Hippo?” Rose asked, putting down her needle and thread.

“Rusty,” Tammy sighed, rolling her eyes. “He’s pretty much the Lou of Danny’s operation. Wardrobe and all.”

“But Lou is so much better at what she does,” Amita interrupted. “And way more stylish.”

“Can I continue a single sentence?” Lou exhaled. The women fell silent, looking at each other. “You can all compare and contrast and whatever the hell you want, let’s just hammer this out so we can break off or Deb is gonna be pissed we’re already running behind. This should be an easy win for us. And it may help us get some favors down the line for future jobs.”

“I’ll start a list,” Tammy offered, walking towards the white board. “Deb and Danny. Lou and Rusty. Got it.”

“We don’t have a Reuben,” Lou admitted. “We fund ourselves. Same with Saul. We know how to con, we don’t have a mentor or anything. It’s just us. And I have a feeling those two will be invited but will head to the casino or racetrack together anyway and leave the work to the kids. They’re not gonna think this involves them.”

“Rose could be good to distract them,” Daphne offered.

Rose looked unconvinced and nauseated at the thought, but said nothing.

“Nine, they’ve got this hacker, Livingston. The thing they’ve got that we don’t is Basher. We have got to keep our eyes peeled for Bash and his antics.”

“Basher Tarr,” Tammy elaborated. “He’s got all these gadgets. Although, is it me or does it just always seem like his solution is to blow something up?”

“Oh, that’s sick!” Constance yelled with a grin.

“Keep Constance far away from him,” Lou sighed. “Nine and Tammy should be able to cover him between the tech and the gadgets.”

“Already have my eyes on this Livingston dude’s computer, boss,” Nine smirked.

“Unfortunately, our Yen is their Yen, so we also have to have our ear to the ground on that situation, but we can use it to our advantage. If he’s getting something done for Danny, maybe we just use his handywork for ourselves.”

“What about those twins?” Tammy wrinkled her nose.

“Virgil and Turk? Whoever gets to them, honestly. I drive for us. We don’t need much muscle.”

“And Frank?”

“Amita and Daphne can cover us on the inside. If anyone would be involved in the artworld it’s Daphne Kluger and her personal jeweler or however you want to spin it. Toss Rose in there too. You need pieces for a photoshoot or Daphne’s home or whatever. Whatever you have to spin, just work it like you would any other job.”

“You’ve gotta gimme something, dad,” Constance groaned.

“Con, we’re literally stealing art. You think we don’t want your hands on the inside at the forefront?” Lou asked, crossing her arms. “They definitely have a pairing for you. Linus Caldwell. Not much older than you. Youngest on Danny’s crew by far. He’s their pickpocket. Your competition. And he’ll probably do the main lifting on the art. You think you can handle that?”

“Fuck, yeah!” Constance laughed. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Dear, god,” Tammy sighed, smacking herself in the face with her palm.

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

“MoMA is a go,” Debbie whispered into the ear piece.

“Knew he’d take the bait, honey,” Lou smiled. “Nice work.”

“You got him all riled up and ready to take on a con while too distracted to fully focus, so right back at you, baby.” Debbie grinned.

“I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point,” Lou promised. “Let me go see what the hell Rusty is up to.”

“You think this is gonna work?” Debbie sighed.

“Yes,” Lou spoke confidently.

“You think Constance is gonna blow something up?”

“You mean, abandon her post watching to see what Linus is gonna do so she can go find Basher and ask to try out one of his explosives?” Lou sighed. “Absofuckinglutely, also yes.”

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years ago

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Brain Teasers (A Light Fingers Moment In Between)

A/N: We really run the gamut with this one, genre wise. Explains why a "Moment" in Between is longer than an average actual chapter (I did math to find out). Word Count: 3086 Rating: E(xplicit) Content Warnings: unprotected sex, public sex

“Whatcha doin?” you asked casually, entering the apartment to set down the brown paper bags in your arms.

As you turned back around to lock the door, you were surprised when Diego didn’t even look up from whatever he was hunched over at the table.

“Diego? Is everything alright?”

Concern creased your brow as you made your way over to him, groceries forgotten.

You leaned in to kiss his cheek in greeting, frown deepening when he backed away before you could. He looked up at you, eyes stormy with rage as he gestured to the papers he had been reading. Your papers.

“The mayor’s re-election gala? I thought you didn’t hit targets with people present?” he snapped.

“I don’t,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “I steal because I’m good at it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to have a little fun with it when I can. And every thief dreams of having the skill to be able to rob the rich blind of their belongings right out from under their noses, while smiling at them over a flute of champagne.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?” his voice was hesitant but still laced with anger.

“That it was a game. A brain exercise. I would never actually do it.”

You reached out again, laying your hand over one of his where it rested in a fist on the table.

“I promise, Diego. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He sighed, relaxing almost instantly, the tension dropping from his shoulders and his hand uncurling beneath your fingers. He slowly turned his palm upward, looping his fingers through yours and giving you a gentle tug forward until he could wrap you in a hug.

“I’m sorry for accusing and getting mad at you for no reason,” he muttered, cheek resting against the top of your head.

“All is forgiven. It did look admittedly sketchy.” You chuckled, looping your arms around his waist. “Make it up to me by putting away the groceries?”

He sighed.

“I think it’s more than reasonable,” you argued.

“Did any of it need to be chilled?”

“No, I don’t think so today. Why?”

“Then they can wait,” he hummed, trailing his lips against your jaw. “I’d rather make it up to you this way.”

You couldn’t resist the huff of amusement that escaped you, even as you tilted your head to give him more access to your most sensitive spots.

“This is not the solution to every problem, you know.” You teased, fingers tightening against his back as he nipped at your skin.

“Only most of them?”

“Groceries now, and you can be a teasing bastard later,” you scolded, trying to fight back a moan as he trailed his tongue over the spots he had been biting.

“Promise?”

Laughing, you shoved his shoulder lightly. He reluctantly let you go, chuckling and walking off to the kitchen to do as he was told.

You stayed where you were, looking down at the papers he’d been upset by. The plan was a diagram for a simple two man lift, mostly wallets and loose bracelets. Probably the most plausible scenario you’d ever mapped out, so you supposed you could see where his confusion lay. You wondered whether you should find some other way to do these exercises, or label them so they wouldn’t be an issue again in the future.

Fighting with Diego, even just the chance of it, made you feel like your world was off-kilter.

“You like puzzles...” he mused from the kitchen, interrupting your thoughts.

“You should know that already, Diego,” you teased, not looking up as you scooped everything into a pile.

“I do. Just...thinking out loud.”

You turned to look at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Oh? About what?”

“Nothing,” he smiled mysteriously, walking over and pressing a kiss to your cheek as you dumped the papers haphazardly in a file drawer. “Don’t worry about it. Rice or pasta for dinner?”

“I have a surprise for you,” Diego said a few days later, not long after getting home from one of his usual shifts at the gym. “But you have to find it first. Patch helped me set up a bunch of challenges for you.”

“You’re going to make me do a scavenger hunt?” You raised an eyebrow incredulously at him.

“Yes. No? Only if you want to…?” He shifted nervously, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you gave him a quick kiss and smiled.

“I love it. Now where do I start?”

Producing a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, he proudly read a riddle off to you. Tapping your thumbnail against your bottom lip, you listened intently to every word, mind already racing. Part of you was still trying to work out what Diego was up to, but most of you was focused on winning his little game.

Solving the latest of the anagram, to generate a riddle rather than a more direct instruction, you sighed, rubbing at your temples.

“Diego, honey,” you said sweetly. “Were you planning on having me play these games all night?”

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“This is the tenth puzzle. I’m having fun but...how many are there?”

“Just a few more, I promise,” he kissed your cheek before ushering you off to follow the latest ‘clue.’ “And it’ll be worth it.”

Under his breath he added an almost frustrated, “I hope” but you decided it was best not to respond, since you likely weren’t meant to hear it in the first place.

Finally, you made it to the end of Diego’s quest, and froze. All of his looping, wild goose chase steps had brought you to a quiet rooftop garden, perfectly laid out for a picnic. The borders of the secluded area were scattered with tiny candles and a few cut white roses were strewn across the large grey blanket. Somewhere, unseen among the flowers, a radio softly crooned.

Completely at a loss for words, you turned back to Diego who hovered a few steps behind you, smiling softly as he looked at you, framed in the dim lights and flowers. Invitingly, he stepped closer, hand held out with palm turned upward. As you placed yours on top of it, he closed his fingers lightly around you and wrapped his other arm around your waist.

“I know there’s a picnic to get to,” he murmured. “But I thought you might like to dance first?”

“I would love to,” you answered lightly, delicately placing your free hand on his shoulder.

Pressed close together, the pair of you swayed to the faint music and the night sounds around you. The more relaxed you became, the more naturally it came to you, as if the pair of you were one entity, and you wanted to stay there forever.

“Not that you’re not welcome to do romantic shit whenever you feel like it, but what’s all this for, Diego?” you asked eventually, quietly so that you didn’t shatter the moment.

“It’s our anniversary,” he led you in a graceful twirl so that you were tucked against his body, back to chest.

“No it’s not…” you let yourself there in his arms, gently rocking in time, for a moment before spinning back.

“Of the day we met,” his arm tightened around your waist to pull you a little closer. “Three years ago today. I tried to time it to the hour but you solved everything quicker than I thought you would.”

“You remembered that?” you stumbled a step, but he was quick to hold you up and help you find your rhythm again.

“Obviously. It was important. I knew it even then. You didn’t?”

“No? At the time I didn’t think anything of it,” you shrugged. “It was just another Wednesday.”

“You don’t remember the date,” the air rushed past as he dipped you and quickly righted you once more, “but you do remember that it was a Wednesday?”

“Sure. There’s only seven days in a week to keep track of, as opposed to 365 in a year.”

He chuckled and shook his head, slowing to a stop and gesturing to the picnic blanket, wordlessly suggesting you take a break. He had laid out some of your favorite foods on little plates, and a fancy bottle of lemonade, that if you knew him at all was probably freshly homemade by Grace, stood beside two thin-stemmed glasses.

“Diego...everything tonight has been so perfect,” you sighed, tears springing to your eyes as the pair of you settled into comfortable seated positions. “The food, the flowers, the garden. The fact that it feels like up here, we could be the only two people in the world.”

“It’s also the best place in the city to see the stars,” he offered casually, popping a chunk of fruit into his mouth.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“A couple of weeks. I had help with the execution.”

You wanted to fling yourself into his arms and shower him with kisses, but since that would have required upsetting everything he had worked so hard to put together, you refrained.

“I feel awful now that I didn’t remember and get you anything or do anything for you in return,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“Don’t. I did this because I wanted to treat you and show you how I feel. But I don’t need you to reciprocate. Just...having you here, with me. With me. It’s more than I could ask for.”

“Okay, that’s it,” you muttered and began shifting plates and bowls and the two wine (or rather lemonade) glasses off to the side.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching you with a puzzled expression.

“Clearing a path so I can do this.”

You reached across the space, closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Pressing your lips to his, you tried to channel all of your emotions into the connection. Unsurprisingly, he kissed you back, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other finding your hips to pull you flush against him. Running your tongue across his lower lip in askance, you smiled into the kiss when he opened up for you. As you mapped the details of each other with tongue and touch as if you didn’t already know them all by heart, he drifted onto his back, bringing you across his lap to straddle his hips.

“This was supposed to be romantic,” he pointed out as you both broke for air.

“It is romantic. There’s stars and candles and roses. All the hallmarks,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Unless you’d like to stop?”

“No!” his grip on your waist tightened, stopping you from your feigned movement to climb off of him. “I was just saying...”

“I was just going to kiss you and then go back to our very sweet picnic. This position was all you,” you smirked down at him.

“That’s not…” he sighed, realizing that he was, as usual, rising to your bait.

“I know,” you placed a swift, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you’re so much fun to tease, baby. Have been since day one. Although I think then I said something about you pinning me, not the other way around.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him and hummed in agreement.

“This view is so much better though. Is teasing all you plan to do, sweetheart?” His expression shifted to a smirk of his own as he rolled his hips beneath you.

“It wasn’t, but if you’re going to play dirty...it’s tempting.”

Your lips found the most sensitive point beneath his jaw and you sucked lightly on it, drawing out a groan from him. You could feel his hardening length strain against his pants, pressing against your belly as you continued to lavish attention on the spot.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Baby, please…”

“How can I say no when you beg so pretty for me like that?” you murmured against his skin.

His fingers dug into your hips as you rocked back enough to give better access. Bit by bit, you slowly, reverently undressed each other, pausing frequently to explore the exposed flesh with hands and lips. Fully bare before him, and him before you, you felt a hot blush creep across your cheeks at the way he looked up at you. There was desire in his eyes, yes, but more than that, he seemed to be staring as if you were a work of art, as if no matter how many times he’d seen you, he couldn’t believe that you were real.

Awed tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you tilted your head downward and kissed him. Your lips slotted against each other, moving in perfect pattern as his hands trailed down your spine and back up again. You trailed a finger across his cheekbone before you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, now fluttering back open.

“Ready?” you asked, a small smirk on your lips.

“For you? Always,” he answered, reaching between you and ‘accidentally’ brushing his fingers against your folds before lining himself up with your entrance.

Slowly, you sank down, sheathing him in you completely, a shuddering sigh escaping as you did. Bracing your hands against his chest, you rolled your hips experimentally, sparks of pleasure shooting through you as the motion dragged him against every sensitive inch of your core.

“God you’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently, tracing patterns across your skin as you continued to move.

Every brush of his fingers across your back and sides left a trail of fire behind. You bent your head to dust butterfly-light kisses across his chest, taking time to focus in particular on the scars you found there, mapping them. Gradually your pace increased as he began to roll his hips in time with yours, one hand holding your hip to keep you steady and the other massaging lightly at your breast.

“Diego,” you moaned, begging him for the last little push you needed to make you fall apart.

“Love the way you moan my name baby,” he purred. “Say it again. Please, baby?”

Teetering just on the edge of bliss, you complied, chanting his name like a prayer against his lips as he stretched up to kiss you again. The feel of his tongue dancing with yours and his hand tightening as his thrusts became sloppy and uneven made you cry out. He swallowed the sound hungrily, answering it with a swear as his release found him and he painted your insides with his seed. He gave a few more thrusts, bringing his free hand down to tease your clit and finally drive you over the edge, spasming around him, before he gently pulled out and you collapsed forward onto his chest, panting for breath.

“Christ, that was incredible,” you sighed.

“You always know how to make me feel so good baby,” he huffed in answer, still out of breath.

Sweaty and sated, you laid there for a while, listening to his racing heart as it slowly resumed its normal pace. Eventually, despite the warmth of the evening, your skin began to prickle with chill and you rolled off him, sorting through the pile of discarded clothing and passing his to him.

“I don’t know about you,” he said with a smirk, “but I’ve worked up an appetite now.”

You rolled your eyes, laying back down on the blanket with him and reaching lazily for the food you had set to the side.

“Typical,” you remarked in faux-disgust. “Sometimes I swear you are such a...man.”

With you comfortably tucked into his embrace, the pair of you picked at the offerings he’d packed for a while until you had your fill. Once neither of you had any interest in the food any longer, Diego laid back again, pulling you with him, finally gazing at the view of the stars he had promised you. In satisfied silence, you snuggled against him for a while.

“You said you knew us meeting was important,” you said softly, trailing a finger over the thick band of muscle in his forearm as it rested across you.

“I did.” You weren’t sure if his affirmation was of his statement or what he claimed to have known back then.

“Did you guess why? Or think we’d end up here?”

“Are you asking if it was love at first sight?” he countered, turning to look at you, warm breath fluttering your hair and tickling your ear.

You bit your lip. “I guess, yeah.”

“It wasn’t that...clear,” he said haltingly, struggling for words.

On instinct you wound your fingers through his and gave them a gentle squeeze. You stayed silent, waiting, giving him all the time he needed.

“But I think it was. Or something close.”

“Oh.”

You weren’t sure what you’d been hoping to hear, or what to say to that. It scared you, in a way, to know that he’d felt so deeply for you right from the start. It scared you to admit, to risk hurting him by doing so, that you...hadn’t. Your initial draw toward him was curiosity, for most of that first year, and you had fallen in love in little pieces, giving him your heart bit by bit until one day you looked up and realized he had all of it, and you were all the happier for it. It wasn’t love at first sight, not by any means. But something about it, even at that first meeting, was inevitable.

“Y/N?” Diego asked softly, pulling you out of your racing thoughts. “Where’d you go just now?”

“I…” you licked your lips, throat feeling dry and tongue feeling heavy, “was just thinking...about when I knew…”

“And?”

“And I don’t actually remember falling in love with you. One day I wasn’t. And then I was.”

He ducked his head, kissing your shoulder, soft lips lingering on your skin.

“That’s okay,” he murmured against your skin. “What matters is now.”

For a long time, you laid in silence, the radio still humming indistinctly, the stars twinkling overhead. Eventually you sighed.

“We should probably go home before we fall asleep here. It’s late,” you suggested.

“Hm. You’re probably right,” he hummed in agreement, though he made no move to actually do so.

“Diego?”

“I’m just enjoying the moment a little longer. Enjoy it with me?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you snuggled tighter against him. “I guess I can manage that.”

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End Note: So this fic has a flaw. In my head most of the puzzles have a visual component and/or I didn't know how to write them, so I had to gloss over them instead. Whoops.

#do I like this title? No but what else is new #transitions? never heard of her #Light Fingers #moments in between #Diego Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic #smut with feelings

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years ago

Note

I love your writing and have read through your entire blog :) hope you're doing well

Nonnie, you are a delight. Thank you, I am doing well and I really hope you had fun trawling the mess that this blog is. Here’s a little more idiocy that will hopefully be to your liking as thanks for your lovely ask.

Black Crow

There was a new witcher in town and he was really fucking annoying as far as Lambert was concerned. He had no care for the established, unspoken rules about who stuck to what territories for their contracts, ignored all the difficult contracts and took the easy ones like a selfish git. It was bad enough the he gave witchers a bad name by being lazy but people seemed to be quite enamoured with his style. All black, never showed his face, had feathers attached to some dumb helmet that hid him from view and a sleek black stallion that no witcher should have been able to afford. At first Lambert had thought it was Geralt going off on some hare brained jaunt at the urging of his bard. Then they crossed paths and Geralt grumbled about having had the easy contracts taken already and Lambert knew it wasn’t him.

Even Aiden was starting to get pissed off with this witcher dubbed the Black Crow. Oddly fitting that first there was the White Wolf and now some upstart would try and cash in on a similar moniker. They were at yet another town where the noticeboard only held stupidity and nothing more. At the tavern they were informed that the Black Crow had it in hand, a slight necrophage problem out by some caves. The bastard wouldn’t even accept a room for the night as payment, insisting on a meagre amount of coin. Cheap, foolish idiot. At least Lambert and Aiden weren’t kicked out of the tavern because there was already another witcher there so maybe not all was lost.

“I want to give that bastard a piece of my mind,” Lambert grumbled as they chucked their packs in the corner of their room. “They said his horse is still in the stable, want to check it out?”

Of course Aiden was game, he was curious by nature and this Black Crow had been a thorn in their side for a while. The idiot was more like minor pest control than true witcher, had left a griffin, noon wraiths and even an archespore infestation for them to deal with. If there was one thing Aiden didn’t like, it was a lazy bugger. They wandered out to the stable and it was pretty easy to spot Black Crow’s horse. It was sleek, black and beautiful. Aiden whistled.

“How did the bastard steal a Nilfgaardian war horse?”

Lambert already didn’t like this witcher but now he outright hated him. There wasn’t much of a standard witchers were held to but they definitely didn’t stoop as low as stealing, even if it was a fine horse from Nilfgaard.

“Black Crow took half the coin offered for the contract as long as we took full care of the horse,” the stable boy offered up the information without much prompting. “It’s rare to have such a beautiful creature pass through here, of course we accepted.”

Bastard even cared for his horse better than he cared for the reputation of witchers. Unbearable.

“We’re going to pay him a visit, come on,” he told Aiden. Together, they grabbed their swords and potions, expecting the worst. Though, given how this witcher only took easy contracts, Lambert suspected he’d be more likely to run than face off against two witchers.

Trudging out to the caves, Lambert could see the evidence of a fight. It was messy, much more like the work of a trainee freshly released on the Path than a veteran. Given how long ago the last witchers had been created, Lambert didn’t know what to think. If there were new witchers being made, he was going to have a much more difficult year, tracking down the bastards and putting a stop to more innocent boys being forced through the Trials.

“Doesn’t look like it went too well,” Aiden commented and nodded to the swords on the ground. At first glance they were standard witcher swords, nothing special. But when Lambert picked it up he frowned. It was a cheap sword, one that was more likely to break over the scales of a basilisk than pierce even a hirikka. The silver sword was a little further up towards the cave, left buried in a necrophage. There was barely any silver in it, trace amounts hastily smithed onto it and neither sword held any trace of any kind of wraith oil or all the other things witchers were taught to cover their weapons in. Something wasn’t quite right but Lambert didn’t know what. No respectable witcher left his weapons abandoned like that but then again, they had already established that the Black Crow wasn’t exactly a respectable witcher.

Pulling his sword from its sheath, Lambert pointed to the cave mouth. There might still be necrophages and a potentially hostile witcher too. Even disarmed, a witcher was a dangerous foe. Together, they entered the cave on silent feet. The only sound either of them could hear was a ragged, shivery breathing, thready and faint. At the back of the cave was the embers of a fire which Aiden threw a casual igni at, lighting up area.

There he was, the Black Crow, huddled against the back of the cave, propped up against a wall and curled in on himself. Smears of bloodied handprints were around him as he’d obviously pushed himself up.

“Well shit,” Lambert swore. Because while he had many a not so nice thought about the Black Crow, he still wasn’t able to sit by and watch another person suffer and die if he could help in. “Necrophage got you?”

A helmet covered head lifted to stare at them blindly. Lambert didn’t have time for games. “Show us. We can help.”

Slowly, a shaking arm lifted to show torn armour, a chunk missing from the arm where rotten teeth had sunk in and gashes across the torso as claws had tried to rip this idiotic witcher open.

Lambert growled. “Aiden, check for more wounds. I’ll grab potions. Where do you keep them?”

As nice as Lambert was, not killing the Black Crow while helpless, he wasn’t going to waste his own precious potions on him. There was no reply though so Lambert looked around, trying to find a potions satchel or similar.

“Lamb.” Aiden called as he helped the Black Crow get more comfortable, pulling his helmet off. More urgently he raised his voice. “Lambert!”

“What?”

“Look!” Turning back annoyed, Lambert gave the face of the Black Crow a once over, handsome enough but now wasn’t the time for Aiden to be thinking with his dick. When if was obvious that he wasn’t getting it, Aiden rolled his eyes. “Look at his eyes.”

Another glance and Lambert’s jaw slackened. Glassy blue eyes stared back at him. It suddenly all clicked into place. This was no witcher, merely a human masquerading as one. Pretty desperate measures to sink to if Lambert was asked. However, he had more pressing things to worry about - namely, potions weren’t going to help this poor fucker, only kill him quicker.

“Shit. Have we got enough for a poultice?”

Suddenly, there was a lot more of an urge to work quickly. Necrophage bites were deeply unpleasant for a witcher but not urgently in need of treatment. A human was a very different matter. Throwing together the contents of their bags, Lambert began putting together something to help a human. Meanwhile, Aiden set about trying to unravel the layers of armour and cloaks the Black Crow wore. Under the black top layer was Nilfgaardian armour, worn and patched up so often, it was almost more patches than original.

Slowly, a picture was starting to form in Aiden’s mind about just what they were dealing with. A dissident. Obviously a higher ranking one, given how all the patches were ripped off the armour and the length he had gone to to hide his identity.

The hastily concocted poultice was applied to the Black Crow’s wounds and Lambert sat back to watch as he fell into a fitful sleep. It wasn’t restful by any means but then again, necrophage bites had the tendency to poison the mind.

Just before he finally succumbed, the man looked at the witchers and managed a hoarse “Cahir” which was probably his name. It hurt to think that the man was so desperate to be known, to share one last connection with a fellow soul, that he would throw away all the secrecy he’d built just so he wouldn’t die unknown and alone.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Aiden asked as he sat down next to Lambert, pressing their shoulders together.

“We don’t need another mouth to feed,” Lambert replied. But he’d already considered it. They’d gone to such an extent to save the life of this human when they didn’t have to. While they were in no way responsible for what happened next, both of them could relate to an outcast, someone who had nothing and had to fight to get anything from life. “Though he did prioritise his horse over himself.”

“And he tried to help people. What’s he running from that even the life of a witcher is better?”

Shaking his head, Lambert pushed to get up. “You watch over him, I’ll go clean up outside.”

By the time he was done, he had had a chance to think everything through. And he knew, that if his offer was taken up, he had not one but two guests coming home to Kaer Morhen with him for winter.

#lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert/aiden/cahir #lambert #aiden #Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach #tldr: desperate times mean desperate (witcher-y) measures

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96harmony96 · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1

I loved New York with the kind of mad passion I reserved for only one other thing in my life. The city was a microcosm of new world opportunities and old world traditions. Conservatives rubbed shoulders with bohemians. Oddities coexisted with priceless rarities. The pulsing energy of the city fueled international business bloodlines and drew people from all over the world.

And the embodiment of all that vibrancy, driving ambition, and world-renowned power had just screwed me to two toe-curlingly awesome orgasms.

As I padded over to her massive walk-in closet, I glanced at lauren jauregui’s sex-rumpled bed and shivered with remembered pleasure. My hair was still damp from a shower, and the towel wrapped around me was my only article of clothing. I had an hour and a half before I had to be at work, which was cutting it a little too close for comfort. Obviously, I was going to have to allot time in my morning routine for sex, otherwise I’d always be scrambling. Lauren woke up ready to conquer the world, and she liked to start that domination with me.

How lucky was I?

Because it was sliding into July in New York and the temperature was heating up, I chose a slim pair of pressed natural-linen slacks and a sleeveless poplin shell in a soft brown that matched my eyes. Since I had no hairstyling talent, I pulled my long drown hair back in a simple ponytail, then made up my face. When I was presentable, I left the bedroom.

I heard Lauren's voice the moment I stepped into the hallway. A tiny shiver moved through me when I realized she was angry, her voice low and clipped. she didn’t rile easily . . . unless she was ticked off with me. I could get her to raise her voice and curse, even shove her hands through her glorious shoulder-length mane of inky black hair.

For the most part, though, Lauren was a testament to leashed power. There was no need for her to shout when she could get people to quake in their shoes with just a look or a tersely spoken word.

I found her in her home office. She stood with her back to the door and a Bluetooth receiver in her ear. Her arms were crossed and she was staring out the windows of her Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment, giving the impression of a very solitary woman, an individual who was separate from the world around her, yet entirely capable of ruling it.

Leaning into the doorjamb, I drank her in. I was certain my view of the skyline was more awe-inspiring than her. My vantage point included her superimposed over those towering skyscrapers, an equally powerful and impressive presence. she’d finished her shower before I managed to crawl out of bed. her seriously addictive body was now dressed in two pieces of an expensively tailored three-piece suit—an admitted hot button of mine. The rear view of her showcased a perfect ass and a powerful back encased in a vest.

On the wall was a massive collage of photos of us as a couple and one very intimate one that she’d taken of me while I was sleeping. Most were pictures taken by the paparazzi who followed her every move. She was Lauren Jauregui, of Jauregui Industries, and at the ridiculous age of twenty-eight, she was one of the top twenty-five richest people in the world. I was pretty sure she owned a significant chunk of Manhattan; I was positive she was the hottest woman on the planet. And she kept photos of me everywhere she worked, as if I could possibly be as fun to look at as she was.

she turned, pivoting gracefully to catch me with her icy green gaze. Of course she’d known I was there, watching her. There was a crackling in the air when we were near each other, a sense of anticipation like the coiled silence before the boom of thunder. she’d probably deliberately waited a beat before facing me, giving me the opportunity to check her out because she knew I loved to look at her.

Dark and Dangerous. And all mine.

God . . . I never got used to the impact of that face. Those sculpted cheekbones and dark winged brows, the thickly lashed green eyes, and those lips . . . perfectly etched to be both sensual and wicked. I loved when they smiled with sexual invitation, and I shivered when they thinned into a stern line. And when she pressed those lips to my body, I burned for her.

Jeez, listen to yourself. My mouth curved, remembering how annoyed I used to get at pals who waxed poetic about their boyfriends’ good looks. But here I was, constantly awed by the gorgeousness of the complicated, frustrating, messed-up, sexy-as-sin woman I was falling deeper in love with every day.

As we stared at each other, her scowl didn’t lessen, nor did she cease speaking to the poor soul on the receiving end of her call, but her gaze warmed from its chilly irritation to scorching heat.

I should’ve gotten used to the change that came over her when she looked at me, but it still hit me with a force strong enough to rock me on my feet. That look conveyed how hard and deep she wanted to fuck me—which she did every chance she got—and it also afforded me a glimpse of her raw, unrelenting force of will. A core of strength and command marked everything Lauren did in life.

“See you at eight on Saturday,” she finished, before yanking off the earpiece and tossing it on her desk. “Come here, camila.”

Another shiver slid through me at the way she said my name, with the same authoritative bite she used when she said Come, Camila, while I was beneath her . . . filled with her . . . desperate to climax for her . . .

“No time for that, ace.” I backed into the hallway, because I was weak where she was concerned. The soft rasp in her smooth, cultured voice was nearly capable of making me orgasm just listening to it. And whenever she touched me, I caved.

I hurried to the kitchen to make us some coffee.

she muttered something under her breath and followed me out, her long stride easily gaining on mine. I found myself pinned to the hallway wall by a six feet, two inches of hard, hot male.

“You know what happens when you run, angel.” Lauren nipped my lower lip with her teeth and then soothed the sting with the caress of her tongue. “I catch you.”

Inside me, something sighed with happy surrender and my body went lax with pleasure at being pressed so close to her. I craved her constantly, so deeply it was a physical ache. What I felt was lust, but it was also so much more. Something so precious and profound that Lauren's lust for me wasn’t the trigger it would’ve been with another man. If anyone else had attempted to subdue me with the weight of their body, I would’ve freaked out. But it had never been an issue with lauren. She knew what I needed and how much I could take.

The sudden flash of her grin stopped my heart.

Confronted with that breathtaking face framed by that lustrous dark hair, I felt my knees weaken just a little. She was so polished and urbane except for the decadent length of those silky strands.

she nuzzled her nose against mine. “You can’t smile at me like that, then walk away. Tell me what you were thinking about when I was on the phone.”

My lips twisted wryly. “How gorgeous you are. It’s sickening how often I think about that. I need to get over it already.”

she cupped the back of my thigh and urged me tighter against her, teasing me with an expert roll of her hips against mine. She was outrageously gifted in bed. And she knew it. “Damn if I’ll let you.”

“Oh?” Heat slid sinuously through my veins, my body too greedy for the feel of her. “You can’t tell me you want another starry-eyed woman hanging on you, Miss. Hates-Exaggerated-Expectations.”

“What I want,” she purred, cupping my jaw and rubbing my bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, “is you being too busy thinking about me to think about anyone else.”

I pulled in a slow and shaky breath. I was completely seduced by the smoldering look in her eyes, the provocative tone of her voice, the heat of her body, and the mouthwatering scent of her skin. She was my drug, and I had no desire to kick the habit.

“Lauren,” I breathed, entranced.

With a soft groan, she sealed her chiseled mouth over mine, stealing away thoughts of what time it was with a lush, deep kiss . . . a kiss that almost succeeded in distracting me from seeing the insecurity she’d just revealed.

I pushed my fingers into her hair to hold her still and kissed her back, my tongue sliding along her, stroking. We’d been a couple for such a short period of time. Less than a month. Worse, neither of us knew how to have a relationship like the one we were attempting to build—a relationship in which we refused to pretend we weren’t both seriously broken.

her arms banded around me and tightened possessively. “I wanted to spend the weekend with you down in the Florida Keys—naked.”

“Umm, sounds nice.” More than nice. As big of a kick as I got out of Lauren in a three-piece suit, I much preferred her stripped to the skin. I avoided pointing out that I wouldn’t be available this weekend . . .

“Now I’ve got to spend the weekend taking care of business,” she muttered, her lips moving against mine.

“Business you put off to be with me?” she’d been leaving work early to spend time with me, and I knew that had to be costing her. My mother was in her third marriage, and all of her spouses were successful, wealthy moguls of one kind or another. I knew the price for ambition was very late hours.

“I pay other people a generous salary so I can be with you.”

Nice dodge, but noting the flash of irritation in her gaze, I distracted her. “Thank you. Let’s get some coffee before we run out of time.”

Lauren stroked her tongue along my bottom lip, then released me. “I’d like to get off the ground by eight tomorrow night. Pack cool and light. Arizona’s got dry heat.”

“What?” I blinked at her retreating back as it disappeared into her office. “Arizona is where your business is?”

“Unfortunately.”

Uh . . . whoa. Instead of risking my shot at coffee, I postponed arguing and continued on to the kitchen. I passed through Lauren's spacious apartment with its stunning prewar architecture and slender arched windows, my heels alternately clicking over gleaming hardwood and muffled by Aubusson rugs. Decorated in dark woods and neutral fabrics, the luxurious space was brightened by jeweled accents. As much as her place screamed money, it managed to remain warm and welcoming, a comfortable place to relax and feel pampered.

When I reached the kitchen, I wasted no time in shoving a travel mug under the one-cup coffeemaker. Lauren joined me with her jacket draped over one arm and her cell phone in her hand. I put another portable mug under the spout for her before I went to the fridge for some half-and-half.

“It might be fortunate after all.” I faced her and reminded her of my roommate issue. “I need to knock heads with Cary this weekend.”

Lauren dropped her phone in the inner pocket of her jacket, then hung the garment off the back of one of the bar stools at the island. “You’re coming with me, camila.”

Exhaling in a rush, I added half-and-half to my coffee. “To do what? Lie around naked, waiting for you to finish work and fuck me?”

her gaze held mine as she collected her mug and sipped her steaming coffee with too-calm deliberation. “Are we going to argue?”

“Are you going to be difficult? We talked about this. You know I can’t leave Cary after what happened last night.” The multibody tangle I’d found in my living room gave new meaning to the word clusterfuck.

I put the carton back in the fridge and absorbed the sensation of being drawn to her inexorably by the force of her will. It’d been that way from the beginning. When she chose to, Lauren could make me feel her demands. And it was very, very difficult to ignore the part of me that begged to give her whatever she wanted. “You’re going to take care of business and I’m going to take care of my best friend, then we’ll go back to taking care of each other.”

“I won’t be back until Sunday night, camila.”

Oh . . . I felt a sharp twinge in my belly at hearing we’d be apart that long. Most couples didn’t spend every free moment together, but we weren’t like most people. We both had hang-ups, insecurities, and an addiction to each other that required regular contact to keep us functioning properly. I hated being apart from her. I rarely went more than a couple of hours without thinking of her.

“You can’t stand the thought, either,” she said quietly, studying me in that way she had that saw everything. “By Sunday we’ll both be worthless.”

I blew on the surface of my coffee, then took a quick sip. I was unsettled at the thought of going the entire weekend without her. Worse, I hated the thought of her spending that amount of time away from me. She had a world of choices and possibilities out there, women who weren’t so screwed up and difficult to be with.

Still, I managed to say, “We both know that’s not exactly healthy, lauren.”

“Says who? No one else knows what it’s like to be us.”

Okay, I’d give her that.

“We need to get to work,” I said, knowing this impasse was going to drive both of us crazy all day. We’d sort it out later, but for now we were stuck with it.

Resting her hip against the counter, she crossed her ankles and stubbornly settled in. “What we need is for you to come with me.”

“lauren.” My foot began to tap against the travertine tile. “I can’t just give up my life for you. If I turn into arm candy, you’ll get bored real quick. Hell, I’d get sick of myself. It shouldn’t kill us to spend a couple days straightening out other parts of our lives, even if we hate doing it.”

her gaze captured mine. “You’re too much trouble to be arm candy.”

“Takes a troublemaker to know one.”

Lauren straightened, shrugging off her brooding sensuality and instantly capturing me with her severe intensity. So mercurial—like me. “You’ve gotten a lot of press lately, camila. It’s no secret that you’re in New York. I can’t leave you here while I’m gone. Bring Cary with us if you have to. You can butt heads with him while you’re waiting for me to finish work and fuck you.”

“Ha.” Even as I acknowledged her attempt to lighten the strain with humor, I realized what her real objection to being apart from me was—Nathan. My former stepbrother. The living nightmare from my past that Lauren seemed to fear might reappear in my present. It frightened me to concede that she wasn’t totally wrong. The shield of anonymity that had protected me for years had been shattered by our highly public relationship.

God . . . we totally didn’t have the time to get into that mess, but I knew it wasn’t a point Lauren would concede on. She was a woman who claimed her possessions utterly, fought off her competitors with ruthless precision, and would never allow any harm to come to me. I was her safe place, which made me rare and invaluable to her.

Lauren glanced at her watch. “Time to go, angel.”

She fetched her jacket, then gestured for me to precede her through her luxurious living room, where I grabbed my purse and the bag holding my walking shoes and other necessities. A few moments later, we’d finished the descent to the ground floor in her private elcamilator and slid into the back of her black Bentley SUV.

“Hi, Angus,” I greeted her driver, who touched the brim of his old-fashioned chauffeur’s hat.

“Good morning, Miss.Cabello,” he replied, smiling. He was an older gentleman, with a liberal sprinkling of white in his red hair. I liked him for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that he’d been driving Lauren around since grade school and genuinely cared for her.

A quick glance at the Rolex my mother and stepfather had given me told me I’d make it to work on time . . . if we didn’t get boxed in by traffic. Even as I thought this, Angus slid deftly into the sea of taxis and cars on the street. After the tense quiet of Lauren's apartment, the noise of Manhattan woke me as effectively as a jolt of caffeine. The blaring of horns and the thud of tires over a manhole cover invigorated me. Rapid-moving streams of pedestrians flanked both sides of the clogged street, while buildings stretched ambitiously toward the sky, keeping us in shadow even as the sun climbed.

God, I seriously loved New York. I took the time every day to absorb it, to try to draw it into me.

I settled into the leather seat back and reached for Lauren's hand, giving it a squeeze. “Would you feel better if Cary and I left town for the weekend? Maybe a quick trip to Vegas?”

Lauren's gaze narrowed. “Am I a threat to Cary? Is that why you won’t consider Arizona?”

“What? No. I don’t think so.” Shifting in the seat, I faced her. “Sometimes it takes an all-nighter before I can get him to open up.”

“You don’t think so?” She repeated my answer, ignoring everything but the first words out of my mouth.

“He might feel like he can’t reach out to me when he needs to talk because I’m always with you,” I clarified, steadying my mug with two hands as we drove over a pothole. “Listen, you’re going to have to get over any jealousy about Cary. When I say he’s like a brother to me, Lauren, I’m not kidding. You don’t have to like him but you have to understand that he’s a permanent part of my life.”

“Do you tell him the same thing about me?”

“I don’t have to. He knows. I’m trying to reach a compromise here—”

“I never compromise.”

My brows rose. “In business, I’m sure you don’t. But this is a relationship, lauren. It requires give and—”

Lauren's growl cut me off. “My plane, my hotel, and if you leave the premises you take a security team with you.”

Her sudden, reluctant capitulation surprised me silent for a long minute. Long enough for her brow to arch over those piercing green eyes in a look that said take it or leave it.

“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” I prodded. “I’ll have Cary with me.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust him with your safety after last night.” As she drank her coffee, her posture made it very clear that the conversation was done in her mind. she’d given me her acceptable options.

I might’ve gotten bitchy about that kind of high-handedness if I didn’t understand that taking care of me was her motivation. My past had vicious skeletons, and dating Lauren had put me in a media spotlight that could bring Nathan Barker right to my door.

Plus, controlling everything around her was just part of who Lauren was. It came with the package and I had to make accommodations for that.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Which hotel is yours?”

“I have a few. You can take your pick.” she turned her head to look out the window. “Scott will email you the list. When you’ve decided, let him know and he’ll make the arrangements. We’ll fly out together and return together.”

Leaning my shoulder into the seat, I took a drink of my coffee and noted the way her hand was fisted on her thigh. In the tinted window’s reflection, Lauren's face was impassive, but I could feel her moodiness.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“Don’t. I’m not happy about this, camila.” A muscle in her jaw twitched. “Your roommate fucks up and I have to spend the weekend without you.”

Hating that she was unhappy, I took her coffee from her and set our travel mugs in the backseat cup holders. Then I climbed into her lap, straddling her. I draped my arms around her shoulders. “I appreciate you bending on this, lauren. It means a lot to me.”

she caught me in her fierce green gaze. “I knew you were going to drive me insane the moment I saw you.”

I smiled, recalling how we’d met. “Sprawled on my ass on the lobby floor of the Crossfire Building?”

“Before. Outside.”

Frowning, I asked, “Outside where?”

“On the sidewalk.” Lauren gripped my hips, squeezing in that possessive, commanding way of her that made me ache for her. “I was leaving for a meeting. A minute later and I would’ve missed you. I’d just gotten into the car when you came around the corner.”

I remembered the Bentley idling at the curb that day. I’d been too awed by the building to take note of the sleek vehicle when I arrived, but I had noticed it when I left.

“You hit me the instant I saw you,” she said gruffly. “I couldn’t look away. I wanted you immediately. Excessively. Almost violently.”

How could I not have known that there’d been more to our first meeting than I’d realized? I thought we’d stumbled across each other by accident. But she’d been leaving for the day . . . which meant she had deliberately backtracked inside. For me.

“You stopped right next to the Bentley,” she went on, “and your head tilted back. You were looking up at the building and I pictured you on your knees, looking up at me that same way.”

The low growl in Lauren's voice had me squirming in her lap. “What way?” I whispered, mesmerized by the fire in her eyes.

“With excitement. A little awe . . . a little intimidation.” Cupping my rear, she urged me tighter against her. “There was no way to stop myself from following you inside. And there you were, right where I’d wanted you, damn near kneeling in front of me. In that minute, I had a half dozen fantasies about what I was going to do to you when I got you naked.”

I swallowed, remembering my similar reaction to her. “Looking at you for the first time made me think about sex. Screaming, sheet-clawing sex.”

“I saw that.” her hands slid up either side of my spine. “And I knew you saw me, too. Saw what I am . . . what I have inside me. You saw right through me.”

And that was what had knocked me on my ass—literally. I’d looked into her eyes and realized how tightly reined she was, what a shadowed soul she had. I had seen power and hunger and control and demand. Somewhere inside me, I’d known she would take me over. It was a relief to know she’d felt the same upheaval over me.

Lauren's hands hugged my shoulder blades and pulled me closer, until our foreheads touched. “No one’s ever seen before, camila. You’re the only one.”

My throat tightened painfully. In so many ways, Lauren was a hard woman, yet she could be so sweet to me. Almost childishly so, which I loved because it was pure and uncontrolled. If no one else bothered to look beyond her striking face and impressive bank account, they didn’t deserve to know her. “I had no idea. You were so . . . cool. I didn’t seem to affect you at all.”

“Cool?” she scoffed. “I was on fire for you. I’ve been fucked up ever since.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“You made me need you,” she rasped. “Now I can’t stand the thought of two days without you.”

Holding her jaw in my hands, I kissed her tenderly, my lips coaxing and apologetic. “I love you, too,” I whispered against her beautiful mouth. “I can’t stand being away from you, either.”

her returning kiss was greedy, devouring, and yet the way she held me close to her was gentle and reverent. As if I were precious. When she pulled back, we were both breathing hard.

“I’m not even your type,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood before we went into work. Lauren's preference for blondes was well known and well documented.

I felt the Bentley pull over and to a halt. Angus got out of the car to give us privacy, leaving the engine and air-conditioning running. I looked out the window and saw the Crossfire beside us.

“About the type thing—” Lauren's head fell back to rest against the seat. She took a deep breath. “Corinne was surprised by you. You weren’t what she’d expected.”

My jaw tightened at the mention of Lauren's former fiancée. Even knowing that their relationship had been about friendship and loneliness for her, not love, didn’t stop the claws of envy from digging into me. Jealousy was one of my virulent flaws. “Because I’m brunette?”

“Because . . . you don’t look like her.”

My breath caught. I hadn’t considered that Corinne had set the standard for her. Even Magdalene Perez—one of Lauren's friends who wished she were more—had said she’d kept her light hair long to emulate Corinne. But I hadn’t grasped the complexity of that observation. My God . . . if it was true, Corinne had tremendous power over Lauren, way more than I could bear. My heart rate quickened and my stomach churned. I hated her irrationally. Hated that she’d had even a piece of her. Hated every woman who’d known her touch . . . her lust . . . her amazing body.

I started sliding off her.

“camila.” She stayed me by tightening her grip on my thighs. “I don’t know if she’s right.”

I looked down at where she held me, and the sight of my promise ring on the finger of her right hand—my brand of ownership—calmed me. So did the look of confusion on her face when I met her gaze. “You don’t?”

“If that’s what it was, it wasn’t conscious. I wasn’t looking for her in other women. I didn’t know I was looking for anything until I saw you.”

My hands slid down her lapels as relief filled me. Maybe she hadn’t been consciously looking for her, but even if she had, I couldn’t be more different from Corinne in appearance and temperament. I was unique to her; a woman apart from her others in every way. I wished that could be enough to kill my jealousy.

“Maybe it wasn’t a preference so much as a pattern.” I smoothed her frown line with a fingertip. “You should ask Dr. Petersen when we see her tonight. I wish I had more answers after all my years of therapy, but I don’t. There’s a lot that’s inexplicable between us, isn’t there? I still have no idea what you see in me that’s hooked you.”

“It’s what you see in me, angel,” she said quietly, her features softening. “That you can know what I have in me and still want me as much as I want you. I go to sleep every night afraid I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. Or that I scared you away . . . that I dreamed you—”

“No. lauren.” Jesus. She broke my heart every day. Shattered me.

“I know I don’t tell you how I feel about you in the same way you tell me, but you have me. You know that.”

“Yes, I know you love me, lauren.” Insanely. Outrageously. Obsessively. Just like my feelings for her.

“I’m caught up with you, camila.” With her head tilted back, Lauren pulled me down for the sweetest of kisses, her firm lips moving gently beneath mine. “I’d kill for you,” she whispered, “give up everything I own for you . . . but I won’t give you up. Two days is my limit. Don’t ask for more than that; I can’t give it to you.”

I didn’t take her words lightly. her wealth insulated her, gave her the power and control that had been stolen from her at some point in her life. she’d suffered brutality and violation, just as I had. That she would consider it worthwhile to lose her peace of mind just to keep me meant more than the words I love you.

“I just need the two days, ace, and I’ll make them worth your while.”

The starkness of her gaze bled away, replaced by sexual heat. “Oh? Planning on pacifying me with sex, angel?”

“Yes,” I admitted shamelessly. “Lots of it. After all, the tactic seems to work well for you.”

her mouth curved, but her gaze had a sharpness that quickened my breath. The dark look she gave me reminded me—as if I could forget—that Lauren wasn’t a man who could be managed or tamed.

“Ah, Camila,” she purred, sprawled against the seat with the predatory insouciance of a sleek panther who’d neatly trapped a mouse in her den.

A delicious shiver moved through me. When it came to Lauren, I was more than willing to be devoured.

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

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All in the Family

Chapter 129: The Department of Mysteries

Peter was not the only one who did a quick head count the moment they landed in a long, narrow aisle in the poorest of lighting and still sighed in relief to only see seven people moving about, if not counting themselves. Sirius had landed farthest away, sliding a bit into the shadows, but James moved instantly this time and caught him, pulling them all into a quick circle of relative safety and they all complied as they spied around.

It was exactly as the book had described, a great cathedral-sized room so large you couldn't see the walls or ceiling, with tiny little specks of dusty light the most pitiful of visible sources to give them exposure. The smallest of peeks around the corner showed endless rows of shelves, and they were on ninety-seven.

Their breathing sounded obnoxiously loud in the silence that followed. It should have been of some comfort no dead body had appeared this time, but it gave no one a single second of belief somebody wasn't going to come out of this dead, the most likely candidate the one amongst them. Peter had to crane his neck a bit, but finally he spotted the book resting on the shelf of objects, tiny little spun glass orbs each with a plaque underneath them. He frowned and turned slightly, now dead center in the group as everyone else kept looking around while he read:

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter

He opened, then closed his mouth. He really should point that out to James, but he was hoping to get out of here instead, and yet, what were the odds the book wasn't going to do the same?

Regulus finally turned away from the endless shadows around them to see the same. The two frowned uneasily at each other, but Regulus quietly summoned the book to him instead of saying anything too. The chapter title was inevitable, The Department of Mysteries.

James, Sirius, and Remus all flinched heavily as Regulus began, moving closer to each other but still not daring to leave the sanctity of this tiny little space that wasn't currently trying to kill them. You-Know-Who was not lurking around the corner waiting to kill them all, he was just as human as anyone no matter how much the maniac tried to pretend otherwise, he was not above such trivial descriptions.

It was still hard to keep that thought in mind as Harry just kept feeling the pain of his scar. The journey seemed to take ages, by the time the teenagers on their way here arrived the others were at least trying to force themselves to relax enough they weren't standing on the balls of their feet, ready to run or throw a curse at a moment's notice. Instead they were all starting to take a look around now at the details of this place, even if still nobody dared speak a word except Regulus trying to get them out of here.

Except Sirius. Despite James having one death grip on his arm and the other holding his wand quickly snatched back from Moony, he was still just a foot apart from everyone else as close together as they could, that cold expression still held in place, his resemblance to Regulus was more heightened than ever. He still had his wand at the ready, he tracked James carefully as he watched the book when Harry made it down to that long corridor without a single obstacle and his face was just as worried for his godson to be here as they were, but there was still something remote to it all, like a delayed reaction behind whatever he was really thinking.

Sirius was the most impulsive, brash person Peter was convinced he'd ever meet. The first time they'd ever passed each other in the corridor was leaving Potions and he'd been pushed out of the way onto the stairs, the arsehole snickering as he chased after James without looking back. Yet Peter had hovered, and hoped, and watched the two in fascination for how easily they knew the place in their very first week. It had taken him less than a month to discover people so easily overlooked him and the ready penchant for eavesdropping quickly developed.

They'd noticed him though. James had caught him at it, smiling and offering if he wanted to help them out with something while Sirius had rolled his eyes and huffed impatiently, muttering about they didn't need a little sneak around to pull this prank off. Peter had excelled though, giving extravagant and detailed information of who would be where when this took place so much so they'd never tried pulling a stunt without him keeping an eye out again.

Padfoot had still taken a bit to warm up to him, but eventually he'd stopped side-eying him in annoyance and instead started up the teasing. Little things that slowly got more elaborate as time went on. Joking threats he used just as readily on Snivellus as him, smacking him upside the head or even sending a curse if he thought Peter was particularly in the way that day. Peter never protested any of it, the feeling of inclusion and even having this attention from the most popular kids in school was all he could have asked for in his life.

It was also him though Sirius tended to ask first about Muggle things, they had a wide range of experiments back in their door from a cannibalized radio Sirius was trying to pick up Muggle tunes on to even a landline he was trying to get to work. It's not that he didn't have the option of asking Remus either, but the whole thing had started when Sirius asked him for something he couldn't find in his Muggle Studies book and it had all spiraled from there, but it was pretty much the only thing the two ever had fun doing that didn't involve the others.

It was Sirius who held down a student and force-fed him armadillo bile when someone else shoved him down a flight of stairs once. It was always Sirius first who had a retaliatory remark, spell or otherwise if he perceived the slightest threat to any of them. His inherently cruel nature only rarely tempered off by James's influence as he jumped in to help, but escalation of whatever Sirius had been tempted to do somehow always had them laughing rather than anybody really needing a trip to the hospital wing by the end.

Whatever indifference Sirius was trying so desperately to keep up for Harry searching room upon room for him, Peter had a bad feeling for who it was going to break on when Harry did find him. He rubbed ruefully at his nose and watched Regulus, for the first time considering not just being Sirius's outlet if he retaliated.

Harry and even his friends getting delayed in each room for one reason or another was starting to make them all twitchy and sick with stress, Peter started biting at his nails as the endless possibilities for why he hadn't come across anyone. He was half tempted to offer to change forms and have a poke around, maybe they were missing something by refusing to move away. Surely the greatest danger was You-Know-Who, and he couldn't be here.

Sirius finally moved, and as he spoke for the first time his voice cracked with worry as he watched James, "stay away from that."

James had finally noticed the little plaque with his son's name on it just as Harry reached this aisle and was inevitably fixing to do the same. James still had a grip on Sirius, but didn't even seem to hear him as he took a curious step forward, a look on his face Peter really didn't like. James only waited long enough to hear that Harry picked it up just fine before reaching to do the same.

"It's not worth it Prongs!" Sirius said instantly, switching it now so that he was holding onto him, he had hold of his dominant hand and wand, but couldn't reach the other, there were just too many people in the way and he'd swear the shelves were already trembling from their proximity.

"You can't tell me this is a coincidence? This thing's obviously important! I'm related to Harry! Surely that should count-"

"Don't!" Evans pleaded with him, reaching out on impulse and catching his other wrist, and on pure instinct he looked to meet her eyes, and she stared back without a single waver. "Listen to yourself Potter! This hasn't happened yet, and bloody hell knows what'll happen to you if you do this now when we still have a chance to stop it."

"This could be our only chance!" James insisted, trying to fight her off weakly without actually touching her, that would be too distracting right now. "We could stop all of this now if we just get this stupid thing Voldemort wants so bad!" Nobody flinched at the sound of the name. "This is our chance to fix it all!"

"What if you die right now," Sirius pleaded with him desperately. Evans still hadn't let go of his wrist, Sirius still had a firm hold on his arm, but James hadn't so much as looked away. "That Bode man ended up with Alice and Frank because he was forced to try and grab this!" Their jokes and laughter all from before as they'd interacted with the various, seemingly empty environments felt more like a haunted nightmare. Peter still had a chunk missing from his ear, Sirius himself still had the scars from his fight with Moony, James's fingers were still injured from back when all this began. If James touched that, who knew if the effects would be reversed. "If you end up like that James, Harry'll never even be born, this'll all be for nothing!"

James still looked desperately at it, that tiny little pinprick of light the only thing he could see.

Peter couldn't just listen this time though, if they couldn't talk him down then Peter was prepared to stun him to keep him from doing it, but then the shelves began to shake.

Regulus blanched and whipped back to reading faster than ever as the shelves around them began heaving and moving dangerously, a few tiny glass balls even began raining down around them, one coming so dangerously close to hitting Peter he felt the graze of it like a slap on the cheek as it crashed at his feet instead. The puff of smoke tried to solidify into an old bearded man saying something, but his voice was lost under Regulus's.

James was still trying to push the others off, his damnable need for action that had led all of them through their years in school pushing him to still try one last desperate attempt to reach for the little ball still in place as Regulus finished with the perilous sentence Harry's group finally had company.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #OotP #Sirius Black #Marauders #wolfstar #Remus Lupin #James Potter #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Alice Smith #Frank Longbottom #Lily Evans

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mst3kproject · 4 years ago

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The River of the Giant Alligator

A bunch of Italians pretending they’re not Italian in a movie about a guy who chose the wrong place to build a hotel… it’s like Avalanche by way of Devil Fish, with an alligator. And racism. You can’t have a 70’s Italian jungle movie without the racism, and this one layers it on real thick. I think The River of the Giant Alligator has its MST3K bases covered.

Rich Asshole Joshua has opened Paradise House, a resort in the middle of the ‘virgin jungle’. He proudly tells visitors that not only has he left the surrounding ecosystem undamaged, but he’s helping the local people by giving them jobs and improving their standard of living. Naturally it’s not as simple as that. Trouble begins when Sheena, the model they brought for their advertising photographs (just for a dash of Killer Fish), vanishes overnight. Photographer Daniel and hotel manager Ally go to the locals looking for her, and are told that the River God has awakened and intends to drive the white people away by assuming the form of a giant crocodile and eating them all. Considering how mind-bogglingly stupid the tourists in this movie are, that should take all of twenty minutes.

The locals, who call themselves the Kuma, have a name for their River God but it’s pronounced five different ways and I won’t guess how to spell it. Because of the deep breathing sounds that presage its first appearance, I shall call the creature Darth Gator.

Let’s get the basics out of the way first. The whole movie is dubbed and the voice actors are bad. The Darth Gator prop is completely immobile but they mostly keep it in the dark or in really tight shots so we don’t notice… it’s only the occasional ill-advised wide shot where it’s obviously fake enough to be funny. There’s a spiky fence that exists mostly so that people can get impaled on it and a cloying little kid for no reason whatsoever. The ‘wildlife’ is a stock footage smorgasbord that includes orangutans and hippos on the same river. The worst effect in the film is a terrible miniature shot of the hotel on fire, which would have looked just fine if the people involved hadn’t forgotten that flames don’t scale.

So all that sucks, but is fairly harmless. Now let’s talk about the racism.

We’ll start with the movie’s treatment of its two ‘love stories’, and I use the floating commas because neither of them quite qualifies. Daniel and Ally are the main ‘couple’ of the movie. The camera lingers on each of them to show that he thinks she’s beautiful and she thinks he’s rugged, and they spend the whole movie hanging out on balconies and boats together and discussing whether the resort is good or bad for the local people… but they never get so much as a kiss. This is kind of nice, actually, because there’s very little time to stop and make out when you’re being chased by a large carnivorous reptile. It does, however, make for a hell of a contrast between them and the other ‘couple’ we see.

This is the model, Sheena, and her Kuma boyfriend. I am unclear on where this movie is set (the closest we get to a clue is Ally referring to the area as ‘the Orient’, which could honestly mean anything) but it’s perfectly clear that the reason they hired a black woman for their publicity photos is to make the place look ‘exotic’. There’s a weird moment when Joshua attempts to flirt with Sheena by telling her, “it occurs to me that Eve herself may have been black”, which… yes, that is how human evolution worked, what about it? All that aside, at the end of the day, Sheena runs off for a romantic evening with one of the tribesmen. We never see her talk to this guy or have any clue what made her pick him over any of the others. They just go fuck on a beach and then get eaten by an alligator.

So… we have blonde, blue-eyed white people having a perfectly chaste, wait-for-marriage love affair in which they actually get to know each other… and black people who run off with a stranger and screw out in the open like animals. Holy shit. I want to say I hope this wasn’t something the film-makers actively thought about, but it might be worse if they didn’t. Naturally, this is also a version of the ‘people who have premarital sex must die’ trope from slasher movies, and the movie makes doubly sure we know this is Bad Behaviour by having Ally remark that the Kuma are forbidden from visiting ‘the Island of Love’ on the full moon.

The deaths of Sheena and Nameless Kuma Guy also begin a pattern that lasts almost the entire movie. Even though we’re told, repeatedly, that Darth Gator wants to drive the white people out of his jungle, for the vast majority of the running time it’s the brown people who are getting chomped. We’re told that twelve white missionaries came here years ago and Darth Gator ate all but one of them, who then became a crazy jungle man (not gonna lie, Father Jonathan was my favourite character and I wish we’d seen more of him). We see Sheena, her boyfriend, and the boyfriend’s brother get eaten alive. Furthermore, most of the white deaths in the movie are at the hands of the Kuma, who run in and kill the tourists with spears and fire arrows in the belief that they’re doing their god’s bidding, and much of this happens offscreen. Those hit by the arrows quickly fall into the water and vanish from sight. The only time the camera lingers on a white person dying is Joshua, who I guess they think deserved it. The impression one gets is that white death is a horror better implied than shown, while brown death is a spectacle. Again… holy shit.

The River of the Giant Alligator can’t seem to decide what we’re supposed to think about the Kuma people. Early in the film they’re portrayed as victims. These foreigners have invaded their land and built this giant hotel, and claimed to be helping them by giving them ‘work’. Ally notes that they’ll be able to live longer, healthier lives, but Daniel wonders if it’s worth it when they’ve basically become Joshua’s slaves. The movie leaves this question hanging there without exploring it any further. When Daniel and Ally come looking for information about the alligator attacks, the Kuma direct them to Father Jonathan, knowing they’re more likely to believe a white man, even one who’s obviously not quite all there. The movie really wants to be about the exploitation of indigenous peoples, treated as decorations and curiosities by white tourists.

The problem is, it wants to eat that cake, too. By the end of the story, the Kuma have devolved into stock savages. They attack the hotel and kill everybody, and kidnap Ally so they can tie her to a horizontal King Kong contraption as a sacrifice. The ending just makes it all the more confusing, as they turn up to discover that their god has been blown to bloody chunks after biting into a van full of explosives, and they cheer and they just leave. Is it really that easy to kill a god? Won’t a dead god demand vengeance anyway? Does this mean they actually like the white people after all, and were only angry because Darth Gator was eating them?

The ending also muddles the movie’s other point, about the nature of eco-tourism. One of the selling points of Paradise House is that it’s in the middle of virgin jungle. Joshua brags about how he’s left the surrounding ecosystem untouched – but then we cut straight to trees being cleared using dynamite, and later we see live piglets being thrown into the river to keep the crocodiles hanging around so people can gawk at them. You can’t build a hotel in the middle of a place and then call it ‘virgin jungle’. You’re the one who violated it!

The script is a little unclear on whether Darth Gator is a natural or supernatural threat. Ally and Daniel insist that it’s no mere alligator (I don’t think this movie knows the difference between crocodiles and alligators any better than I do) and Father Jonathan seems to believe it’s the Devil Himself, but it certainly dies like a flesh-and-blood creature. Whatever its nature, it’s clear enough that Darth Gator represents the jungle striking back at these intruders to drive them out. The Kuma literally say as much. So what are we to take from the fact that it dies at the end? Have we won the right to destroy the forest by killing its guardian? I don’t believe the people who make these movies think this stuff through.

I can tell that we’re supposed to hate the tourists, and we do, although not always for the reasons the movie wants us to. Minnow, the red-haired little girl who ‘only likes to play with boys’, tries so hard to be Adorable that you want to punt her across the room. Her mother leaves her to wander around the hotel alone, because Mummy’s got a smarmy mustached boyfriend to bang (even this relationship gets more attention than Sheena and Unnamed Kuma Guy, by the way… we are told that Mummy and Mustache have met before, and are here mostly to see each other rather than the jungle). Other notable annoyances include a lady who seems perfectly sane until she starts talking about the aliens, and a guy who loves to complain about Youth These Days and will seize any opportunity to do so.

I kinda wanna gripe about these obnoxious characters, but I don’t feel like I can. You may recall that I spent a month stuck on a cruise ship earlier this year. I can tell you definitively that these people do exist, and I hate them even more in real life.

Man, this could have been a fun monster movie. I’ve seen movies about man-eating crocodiles (or alligators… does it honestly matter that much?) that I really enjoyed. Primeval wasn’t even that bad – it was about how humans are more monstrous than anything nature can produce. Lake Placid had that immortal bit where Betty White says if I had a dick, this is where I’d tell you to suck it. The River of the Great Alligator is just boring bullshit and things that seem kinda racist on the surface but then you think about them a little longer and realize they’re incredibly racist. I went into this one hoping to like it, but it absolutely pissed on the last shreds of my optimism... like a lot of other things in 2020.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the river of the great alligator #the great alligator #fuck this movie #fuck it so much #70s

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unsettledink · 4 years ago

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(Part two of looking back at the fandoms I was in and the fics I wrote in 2020)

(Part one here.)

Most popular story:

By Kudos (and comments), Seiche : By hits, Indefensible : On tumblr, Pocket Change

Story you wish was more successful:

Well, that’s kind of the curse of writing rare pairs. I want anything with Tony/Quentin or Peter/Quentin to be more successful, lol. Defining the feeling of success in fandoms/pairings like that is tricky, because— do I wish they’d gotten more attention? Of course! Do I consider them fairly successful because they got any attention? Yeah, kinda.

Something like Intent got very little response, but considering the size and age of the fandom, it actually felt successful to get any response?

The entire Old Adages series I really wish had found an audience; I’m very fond of it, and it’s… softer than I usually write? The filthy smutty kinky stuff always outpreforms anything else, and that sort of thing feels easy for me. And I’m extrapolating a lot for young Quentin’s characterization, so I’m a little insecure about that as well.

Most "Holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story:

You know, there are several stories I feel like should be that? But let’s be honest, considering what I’ve written in the past, they’re not that bad.

So I’m going to have to go with Creepy Crawly. I mean, I get squicked a little if I read it in the wrong mindset. SPIDERS D:

Hardest story to write:

Causality. I just… could not quite connect somehow. I had the image in my head fine, but when I went to write it I felt pretty meh. I think I hadn’t done much (any?)Peter POV at that point, so that was a stretch. And I think I’d been spending so much time in the world of Gotcha that any other version of Peter/Quentin felt strange. I got it done, I have a sequel planned, but it was a struggle.

No Lies was also tricky. I picked the prompt ‘make-up’ because I had this crystal clear mental image of someone kneeling, crying, makeup smeared all over them. But I didn’t know WHO. I tried so many pairings and characters, and even when I figured out that I really wanted that to be Tony… who with? Could I actually make Peter behaving that way believable?? Once I got it sorted out the writing was easy, but getting there - gah.

Easiest story to write:

Indefensible was bizarre to write, because it literally just arrived in my brain in one giant chunk, complete, and I just had to transcribe it over a day or two. Very odd.

Pocket Change was much the same. The idea appeared and that first image of Tony holding the bill was just… there. The rest of it fell into place so easily as I went along.

Most fun story to write:

Just a Bite was a lot of fun to write. It’s a topic I enjoy anyway, and I like trying to focus in on one element like that. Peter discovering a new thing he liiiiikes is always a ton of fun.

11:59 was also surprisingly fun? Like— three characters that have interesting dialogue patterns, a slightly darker Tony, being able to indulge in nasty Quentin without him being quite a villain, the constant shifting of emotions for everyone in the room. Just so much going on in small ways. There are totally at least three more fics set in that universe.

What’s your personal favorite thing you wrote this year?

Tough call, but probably A Perfect Fit. Really, the entire insane little universe that’s expanding into. Definitely not something I would have expected at ALL back in January.

What’s your least favorite thing you wrote this year?

Maybe Can’t, Wont? Idk. I didn’t have a strong enough idea for the prompt to really make something of it, I guess. And writing Peter/Quentin is kind of difficult at the moment. It feels weird because I’ve spent so much time in the world of Gotcha that other takes on the characters are odd.

If you could go back and change something about one of the fics you wrote this year, what would it be?

Probably Want What I Want. I knew what I wanted and I just couldn’t quite make it function. So I went with a slantwise version of it - which isn’t bad, but doesn’t have the focus I wanted it to. It felt like more of a twist on the prompt than I wanted. I’d like to go back and expand it out, dig into the specifics of the prompt a little more.

And tbh, I got a comment on that very point. I’m normally really good about letting go of comments? But it was something I’d questioned myself, so it stuck more.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

(Just) Waiting Around? Maybe? As much as I love top/experienced!Peter, I had to sit down and figure out how I might be able to actually get him there, convince the reader that this was a Peter that current Peter could become.

And any of the Tony/Quentin fics. There’s not a lot given for Quentin in canon; taking those little bits and trying to follow them back to these younger version of Quentin was really interesting and difficult. How do I make this character the softer, more open, more vulnerable, less confident version of himself from 10/15 years ago, and still keep those sharper edges that will grow and take over? How do I make the reader believe both that this version could have existed and that version could actually become the canon one?

Story that was most different from what you usually write:

I mean, Relief? I’ve never written het before (and probably never will again, lol), but I wasn’t going to let the chance to write redwings pass me by.

In general, all the freaking ABO. Which I’d never written before this fandom, though I’ve read tons of it. Not something I really expected to write? And then suddenly I’m not just writing it, I can’t seem to stop.

Sustain felt pretty different, and it took me a moment to figure out why (don’t laugh at me!). I’ve never written straight up non-sexual kink before. Not just a kink scene that doesn’t have sex, but a kink scene that doesn’t even have the intention or desire for sex. Completely removing that additional layer of tension and complications is fascinating. I’m really interested in expanding that verse.

Most unintentionally telling story:

Oh, other than Gotcha, lol? Um. I don’t know if any really are? Maybe Backhand, or Sustain. Hmm, maybe Getting Started, though it’s not finished.

Now I wonder what conclusions those have people drawing.

What’s your favorite piece of description or narration?

Oh my god, what an impossible question. Uh. This is difficult because I… think of images in words? I feel very odd about the bits I picked, Idk.

It’s so small, and I don’t know if I captured it as well as it is in my head, but I come back to it so often:

Stark sits on the bed, and then seems to get lost, or distracted, not moving again until Phil pushes him gently towards the middle of the bed. He gets Stark curled up on his side, just a sliver of his back touching the sheets.

There's a chair against the wall that doesn't look too modern, so hopefully more comfortable than most of the monstrosities around here; Phil has a feeling he's going to be here a while, watching Stark come back up. He stands, about to walk away when there's a soft touch on his hand. He looks down.

Stark's arm is stretched out, his fingers just barely resting on the back of Phil's hand. He's looking up at Phil out of the corner of his eyes, head just barely turned towards him. It's a clear a request as anything spoken; stay.

"I'm not leaving," Phil tells him. "I'm not even leaving the room. I was just going to get a chair.'

There's a breath, a hesitation, Stark's hand not leaving his, and then it's gone, Stark dragging it back in, turning his face into the pillow. That was the wrong response, something about it was just... wrong.

"Stark," Phil says, leaning onto the bed. "Do you want me to stay here? On the bed? I wasn't sure you'd be comfortable with that." After all, this doesn't seem to be at all sexual for him.

Stark doesn't say anything—Phil's not entirely sure if he's nonverbal or not—but he turns his face back towards Phil a little. Doesn't quite look at him, and doesn't make a move; he's not going to ask again, not after what he obviously took as a rejection. His reactions are odd, not much like Phil had expected.

- Sustain

Or:

Beck gets Peter turned around, still kneeling but settled back against Beck's legs, leaning into it. "Toss me his shirt," he says, and Tony throws it at his face, Beck managing to catch it before it connects. Laughs, like this is fucking funny. He slips his hand into Peter's hair and tugs his head back a bit, wiping the come off his face.

"Take five, baby," Beck says, and Peter hums, resting his head on Beck's thigh and staring at Tony. Beck's petting him, hand sliding slowly though Peter's hair, and it's a fucking nightmare that Beck knows what that feels like and Tony doesn't. "You see?" Beck says. "He likes it a little rough. A lot rough, sometimes, so don't worry about hurting him. Don't worry when he cries," and Tony glares at him.

Beck's looking down at Peter, though, and then Tony is too. He's turning red again as Beck talks, but he's not denying anything, and not looking away from Tony.

Beck's hand trails down Peter's neck, hooks around the front and pulls him back; Peter's head tips back, exposing the whole of his throat to Beck's hand. "He's a little embarrassed by it," Beck says, "but he's an awfully sweet submissive too. Aren't you, honey?"

Peter looks up at him, his expression soft, open. "Yes, sir," he says, and Jesus Christ, Tony had no idea how much he wants Peter to say that to him. Peter likes it too, not just giving it lip service judging by the way his cock is getting hard again. Beck smiles.

"I'm going to miss you," he says. "You've been a lot of fun, baby." He looks up, catching Tony's eye, a smirk growing slowly on his face. "Guess I'd better make sure the last time makes up for it."

- 11:59

What’s your favorite piece of dialogue you wrote this year?

I mean, I’m very fond of Hang Up, it’s like 85% dialogue.

Alternatively:

"Looks like you're finally ready to be fucked," Tony says. "Bets on if you'll come on my cock, or if I'll have to give you a reach around with this?" settling the gauntlet on Quentin's hip.

"No," Quentin says, shaking his head as much as he can manage, "no, no, Tony—"

Tony leans in, thighs pushing Quentin's legs apart, the head of his cock bumping up against Quentin's ass. "If you manage it just once without my hand," he whispers, ducking his head and rubbing his beard over Quentin's shoulder, "I'll fund every last thing you ask for."

"No," Quentin moans, because he can't.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Tony says. "I'll make sure you can."

- Make Sure

Story with the single sexiest moment:

AHHHHHHHHH fuck this is the hardest one.

Secondhand and Gift Wrapped both have some of the hottest moments, I think:

Peter's so hard he can barely think, absolutely can't control the way his dick jumps in Quentin's hand. He doesn't want to hear about this, doesn't want to imagine Tony with Quentin at all. Doesn't want Quentin to stop.

Quentin kicks off his pants and then he's crawling up over Peter, staring down at him with that manic glint in his eyes that Peter knows well enough by now to worry about. "He fucked my face like that," Quentin says, watching him. "Kept babbling that shit and fucked my throat nearly raw. Can't you hear it, honey?" and Peter can, he can.

"Can't you imagine it?" Quentin asks, and Peter can.

- Secondhand

And:

Peter wants— he curls his fingers in Tony's hair and yanks, Tony's head hanging loosely from his hands. He looks wrecked, sweaty and his whole face is dark, his lips wet and red and puffy, all from Peter's cock. When he opens his eyes, it's like he's not even seeing Peter, completely lost in his own little world; he's stiffening slowly, his spine rounding and he tries to brace himself, his eyes going wider and his breath getting shorter and— and is he about to come, Peter wonders. Is he really going to come just like this, from being fucked like this?

He is, he totally fucking is because a moment later Tony stops breathing entirely, his head jerking hard against Peter's hold, his whole body jerking as he comes. He gasps, eyelashes fluttering, and Peter can feel Tony's come landing on his legs, holy shit.

Pepper eases her thrusts, sinking into Tony and just rocking against him while he comes. Waits until he's gone limp, sunk down even more between her hands and Peter's; "Peter," she says. "Get a good grip on him for me. He gets all wiggly afterwards and I'm not done."

- Gift Wrapped

But if it comes down to what is probably my favorite -

Peter had already been pretty out of it when Tony came back, already wound up and just existing, no thoughts and no worries, nothing but want and feeling and response. He’d already been awfully close to flying, and this— this drops him over the edge, completely.

Some part of his head is aware of the way he’s thrusting up into Tony’s mouth, Tony taking it happily, drooling around him; is aware that Peter’s tossing his head back and forth, fighting against Rhodey’s tight grip on his hair, only making it worse with every yank. Is even a little aware that the others must be watching him, watching them, watching just like Rhodey’s looking down at him, Tony looking up, their gaze so heavy on Peter he can feel it, just like he can feel everything, every touch and every texture and every single spot his body is in contact with anything. Can feel everything, too much, overwhelming, amazing, and he doesn’t know if it’s that, or the pain of Rhodey’s grasp, or the wave crashing down on him as he comes that have him crying. Maybe it’s all of them, or maybe it’s just that he’s wanted like this, kept and held and wanted.

Rhodey kisses him, gently, and Tony crawls up over him; kisses Rhodey and kisses Peter and Peter could stay just like this forever. He can see Tony’s mouth moving, talking to him, then Rhodey, then him again, but his head is full of nothing but static, white noise.

- Flaunt

(So, uh, what does it say that all of those are threesomes?)

Stories I haven't yet written, but intend to:

SO MANY. Beyond the fics I’ve got going for other people and Gotcha, and the (hopefully) one off continuations of kinktober fics, I really want to focus on -

The rest of Deep End (I know it all exactly!)

The sad AI Peter/Tony, real!Peter/Tony

Branches of Aegis

ONE of my longer ABO pieces.

Fluffuary & Kinktober, again.

Fingers crossed. I don’t even want to think about how many more ideas will come creeping in.

#end of year #unsettled rambles #starker #spiderio #quentony

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lunnamars · 4 years ago

Note

LuNa prompt: a little quiet moment between them, maybe after the fishmen island arc?

Yes, it took me a while. I’m sorry, but I’m still having some writing problems. However, that’s what I was able to come up with, so I hope you like it! By the way, I chose the party at the end of FI because after they leave, everything starts to be really rushed.

The gates of the Ryuuguu Palace were open for them as if the Strawhats were their true royalty, their only saviors. Or their heroes, as they have been calling them the whole day, and, in particular, right now at Luffy's face.

He is fuming. Nami could see by the frown in his face and the white knuckles of his hand. She has been watching him arguing with a Fishman for a while and couldn’t help setting free a soft smile. The red-haired had missed him so much that she couldn't put it into words.

Two years. Two long years.

Two lonely years without hearing him scream for meat, or trying to make her mind to go to a definitely dangerous island under the pretext of being a simple adventure, or even without seeing his sleepy face early in the morning.

She missed him and there is too much longing in her chest.

All of them would be off to yet another adventure soon and things would be crazy as it has always supposed to be. Nami just needs a few minutes before chaos comes knocking at their door.

She asks the assistance of two mermaids to help her change from her flounder to the one where Luffy is still arguing with the man. It’s comforting to see him being childish again and throwing tantrums around. This makes her feel at home as if she’s in her bed in Cocoyasi Island or under Belle-mère loved tangerines. Luffy and the crew are her second family and second home after all.

And Luffy is definitely her safe haven.

Nami approaches her exasperated captain, bonking his head, while thanking the Fishman for his kind words and "no, we're not heroes, we did for our friends, please don’t call us hero again unless you want my captain to beat you up, thank you very much".

The poor (and now scared) Fishman leaves and Luffy deliberately slumps to the ground, angrily pouting and attacking a chunk of meat. How the hell I ended up following this kind-hearted moron?

So she calmly sits down and locks him in an embrace from behind. Nami feels him wobble, but she rests her head on the back of his head anyway, her breath tickling his shoulders. Then mumbles, loud enough for only him to hear and low enough to not attract any attention to their conversation, "Luffy, can I stay here for a moment?"

He looks over his shoulders, the meat now forgotten, "Hm? Okay."

Then Nami inhales deeply, thinking her words carefully, putting all the sentences together in the same way she has practiced since the day they all met again, adjusting the tone of her voice and finally, calming her anxious heart.

She does take a while because Luffy is about to turn around when he mutters, "Nami—".

Nami hugs him tighter and replies, annoyed. "Shh. Lemme speak."

Luffy has no idea how nervous she is, but complies anyway, "Mm-hm. Okay."

Then she closes her eyes and sighs. "I missed you."

"Ah! Shishishi, me too—"

"Shut up and lemme speak, you idiot", he clamps his mouth shut and nods, letting her continue, "I'm sorry, Luffy. For everything. I… I wished I was there, by your side. I'm your freaking navigator and I— I wasn’t there."

Luffy raises his hand and pats her head, and she can feel the comforting gesture. The captain doesn’t say a word as she demanded, so his hand is the only indication he is listening to her attentively. He’s still amazing with people.

Warm skin under her palms makes her cuddle more until she feels the scar in his chest. A memory of a bad incident, forever engraved in his body. Nami opens her eyes, wide in complete shock — she had seen it the moment they all got together again, but she hadn’t felt it.

Then she’s trembling and crying, almost sobbing out of control, "I'm so sorry, Luffy, I'm so so sorry—"

The complete opposite of what she meant to do. Great, Nami. You did everything you promised not to do, she thought. Luffy stops stroking her hair and his hands envelop hers, halting the way Nami is almost scratching the skin in his chest as if she could remove that X mark.

Maybe one day, if she uses the right amount of force, she’ll be able to tear that scar off, along with the pain that was inside. Who knows.

"There wasn't a day,” a sob, “I didn't think about you, Luffy,” another uncontrolled sob, “Not a single day I wasn't worried about you. I’m sorry. I really am."

Maybe Luffy decided that enough is enough and disentangles her hands from his torso; Nami is instantly startled, afraid that she might have crossed a line, but already with an apology in the tip of her tongue when her unpredictable captain simply turns around, embracing her with his soothing arms and heart.

“Nami. It’s okay. It has already happened and it’s in the past,” Luffy steps away a little so he could wipe her remaining tears and continues, “I’m here. I got hurt, but I’m here, you moron.”

Then Luffy holds her face with both hands and kisses her temple lightly. So simple and so lovable that Nami doesn’t how to react. There’s too much noise around her, Fishmen and Mermaids singing and dancing, but the moment his lips met the side of her face, with the smell of meat and booze surrounding him, Nami wasn't able to hear anything but her heart.

Drumming in her ears to the point she could count the heartbeats.

His arms embrace her waist again and her Captain nuzzles in her hair, speaking softly and reassuringly. “We're all together again, Nami~! This time we're not splitting! Now I'm strong enough to stop that, shishishi!”

His laugh reverberates through her chest, making her smile along and the comfort resting under her skin. I guess he's drunk, but I know he means it.

All of a sudden, he squeezes her, and Nami's hands jerk. She narrows her eyes, warily and attentive to any reaction from him (as it has always been since back then), but the boy doesn’t show any other response. She only has the intensity of his hold as an indication that he has something on his mind.

Minutes pass and when Luffy doesn’t seem to free her from his hold, Nami starts to get worried. She frowns, searching for help frantically, but none of her crewmates are anywhere to be seen. The people around are so engrossed in the party and drinking, that no one notices her desperate expression. Something is wrong with her captain and she doesn’t know what it is.

Then the sobs began — one, two, three until his whole body was shaking. Now she could feel tears running down her back without a doubt and a surge of helplessness crop up under her skin. That’s really not what I was planning.

“Oe, Luffy, are you—,” Nami starts, carefully, but she can’t even finish before he’s stumbling over his words, much as she did a few minutes ago.

“Nami~~! I missed you guys so much!! I wanted to see you all again, wanted to fish with Usopp or play with Chopper and do some stupid things or even hear you scream at me for doing the said stupid things!! Nami~~!”

Luffy is crying at the top of his lungs, tears sprouting from his eyes and a snot threatening to fall. Clearly drunk. It’s a funny and gross vision, but Nami just does the same he had done for her — delicately, she wipes his tears, grabs his shirt and cleans the snot, and then kisses his forehead.

“It’s okay, Luffy. As you said, we’re all together again. You’re fine, I’m fine, we’re all fine,” she rests her forehead in his and whispers, “I’ve really missed you, I’ve really missed us all.”

He laughs and she does too. Then their bubble of serenity pops when Usopp and Chopper show up, calling out for Luffy and swinging a huge chunk of meat, as if they are trying to lure him to participate in any stupid activity they invented. The meat, obviously, catches his attention, but he stays put, waiting for Nami to set him free or not. Food is his passion, but so is the welfare of his friends.

Luffy keeps looking back and forth between her brown eyes and the juicy meat and yes, Nami is keeping him in place because she’s having fun. However, Luffy is a really required man, everyone wants a bite of him and she has already taken a lot of the famous captain’s time.

“Go ahead, Captain. Thanks for your time,” she winks at him and turns to leave with a more light heart.

But a gasp slips past her lips the moment Luffy pulls her by her wrist and stuns her by giving her a quick peck. Simple, chaste, fleeting. Nami’s lips tingle right off the bat, but the curious thing is that Luffy seems completely unaffected, might have not even noticed what he had just done. With two fingers touching her mouth, she just laughs it off while watching his back. He must be very drunk, this stupid man.

Then Luffy stops dead on his tracks and looks at her over his shoulder, saying with a very lucid voice, “I’m not, shishishi! See ya later, Nami~!” and running, happy as ever, to where Usopp and Chopper are standing.

Nami loses the count of how many times she blinked. Soon after getting out of her dazzled state, she snorts, totally flustered. Great, another thing to miss about him. Fucking dumbass.

#lunami #luffy x nami #LuNa #monkey d. luffy #cat burglar nami #fishman island #opfanfic #fanfiction #lunamars writes #send me prompts

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dumplingsspookysweeties · 4 years ago

Text

Merskeleton bitty information

Here is the information for our merskeleton (fish) bitties!

cut below for length

Blue tang (tale!sans mer bitty):

though not exactly like the fish, this merskele loves to doze on rocks either above or below the surface!

Keep him happy with any food you find tasty or let him experiment!

does well alone or with companions, though his personality tends to clash with the more belligerent bitties of all types.

Goldfish (tale!Papyrus mer bitty):

Much more energetic, intelligent, and loving than his namesake!

Loves cuddles and will happily swim in your pool with you, but keep him away from running filters! He’ll get stuck and very unhappy until he is removed from the machinery.

Loves fresh fruit! He’ll eat most anything, but giving him fruit makes him happiest.

Does best with friends, either other mer bitties or land dwellers!

Hammer (fell!Sans mer bitty):

Make sure his tank has a large structure or plant for him to sulk in.

Tends to be grouchy but will enjoy cuddles despite this behavior.

Big appetite and loves meat

does best on his own, or with a calm and resolute companion

Emperor (fell!Papyrus mer bitty):

likes to collect things (try using tiny sculptures or other objects of beauty) and decorate his tank with his collection

will be very tsundere; give him time alone with you and he’ll warm up

Barely eats, but enjoys fish

does best alone, but will also thrive as a leader in a community

Parrot (swap!Sans mer bitty):

will help other bitties, especially if they’re nervous around water.

energetic, compassionate, and talkative

likes crunchy things, and sugar

does best with friends! lots of friends or just one, either way, he’s happy

Garibaldi (swap!Papyrus mer bitty):

will snooze in the sunny side of the tank or watch TV from a comfy spot

calm, patient, and kind

enjoys sweets and gooey things to eat (honey, gummies, smores etc)

can do well alone or in a group, but doesn’t like confrontation

Lion (fellswap!Sans mer bitty)

wants to smash stuff! give him toothpick sailboats and popsicle stick galleons to destory

tends toward mischief, but is a protective bitty once trust is earned

enjoys meat and fish

best on his own or with one other bitty. not a social butterfly.

Wright (fellswap!Papyrus mer bitty)

very large when having lived with a loving owner, so he may need to be moved to a tub or pond after a year or so.

gentle, thoughtful, and calm

prefers shrimp, or other small, easily chewable things.

best on his own or with one other bitty. tends to be shy.

Scorpion (swapfell!Sans mer bitty):

likes action! Needs toys and lots of play.

bright, bouncy, and impulsive

he’ll try anything once, so let him feel out his favorite foods for himself

does best with lots of friends! especially responsible and level headed ones.

Indigo (swapfell!Papyrus mer bitty):

likes to collect shiny things and either decorate his home or his body with them.

fast talker, flirty, and a trickster

likes pizza, if you let him have some. otherwise, shrimp and fish are a good idea

does best alone or with people who won’t fall for his tricks

Fisher (Horror!sans merbitty):

These mers are meat eaters, and they prefer to hunt but in absence of live prey will eat raw meat. Your other bitties are safe since there isn’t any meat in a monster. House them in a tank with others, but make sure they know to give him his space for a while and not to mess with his food. He may also try to take the meat from other carnivorous mers, but won’t waste the energy to fight for it. Feed everyone as usual and if he steals some, gently scold him and give another piece to the bitty he stole from.

He’ll be snarky and sarcastic, tending toward dark humor and morbid puns, but otherwise a fun personality to talk with. He should get along well with Hammers and Garibaldis and other jokester types, though he’ll rub the kinder ones the wrong way with how casually he talks about death and injury. They’ll likely have a tentative, tense friendship or tolerance.

Gulper (horror!Papyrus merbitty):

These gangly, long tailed mer bitties swallow their meals whole and enjoy resting afterward, so having a safe, secluded place in the tank for him is recommended. When not resting, he’ll be very energetic and playful, even, especially if he has a Fisher to bond with. they prefer whole fish, so sardines are a good idea for feeding, but only one or two. He may ask for more, but you’ll know he’s had enough when his tail turns from translucent to opaque. Otherwise, he’ll eat himself sick.

He’ll lean into your attentions, and enjoy time being pet and loved on. He’ll get along with most any bitty, mer or otherwise, but is wary of more aggressive housemates. His body may be long and flexible, but it’s also delicate, so fights aren’t a good idea.

Frills (horrorswap!Papyrus merbitty)

Another carnivore, he likes smaller chunks of raw meat. As a shark-ish mer bitty, he’ll move around a lot, but after a few circles of his tank, chatting with other bitties as he goes, he’ll settle down and nap for a while. Don’t hand feed until he’s adjusted to your home, because his teeth are very very painful if they bite you.

He’ll let you pet and love on him, but be respectful of his wishes. He most likely won’t want you anywhere near the opening in his skull. Just let him place your fingers at first when offering affection, and soon you’ll learn your individual Frills’ favorite places for pets and rubs.

Leafy (horrorswap!Sans merbitty)

One of the only seahorse type bitties, Leafies enjoy hiding in plant material inside the tank. They’re not big eaters, only needing one or two fresh shrimp or bits of fish a day, but they do need some special care thanks to their open ribcage. All Leafies are born with complete skeletons, but as they grow, pieces of their ribs break away naturally until they’re open as a Crinkle bitty would be. It makes them just as nervous, thus they always come with some rib shields in their starter kits.

They’ll be more energetic if in the presence of a Frills, or another swap!papyrus type merbitty. Even alone, they’ll still enjoy play and very gentle petting. Be sure to pay him lots of attention and remind him you love him often.

Tendril (Horrorfell!Papyrus merbitty)

These bitties have long floating tentacles and tend to enjoy a darker tank than most bitties. He’ll need lots of room to spread out.

He’s pretty even tempered, and will eat any sort of fish or shrimp you offer. Does best if he’s either alone, or with a very small number of other bitties.

Scales (horrorfell!Sans merbitty)

Nervous and leaning toward violence to defend himself, these bitties need solitude or the company of calm bitties to feel safe. He eats meat of any kind, though obviously, being aquatic, he prefers fish or crustaceans. (he looks adorable crunching on crab legs)

He tends to stick close to a leader, whether the person in charge of the group of bitties he’s in or his owner, or more likely a Tendril or other Papyrus type.

Vision and Mirage - (dream and nightmare)

these lovely fishies like shellfish, and they will help with fears. Visions specialize in giving positive energy so you can face your fears, while Mirages help you understand where your fear comes from and remind you that bravery is not having no fear, but continuing in spite of it. They’ll happily swim with you in any pool, pond, or lake, but will be happy to come back home to their tank and the little hiding places they call their beds. Place these hiding places close together, though, since they will want to quickly be in contact with their brother on waking for any reason.

Dark Mirages:

will turn from a black and white clownfish tail to a vampire squid body. There will be spines inside his tentacles and they will be incredibly painful if latched onto you. He will also cause an instant panic attack if touched skin to skin or with very thin gloves. He will try to damage your fingers by squeezing them, so keep your fingers together when handling him. It will take time, but Mirages are (marginally) easier to make Safe.

Pastel (ink sans) -

His colorful magic makes him stand out in the tank, and he tends to occasionally cough up ink balls when overexcited. Prefers lots of space and things to engage his mind in his tank. Prefers vegetables but will take anything. His bones are textured like a scrimshaw etching and he likes to color them with different dyes.

Bluebell (error sans)-

merbitties similar to the Man-o-war jellyfish, they have to have antivenom in their starter kits in case of accidents. Their tendrils are beautiful, but painful to encounter, and it takes them quite a while to get used to their new owners. They’re generally quiet, and prefer to eat fish.

Fanmouth (underworld mer Sans)

- will need careful cleaning of his mouth fans once a month

- enjoys shrimp and small fish

- only one fanmouth per tank, or fighting will happen.

- heavy for his size

- will happily lay on your chest for his out-tank time

- won’t speak, but can emote well and learn sign

Stickies (underworld mer Papyrus)

- will stick to the side of a tank

- filter feeder when without a host

- will cuddle, but may attempt to latch onto your arm or chest.

- if he does, let him do his business (it won’t hurt) and then put him back when he detaches himself. treat the abrasion with disinfectant and a bandage, and it should fade in a day or two. may itch a bit.

Conesnail (underworld swap mer Papyrus)

-venomous if mishandled, use caution and gentleness

- feed on small fish or shrimp

- can survive longer out of water thanks to his shell

- does have a pelvis tucked up in his shell

- will sign for things he wants if you don’t understand his gestures

Ring (underworld swap mer Sans)

- tank cleaner

- feeds on the algae and debris in the tank naturally but needs supplemental bits of fish about twice a week

- will use his broken ribs as spears to prevent someone from harming him; these spears are coated in neurotoxin.

- if treated gently, is completely safe and actually enjoys cuddles from his owners

-gets their type name from the little sticky magic ring on their bellies that lets them stay in place

Frogfish (undertomb sans)

· Had tiny little fin-feet that he walks around on the tank floor with

· Big bulky body

· Larger than average for a mer, and heavier, too.

· Uses suction to get his food in his mouth

Ribbon (undertomb papyrus)

· Long squiggly body, delicate

· Curious and energetic

· Likes a well decorated tank with many plants and caves he can hide in

· Will try to sing to you, use earphones as needed

#mer bitties #bitty info #bittybones

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batbirdies · 4 years ago

Note

B, C, and F? (If I may ask for more than one :)

Of course you can! :D Sorry it took me so long to answer this after being like Please send me asks!! lol. But I always feel like I want to answer them well and I needed my computer to do that. SO.

Fanfic Ask Game

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

I thought about this and...not really? I would say like a lot of writers I base a lot of things off of like, how I’ve felt. But no, no personal experience has inspired any of my stories. I have a mostly boring life lol.

C: What member do you identify with most?

This is kind of hard! I feel like I identify with all of them in a lot of ways. But I think mostly Jason. Even though I disapprove of his actions like...a lot, I feel like i understand him on a basic level and I empathize big time. Nothing makes me angrier than when I feel like someone is being mistreated, or that something is unfair.

The second person might be Bruce lol. Which is probably why i’m thoroughly attached to Good Dad!Bruce. But I’m an awkward bean who’s not good with feelings and I empathize heavily with never knowing what to say in emotional situations.

Sometimes I read people’s comments on fics where Bruce struggles with overcoming this type of thing and one of this kids has to sort of shove him in the right direction, and they laugh at his incompetence or roll their eyes at it and I’m just in the corner like “well that’s just not very nice!!”

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This one.....SO HARD. I knew what scene I wanted to take something from but an actual chunk of the conversation was hard lol. I would say it comes from the scene with Dick and Jason in the library in chapter 20 of CCAKT.

“Just spit it out Dick,” Jason might’ve actually sounded as exhausted as he felt.

Dick frowned but he gave a curt nod before continuing, voice more confident this time. “I’m worried you’re going to cut yourself off again.”

Jason didn’t say anything at first, but he couldn’t stop his fists from clenching in the fabric of his sweats. “I’m not….” He started, not knowing where he was going with the sentence.

“I know I told you you’d have all of us on your side and you do. But…” His expression shifted again, eyebrows turning down at the edges making him look even more tired. “I know how easy it is not to ask for help when you’re by yourself.” And then his voice went even quieter, “or how you can convince yourself that asking would just be burdening everyone.”

Jason swallowed tightly, steadfastly avoiding eye contact while he refused to acknowledge the truth of the statement. His stomach twisted for the thousandth time. He was beginning to feel like a wind up toy, anymore tension and his working parts would snap.

It didn’t help that he was already feeling that way with Dick, or that the man was obviously speaking from experience, because how was he supposed to want to put this on him after that?

“I just think if you’re here, there will always be people around, to check on you and-“

“I don’t need to be checked on every second of the day.” It was a reflexive, back biting comment, the Pit flaring with his voice. Agitation crawled over his skin like ants, making him flush for how stupid he knew he sounded.

This whole conversation between them was REALLY hard to write. I think I rewrote it at least 3 times and it changed drastically from beginning to finished product. But I ended up being really happy with it and super glad I took the time to redo it until I was. So it’s not anything particularly special I was just proud of myself for struggling with it and still managing to make it something I liked in the end.

Anyway thank you for the ask!!! I had fun answering this 😊

#batbirdies answers #asks #a-sketchy-character #fanfiction ask game

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yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy · 4 years ago

Text

Why So Jaded Chapter 11

Oh it’s getting to be a family affair now. AO3, FFN. The chapter is called The Give For The Take for a very good reason. Enjoy.

Why So Jaded?

Chapter 11

“So were you good for Vi?” Helen asked Jack when Violet dropped him off at home on Sunday night.

“Yeah! We had a great time. We got to hang out with Barret the whole time.” Jack gleefully informed her.

“B..who?” Helen asked.

“His full name is Bartholomew Maximillian Pine, Mr. Pine, my other asset at work? We call him Barret for short.” Violet tried to honestly yet vaguely answer.

“Oh, but I thought he was on house arrest at SEB for the bet he made?” Helen asked.

“He is, so we hung out with him. He helped Jack with his school project about radio waves because the Lord knows I couldn’t.” Violet informed her mother.

“And he’s friends with Evan’s mom! You know Evan- he usually goes to Milham park with his little brother Alex and his little sister Kaely? Tammy has short bobbed hair cut, brown hair.” Jack tried to jog his mom’s memory.

“Oh yeah! Tammy. She’s really nice.” Helen recalled.

“Well I got invited to Evan’s birthday party in a couple of weeks, can I go? It’s on the 18th. They’re having it at Scene It.” Jack pleaded.

“I could take him if you already had plans.” Violet offered as Helen looked at her calendar on her fridge.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Helen appraised.

“We’re supposed to be taking Jr and Dillion that weekend.” Bob said as he came over and looked at the calendar.

“Yeah who did Dash spend his weekend with anyway?” Violet asked as both of her parents just shook their heads with a defeated sigh.

“Who knows.” Bob grumbled as he got a beer from the fridge.

“So tell me about Barret, Jack.” Bob invited.

“He’s awesome! He cooks so good, like Bobby Flay, like he made us all these amazing dishes from scratch and he showed me how to make a risotto, he’s a genius and an inventor and he explained radio waves to me and I should be getting an A on this project. And he’s actually really nice and sucks at cards. I demolished him at rummy but he was a really gracious loser and a good sportsman, he has no ego and he’s not the most handsome guy but his personality is awesome, just a really nice, easy going guy.” Jack appraised honestly.

“And that’s why we’re friends.” Violet added.

“Aww, that’s sweet.” Helen cooed as she got dinner ready as Bob simply nodded and retreated to the living room with his can of beer as Jack followed his dad and continued to sing Barret's praises, in an effort to get his dad to at least like the idea of Barret.

“Can you stay for dinner Vi?” Helen asked hopefully.

“I’d love to. Here, let me help.” Violet offered as she grabbed some potatoes and started to help peel them.

“So what’s Barret really like?” Helen asked as they stood side by side over the trashcan peeling potatoes.

“He’s genuine. And a gentleman. We ended up staying really late Friday because we just got caught up talking and getting to know each other, and by each other, his company and myself. Jack obviously knew Barret’s company and played nice with the other kids and it was just a nice dinner that I got to stay for and it was just...hanging out with friends. They’re just normal people. Like normal normal, with kids and mortgages and student loan debt. Anyway, Barret didn’t want me to drive home exhausted so he let Jack and I take his bed while he took his own couch. He was just..really nice. He never pushes for closeness or intimacy of any kind, he's down to earth whereas with Phil it’s just one head game after another when his head isn't crammed so far up his own ass it comes back out the other end again or when his head gets so big, it can't be contained inside Madison Square Gardens because it's a freaking blimp and his ego is as fragile as a hanging nut sack, it's a very nice and welcome change of pace. It was actually almost fun to just be casual and hang out and not watch the clock to count down the minutes until I’m free. And not having to always watch my back and watch the exits and think of exit strategies or expecting attacks every other second or worrying about doing or saying the wrong thing that’ll bite me in the ass later, like turning off for once instead of always being on you know?” Violet answered honestly.

“Well I’m glad you had a good weekend and it sounded like you spent it with a friend. You need more of those.” Helen noted as she smiled at her daughter.

“Thanks, so. How was your weekend?” Violet returned.

“It was so fun. We ended up doing a gig upstate and after we got a cabin and just got to relax after, it was great.” Helen sighed happily as Violet simply smiled, albeit a little sadly. Because she doubted she would ever get to enjoy the wedded bliss her parents enjoyed. If she lived long enough to get married that is.

Just then Dash came into the house.

“Oh good, I didn’t miss dinner.” Dash smiled happily as his stomach started to growl.

“If you’re gonna help eat it, you should help make it.” Violet urged.

“But you two do it so well, I would only be in the way.” Dash excused himself as he grabbed beer from the fridge and started chugging it.

“You look really nice by the way Violet, green is definitely your color.” Dash praised as she squeezed by them to get to the box of cookies on the counter.

“I’m not giving you any more money, you still haven’t paid me back from the last three times I gave you money.” Violet immediately insisted when Dash tried hugging her from behind.

“Who said anything about money?” Dash pretended to be appalled that Violet would insinuate that.

“No one, and it will not be brought up again.” Violet insisted and she could only smirk smugly when he huffed and pulled away from her sullenly.

“So which underwear catalog model were you with this weekend Dash?” Violet asked.

“Victoria’s Secret, with Bianca.” Dash grinned cheekily with a click of his teeth as Violet visibly gagged.

“For the love of God and all that holy, please tell me you wore a condom.” Helen urged.

“Uh I think we should be asking Violet if she’s been wearing condoms when she was with Phillip in Vegas of all places, I’m surprised she didn’t come back married as Mrs. Sebastian.” Dash snidely returned as he began to walk away and Violet’s eyes glowed ultraviolet for a moment as her anger started to build.

“First of all, that’s none of your business, second, that was work and well within the parameters of my contract, third, considering my track record, as opposed to yours, who has not one, but two children already by two different women? And they’re only six months apart? And don’t you pay enough in child support already? You really want to add a third payment?” Violet spat back.

“Well some of us don’t roll around in money Violet! Besides, aren’t you paying enough in rent at Sky Way?” Dash sneered condescendingly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you know if you could keep it in your pants for more than five minutes, you’d be able to afford to live there too, don’t you get enough in endorsements between Nike, Body Armor and all your White Lightning merch and endorsements? Just up your appearance fees or better yet, if you- you know, invested some of that money instead of spending it faster than you’re making it, you’d be able to live wherever you wanted to.” Violet returned defensively.

“I do invest it, it’s just not getting the same returns your money makes apparently.” Dash returned.

“Oh my God, will you two stop it! Ugh, aren’t your kids supposed to get along once they leave home?” Helen complained.

“Dash, just go to the living room, dinner will be ready in a bit.” Helen decided.

“Stuck up.” Dash muttered under his breath.

“Leech.” Violet spat back.

“If he moves back in you better be charging him rent.” Violet insisted to her mother.

“Oh trust me, he’ll never move back in because I would never let him bring home another woman other than the two he's already impregnanted and when he wasn’t working, he’d be watching his own kids.” Helen reassured her.

“And heaven forbid he not have a revolving door on his bedroom.” Violet spat.

“I’m still holding out hope that he’ll find the right girl and settle down.” Helen confessed.

“Yeah, somehow, I get the distinct impression that will happen to Jack before that ever happens with Dash.” Violet ventured as she took her now peeled potatoes and rinsed them off in the sink before she got a cutting board out and started cutting up the now peeled potatoes into bite sized chunks.

“Well it just might happen with you before it could happen with Jack.” Helen teased as she bumped Violet’s hip with her own as she put her own peeled and rinsed off potatoes next to the cutting board.

“Ha! No.” Violet returned.

“Well I mean Barret sounds promising.” Helen shrugged and all Violet could do was laugh even harder.

“Yeah, no, I sincerely doubt that’s ever going to be a possibility.” Violet shook her head no.

“Why not?” Helen asked.

“Uh, well, he has quite the storied past. Granted, he isn’t the same guy he was, say, a decade ago, but uh, there’s too much history there.” Violet hinted.

“Like what kind of history?” Helen prodded.

“The kind that got him...really really hurt. In every conceivable sense. He made some really bad decisions in early youth, youth, teens and early adulthood and granted he pays for them, just about every day. But…it’s very complicated.” Violet tried to choose her words carefully.

“Everyone has history Violet. Doesn’t mean it has to haunt us the rest of our lives.” Helen insisted but Violet just huffed a mirthless laugh again. If that were the case, she wouldn't have such a hard time sleeping in the first place, or wake up in a cold sweat screaming her head off half the time.

“How old is he again?” Helen asked.

“He’s 31, seven years my senior.” Violet answered.

“Well that’s not that big of an age difference, especially once you pass your early 20’s, now if he was like 15 or even 20 years older than you, then yeah, that would be an eyebrow raiser of a difference.” Helen figured as she went into her fridge and got a wine cooler and offered Violet one who gladly took it and opened it and started drinking it.

“So what makes it so complicated?” Helen posed.

“Uh, well besides the history. Just our...positions. Phillip keeps me on a short leash and it’s only because I’ve “mixed business with pleasure” that I have any breathing room now. Phillip is jealous and possessive enough that...to pursue anything with anyone while I’m still under contract is a very bad idea and too dangerous. Phillip has a way of reaching out and touching people, and not in any kind of good way. And Barret is also under contract and his contract is even longer and more severe than mine. But we are…” Violet paused as she tried to decide on the best words to use.

“We’ve grown close to being friends because we’re just...two birds, in side by side gilded cages.” Violet finally murmured lowly as she finely diced the potatoes as she realized they should boil these and make mashed potatoes.

“So what has he done to incite you to view him like that?” Helen posed as she rinsed off some asparagus in the sink as another vegetable for dinner.

“He’s healing me.” Violet answered honestly.

“Like emotionally or physically?” Helen asked.

“The latter, the former is probably impossible.” Violet specified.

“Like with your central cortex?” Helen posed.

“Yep, he used his genius and formulated my current medication, he got me in front of the curve instead of always chasing behind it. It’s like I’m a teenager again, before any of it ever hurt and I can use my powers for hours instead of mere minutes before the pain sets in and the longer I'm on it, the better. I’m actually sleeping at night because of the sleep aids he’s made for me, granted for anyone else, they’d put them into a permanent coma but for me, they’re just right. I’ve shared them with Tali and they’re curing her too and even all the other Supers at The Agency with the same problem. Grated Phillip makes The Agency pay through the nose for theirs but for now they’re free for me and Barret is risking everything to get me my own protected supply that Phillip can’t touch or better yet, control, just in case Phillip tries to hold them over my head to keep me in line, which I wouldn’t push past him. Barret even made a suit that should protect me and everyone I protect that has features that every Super will want and every Super who is a handler will need. And he gives without any thought or want or need to be paid back. Even when he has so little, he’d give it all before ever being asked. He’s helping me with Dragon Eye, he’s...he’s an unlikely ally and an even unlikelier friend.” Violet explained as Helen’s eyebrows rose in surprise to hear of these developments. Granted, she didn’t like Phillip as far as she could punt him either. Something about Phillip put her on edge and had her own intuition telling her something was wrong with him and that he was much more dangerous than he looked but she couldn’t put her finger on it or explain it. She got the sense he was a sleezeball and Helen would have never forgiven Violet if Violet had come home from Vegas as Mrs. Sebastian.

“Sounds like a pretty awesome guy to me Vi.” Helen shrugged with a knowing grin.

“He is. He just...has an unfortunate past.” Violet answered.

“Was he in the mob or something?” Helen guessed lowly.

“Uh, no, not that I’m aware of.” Violet shook her head.

“Is he a serial killer?” Helen teased as Violet huffed a mirthless laugh again.

“Technically I’m a serial killer Mom.” Violet answered in all seriousness and honesty.

“Oh no you’re not. You’re a Super, no Super has clean hands, on either side but you're on the good side. Guilty blood saves innocent blood, and it's because of that guilty blood that you've saved countless innocents which more than makes up for it.” Helen assured her daughter.

“Even if my hands have the blood of other Supers on them?” Violet posed.

“Yes.” Helen insisted.

“Not all Supers are good people, and not all Supers are heroes. You’ve gotten your hands dirty trying to keep the world safe and everyone else clean, you’ve had to make the tough decisions and the hard choices. But they were the right ones. If it was easy, everyone could do it. But you’re special and you’re one of the good guys, if not one of the best. You’re the best kind of hero, one that doesn’t need to constantly be in the spotlight and have every good deed praised by the masses, unlike others we know.” Helen reassured her as Helen gave the living room a dismissive glance.

“I doubt you’d give Barret the same speech because his hands have just as much Super blood on them that mind do.” Violet posed with a disbelieving look as Helen was taken aback.

“Ok, now you’re scaring me. Who is Barret?” Helen asked in all seriousness.

“Google him, Google- Bartholomew Maximillian Pine, just don’t scream or yell when you find out and don’t tell Dad, the last thing I need is for Dad to go Papa Bear and kill him before I can get Dragon Eye off my plate.” Violet answered before Helen got her phone out of her back pocket and googled it.

“Why does he look familiar?” Helen asked as she looked at the images of him that came up.

“Cross reference Buddy Pine, aka Syndrome.” Violet said before Helen sharply inhaled through her nose as her eyes got impossibly wide.

“See? Do you see why I didn’t want tell you? Because of this reaction right here.” Violet insisted.

“I...I thought he was in a wheelchair? After the accident with the jet turbine.” Helen finally spoke.

“He was in a wheelchair, he was in one for a few years after that accident and had to be put together and get surgery after surgery to be made somewhat whole again, it was why he didn’t go to prison after Syntech crashed and burned as did Syndrome. But Barret has assured me that Syndrome died in that jet turbine and it’s beyond clear to me that he is telling me the truth and he shows me that that's the truth by his actions that he is nothing like what he once was, except for the genius inventor thing, that never changed but everything else did, you'd barely recognize him now but hearing him talk might jog your memory. Or even Dad's especially. Barret has suffered enough from all of that and especially how Tali helped tear apart and break down the very empire she helped him build and left him with nothing where he had to start from an all new low. Not only did he barely have a dollar to his name, he was left in literal pieces that had to be sewn together and be ripped apart piece by piece in every way before he put himself back together again. It’s actually impressive how he’s managed to make it this far despite all that. And even with all that history. He’s...he’s surprisingly not bitter or holding any grudges, even against Tali, because he got his ass into some much needed therapy. Here, watch this with your headphones.” Violet urged as she handed her phone to her mother and had her watch the video that she had saved to her phone as Helen put her headphones in her ear and watched the video as Violet watched her mother carefully, watching how she started off wearily then gradually went from weary to understanding then sympathetic as the video progressed.

“So, you ready to take all that back?” Violet questioned when Helen finished and handed the phone back.

“Nope. Who else has seen that?” Helen asked.

“Tali, she cried when she watched it. She said that if he had been like that a decade ago, she never would have left him, or betrayed him and has asked me to help Barret and take care of him to the best of my ability, which I have happily agreed to and Barret makes it easy for me to do so. I don't do so strictly out of obligation or because it's owed or expected. I do it because I want to. Which is a first for me, especially in this job.” Violet answered.

“Well, it’ll take some time for everyone to come around to the idea of just you being friends. I think it should only matter what people are in the present. Obviously, he’s suffered the consequences of his actions.” Helen appraised.

“He has suffered, more than enough.” Violet insisted.

“Then I trust your opinion of what he is now.” Helen insisted.

“Really?” Violet posed disbelievingly.

“Like I said, the past shouldn’t haunt us forever. And if you said Syndrome died all those years ago. And he’s a changed man, then I will trust you on that. You aren’t one to trust anyone easily. And every ounce of your trust is hard earned and if he’s earned it, and if you trusted him enough to let Jack hang out with him, because it's no secret he's your favorite, much less yourself, then that’s enough.” Helen insisted.

“So you’re not pissed that I let Jack hang out with him?” Violet asked.

“You let Jack hang out with Barret. And Barret is a good guy. That’s all that matters.” Helen insisted before Violet quickly enveloped her mom in a tight hug.

“Thank you Mom.” Violet thanked her, not realizing how much her mother's approval would mean to her or how assuring, reassuring, validating and vindicating it was to have it.

“You’re welcome.” Helen reassured her. Ever so thankful and grateful that Violet let her in on even this much.

Truth be told, Helen was resentful to The Agency for turning her daughter from a good but shy teen to a stone cold killer. When Violet had come home from a stint that took almost a year, Violet just came home and held Jack and didn’t let him go for weeks. And often took him to bed with her and cried herself to sleep holding him. Violet wouldn’t breathe a word of what really happened and what she had been doing was top secret and only the highest of higher ups even knew about it, but after that, Violet was never the same and she was fiercely protective of Jack who was only 3 at the time and she was only 17, almost 18 herself at the time as well. Thus why the two shared their current super close bond. All Helen could think of is that involved children. Maybe the target had little children that Violet left orphaned, that was the only thing that made sense to Helen and to Bob. But after that, Violet just did mission after mission, back to back to back and started earning more than her parents ever did combined. And each time she came home, less and less of herself came home with her and when Violet moved out at 18, Helen feared she would lose all contact with her, and Helen had never been more devastated when her fears proved true.

When Violet was 21, she did another really, really long mission that took over a year and Helen didn’t hear from Violet that whole time and all The Agency could tell her was that she was on mission and undercover, wouldn’t say where or with who. But whatever it was, it didn’t end well. Helen and Bob had been watching the news and three major catastrophes seemed to happen at the same time, complete with natural disasters on top of political upheaval. And then they had gotten a call from Violet from a burner phone, saying that she was done. And she was disappearing for good and that she was just calling to say goodbye.

That had been the worst of it.

To beg and plead with your only daughter to just come home, where it was safe, where she would be protected. And to have that same, oh so precious daughter inform you that she would put them in too much danger if she did that. That she couldn’t protect them. She couldn’t even protect herself. And that the danger was bigger and stronger than anything they had ever known. And that if they only knew what had really happened, they would never welcome her home anyway. And that this was for the best. And it was going to be better this way.

Then silence.

And it didn’t matter how many times Helen and Bob went back to The Agency and rallied the troops and threatened to bring hellfire down on all of them if they didn’t give them their daughter back or at least tell them where she was. They were going to hang every last person at the agency on their own bullshit lies tied into a noose around their necks. No one would tell them anything, mostly because the people there didn’t know and everyone who did was unreachable and "conveniently" overseas and completely unreachable. Bob and herself had even officially quit and retired. And had even tried looking for her on their own but never did find her because Violet had been trained to never leave a trace. And Violet was always- successful.

It wasn’t until Phillip and The Agency found her and brought her home a little over a year later that they got to see her in the flesh. And while it was a blessing having Violet back home, working a ‘normal’-ish job that was mostly 9-5 through the week with the occasional overseas trip, it still kept her here in Metroville, and kept her close and brought her back into the fold so to speak. But the real Violet, Helen feared, never did come back. Or at least the Violet that Helen could remember or recognize.

But then, about a couple of months ago, Helen noticed she started seeing glimmers and glimpses of the real Violet again, like Violet's spirit was slowly returning to her body. She was still incredibly guarded, and secretive. But she was easing up, Helen supposed, at least smiling more, and being more accessible, at least physically, emotionally though, that was another matter entirely.

But Violet did take to Dash’s kids really well when she first came back. Feeling sorry and sad that she missed out on them. It wasn’t unusual for when Helen and Bob had them for the weekend- Violet would ‘drop by’ for the weekend too, with clothes and toys in tow and doted on them the way she doted on Jack when Jack was that age since Dash Jr. was three and Dillon was two and a half at the time and now Dash Jr. was four and in preschool and Dillon was now three and a half and she got along remarkably well with Ashley, Dash Jr's mom who was Dash's high school sweetheart, and Amy, Dillon's mom, Dash's first college love. But Violet got a lot harder on Dash, making sure he always paid his child support and spent quality time with his kids and even chipped in financially with their mothers, making sure that Jr got into an amazing preschool and made sure that Dillon would too, and helping them as much as she reasonably could. And with Jack, she usually bought the bulk of his school clothes and fabrics and trim which she happily took him to the garment district and let him go nuts in the fabric warehouses, bringing home yards and yards of fabrics for his ‘creations’ and even paid for her parents to put on an addition to their house so Jack had his own studio to create in and was super encouraging to Jack with his interests, and often did all she could to help them out, either physically or especially financially and made sure to give them heads up on her schedules of when she was going to be in town or out of town so if they needed to, they could depend on her, or invite her to their own social things that they had going on.

But right now, it was Helen’s intuition telling her that the reason she was seeing more of the real Violet, was because it was Barret of all people bringing it out in her, and for that she was grateful and it was because of that, she could learn to forgive him for the past.

Monday morning Violet came into work and was surprised to see a woman in Phillip’s office already, and it was someone she didn’t recognize as she was sitting in his lap as he showed her something on his computer as her giggle got on every nerve Violet had.

“Mr. Sebastian?” Violet posed politely.

“Oh, Ms. Parr, good morning.”

“Good morning. Do we have anything new for Mr. Pine today?” Violet asked formally, since he was obviously otherwise engaged as Violet’s glasses revealed to her exactly who was sitting in his lap and so intimately embraced in it. Another ballerina. Cheseray Wilkenson, prima dancer for Villefort Dance Company.

“Yes, actually.” Phillip said as he picked up his tablet and did a swiping motion from his own tablet to hers before her tablet got the new data and Violet froze when she saw it as she blinked in surprise from her tablet then back up to Phillip.

“By the way, how is the new suit?” Phillip asked and Violet actually did well keeping the dread and fear from her eyes and her face.

“Good, so far.” Violet answered.

“Excellent. I’m happy it’s working out for you.” Phillip offered and Violet simply smiled politely in view of his ‘company’.

“Is there a problem Ms. Parr?” Phillip baited.

“No, no problem at all, will that be all Mr. Sebastian?” Violet asked.

“Yes.” Phillip nodded.

“Very well,” Violet nodded as she then went to her own office and opened her own computer case from The Agency and accessed her files before pulling up Dragon Eye and did a search for when the last time someone accessed it and her heart dropped when she saw that Phillip was the last one to look at it, Saturday night. After herself, Barret and Jack had been working it as she remembered the wave pattern from the cameras. She had been in the apartment side of the space most of the time where the cameras had only come on in a wave a few times but she had thought nothing of it, since it was going to be Nelson, Pike, Leland and Smith in the security booth but there was no way for Jack and Barret to know that they were on a wave pattern and it obviously happened way more frequently for them to figure out what they were up to. That’s how Phillip knew that they had made progress.

He knew. But she was sure she’d be forced into trying to slit her own wrists if he knew that Dragon Eye was really him.

She closed it out and looked more closely at what her tablet had received as she tried to see what was really there. Was this a test? A trick? A trap? Or just Phillip keeping up with her? Her gut was telling her something was off and something was wrong. She needed Tali’s advice and she called her on her phone.

“Yes?” Tali answered.

“Hey, can you meet me for lunch today? Please?” Violet proposed.

“Uh, yeah, sure, where did you want to go?” Tali answered.

“Don’t care, somewhere uh, private and spider free.” Violet proposed.

“Luigiano’s.” Tali suggested.

“Yup, see you at say...11:30?” Violet proposed.

“Yes, of course Dear, see you then.” Tali answered.

“Thanks.” Violet said before she hung up and quickly went to Barret’s floor.

“Good morning Ms. Parr,” Barret greeted.

“Good morning Mr. Pine, uh, you have a few new items for your agenda this week.” Violet informed him as she couldn’t wipe the confused frown off her face or the fear from her eyes to save her life as she did a wiping motion from her tablet to his and then looked at him pointedly to make sure he actually saw what was in front of him.

“Oh, huh.” Barret finally murmured as he looked it over himself, and also frowned in confusion before he looked back over to Violet before they had a silent conversation with just their subtle facial expressions before he finally reached over and tapped her hand with his knuckle three times but tried to make it look like some random twitch.

“If you don’t have any questions, I’ll leave you to it then. See you this evening Mr. Pine.” Violet formally said before she left and went back to her office before she went into her bathroom and became invisible, her clothes she had been wearing, transforming into her suit before she marched from her bathroom to Phillip’s office, only to walk in to seeing Phillip balls deep in his new ‘pet’ on his desk before she sarcastically gagged then marched straight to Barret’s floor and tapped him again, three times, in rapid succession on the shoulder when she had made it back before he ‘casually’ decided to go to the bathroom himself and once in it, he blew out a breath of relief when a forcefield suddenly enveloped them both as she reappeared before him.

“So what’s going on?” Barret asked.

“He knows we were working on Dragon Eye. I was able to see who saw Dragon Eye last. And it was him. He saw it very late Saturday night. He’s out to exploit you even more than he already is.” Violet answered anxiously as she started pace inside the bubble of the forcefield.

“Yeah but a Super would need your powers to make them invisible too. The suit is meant to work as an extension of yourself and it takes machines that take up most rooms to turn it invisible without your powers. To put the same suit on any other Super, it’s not gonna work. And even if it did, unleashing a small army of completely invisible Supers who don’t have the same moral compass you do- is dangerous, like Supervillain level of dangerous. No offense.” Barret offered.

“Oh none taken, I completely agree. Just having one of me is already too dangerous. I mean it would be nice for The Agency to have someone else for my kind of work but even I would have no way of seeing them.” Violet worried.

“Well...not...not necessarily, when you’re in the suit, when you’re invisible, if you’re wearing the hood, you could see them, you could see, in theory anything you wanted to see. If I make your suit for anyone else. There’s ways I can make them that even you can see them, all I need is to reconfigure the visor section of your suit and even reconfigure your glasses when you don’t wear the suit over your head or give you special contacts or make it so that the the nanos always recognize each other, even from a distance, even from each other’s invisibility. Like x-ray vision but I guess...not. It can be done. It’ll be tricky, but it can be done.” Barret realized as his spark was working into overdrive figuring it out.

“Here’s my other request. While you’re doing that- make my suit EMP proof. Because one of my powers is to mimic an EMP signal, it’s one of the ways I can “burn” the cameras and listening devices and other electronics. But if you could make it so that the EMP signal, knocks out other’s invisibility but keep mine intact. But I also need a way for my own SOS signal to be EMP proof. Like I want to be a thousand feet underground in a copper mine or a lead mine and the right people would still be able to find me and rescue me.” Violet proposed.

“You got it.” Barret immediately agreed.

“Thank you.” Violet thanked him as she stopped her pacing to hug him tightly.

“I think it’s a trap.” Barret confessed.

“Oh I know it’s a trap. But at this point, I need to put my bloody feet in the water to attract the shark and I need a way to set my own trap for it and to spring it at the right time. Springing it too soon and we’ll never catch him. We need a trap of our own.” Violet answered as she just clung to him as he did the same to her.

“But the thing is, if he knew Saturday night, at the time he checked, that was the time Pike was getting off and Leland was getting on, Nelson got Friday night and he made sure to destroy the evidence of the uh, incident. And all he wants is when and if you ever get to leave here alive, to take him with you.” Violet conveyed.

“Oh, yeah, that totally works, it was Nelson that got you the necklace.” Barret immediately agreed.

“Figures. But that leaves Pike or Leland to spill the beans. Pike was in the same boat that Nelson was in when I talked to them Saturday morning and according to everyone, everyone in the security detail is ready to follow you out of here. But I don’t know if Pike was just saying that to curry favor with me or if he was genuine. Nelson I believe is genuine. Pike and Leland, I wouldn’t put it past them to be two faced. So we’re just going to have to be extra careful from here on out and choose our steps carefully. And anyone’s loyalty who can be bought isn’t worth having.” Violet murmured to the crux of Buddy’s neck and shoulder as they just hung onto each other, Barret refusing to let go before Violet would and was perfectly content to just enjoy this, plus he couldn’t chance endangering her by engaging her romantically or at least emotionally when she had so much to lose before Violet finally reluctantly let him go.

“I better get out of here, just in case I’ve been gone too long.” Violet excused herself.

“Thank you.” Violet whispered as she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek just as she vanished and just as Barret was about to go ‘fuck it’ and reach out and really kiss her back, she was gone, phased through the walls and he even reached out and tried to feel for her but she was already gone.

“You’re welcome.” Barret finally breathed as he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously before he sat down and actually used the bathroom as he held his head in his hands and thought of all the ways to give her what she asked for. Electronics that were EMP proof. Ways of seeing the invisible that he had worked so hard to make invisible in the first place. But at the same time, make her own SOS beacon a lighthouse among flashlights all while doing it under Phillip’s nose and off his radar, and off The Agency’s radar.

Meanwhile Violet came back into her office’s bathroom just in time to hear Phillip calling for her once he came into her office, “redressed” in her original clothes she had been wearing before.

“Yes Phillip?” Violet asked as she held her lower belly, pretending to have just had a huge bowel movement.

“Oh, there you are. I apologize for having company earlier and not letting you have freedom of speech in front of her.” Phillip began.

“Thank you.” Violet said simply as she took her seat behind her desk.

“But now that you’re here, I take it I’m free to speak to you now?” Violet posed.

“Yes of course.” Phillip agreed as he took a seat on the other side of her desk.

“About the new suit's possible release for The Agency. I will insist that we bring Edna Mode on onboard, otherwise no Super will have anything to do with it for fear of offending her and Edna Mode is a dangerous enemy. I will take on a thousand Dragon Eyes before I piss her off and you should have the same fearful respect for her that I do, to do otherwise is to court death and social suicide in this business. Edna has been designing super-suits since supers became a phenomenon and into popularity for the last 40 years, every Super, hero and villain alike has always used Edna. She is one of a kind and she’s neutral. This will feel like a betrayal and it will feel like we’re “stealing” this from her. And if The Agency pushes this on their Supers, that will mean that the only Supers to use her will be villains and that’s a recipe for disaster. Also my suit that Mr. Pine designed, was designed with me specifically in mind, specifically for dealing with Dragon Eye. The suit's capabilities will not be available should anyone else try to put it on. So unless you plan on cloning me, which I will never agree to, it won’t work. However, let’s say Mr. Pine does devise a way to get other suits to mimic what mine can do. Do you really think that’s a good idea to hand over truly invisible suits to an Agency that could hold the entire world hostage? The Agency already controls every Hero practically world wide. Or worse yet, if just one suit falls into the wrong hands and gets replicated, every enemy now has a way to waltz into any building, into any place they wanted to and kill you or me or anyone else without a trace. One of me in the world is dangerous enough. Imagine ten of me, a hundred of me, an army of me but without my moral compass and without my ethics. There could be thousands, millions even. All invisible, all uncontrollable and pure chaos and disaster. And all of it would have your fingerprints. Can you imagine the already delicate stock market crashing and sending the whole world into a recession that we’ve never seen before? Is making a few million off of new suits for The Agency worth all your billions that you already have?” Violet posed skeptically.

“Well, when you put it like that, no.” Phillip realized.

“Now I do agree that Mr. Pine’s new suit does have certain features that would be helpful for every Super that are non power specific. Instead of selling invisible suits. Sell the features that are non power specific, sell them individually and let the Supers and The Agency pick and choose and custom build their own- with of course- Edna’s approval, and Edna's control if she would agree on redesigning anyone’s suit. Also, Edna is used to having 100% of the profits of all super-suits and working all on her own before Jack was born. Mr. Pine made mine for free as a favor to Jack and myself because he’s a good person and because we asked nicely. Well, begged and pleaded because Jack and I are desperate to get Dragon Eye because he’s been on my roster for forever but because of his own powers, no other Super but me will touch him and I would prefer to keep it that way. Dragon Eye has the ability to make people commit suicide, imagine his own army equipped with my suit. Me and every single Super at the Agency would be in danger, including you because you have clearance at The Agency, you’d be just as big of a target that I am. Do you really want to risk it?” Violet posed skeptically as she leaned back into her chair and folded her arms over her chest and crossed her legs and fixed him with a look.

“No.” Phillip decided.

“Then change this in the roster.” Violet said as she handed him her tablet.

“Also you do realize that he would have to go to The Agency and to Edna Mode’s house to work on those super suits and every moment he’s off doing that- he won’t be here working on SEB stuff so his own output for SEB will wane to a degree as will his focus since it will be divided too. However it will prove fruitful in the long run because you’ll have an in with every other Super and you’ll be even father on The Agency’s good side and an even closer bedfellow and the chances of getting premium contracts will grow. It’s just a matter of do you want the money that would usually go straight to your pocket to change hands a few times before it does?” Violet posed.

“I think it's worth it for any profits made with any endeavor with The Agency to change hands and have a chance to multiply before it comes back to me will be sizable.” Phillip answered.

“Fair. But know that you will only have a limited time for that to occur. Because once Mr. Pine is no longer under contract with you, he’ll have his own in with The Agency because of this. He used to be the most powerful and influential non Super before his fall from grace and you effectively took his place. Once he leaves, he may want a bigger piece of their pie. Be prepared to share.” Violet warned.

“Well there’s a lot of time between now and then, and accidents happen, besides you’re his heir apparent, I wouldn’t mind sharing all the pie you wanted with you.” Phillip offered and all Violet could do was huff a laugh and grin crookedly as she just shook her head. Violet would sooner slit his throat before she would slit Barret’s as Phillip mistook the roguish curve of her grin as her delight at the prospect which only made him happy that Violet was still on the ‘murder’ side of things as far as Mr. Pine was concerned. Which meant that if she did get closer to Mr. Pine, it would be purely to undo him and further devastate him in the end. Which meant he could fully trust her with him.

“Also, I noticed that you loosened up the safety protocols for Mr. Pine’s outings. Why?” Violet asked since she had him right there.

“Uh, it was a Raid Day thing. I thought you’d feel better knowing he wasn’t “crawling with spiders” too, besides, I completely trust you with him and I know your specialties, the less “evidence” of any kind of friendly relationship, the less can be used against you, in the case you have to do the deed. However, if you are seen by his friends being with him all the time and getting cozy, that will place you well outside the realm of suspicion to them. Especially since you have more than one connection to them.” Phillip answered and Violet realized Phillip’s trap. He was trying to trap Barret, using herself as bait.

“Ok. Well thank you, that’s very sweet and thoughtful of you, I really appreciate it.” Violet thanked him before a thought occurred to her.

“By any chance, is that why you are hanging onto Miss Cheseray Wilkinson for longer than a weekend? Because if you’re “engaged” with her, that may seem to appear to free me up to get “cozy” with Mr. Pine?” Violet asked as she uncrossed her arms and simply let her arms rest on the armrests of her chair.

“You always were so clever Violet.” Phillip beamed proudly as Violet simply leaned forward on her elbows of her desk as Phillip did the same.

“God you’re despicable.” Violet praised, despite her grin, she wanted to throw up when he leaned across the desk and kissed her. But she swallowed it down, along with her disgust for him. Barret’s life and survival hung in the balance, she needed to protect him. The money- she could care less about, she had more than enough just from The Agency, any money from Phillip was always extra. But for Barret's sake, it would be worth it. But for now, she needed to get Phillip right where she needed him and keep herself above suspicion in order to keep her own head from rolling. She couldn’t protect Barret, let alone anyone else if she was dead. And Phillip still held the power to pull the trigger so to speak. She still needed to finesse the gun from his grasp. And she still needed to figure out a proper trap for him too. One that he would be willing to release Barret from his if it meant his own freedom, much less his own life to be exchanged.

“Well Mr. Pine and myself are barely now only friends, for anything romantic is to happen, it is going to take some serious time and some very convincing measures and greater freedoms for both of us and he will not only have to be enticed, but feel free to pursue me without the fear of any backlash or danger of any kind. And I’ll need it in my contract that no retaliation or counter measures will be taken for any romantic entanglements for either of us because his fear of you may always outweigh any desire he has for me and it is that fear that keeps him in line and behaving for us so we need to balance it. And of course the occasional, if not quite frequent unsupervised time spent while in contract would be most helpful and if any of my enemies become his by association, I can’t be held responsible for that. But at the same time, if anyone is going to take him out, it will be me and me alone that will do it. No one else is to ever interfere and whether he lives or dies, will be a matter that me and only me will ever decide one way or another and who knows, he may prove to be useful to me for many years to come, decades probably, why should we prune a bush just as it begins to flower? Why not let it bloom it’s heart out and enjoy it’s fruits for the long run? Granted you get to enjoy the fruits of his labor for the next two years. I would hate to kill the golden goose before it gets a chance to lay it’s best golden eggs a few years from now? Because while I will inherit everything he has, why not let that bush flower and fruit to its absolute fullest and ripest before it’s harvested?” Violet specified with a flourish of her hands.

“Oh of course. I absolutely agree with you on that.”

“But again, all of that will take time. Are you patient enough for all of that?” Violet posed.

“Oh don’t worry about me. I won’t grow bored if that’s what you’re worried about. Cheseray will do quite nicely as a good distraction.”

“Well if that distraction ever gets serious, I wouldn't hold that against you Phillip.” Violet cooed, because honestly, Cheseray and the rest of her dance company could take their turns with him, she didn’t give a fuck.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.” Phillip reassured her.

“Well, if my hands are going to be full with Mr. Pine for the foreseeable future. I may need help with the position of your handler. And I fear for bigger trips like the ones to Tokyo and Hong Kong and the like, you're going to need an official handler since I’m going to be Mr. Pine’s for those engagements and well every engagement and outing from now on, because closeness does breed fondness after all.” Violet proposed and subtly consciously nodded which got Phillip to nod subconsciously as well.

“Of course, consider this your reassignment to him then. I believe I can enlist others to stand in for your post for the time being while you are otherwise engaged.” Phillip offered.

“Would you like me to arrange for that or did you have someone in mind?” Violet posed curiously.

“Oh I have a few in mind. I’ll take care of it myself. Your hands are already so full from handling Mr. Pine for me. I couldn’t possibly ask for you to find your stand in too.”

“Well if I may make a suggestion?” Violet offered.

“Oh I’m all ears.” Phillip grinned giddily.

“Don’t get Veronica Andrews. She’s a little too strictly business for your tastes and you will lose ground with her for the same things that gained ground with me. May I suggest perhaps a man, who is perhaps- familiar, accepting and incredibly accommodating for all of your needs who will use the same foresight and thoughtfulness I possess and will pleasantly surprise you?” Violet offered.

“Oh do go on.” Phillip urged her.

“He has a bit of a wild reputation and may have been in a scandal or two himself. But, he should be a good fit for you. His name is Leopold Traeger. Also known as Mysterio.” Violet recommended.

“Really? Mysterio?” Phillip posed.

“Most think he’s just a second rate Super, but those in the know- know differently. He’ll be perfect for what you need him for.” Violet cooed.

“Then I will take your recommendation.” Phillip grinned which got Violet to smile victoriously.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lunch date with Mirage. I’ll need all the insights and tidbits I can possibly harvest from her.” Violet excused herself as she got up and smoothed out her skirt.

“Oh of course, please do send her my best.” Phillip offered as he mirrored her.

“One last kiss then, besides, I would hate to be the reason you and Cheseray were to ever have a disagreement, let alone an argument or for her to feel any kind of jealousy towards me or feel threatened by me and our closeness. I can’t go ruining your relationships can I?” Violet cooed as she gave him one last kiss. Kissing the last of any emotional attachment with him goodbye with it.

“Goodbye Phillip, or should I say, Mr. Sebastian?” Violet slipped back into her handler voice as she sauntered away.

“Goodbye Ms. Parr.” Phillip called after her wistfully.

Violet went to Luigiano’s for lunch early and happily realized that Tali had already made a reservation under Octavia for a private booth. The restaurant was owned by The Seven Kings Mafia, so there was absolutely no cameras or listening devices and there were completely enclosed private booths in one of the private dining rooms that were bulletproof and sound proof and if you needed to discuss any kind of business, Luigiano’s is where you went. Plus they had one of Metroville’s best wine selections and the staff that worked in the kitchens turned out some of the best Italian food in the area that was on par with any Italian grandmother's cooking mostly because the kitchen was full of real grandmothers from all over Italy that were brought over by the seven families that made up the Seven Kings of the Seven King's Mafia and you had to be an important somebody to even be on the list of guests allowed to make reservations and thankfully both Violet and Natalia were on that list. Violet sat down and ordered her favorite wine and some antipastos before Natalia came a few moments later, turning heads like she always did, because even after being a mother of two, her figure had morphed from slim and trim to dangerously curvy but still undeniably sexy and Natalia was still a head turner wherever she went, wearing one of her more couture outfits and looking more like a mob boss’ wife more than anything before she was shown to her booth before her own order was taken then the doors of the booth were closed and secured as Violet and her happily dug into the antipastos that had been delivered already.

“Violet Darling, I was surprised to get a call from you, what’s going on?” Tali asked.

“What do you make of this?” Violet asked as she handed Tali her tablet as Tali took it and read through what was on it before she let it set on the table and got her glass of wine and began to drink it before she looked back down at it, holding the chilled glass of wine to her cheek as he cheeks flushed as she stared down at it as she did her best to school her features to stay composed as Violet could still see the real fear behind her gorgeous green eyes.

“It’s one hell of a trap.” Tali noted.

“I know. It’s a trap for Mr. Pine, I’m the bait.” Violet offered before Tali shook her head no.

“No, you have that backwards Dear. Mr. Pine is the bait, you’re the prey. This is a give. The real question is- what is Phillip taking?” Tali asked.

“Phillip still thinks I’ll kill Mr. Pine at my earliest convenience.” Violet answered.

“Nope, that’s not it. That was a term already agreed upon and understood under the previous terms. These are new terms. Which means new stakes. This is the give, what is the take?” Tali repeated emphatically.

“My sanity?” Violet guessed. “I told him about the creepy crawly spiders. He agreed to kill them for me and that Mr. Pine is like a big can of Raid to me. Phillip hasn’t killed them yet, but he put them to sleep for now.” Violet revealed.

“No. That’s not it. Did Phillip propose? And more importantly did you accept because this is a big “leap of faith and trust” there’s no way Phillip would take this leap, without either knowing for certain that you will catch him, or, more importantly, know for certain that his leverage against you outweighs this, it’s like gambling, and he’s the house, the house is always going to win and this is your first pay out. But there’s no way you get to leave the casino. It’s way too early and the night is way too young, again, what are the stakes, what is the take? The real take? Are you going to be Mrs. Sebastian?” Tali asked plainly.

“No, uh, in fact he has a new squeeze in order to free me up for Mr. Pine.” Violet answered.

“Well it’s clear he’s “loaning you out” like a pimp trading hoes or an exhibit at a museum. What is Phillip taking to keep you loyal to him? To keep you obedient and in line? What is more precious to you than your heart that Phillip knows you'd give up everything to keep safe?” Tali urged her.

“Jack.” Violet breathed in horror as that realization hit her like a brick to the face.

“It was Jack who came to SEB to redesign the suit. It’s Jack who has been working with Edna on Dragon Eye. But Jack is at home, Jack would know if there’s spiders at home or at school and Jack is so far- immune. Unless... Phillip found a way to make himself more potent. Oh God. I told Phillip he needed a new handler while I was “reassigned”. I suggested Mysterio because Mysterio would be able to give Phillip all the freedoms he wants, without too many constrictions of ethics or morals, much less codes or laws. Mysterio has had issues with drugs in the past. If Phillip gets ahold of...any number of things he’ll be too strong. Even for me. Maybe even for Jack or my parents, or anyone.” Violet realized.

“I gotta go.” Violet realized as she took the tablet back and got her things together.

“Thank you for lunch, sorry to eat and run, I gotta…”

“Just go.” Tali waived her off as Violet quickly walked out of the restaurant, doing everything in her power not to cry in public as panic whirled in her chest and she went straight to Jack’s school and had him come to the office while she did her best to wait patiently for him to come before Jack came into the office in confusion before he looked into the office to see Violet before his eyes got wide to see her expression.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

“Oh, uh, you have an appointment with Dr. Pine today that Mom forgot to call the school and let them know you had.” Violet offered.

“Oh yeah, uh, let me go get my backpack.” Jack said as Violet went with him and ordered her secret bike to meet her at a doctor’s office where she managed to find- a Dr. Pine on staff. He was an orthopedic surgeon, who specialized in pediatrics. Perfect.

“What’s going on?” Jack whispered.

“Phillip changed the stakes. We need to strategize with Barret.” Violet urged him.

“Shit.” Jack cursed under his breath.

“That was fast. We were just there for the weekend, we left Sunday afternoon, it hasn't been 24 hours since we last left. How did he change it so fast?” Jack asked in a hushed whisper as he got back to his locker and got his stuff along with work from his teacher before he followed Violet out of his school.

“Read this.” Violet said as she handed Jack her tablet as she drove like the wind to the doctor’s office as she checked her phone to see where her bike was en-route to her.

“I just got done with lunch with Tali, she said that since I’m not officially engaged to Phillip, that that is the give and asked what the take is. I think because you were at SEB, that Phil plans on taking you as leverage against me. I don’t know when or how, but you need to make sure that at school and especially at home, that it’s spider free. But since I officially got reassigned, I suggested Mysterio as my replacement. Mysterio has a history with drugs, more-so with weed than coke but I wouldn’t put it past him. If Phillip gets back on coke- he’ll get too strong, even for me and I’m afraid even for you.” Violet insisted.

“Yup, that tracks.” Jack nodded in agreement before she parked her car and hit a remote on her keys before an enclosed motorcycle slid it’s enclosure back as Violet quickly changed into a pant suit so she could ride the bike astride as Jack got on it with her and got the second helmet and put it on before he hung onto his sister tightly from behind her on the bike and rode with Violet back to SEB in the cloaked bike, weaving through all the traffic, like a thread through a tapestry and once in the SEB parking lot, Violet enveloped through her forcefield as she ran into the building, phasing though the walls and such to get to Barret’s lab before she got Jack safely into Barret’s bathroom before she went up to Barret and tapped his arm three times before he lifted his head and took the cue and went into the bathroom and blinked in surprise to see Jack in there before the three of them were enveloped into Violet’s forcefield.

“Ok, now what’s going on?” Barret asked before Violet repeated what had happened with Phillip and then again with Tali as both Barret and Jack had to sit on the floor as Violet sat with them as all three of them simply held their heads in their hands as they sat cross legged on the floor in a triangle.

“How do we get out of this?” Jack asked.

“Other than in a casket.” Barret specified.

“Or me in a wedding dress answering to Mrs. Sebastian for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be.” Violet groaned as she raked her nails over her scalp.

“Wait.” Jack breathed in softly as an idea bloomed in his head.

“Is there a way to measure someone’s individual brain wavelengths, like a taking a stamp of a fingerprint. And is there a way we can inject, something like a dye, like the kind of dye they inject you with when you have an MRI, but it can stick to foreign wavelengths, like dusting for fingerprints, but on the brain, to see if Phillip has had his “fingerprints” on other brains. Like I know Violet’s brain is going to look like a joint passed around at a party.” Jack began which got Violet and Barret to snort a laugh at his allegory. But he had a great idea.

“But if we can find actual evidence of this suicide seed. It should show up right? And even if it got removed, there might be evidence, like the water stains left behind in a flower vase. It’s worth a shot right?” Jack offered.

“Definitely.” Barret readily agreed.

“And if we can make it so that once it’s found, the dye can act like nonstick spray on a pan, to keep any further ‘fingerprinting’ from happening to the brain itself but make his efforts still show up?” Violet ventured as Jack and Violet looked to Barret hopefully.

“In theory yeah, but it would take images and I need Phillip’s biometric data. And that’s not going to be easy to get.” Barret began.

“Well, we’ve used Dragon Eye as our cover so far, I’d have offed myself already if Phillip knew he was really Dragon Eye. We can use that as our in. We can use the Agency and I can get you set up with passcodes and ways to use The Agency’s databases and super computers so that you can work on stuff that even Phillip can’t see and we can hide it in plain sight because anything secret or top secret or whatever Phillip always likes to poke his nose into. We can even use your cipher to code it. Make it so that IRize and your other companies can get read into it and at least they can keep a second copy of it as a back up and Jack, I hate to do this to you so but get you another back up, keep it with Edna, no one in their right mind would go after her or invade her space, they’d be making an enemy with every Super world wide on both sides.” Violet mused.

“Yeah, that works.” Jack said before Violet got a nosebleed.

“Fuck, I’ve used too much of my powers today, we gotta cut this short. Jack I gotta get you back and get you off at home.” Violet realized as she grabbed some toilet paper to stuff it into her nose to stop the bleeding as Buddy noticed that the blood itself seemed to pulse in and out of invisibility within the tissue, like a cuttlefish strobing it’s lights and colors which he thought was peculiar.

“Ok,” Jack readily agreed before Violet got Jack back and managed to hack into the real Dr. Pine’s medical computers to fake a note for Jack before her bike drove itself back to her secret hideout apartment before Violet took Jack home and lied to her parents about how she had made the doctor’s appointment for Jack because he was complaining of pain in his feet because the real Dr. Pine was an orthopedic surgeon and they were getting a consultation.

Then Violet returned to work as usual and went to check in with Phillip for the evening check in and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw someone with Mysterio in Phillip’s office.

White Lightning- none other than her brother, one Dash Parr.

Fuck. Wrong brother. It wasn’t necessarily Jack that was the take. It was Dash.

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humanmoodring-retired · 4 years ago

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Walking With a Ghost || Luce & Nadia???

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Candleton Cemetery & Nadia’s Apartment ;)

PARTIES: @divineluce @humanmoodring

SUMMARY: Nadia invites Luce on a date with promises that it’ll be a little dirty... It’s not grave robbing if you don’t want the bodies, right?

As Luce climbed up the stairs of Nadia’s apartment, she couldn’t help but reflect on how different it felt from the last time she was here. Not just physically-- physically, it was like night and day. She’d barely been able to make it up the first landing without having to take a break from the pain in her ribs. But unlike last time… she just had this feeling that something was different. Something was off. It wasn’t like Nadia to flirt with her, to make those jokes. Not unless she was like, super fucking stressed or something. But, the satan salt deliveries had stopped a while ago and it hadn’t seemed like there was anything else fucking her up. So, what was going on? Whatever it was, the other woman’s invitation to “get a little dirty” had her knocking on Nadia’s door all the same. “Hey there.” She said with an easy grin as she leaned against the doorway.

Just as Luce knocked on the door, Nadia was getting her duffel bag ready to take on a couple hundred thousand dollars in cash. She also had a shovel with a handle that allowed it to fit into the bag. Her revolver went in as well, though she didn’t think they’d run into anything worth shooting. She also transferred a glass vial of phoenix tears into something sturdier and slipped it in a pocket. Nadia flexed her left hand. She didn’t want to be ill prepared again. She picked Candleton for its ability to be pretty fucking quiet after hours, so she didn’t expect any trouble. Finally, she’d drawn a map from memory. She knew the approximate area where she’d stored her cash, as well as what the date on the tombstone should probably be. Late October. Probably. She’d gotten to White Crest in November and found a place to stash a good chunk of her money right away. She’d been looking for places to hole up the rest of it when the three exorcist stooges had fucked up her life and set her back months. But that’d be fixed tonight. She opened the door for Luce, a bright smile on her face. “Hey, yourself. Ready for some fun?”

“Ah, you know me, I’m always down for fun.” Luce replied. If this was how Nadia wanted to go about their hook up, who was she to stop her? But, as she stood there, her eyes fell to the large duffle bag in Nadia’s hand. A duffle bag? What was she doing with that..? It was big and bulky, but it didn’t totally seem like it was full-- in fact, it kind of looked empty. What the fuck? “What’s that for? You on the lamb or something?” She asked with bemused expression. But, even as she spoke, her confusion only grew. What was going on here? And why… why did she get the sinking feeling that Nadia was calling in that favor she owed her for the phoenix tears?

“Excellent,” Nadia said. She shouldered her bag and headed out the door, locking the door behind them. “Or something,” she told Luce breezily. On the way downstairs, she considered whether she wanted to take her bike or Nadia’s piece of shit Bronco. The truck had more room, but she hated it. She hated most things that were decidedly Nadia, for all of her attempts to blend into the girl’s life. “So, I moved here after… some shit, back in November, and I had to hide some stuff in Candleton cemetery. I figured we could go get it.” She looked back at Luce, mischief in her eyes. “It’s not a fun date, I know, but it will be a little dirty, like I promised, and there’s always the risk of getting caught, and that’s fun.” They made it outside, and Nadia walked over to where she parked her bike, strapping the duffel bag in and turning to Luce once more. “I wanted to put what we’re doing out there. ‘S not illegal, per se, but…” She trailed off. This was Luce’s chance to back out, if she wanted to.

Following Nadia down the stairs, Luce couldn’t help the expression of concern that grew more and more pronounced with every step she took. Or something? Listening as the other woman spoke, she did her best to try and make sense of it all. She hid something in the cemetery? In the fucking cemetery? Seriously? And dirty-- Fuck. She was-- Christ. They were going to rob a grave. That’s what Nadia wanted her for? To help her dig up a body? Why the fuck did she want a body? Or, if it wasn’t a body, what the fuck did she stash in a fucking cemetery? And why? Approximately a hundred questions were going through her brain as she followed Nadia until they stopped at a bike she’d never seen before. A motorcycle. What the fuck? Luce stared at the woman in stunned silence, trying to get a gauge on just who was standing in front of her. This… whatever was going on, this wasn’t... Swallowing, Luce offered what she hoped was a crooked grin. “Sure. I’m game.” Whatever was happening here, she needed to figure out just what the fuck Nadia was up to. And why. Why was she acting like this? And since when did she know how to ride a motorcycle?

This was, as the kids might say, a mistake, Nadia was quickly beginning to realize. Luce’s confusion and concern over this situation was a bit too much, and Nadia should’ve known that she would have been better off going to the cemetery alone. But, she needed a lookout, and she thought that Luce could hang. She’d been wrong, obviously. Concern seemed to be winning out over Luce’s natural desire to deny that she gave a shit about Nadia. See, negative emotions like that were what got in the way of people having fun. Damn. And then she seemed to be weirded out by the motorcycle. Nadia gave Luce a bit of a sheepish smile, ran a hand through her hair. Classic Nadia Diaz move. “Impulse buy,” she said, looking at the motorcycle. “Kind of fun, though.” She bit her lip, appearing to be unsure. “Listen if this is… Fuck, I know it’s, like, weird. But I was-- There was so much going on, when I first got here, and I didn’t really know what to do, so I just.” She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I had to get rid of some money. I couldn’t think of anything else. Nobody checks a fucking cemetery, right?” One more time of running her hand through her hair. It’s a nervous habit, after all. Nadia did it when she was nervous. “But it’s… seems sketchy, right?”

Luce listened intently, though her eyes were trained on the other woman’s face. Well. Not exactly her face. She was more focused on her eyes, trying to get a glimpse past the flurry of activity. The way she ran her hand through her hair, the biting of her lip, the pinching of her nose-- they were all things she’d seen Nadia do before. But… back to back, one right after the other? That never really happened. Not often at least, not when they’d been around each other before. There was something in her eyes that just seemed… different. Maybe it was just stress. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, Luce’s concern only grew. Whatever was going on, it was seriously fucking weird. Which meant, even though the cemetery was the last place she wanted to go, she was gonna be there. “Yeah.” Luce said finally, casting the woman an easy grin. “A bit sketchy for sure. But, I owe you one. And besides, I can’t really let you go out there all on your own. Who knows what kind of shit’s out there. It’s not safe.”

Nadia met Luce’s eyes, and, just for a moment, she felt seen. Not in a good way, either. This was a real mess, wasn’t it? Fuck, some people just needed to get their priorities straight. Luce’s concern was highly unwanted and unnecessary, but there wasn’t anything Nadia could do about it now. Except push the other woman away without blowing her cover any more than she already had. She let her body sag with relief. “Great. That’s, like, seriously great. I mean, that you’re coming.” They didn’t talk the ride to the cemetery, Nadia weaving through back streets and alleys. She was a bit lost in her head, thinking about what to do, after all this. If Luce caught on to anything being wrong with her, well, Nadia didn’t know what to do. For all of the other woman’s conflicting emotions, Luce seemed to care about Nadia, something that made her chest ache in a way that decidedly wasn’t her own. But she’d break the heart inside her chest in it meant she didn’t get caught. She parked outside the cemetery gate. Nadia threw her duffel bag over the fence and scanned it for the broken spot she’d crawled through when she first stashed the money. She looked back to Luce. “After you,” she said with a small smile, holding the broken rail away so that the other woman could get through.

Without further discussion, Luce slid onto the back of Nadia’s motorcycle-- a fucking motorcycle?-- and held on as they drove to the cemetery. Because that was a super normal thing to do. She could just imagine small talk in the backroom at Ink Inc.: ‘Hey, Luce, what’d you get up to?’ ‘Oh nothing, just went and dug up some sketchy shit from a graveyard to pay off a debt to one of the girl’s I’ve been fucking. Oh, and said girl’s been acting concerning as all get out. How about you?’ Trailing behind Nadia, Luce kept her head on a swivel as the made their way through the cover of darkness towards the fence. “How polite. Love it when a gal knows her manners.” She said with what she hoped was an easy going grin. She slipped inside the cemetery and looked around. Empty, as far as she could tell. “So… where did you stash this stuff? And what are we looking for anyways?”

“I’m hella polite,” Nadia said. She was, too. She never left a mess in the places she robbed. That would have just been inconsiderate. Despite the fact that Luce definitely didn’t want to be there, Nadia appreciated that she seemed to be taking this seriously. Probably for her own benefit, but still. “In a lot in the back right corner. It was about five minutes of walking from here. Grave’s from, like, October. It was fresh enough that no one noticed that I dug a bit. Think the last name started with a G. Or maybe an E.” She really hadn’t been paying attention, too many long nights of living in fear of getting caught followed by a certain amount of disbelief that she didn’t have to worry about those things here had made her reckless when she was hiding her stuff. She’d ended that night back at her apartment, hands bloody and clothes covered in dirt, and she’d drunk an entire bottle of Jack Daniels and passed out on the couch. “We’re looking for a metal box. Just some cash and shit inside.” By shit she meant a ton of jewelry as well as well as a Colt revolver said to have belonged to Billy the Kid. She wanted that gun back, man. It looked fucking cool.

“You dug around--” She shut her mouth before starting again, “Back corner… fresh grave, some kind of G or E last name.” Luce repeated, still in disbelief over what she was doing. Launching a full on assault on Yours Mime and Ours? No problem. Kidnapping the shithead who murdered her sister? Dude had it coming. The murder part… necessary evil. But grave robbing? Was this grave robbing? They weren’t like… going for a body. But they were definitely going to be digging around in the dirt. Of a grave. Fuck. What the fuck Nadia? “Cash? Are you in some kind of trouble or something?” She asked, as she made her way over to the area that the woman had directed her towards and began to look over the headstones. “You’ve heard of a bank account, right?” She tried to joke, but it did nothing to ease the growing confusion and concern. What the fuck was going on?

“I didn’t, you know, put anything in a coffin or whatever,” Nadia said, trying to sound defensive, but, really, she just kind of found this a little funny. In a disappointing kind of way. It made sense. Nadia would never actually sleep with a cool person. Or have strange, nagging feelings that forced her to do things like give up prized phoenix tears. She shouldered her bag and walked on, looking back at Luce. “No trouble. Just… probably best not to leave shit in places like this, you know? This town probably has actual grave robbers, and I really don’t want to deal with that.” Man, if somebody took her fucking Billy the Kid revolver, she’d make what she did to Todd the motherfucking vampire look like child’s play. The cash, too, or whatever. She had plenty of money, knew a thousand ways to get more money. But the gun of a famous Western gunslinger? That shit was priceless. She knew. When she stole it, there wasn’t a price tag. She started checking tombstones, looking for people who died in October. She kept looking at Luce, the other woman’s concern making her skin itch. She wished she could make it stop.

“I didn’t think you did. I was just wondering if you’d, you know… taken shit out of one. That’s all.” Luce said as she held her phone up to one of the headstones, reading the name. Roanoke. RIP in pieces to you, dude. But not their guy. “You know, with the number of ghouls and monster bullshit running around in the woods, there might as well be actual grave robbers around town too. Christ.” Luce shook her head, still trying to wrap her mind around the situation. None of this was sitting right with her. Yeah, she and Nadia had first met because the other woman wanted to set fire to a building, but YM&O was some seriously fucked up shit. And it wasn’t as though Nadia had ever mentioned any other weird, criminal bullshit stuff she was doing. Then again, who would actually admit to that? Letting out a sigh, Luce glanced over at Nadia and was startled to see her staring at her. Like she was waiting for something. Raising an eyebrow, Luce gestured to some of the other headstones around them. “I said I was gonna help, but now it looks like I’m the one doing all the work here.” She said.

“Taking shit off corpses isn’t my style,” Nadia said. Not the ones in the ground, at least. If they could walk and talk with a functioning body and pockets, they were free game. No telling how many undead fuckers she pickpocketed at that stupid carnival. “They are definitely grave robbers around here. A town of this size with as many people that just drop like flies? Grave robbing would be a lucrative business.” Just not one she was into. Grave robbing was rarely exciting, and Nadia hated touching dead bodies. She rolled her eyes at Luce’s comment. “Sorry. You’re just so pretty. How could I look away?” she teased. Then, she started on her own search for headstones. There was a Jeffery Edgars, but he died back in 2004, so he wasn’t her grave. She scanned around, careful not to walk over anyone (it was rude, okay?), silently begging something to stand out. There was nothing until… “Alison Gregory,” Nadia murmured. She died in the tell end of September, so Nadia had been a little off, but that was the grave. She chose it because the last name reminded her of another life. “If you can keep look out, this won’t take long,” she told Luce.

“Good to know. What is, then? You know, more your style?” Luce asked as she looked over another headstone. The numbers were so worn she didn’t even need to read them to know it wasn’t the one Nadia was looking for. Casting a glance over her shoulder, Luce scanned the area around them. No one was here, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. Security guards were probably out doing rounds or something, right? At the other woman’s words, Luce let out a bemused laugh, an attempt to distract from the way she stiffened. Seriously. What the fuck was going on here? This wasn’t… something was off. Something was really fucking off. “Touche, I’m damn fine to look at. Even in the dark.” She replied before following Nadia up to the latest tombstone. Her stomach turned slightly at the idea of digging up the grave, and a wave of relief washed over her when the other woman asked her to act as look out. “No problem. Do your thing.” She said with a thumbs up.

What was Nadia’s style? She paused, thinking about it. Whatever paid. Instead, she grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She set down her bag and knelt in front of it, getting out what she would need. She rested her pistol on the ground beside her and put the shovel together. Then, she began to dig. She only needed to get a few feet down. The ground was still soft, even after almost a year. She dug for awhile before her shovel hit something, a metallic sound ringing through the air. Nadia used her hands to uncover the box. She grinned as she saw the lock was still on it. Grunting, she withdrew the box and put in her bag before she began filling the grave back up. “Fucking jackpot.” She said. This was great. She still had a lot of money, and she could always get more, but she wanted to have eyes on her stuff in case she ever had to make a quick escape from White Crest. After she finished filling the hole, she wiped a bit of sweat off her brow, smearing dirt on it in the process. Grinning from ear to ear, she turned back to Luce. “I didn’t lie when I said it was gonna be dirty.”

I really would. Luce thought to herself as she scanned the area around them. The graveyard was dark-- there were lights along the main road that went through the cemetery that flickered and blinked in the night sky. Other than that, nothing. Just the two of them and a whole bunch of dead people. Super cool. Real fucking chill. Glancing down at the other woman, Luce froze when she saw a flash of metal next to the hole that Nadia had dug. A gun. She hated guns. She hated how powerful they were, hated how easy it was for the wrong people to get a hold of them. And she hated seeing one here, in Nadia’s hands. Luce raised her eyes once more, trying to hide her discomfort until the other woman spoke up. “True facts. I mean, this wasn’t the dirty I was expecting but, you’re no liar.”

Picking up the now hefty bag and tucking her gun into the front pouch of it, Nadia walked over to Luce. This night could end one of two ways, she decided, still feeling the other woman’s discomfort. They could both have fun, or just Nadia could have fun. She had no attachment to Luce Vural, despite what her body and brain almost constantly tried to tell her. Nadia had an attachment to her because she was a fool and always fell for people that would never want her back. Not in a meaningful way. Nadia didn’t care. Cutting Luce out would only benefit her, in the end. Just another loose Nadia Diaz thread to cut. But, still. “You know, I promised you fun, and I don’t think I delivered,” she said quietly. “Think that means I owe you a drink? And maybe something a little more?” She kept her voice light but hopeful.

As Nadia grabbed the bag, the shovel disappearing neatly back into the duffel, Luce craned her neck to look around the cemetery. She could have sworn she’d seen a beam of light, like a flashlight, flickering across the way. They needed to get out of here. At the other woman’s words, she blinked in surprise. While the suggestion was more of how she’d thought her night would go, all thoughts of it had gone out the window the second Nadia had told her what her plans were. “What, you don’t treat all the girls to a wild night of grave digging? I’m shocked.” Luce teased. As fucked up as all this was, as weird as it all was-- the offer was tempting. And after the horrible evening she’d had with Remmy? Even more so. “Yeah. A drink would be good. And I can’t say I mind the idea of a little more.”

Surprise was far better than concern to Nadia, and she was willing to take what she could get to salvage the night. After all this, she had no desire to keep Luce around; the other woman was clearly affected by some attachment that she either wasn’t aware of or was too stubborn to acknowledge. Nadia didn’t need her snooping around, figuring out something was up. She’d do whatever she had to in order to push her away. But this? “Grave digging’s for special occasions only,” she said, leading them back to the bike. “But good. Great, even. I’ve got a bed and a bottle of tequila that I’ve got no problem sharing.” She’d cut Luce off after, later. Maybe she’d even ghost her. That was such a funny phrase, all things considered. Whatever. She was going to enjoy the night. Whatever happened, after happened after.

Hours later, though it’s hard to tell without any light outside, and it is warm, and it is comfortable. It almost felt too good to be true, like one of those dreams no one would want to wake up from. Summer nights, soft sheets, and another body close by made her want to burrow back down, fall asleep. But it was all too good to be true. Nadia’s eyes snapped open. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest. She didn’t know where she was, who she was with. Her eyes wouldn’t focus. Her chest felt too tight. She stumbled out of bed, tripped over a piece of clothing, and managed to pull on a shirt as she left the room. Her room, in her apartment. She was at home. She didn’t feel like she was at home. She went to the bathroom. She needed water or fresh air or a mirror or something. Something to make this real. The lights snapped on, and she stared at her reflection. Same face, same eyes, no grin. But Nadia still felt dread, practically tangible, knotting in her chest. Maybe because of the fact that the hollowness she’d felt since the first time she woke up was gone, filled with something writhing and bitter and wholly not her. Her shaking fingers reached up to touch her face.

The bed moved, the pressure next to her rousing Luce from her sleep. Blinking, she frowned into the pillow under her before realizing what had just happened. Fuck. She’d fallen asleep. Luce wasn’t the type to fall asleep after a hook-up. She was usually on her way out if the prospect of another round wasn’t on the table, with an excuse about an early appointment ready in the wings. As the bathroom door swung open, the light flickering on, Luce stretched. She should go. She should take the opportunity to nod and wave and… shrug off everything. Because, while the sex had been good, it hadn’t felt quite how it used to? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there had been an edge to the encounter that hadn’t been there before. Swallowing, Luce slipped into her shorts, pulling her shirt back over her head before padding quietly over to the bathroom. “Hey, Nadia--” Seeing the way the woman’s fingers trembled as they touched her face, Luce froze. “Are you okay?” She asked automatically, worry and concern leaking into her tone.

Shock at the sound of Luce’s voice was all it took for Nadia to regain control of the body. her hands were still shaking, her pulse rapid and her chest tight with a sense of anxiety that didn’t belong to her. Both hands went down to grasp at the sink. “Fine.” Her voice is rough, cracked in the middle. “Just a nightmare.” A nightmare would have been welcome. This had been the absence of anything, a realization that she’d been shuttered away in the back of Nadia Diaz’s mind, all because her body had gotten too comfortable during sleep. She tried to calm herself down, taking a few deep breaths. She was alive. She was real. She was alive. She looked over to Luce and noticed that the other woman was dressed. That was a relief. She needed to be alone, to find some semblance of control. “Heading out?” she asked, maneuvering passed the other woman back into the bedroom when the bathroom and her head began to feel distinctly too crowded.

In the bathroom lights, Luce could have sworn she’d seen a whole spectrum of emotions flicker across Nadia’s face-- dread, fear, confusion. But, when she’d spoken up, her hands had slipped down to cling to the bowl of the sink. And whatever Luce had thought she’d seen, it was gone. Tilting her head, she stared at the woman for a moment, concern still very much apparent. But, if Nadia said she was fine… She wasn’t going to pry. She wasn’t going to bother worrying about it because this didn’t mean anything. Swallowing, she shifted out of the doorway to let the woman slip by her. “Yeah. Got stuff to do in the morning.” Luce said with a shrug. “This was fun-- this bit. Count me out for the next time you decide to go digging around the cemetery.” She joked.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” Nadia said. She needed Luce to get out, needed to be alone and quiet or maybe really, really loud. If Luce didn’t leave soon, she’d leave herself. She didn’t care anymore. She was shaken. Sure, sometimes Nadia came back, broke free for a few seconds. It was never for long, though. This hadn’t been long, or maybe it had, and she just didn’t know it. Nadia still felt a bit trapped, even though she was the one who had control. This just meant no more Luce. Luce was officially on the same tier as the fucking banshee, though Nadia hadn’t decided if she’d kill this one or not. She could probably just push her away. That method had worked before. “I aim to please,” she teased lightly, though she didn’t look at the other woman. “Though, some people are just dying to hang around in cemeteries, you know.”

“You definitely do.” Luce replied with a crooked grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “In this town? Definitely. I’m good though.” She said as she made her way to the door. Hand poised on the doorknob, she paused for a moment, mulling over her words. She wanted to say something, felt like she should say something. Felt like she should try to… reassure Nadia. But, that was what had gotten her in that mess with Remmy, wasn’t it? Sending mixed signals? With a wave of her hand, Luce slipped out of the apartment. As the door shut behind her, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Fuck. Taking the stairs two at a time, her mind raced all the same. Nothing about this night had been normal. From the motorcycle to the grave robbing to how… different Nadia had been that whole time? Something was off. Something was real fucking off. Maybe it wasn’t any of her business, but shit. She was going to figure out what was going on.

#chatzy: luce vural #wickedswriting #not!nadia #//and a lil somethin somethin at the end #;))))#:----)#walking with a ghost

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