#every few years i'm just seized by the urge to give it all up and move to madison

[pentanguine]

Does anyone else ever get the sudden yen to move to Wisconsin?

[bucksfucks]

         amorosa // steve rogers

  chapter six: between the sheets

 chapter one // chapter two // chapter three    

                    chapter four // chapter five

               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

                             main masterlist

                            series masterlist

summary || after bucky let’s the name peggy slip from his lips, steve not giving you the answers you’re looking for, you take matters into your own hands.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader

word count || 1,135 words

warnings || sugar daddy/sugar baby themes, financial issues, undefined age gap, mentions of legal troubles, mentions of crime — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

     Bucky's voice replayed in your head the entire ride back to the hotel room. Steve's hand rested gently on your thigh, normally comforting, but right now it felt like it weighed about a million pounds, anchoring you down. 

    You were quiet, silently sliding out of the car before stepping into the elevator with him. Steve hummed a tune as you ascended before the door was opened to a dark room. Your heart seized at the sight of it, the name Peggy echoing in your mind. 

    "I'm gonna go take a shower." You said, not waiting for him to acknowledge you before you locked yourself in the bathroom and tried to drown your thoughts out with hot running water. 

    It didn't work.

    Why did Steve hide her from you, you had told him about your previous relationships, even asked him about his and he simply brushed off the question saying he was always too busy for anything long term. 

    Here you were finding out he used to be married from his best friend that you had just met. 

    "Hey, Princess?" Steve's voice sounded from the other side of the door as you snapped your head in its direction, "you okay? You've been in there for a while." 

    You wanted to scoff, rolling your eyes as you shook your head, "I'm fine." 

    When you stepped out of the bathroom you had the lush bathrobe wrapped around you as Steve had discarded his tailored tuxedo in exchange for a simple pair of sleep pants and a white shirt. 

    You hated how good he still looked. 

    The air around you two was tense, sad eyes flicking up to meet his as he stood from the bed. 

    "What did Bucky say?" His voice was a quiet whisper, the least confident it's ever been as you cast your eyes down to the floor. 

    "Oh you know, nothing much, just that you were married." You were hurt, emotions running through every word you spoke as Steve recoiled at the sound of them. He remained silent, running a hand through his beard. 

    "Why didn't you tell me about her?" You asked, still avoiding contact as you felt the familiar thickness in your throat as tears prickled their way in the corner of your eyes. 

    "She's not important," Steve said as you looked up at him in disbelief, "you were married." You reiterated as he sighed, taking a couple of steps closer to you. 

    "It didn't end well, okay? She isn't who she said she was." He told you and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes again. 

    You slide past his body, moving towards the bed as he spins around to face you. 

    "I want to know about her." You say confidently, meeting his gaze as he clenches his jaw. 

    "No, sweetheart, no you don't." He warns you as you narrow your eyes at him. You're frustrated, heart leaping out of your chest as your stomach churns and you feel bile rising to your throat. 

    What could he possibly be hiding? Did you want to know? Did you even know him? 

    Your thoughts were wild, racing and causing your heart to palpate as Steve stands a few feet away from you, trying to calm you down. 

    "I want to go home." 

~

    Four days, that's how long it's been since you'd come back from Paris. 

    You were still trying to adjust to the switch in time zones, sleeping through most of the days and awake during most nights as you filled your time with anything other than thinking about Steve. 

    He had texted, tried to call you and even sent you flowers every day. 

    You didn't reply, sending one text to him saying that you need time and going ghost after that. 

    How could you keep your mind off of Steve when everything reminded you of him. Opting to stay in an air bnb proved to be lonely and you missed the company that Steve provided you with, missed the way he would kiss the tip of your nose or massage your thigh. 

    The thought of him with Peggy made you miserable. The thought of him willingly keeping that part of his life a secret, though, made you absolutely despondent. 

    You couldn't keep sitting on this anymore, if Steve wouldn't tell you about her, you'd just have to figure it out on your own. 

~

    "Thanks, Parker, I owe you." You smiled, chuckling as he enveloped you in a half hug, an armful of files in the other you both sat down in the quaint coffee shop. 

    "Think of this as a favour," he smiled, setting them down on the table before you began gnawing on your lip. 

    "Although, I gotta admit, this is some pretty heavy stuff. Are you, I mean, are you sure about this? Have you asked him about it?" He wondered and you sighed, nodding your head, "he said that I wouldn't wanna know." 

    You watched Peter's face contort into a cringe, the same cringe he had worn when he raced over to your house in high school venting about how he had just messed up the most important date of his life, that MJ would never speak to him again. 

    Funny how life works out, the two of them now happily married with a baby girl on the way. 

    "Their divorce was finalized in 2019, four years after Mr. Rogers, sorry, Steve, had filed for it." Peter began, opening the beige folder and turning it over to you. 

    "The reason for divorce is simply put as difference in opinions, but it never goes further than that." His eyes are big as he looks up at you, "Peggy isn't exactly as innocent as she sounds." 

    "From money laundering, fraud, tax evasion, bribery, I mean, she's done it all basically. Steve was left with nothing and had to face all the consequences." Peter explains and there's a weight that's lifted from your chest. 

    "It's also noted that it wasn't an amicable split and that well, Mrs. Carter is a powerful woman and has ways of… disposal." Peter's words sting you as your heart flips, "you have to be careful, no one's seen her in years, but she's still out there." He finally concludes, quickly closing the files before handing them over to you. 

    "If I were you, I would listen to Steve when he said that you don't wanna know her." 

    Your breath was shaky as you inhaled, hand over the files as you hugged them close to you. 

    "Thanks so much, Parker. I gotta go, tell MJ I say hi and that if you guys ever need a babysitter, I'm around." You smiled, giving him a quick, but tight hug before hurrying off to find Steve. 

    There's a funny thing about gut feelings because they're almost never wrong.

tagging // @jennmurawski13 | @nakedrogers | @vollzeitliebe | @kelbabyblue | @jevans2 | @babyyhoneyydarling | @cloudystevie | @lahoete | @speechlessxx | @aikeia

[liyuesbian]

✧ 101 dalmatians!au [ayaka]

notes: ........this is actually an updated (not rly) version of my 101 dalmatians!au with seulgi on my kpop gg writing blog..... sorryyyy i'm not being lazy i promise!! i've just got back from holiday and am working on a ningguang x reader but it might take a while (i rly wanna perfect it) so this is a placeholder for now :p

you would occasionally spot kamisato ayaka in the park walking her dalmatian. she's well-known around the local area because of her older brother: the mayor of the city. in fact, you also have a dog of the same breed, which is what drew you to her in the first place—minus her eye-catchingly extravagant outfits and cute facial features.

your own dalmatian is wonderful. when you were ten years old, your christmas wish was to get a puppy. much to your younger self’s disappointment, santa claus had gifted you with a rather large—and older—"puppy" than you had imagined in your head. nevertheless, you treated the newly named pongo with as much love as you could give him.

fast forward about ten years later and here is the same pongo eagerly trying to gain your attention as you sit in front of your piano. you’re thinking of how best to go about composing the last few bars of a song you’re working on.

unbeknownst to you, the dalmatian had sneakily altered the time of the clock and is now motioning to the door, howling. you double-check the time on your wristwatch but despite the inconsistency, you decide to go for the daily walk and attach a leash to his collar. it seems like you have no other choice: pongo has your hat between his teeth and is scratching at the door handle. you laugh as you give in to your dog’s contagious enthusiasm, taking your fedora from his mouth.

with the leash in one hand and a ball in the other, you are manhandled—or should i say doghandled—as pongo drags you all the way to the park. he appears to be looking for something, but you dismiss it. you attempt to undo the clasp of the leash, failing when pongo suddenly dashes off.

“slow down, pongo!” you yelp. this kind of high-energy behaviour isn’t new to you but it certainly catches you off-guard. in the end, you let your dog indulge himself in his antics and you’re led to the edge of the lake where you take a seat and gasp for breath. goodness, you don’t think you’ve ever done so much running in your life.

exhausted, you fan yourself with your fedora and loosen the top button on your dress shirt. the grass underneath you feels nice to rest on compared to the wooden chair you’d been sitting on for the whole morning.

it takes you a second to notice your companion gazing at a certain animal behind you. turning around, you recognise the dalmatian who’s seized pongo’s eyes from her pink collar and apprehensively look up to the owner. she’s perched on a bench next to the dog with her signature fan and a book in her hands. in shock, you jerk your head forward and blink a few times.

should we move somewhere else?

as if sensing your uneasiness, pongo barks and jumps to grab your hat. you sigh but grin at his mischievous face.

“come on, pongo. give it back.” taking her eyes off the pages of her book, ayaka glances at you and your dog, the ends of her mouth curving up ever so slightly to form a smile which stays hidden behind the upright fan. you throw the ball lightly in an attempt to get him to drop your hat.

it doesn't quite work and instead, rolls in the direction of the occupied bench. perdita, ayaka's dalmatian, glimpses at it, trying to withhold the urge to play with the bouncy toy. ayaka chuckles which causes you to cease your glaring at pongo to face her. the ringing of her laugh is pleasant and something you haven’t noticed before.

if only i could hear it every day. gently, you hit your cheeks to awaken yourself from your thoughts.

pongo is now frolicking in circles with the captured hat, vying for the attention of ayaka's dog. while you’re battling a two-way argument in your head and one with your dalmatian, you feel a soft nudge on your thigh. perdita has given you the ball back, and you could hear pongo whimpering sadly. impressed, you pet perdita who reacts with a delightful pant. the female dalmatian glances at pongo and apathetically walks back to her owner, who attaches a leash. they start to walk away.

pongo yaps in surprise. quickly, he abandons your hat and is about to take off when you tell him to stay, which he does obediently. you could tell your dog is planning to go after perdita, but you don’t want him running around aimlessly so you fasten his leash.

as soon as you do though, you’re being hauled once again towards kamisato ayaka. the hyperactive dalmatian follows the blue-haired woman and playfully circles her, earning a giggle from the subject of interest. unfortunately for the both of you, your legs have gotten tied to hers.

“oh my, i'm very sorry about this!” you blush. of course, you’ve never been in such close quarters with her before making it all the more embarrassing but you don’t entirely regret this moment either… until you realise that with the both of you frantically trying to get out of the awkward position and your dog pulling at the leash, the result would be all three of you tethering on the edge of the lake and perdita helplessly grabbing onto her owner to prevent the fall.

“oh no.” a splash is heard throughout the park.

clothes damp, you sit in the shallow water in cold shock, finding yourself no longer tangled around the dog leash. next to you, ayaka stands up to try searching for her hat and fan which pongo finds and gives to you with an almost apologetic expression.

“it seems i've lost my belongings,” she says worriedly.

“don’t worry, i have the things you're looking for right here.” you hand her her possessions and fix her hair but to no avail.

“ah, thank you.” you brush her wet bangs to the side so she could see.

“i'm truly very sorry! i don’t know how we ended up in the lake of all things.” you apologise profusely to the bewildered lady and attempt to make things better by removing the plants from her clothes. meanwhile, pongo has shaken himself dry and is relaxing next to perdita.

gosh, what kind of situation have i gotten myself into?

“no, it’s alright, i'll just dry myself off for now.” you see ayaka fetching a… soaked handkerchief from her purse.

“hold on, i usually carry one in my pocket.” however, yours too, is also drenched. “oh—"

ayaka begins to giggle. dumbfounded, you laugh with her. both of your dogs glance at each other and back at the pair of you, cocking their heads. you thought the pleasant sound and amicable smile were the only things about her laughter that could make your heart swell but now, with ayaka right in front of you, you notice things you would’ve never been able to before. you witness how her eyes crinkle and close shut and how her cheeks balloon revealing an even more charming side to her. you wonder what it would be like if you could make her this happy all the time.

after helping ayaka out of the pond, you feel it wouldn’t be right to leave her to go home all doused in water.

“would it be possible to invite you to our house? we live close by so it would be no trouble at all if you want to dry off there. it would probably be very uncomfortable to journey home in this state and i can't bear to watch you attempt to.” shyly, you meet her eyes after your impromptu offer to see ayaka grinning.

“i think i'd like to accept that offer. i suppose it is your fault too!” she quips and jokingly nudges your shoulder.

you smile back and turn to face your dalmatian who you will whisper many thank yous to later in life.

[shelby-love]

HARGREEVES SIBLINGS

What Brings us Together: Funerals

Requested: yes [x]

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Word count: 3.5K

Author’s note: I hope this is what you wanted. You didn't specify what kind of interaction we should have w our siblings so I just went off what was most realistic. Luther is a b of course, that's just how he is at the beginning lol. Don’t think I hate him though! p.s. so is diego we know he wasn’t really nice to vanya in the beginning :(

~

You sighed heavily through your nose, gathering your brows in distaste at the building standing tall in front of you. The Umbrella Academy looks as imposing as ever, making you remember just how much it once scared you when you were a kid.

Time went by and you became an adult. Someone with common sense, living an ordinary life far away from your once bright future that suggested money and luxury. Of course, when you’re informed of your father’s passing through a TV screen, it’s mandatory to show up and pay your respects.

You snorted at the rogue thought. “Bastard.”

Seeing your siblings after so many years of being apart made you feel anxious. Your father and his ashes weren’t the cause of your sweaty hands. It felt weird. Too weird.

But you ignored the feeling and called out your inner adult, placing one foot in front of the other and walking straight through the two-winged doors.  

Your eyes fell on every surface of the academy, sweeping over every object while doing so. The number of memories, good and bad, that this place held was uncountable. But life, alas, is too short.

Your father a true example.

You gazed at the portrait with no emotion, looking at the picture of your father and siblings with a crooked smile of sadness. The tips of your bare fingers flickered with energy, and you fought the urge to curl them into a fist and punch a wall.

But your father's voice rung through your head, what you've been taught all your life bucking into instinctive actions. "You must know self-control Number Eight. You lack of it will be your downfall. Now put your gloves back on!"

You were 4 when those words big words started to leave his mouth, and you never heard the end of it. Not until he died.

You uncurled your fists, took a deep breath and felt the energy cave in.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

The sudden sweetness of a voice that belonged to your sister travelled into your ears, so quietly you almost didn't hear her. Your eyes widened slightly, and when you turned around – for a moment you didn't know what to do. The girl had turned into a celebrity, and you wondered if that had changed her in any way.

"Allison?"

She took a few sharp steps your way and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in a bone-crushing hug you returned immediately.

"You're not wearing your gloves," she took note, looking tentative to touch you for a second after pulling away.

"I don't need them anymore," you stated proudly.

Your father graced you with leather gloves at the age of 4, telling you to never take them off. That in a way, you and the powers you possessed were a danger to your siblings. The dark leather gloves weren't comfortable, in fact, they felt suffocating every time you wore them. Because that's how silencing your powers feels like. Suffocating. For a second too short, you had wondered what Allison felt like. Not being able to use her voice for what it was made for.

"Well, I'm happy for you," said Allison, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "You never really liked them."

"No," you agreed with a mumble. "No, I didn't."

The two of you walked out of the hall and into the living area, legs paired with pace.

"Where is everyone?" You asked her quietly, your eyes inspecting an antique you knocked over as a kid more times than you could count.

"Diego is here, somewhere," she mused, and you raised your brows ever so slightly in surprise. "He has this weird hero complex, so he's out saving the world, I guess. Apart from us three, no one’s here yet."

"Do you know when he'll be coming back?" You wondered out loud, watching her give you an odd look a second later. "I haven't seen him in years, Allison. He's my brother."

A part of you wanted to tease her about Luther by saying that not everyone is into what they were, but you withheld it and instead locked your eyes onto your other brother.

Number Five.

"I missed you Y/N."

You smiled at her quiet voice, "Missed you too Ally."

***

"You know if I was murdered, and if one of my sons...adopted sons... happened to be able to commune with the dead, I might think about, I don't know, I don't know...manifesting!"

You attempted to stifle your laughter as you watched Klaus prance around your father's ashes in an attempt to talk to him. He wasn't sober, so you doubted it would work.

But it was pleasantly nice to see him try at least.

"I don't think he wants to talk," you interrupted him mid-vent.

You watched as his pacing stopped, his demeanor switching from crazy to collected in the seconds it took your voice to be heard. Klaus turned around slowly, beaming from one ear to another. "It's you! You're alive!"

His scream of joy brought a wide smile to your lips, and you rushed to his arms. Both of you screamed like little kids, telling how much you missed each other and how tragic life has been without one another. Making jokes on your dead father's account was overly present too.

"And you're high!" You squealed in delight, ruffling his crazy looking hair.

Klaus pulled away at that, swaying in a matter that looked like he was stretching before a run. He pointed his thumb at the ashes, "Dad's too stubborn. He won't talk to me."

"Did you try begging?" You asked amused.

"I-I guess…" He mumbled before groaning. "I'm too sober for this!"

Then his eyes snapped to you and a pout drew on his face. Klaus went to stand in front of you, grabbing your hands in his and placing them on his chest. "Y/N…"

You rolled your eyes but didn't remove them, "Yes, Klaus?"

"I was just wondering if you," He said gingerly. "You know…"

This time you did pull your hands away but placed them on his face. Teasingly you squished his cheeks like you used to when you were kids. "You want me to give you money, so you can go get high because your childhood trauma of being locked in a mausoleum catches up to you every time you're sober? Of course, I will. How much do you need?"

It took him a second to process your words. "Oh my God really?" Klaus whispered, almost as if he didn't believe that was happening.

"I tried it your way when I left -" you explained, pulling out your wallet and glancing at his stunned expression. "- to suppress my powers. It didn't work, and I continued to suffer. If that's what it takes for you to not suffer from them, I'll gladly help."

You handed him a wad of money but when he tried to take them you pulled away, "Just…be careful Klaus."

"Yeah of course I will," he replied absentmindedly before he turned his head to the side. "Shut up."

You furrowed your brows, "Did you say something Klaus?"

"Oh no, no, no, no, no," said Klaus quickly, a little too quickly. "I didn't say anything."

You hummed but swore you had caught him swing his leg at something too.

"Well, if that’s all…" you murmured, "I'll leave you to it then, I gotta go see Mom. Don't say hi to dad from me, okay? Don't you dare Klaus."

The sibling only saluted, turning around to get back to trying to reach your dad, securing the money into a pocket in his skirt.

"Hey! Wait!"

You stopped and turned back around. Klaus waved his hands at the big lone fireplace. "Can you do that thing, please?"

By that thing, he meant to say start the fire. You shrugged and walked back to the fireplace. The amount of time you lit it up for your siblings was infinite. It felt weird to do it now even though you light your fire at home with your powers all the time.

Fire comes out of your hands quickly and with ease in the shape of a golden ball, igniting the lone fireplace within seconds. You watched the inferno you created in a daze, only breaking out of it when Klaus came to stand in front of the fire to warm up.

"Love you Klaus."

"Awww I love you too sis."

You shook your head, turned and left the room.

***

"Heard you came from the moon." You mused, "Thought I'd stop by and see for myself."

When word spread that Luther was on the moon, you didn't quite believe it. Then you found out that he too came back to send your father off to the lands of the dead, and you just had to see him and ask for yourself.

It was no surprise to find him in your dad's office of all places, although at first glance he did look like an intruder. You felt yourself stiffen at the sight of a big man in a coat, looming over your father's desk imposingly. Power surged through your veins, and it took everything in you to stop it from overflowing in fear.

When your brother met your face, you exhaled in relief and a single candle lit in the room as a result.

Luther seized it, looking impressed. "You've gotten better."

"Cut the crap Number One," you snapped suddenly, the tone mainly coming from the fact that your powers activated because of the fear that came from seeing a completely new version of your brother. "First of all, what happened to you? I thought Diego would turn out like that, not you."

He shrugged his massive shoulders.

"Second of all," you began. "What are you doing in dad's office?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

Luther might look big and dangerous but the creases in his face give you all the answers you need. "You haven't changed a bit," you mused, leaning against the door. A part of you still felt young and that made you respect your father's words a little more by staying put. "Save for the…" You pointed to your torso for reference.

Luther noticed the way you eerily stood at the doorstep, contemplating whether to enter and break his word. "He's dead you know."

You shot him a look, "I know that."

"So, why don't you come in?"

You contemplated to come in, but in all honesty - nothing was of interest. You would much rather like to interrogate Luther and his whims. 

"Is Allison really the only person you care about?" You asked him instead, the bubbled feelings you've been holding inside threatening to spill. It was rather hostile, the way you two met after years of not seeing each other. A big part of you felt angry at him for not calling you when things obviously went wrong somewhere. His body wasn’t a result of something natural, and you knew it. "I mean this as a sibling. Let's ignore the weird thing you two have for each other."

"We don-" he started, your seizing eyes stopping him mid-sentence. "Is it that obvious?"

You sighed, "Look Luther, I'm just trying to say…"

"No, you're accusing me."

"Of what?"

"You left. All of you."

You snorted, "You really want to do this right now?"

"I don't see why not."

"You're looking for something," you said instead, completely ignoring his words. "I won't help you find it nor will I try to lie if you ask me if I have it."

His ears perked, "Dad's monocle."

You chuckled, "That lame thing he always wore?"

Luther nodded.

"Why do you need it?"

"You said you wouldn't lie."

"I'm not lying Luther, I just asked you a question!" You told him. A thought washed over you when his eyes pinned you in, and you could barely even grasp it. "You think I killed him, don't you?"

"I didn't say that." He tried to reason, although he didn't move from around the desk to try and soothe you.

"You didn't have to," you said quietly, feeling tears gather in your eyes. "I see the way you look at me, brother. Ever since I hurt her-"

"Don't talk about her," he stopped you.

"Why the hell not?!" You exclaimed, "She's my sister you know. Our sister. You keep forgetting that."  

Luther stayed silent after your outburst, probably contemplating whether to apologize, but you cut him from speaking before he could even start. "We were 7 Luther. I didn't know what I was doing. You think I wanted to take the air out of her lungs? She was going to rumor me Luther. I was scared."

It didn't really matter how much you repeated it to him, he never understood. His love for her goes beyond siblingship, as weird and disturbing as it was. Whoever hurt Allison became a monster in his eyes. "But anyway. I didn't steal that ugly thing. You can cross me off your list."

You looked around the office, ignoring the way Luther stood silently. The lack of light was obviously making it difficult for him to sniff around. You raised your hands in the air, watching as the tips of your fingers turned into flames. A satisfying sight, but a sight you didn't want to look at currently. With a swipe of your hand, you controlled the small blazes until they broke apart and landed at the candles, lighting up the room, so Luther can see. "Hopefully this helps."

You walked away from the office after that, not daring to look behind yourself in fear of breaking down.

***

You stomped across the academy, anger flowing off you in waves. Having your emotions tied to your feelings was never fun. The chandelier above you swayed under the wind that came from your anger and candles burnt out, the fire that came within them disappearing into your body.

"Y/N?"

Suddenly, the wind stopped, but your lip started to tremble instead. "Vanya?"

When you turned around, she stood awkwardly at the door. With hands in her pockets she glanced between the shaking chandelier and you.

It was obvious that she was uncomfortable, at least until she saw your relieved smile. "Is that really you?"

She smiled, "I-I guess."

You outright laughed, the outcome of Luther and yours argument disappearing from your mind completely when you hugged her. "I missed you so much."

"You did?" She asked surprised.

"Why wouldn't I?" You asked her, confusion crossing your features. "You're my sister. Come here."

You brought her into the hug again, feeling her hug you tighter this time.

"You're not mad at me?"

Remembering what she was talking about had you cringing ever so slightly in discomfort. You scratched the back of your neck, "I mean… I was. But not anymore, Vanya. I'm all passed that now."

"You are?" She asked, hopeful.

"I am," you nodded in confirmation. "We're here to say our goodbyes to Dad. You have every right to be here, no one can tell you otherwise."

Vanya stayed silent, so you quickly added, "And the book was good. Exposing, but good. I like your way with words."

She snorted, "Yeah I thought you would."

Beaming, you slung an arm around her shoulders just like Allison did when you first came. Unfortunately, in your dysfunctional family, no one has peace for long. Diego came striding down the stairs in his black spandex suit, looking as he just came out of an action movie.

Seeing you had his smile growing by a mile, but upon glancing at Vanya the easy smile vanished and was instead replaced by a scowl. "You're still here? I thought I already told you. You don't belong –"

"Diego," your hand raised in the air to halt his mouth. "Now's not the time."

He let out a humorous laugh, walking up to you to give you a kiss on the cheek. You didn't fight it, instead letting him kiss your cheek and squeeze your shoulder as a greeting after not seeing each other for years. "Good to have you back sis."

"Enjoy it while you can," you said. "Because I'm leaving the moment dad's ashes are spread."

"Oh, I bet," he mused. "I'm leaving too. You should go now Vanya, save us the trouble."

"Okay Diego that's enough," you interrupted, standing closer to Vanya this time round, hoping she sees your support through mere change of standing. "Why don't you run along and go save lives? I heard that's your life's call."

He rolled his eyes before glancing at your outfit. "That's an awfully bold color for a funeral."

"That's because I'm not dressed yet," you rolled your eyes. "Now, if you don't have anything nice to say, I suggest you leave before I boil you."

Knowing you don't give out empty threats, Diego nodded grimly and disappeared upstairs, not giving Vanya a glance of acknowledgement. "You know, maybe he's right… I should just go."

You shook your head immediately, "Absolutely not. Look Vanya, your book might've not been the best thing that's happened to us, but it certainly isn't the worst. He's just being snappish. That's Diego's factory setting."

She laughed, this time giving you a smile. Not a fake smile, but a real one.

You felt victorious as you wrapped your arm around her again, leading her into the living area for a catch-up.

***

"Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?"

You and Klaus held to each other like little kids, not believing what, or who, stood in front of you. The little carbon copy of your long-lost brother swore under his breath, shocking you to the bones with the word ‘shit’. "I'm not high, am I?"

"I-I don't know," said Klaus awkwardly, "Do you feel high?"

"Klaus she's not high," Diego interrupted, standing in front of the group with Luther.

"You never know with her," Klaus tried to explain.

"Five is that really you?" You asked, ignoring the bickering that went all around you.

"Of course, it's me!"

"Oh God Klaus they even sound the same," you whispered, clutching Klaus' hand tighter.

"Look I don't have time to explain this all to you," the boy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like an old man.

"The hell you do," Diego mumbled, eyeing him with menace.

Number Five (if that was even him) rolled his eyes and tried to push through and walk right past you. No 30-year-old - despite how shocked and curious they were - tried to stop him.

Save for you of course.

A lone vine flew from the wall under your command, wrapping itself around your brother's wrist in a vice-grip. Five eyed it nonchalantly, as if the sight amused him rather than intimidated him. "You do know I can walk right through that?"

You dared him with your eyes and mocked him with your mouth, "You do know that you've been gone for 17 years? I've evolved little man."

He bunched his brows together, almost as if he didn't believe you. To test his theory out, he urged his body to travel through space. You all watched as he walked straight through the air, coming out on the other end in a different part of the yard, not being able to move due to the vine's grip despite having travelled through literal space.

"Cute!" Five called out, walking back toward you using his power. "Now let me go."

"And why would she do that?" Luther asked, the inner Number One in him surfacing.

"Because I've got work to do."

"Five you're a kid literally," Allison objected, gazing over your brother's tiny body.

"You don't understand…"

"Maybe he needs a nap," Klaus mumbled next to you.

"I don’t-"

By not literal smoke was almost coming out of his little ears, his face reddened from anger, and he looked annoyed beyond understanding. "They're too young… I knew it."

You creased your brows, not understanding why Five was mumbling weird things into his chin. "You alright Five?"

He glared at you, "I will be… Once you get this thing off me."

You shrugged with a sigh, mumbling an okay and hauling the vine away from Five who shook his head in irritation. He wrapped a hand around his sore wrist, massaging it with his thumb to get read of the soreness. "Can't say I missed you and your crazy plants. Although you would've been a great addition to my adventures."

"What adventures?" You asked confused. "You’re 13."

Five sighed, brushing you all off with a sway of his hand.

Klaus was the first one to dash back into the house mumbling something about not being able to handle the weather, Allison following behind him carefully. Luther, who looked like a lost puppy, followed after your sister until it was just Vanya, Diego, Five and you left.

"I'm going to head inside," said Vanya awkwardly, disappearing inside quickly.

Diego gave Five a sideward glance but shook his head and left too.

"Elemental manipulation is exactly what we need to fight it."

You rolled your eyes, not quite believing that he forgot how elemental manipulation isn't your favorite thing. "Fight what Five?"

"The apocalypse."

"I'm glad you're back bro, seriously I mean it," You told him sincerely, "But you're crazy. I'd say get some help but…"

MASTERLIST

~

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[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Sixteen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Fifteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Seventeen

Luke pov.

“Do it again.” Ashton asks, staring at me intently.

We were about to leave my house for my surprise party, which I discovered in less than an hour. I was rehearsing a face of surprise so as not to end the surprise, cause I know everyone worked hard for it.

I widen my eyes, breaking into a smile.

“I can't believe you deceived me.” I say with my voice altered by the ‘surprise’.

“Don't say that, it will be very obvious that you know. Says ‘I can't believe you threw a party for me’.” he suggests.

"I can't believe you threw a party for me." I redo the entire acting.

“Yep! Me either. But what doesn't M&Ms ask, that I don't do?” Ash dries the water bottle with a shrug. “I'm just kidding.” he laughs after seeing my face.

“Speaking of her…” I fill my glass with some more wine, since it's too early for us to go. “Something new?” Ashton denies, frustrated too.

“I commented that she was acting weird, but she just changed the conversation and said that she's been busy and that she was nervous about the party.” he sighs. I massage my forehead, annoyed.

"Am I going to have to put her against the wall to get something?" I look at him, not knowing what to do.

“You know this isn't going to work. She's going to run away, you're going to fight, she's going to walk away and you're going to be more annoying than you already are.” I appreciate my friend's attempt to change the mood with provocation, but it has no effect.

"I can't find any reason to give me any sign of what's going on. Was it my fault? I knew I shouldn't have stayed with her that Saturday, I pushed the situation too hard and now she's pulling away, avoiding me-”

“Oh shut up! Don't even start with that.” Irwin raises his voice, cutting mine off. "Marnie isn't like that, she doesn’t do these things. If she wasn't comfortable she was going to talk. You said yourself that she asked you to sleep there. She let you pick her up on Monday and asked you to take her home, even after you dedicated Best Years to her. She didn't run away there, because it was remarkable how much she liked the song. You should pay more attention to the way she looks at you.”

A silly laugh escapes my lips when I see Ashton imitate her looking at me and smiling. My heart warms at the possibility that she is actually falling in love with me, just as I already am with her.

"Luke, if she didn't want to get back together, she wouldn't open up so many gaps and opportunities for you to be together. She must just be confused about the feelings. That's how it looked for the first time. Look, let's analyze her behavior today, after all the stress of the party and then we get stressed.”

I agree with my friend. I'm freaking out over something that shouldn't be very important. Maybe it's all the pressure with finishing the album. The release date is approaching and sure enough, Jim freaking out in my ear for the publicity trip we were supposed to be doing, but we're still going against it due to Marnie's accident.

I don't know how many times I have to tell him I'm not leaving LA yet. This delay wasn't hindering anything, so I don't know why he makes such a point.

“Go, get rid of that dead face and let's enjoy your party.” Ash slaps my shoulder.

We left the house, heading to Jack's house, where the party would be. I've been training my face the entire way, wanting it to be as realistic as possible, even though everyone already suspects that I know.

Even if I didn't know it, the moment I see the street full of cars, I realize that I would find out there. Irwin tells them we're coming and I notice the noise of the music fade away. Discreet.

We entered the house, finding everything quiet and tidy. But when we turn to the kitchen and garden, a lot of people scream in surprise. I take a step back, like I'm really shocked.

"I can't believe you did that." I look at Ash, wanting to see that I did well. But his expression ‘so so’ disappoints me.

“In the car it was better.” he says before walking away and letting people get closer.

I don't know how many people I hugged, but I know the only one I wanted to see was the last one to arrive. I hold my breath, seeing her in a black leather skirt and a transparent black blouse, highlighting her tattoo between her breasts.

I swallow hard, cracking a nervous smile as she approaches with a huge grin, almost jumping into my lap. Unlike yesterday, where I just got a congratulations message, M&Ms hug me, leaving a lingering kiss on my cheek.

“Happy Birthday!” the gleam in her eyes proves to me she's already a little high.

I resist the urge to steal a kiss from her lips, just kissing her cheek back but giving her waist a squeeze, pressing her against my body. She seems to notice my intent, drastically changing her breathing.

"I wanted to talk to you later. If possible.” I say against her ear.

“About?” her eyes sweep me for any clues.

“Surprise.” I reveal, seeing her roll her eyes in agreement.

I watch her walk away with the girls, but she doesn't fully break eye contact with me, looking at me from afar. I let out a breath, realizing it's going to be a long night and another long battle to resist her and the urge to take her to a dark corner.

In the kitchen, where most of the drinks are, I start my work, drinking the alcohol, enjoying the burning sensation that the liquid leaves in my throat. I get distracted with video game conversation and allow my mind to relax with lighter, more relaxed topics.

The party had been going on for a few hours. My head is already light, due to the high alcohol content my body retains. I know I'm laughing at some bullshit Brian is talking about, even though his words don't make any sense in my mind. Maybe I've already had too much to drink and it's better to stop for a while. I don't want to be sick at my own party.

The term vibrates in my mind and I start searching the crowd for the cotton candy hair, worried about her condition. The feeling pulls my head out of the air, sobering me up for a few minutes.

I find her dancing hand in hand with Noah, laughing at the older man's exaggerated steps. I stare at the scene, happy that she is enjoying herself. Unlike at the beginning of the week, Marnie is now upbeat and not acting. Maybe Irwin is right and she was just stressed about the birthday party.

I push my thoughts away, concentrating on yet another beer pong game. I've played more times than I could count and I'm starting to doubt the two arms Jack has won since my last drink.

“Problems.” Michael sings beside me, pointing to the door. Pam walked in smiling excitedly, holding hands with a guy who sure as hell didn't want to be there. It's not possible…

Sobriety hits me like a cannon. All the alcohol and smoke that was in my body is gone and I am able to think clearly for the first time since I arrived.

I massage my forehead, bringing my gaze to Marnie, who's already staring at Pam without a specific expression. I cross the room with incredible ease, reaching for her, hugging her waist, pulling her to me.

“We can talk now?” Marnie didn't even seem to hear me, still staring at Pam, who was greeting some people. "M&Ms?" I call closer to her ear, but no effect. “Hey!” I drop a kiss to her temple, squeezing her waist.

Her green eyes cross mine and I can palpate the insecurity in them. Marnie just nodded, letting me lead her out of the room. We went up to a room, being alone. I look at her face, still half lost, and I approach slowly, feeling that little box weigh tons in my pocket.

“What do you want to talk about?” she gives a slight smile, turning her full attention to me.

“First I wanted to apologize for Pam. I didn't know what she was going to come.” Marnie rolls her eyes, shrugging.

“It’s OK! No need to apologize. My head is so full I don't even care about her anymore.” she sits up in bed, crossing her legs.

“And I believe she won't even mind us today, after all, she came with someone” I sat beside her.

“Yeah! Poor guy.” I let out a laugh at her pity for the poor boy. “It was just that?”

I lose myself in her eyes for a few seconds, wondering if that's all. I draw her face in my mind once more, recording every feature I fell in love with. My lips tingle as I landed my eyes on her mouth, slightly reddened by the drink.

At another time, right now she and I would be locked in some bathroom or bedroom, succumbing to desire and the alcohol in our blood. My fingertips ache amidst the memories of all the times I have run across her skin, feeling it burn under my touch.

My mind starts to cloud and the flashes of the two of us become more and more vivid. I try to push those thoughts away, but they seem to sink into my mind with force. My body heats up with every scene my mind plays. I feel the blood running the wrong way and I don't know how to stop it.

"Luke?" I'm startled by your touch on my hand. Marnie was looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Are you okay?” I watch her hand squeeze mine, like she always did when I was angry or upset.

And just with that touch, everything stops inside me. The fire is gone and now I'm seized by a gigantic pain and rage in my chest, a rage for her being ripped from me so abruptly. I stare at her fingers moving gently, transmitting a caress throughout my body.

"Luke?" now she was looking at me extremely worried.

“Sorry. I think the drink hit.” I open a smile, trying to calm her down. M&Ms don't seem to buy much, but she smiles smugly.

“I already told you you're drinking a lot. In a little while you'll be passed out and won't even enjoy your own birthday party.” my smile widens in the midst of her care. "Don't give me that smile." she pushes my face away. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

“No!” this time I answer faster. “Actually, I wanted to give you something.” I fish the little white box in my pocket, feeling my fingers as soft as jelly. What if she doesn't like it? What if she gets angry?

“You know it's your birthday, right? You're the one who should get presents, not give. Especially for me.” she looks at me angrily, not wanting to accept the box.

"Well, it's my birthday and I'll do what I want, in which case I give it to you." I place the object in her hands. “I wanted to wait until your birthday, but it's still far away and I can't take it.” I lift my shoulders quickly, making her laugh.

Taking advantage of the fact that she was involved with the present, slowly, I move closer to her body, contenting myself with the least contact we have. I notice Marnie hold her breath at the sight of the blue quartz necklace, just like the one she had.

With no more reaction than that, I start to convince myself that I've fucked up and she hated it. It wasn't the time yet, as much as everything was going well, it wasn't the time yet.

“I can't believe you did this.” her voice comes out in a breath in surprise. I let my mind race to our first Christmas, where she gave me my necklace and I gave that star to her.

“If you don't like it…” my voice trails off as I see her eyes watery and filled with joy. It was the right time.

I'm not afraid to advance towards her, covering your lips with mine in a short kiss. The cherry taste becomes my favorite for the rest of the night. Marnie wipes her tears as she calls herself pathetic for crying.

"I know we used it as a dating ring, but it doesn't have to be-”

"Could you put it on for me?" she interrupts me, not caring about my fear. With my hands still trembling and cold, I close the necklace around her neck, enjoying the scene of her smiling enchanted by that stone. “Thanks!”

This time it is she who steps forward, stealing a kiss. The mood changes drastically. The screams outside seem to die in my ears, leaving only silence. The music that used to burst had ceased to exist.

That little kiss breaks, but she doesn't pull away, keeping her forehead still glued to mine. I'm startled when her eyes return to mine, I can see her perfectly there, in front of me, in my arms. I recognize that glow, that look and what it wanted to convey.

It was her there. The reason I get up every morning. The reason that makes me want to be better and better. The person I always want to impress. My girl. My Marnie.

I bring my hand to the back of her neck, bringing our lips together once more. I feel goose bumps as our tongues touch and her hand cups my face, holding me there. If she knew the last thing I want is to run away…

I'm surprised I feel despair on her side. The urgency on her lips. The need for the touch of her hands, the way they ran through my hair, the back of my neck and chest.

Easily, I pull her onto my lap, moaning, feeling her body against mine after so long. The fire that had previously ceased inside me, runs again through my veins, making everything too cloudy. I can't reason whether this was right or not. We both drink too much. She still hasn't given me full openness to so much attitude, even though she's still here, kissing me.

I try for a few minutes to clear my mind, to be a little rational and not get carried away by emotion, but the sound her mouth makes when I touch her neck with my lips ruins whatever train of thought I was building.

I touch the exact spots that make her moan and scramble for more friction. I watch thirstily as her eyes roll back and her lip is bitten in an attempt to control the moans. Her nails scratch the back of my neck, releasing an electric current that migrates between my legs.

I gasp when I feel her rub against my groin, spreading a current throughout my body. I want to beg her to do it again, but it's not really necessary, she knows and she does. So excruciating, but so good. Again I am startled to find that glow that I knew so much. I wonder where this Marnie was all along.

I shove my hand inside her shirt, enjoying her burning skin. I stroke the spot below her bra with my thumb, wanting not to frighten her. I suck the skin under her ear, lapping it with my tongue. My body combusts as she stirs and presses her crotch harder against mine. I cup her breast with enjoyment, hearing her call my name the way I liked it best.

Her desperate hands run inside my jacket, wanting to throw it away. I was ready to help when a heavy knock on the door disrupts our moment.

"What the fuck is it?" anger rips up my throat, causing a very angry scream. So much time to interrupt.

"It's time to cut the cake." I hear Calum's voice and feel like throwing him from the second floor.

“Serious? Stick the cake in your-” two small hands cover my mouth, preventing me from continuing.

“We're on our way, Cal.” Marnie yells louder and breathless.

I watch your body soften, lost and, I fear, even regretful. She is no longer there. She avoids looking at me, perhaps out of shame.

“It was better this way.” her sweet voice comes closer to a whisper.

“Was?” I stare at her, not wanting to accept that I was the only one to feel it. I know I wasn't, because her expression tells me I'm right.

“Was! You know it was.” her tone is still sweet, but her gaze is hard. "I think we'd better go downstairs." she gets up carefully, getting out of bed. I throw my head against my hands, visibly frustrated.

"Go ahead, I need to get both heads in place." I throw my body against the mattress.

“Sorry, Luke.” I can't stand her feeling guilty when she's the biggest victim of all this.

"M&Ms?" I leap out of bed, grabbing her before disappearing through the door. “It's not your fault. I'm the one who lost control, I'm sorry. You didn't give me the opening to attack you like that and I let myself go…” her lips silence me.

“It wasn't anyone's fault, can we do that?” I nod, stealing the last kiss before I let her go. "I'll wait for you downstairs." she announce.

I turn around, heading back to bed, still feeling frustration coursing through my veins.

“Hey!” I turn to see her there, standing in the doorway. My chest races with yearning from the many times I've seen her do the same scene. My ears and heart ache wanting to hear those words that always came next. Those three words that were so beautiful in her mouth. “Thanks for this.” she smiles and leaves.

I stare at the wood, snapping back to reality. I'm such an idiot for thinking she was going to say she loves me. I hide my face, exhausted. I look across the bed, able to see the two of us there, so given to each other.

I replay the scene in my head, tasting her kiss on my lips. Feeling my body tingle, still wanting her touch. The pressure on my pants becomes bigger and more uncomfortable. I need to make this go away. I scramble my mind for many things to calm myself down, but I can't. I can still feel her hands running around the back of my neck and her groin against mine.

"Shit!" I give up, going to the bathroom and locking myself in there. I don't care if I'm late, or what they think. I won't be able to eliminate this with thoughts alone.

I lower my pants and underwear, releasing my already throbbing member. I run my hand over it, making my body vibrate in relief. I let my mind flood with all thoughts and memories with her, feeling my body inflate further.

I increase my speed, being able to feel her touch through my body. I punch the wall, feeling my stomach contract. I rest my forehead against the cool coating, letting out several sighs. Her eyes flash in my mind.

The many times I've seen her face twist in pure orgasm under my touch. That smirk and that vulgar glow she always lets off before pulling me aside. And I always did, like a puppy.

My breathing gets out of control as I reach my orgasm. A wave of relief and lightness overcomes me, along with a wave of guilt. It must have been the 15th time since it all happened.

I can't have her. I can't stand the idea of ​​looking for someone else, even though we are not officially together, so I have to get by with baths and my bare hands, but as a result I feel like the dirtiest human being, as she doesn't even suspect.

I walk down the stairs, not attracting any attention. I find her sitting on the couch, on Leah's lap, laughing at some imitation Ashton was doing. I approach the group, who make no fuss about my delay.

I pick up the bottle of white wine on the coffee table, flipping half the contents. I feel her green eyes burn on me and I don't even have the courage to reciprocate by ignoring her.

“Is everything OK? Sorry if I messed something up.” Hood says next.

“It's OK! In fact, it was better, if you didn't show up, we would have done something stupid.” I say dry.

"Is that why this sour face?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I'm feeling awful for almost bringing her to this and not having the conscience to stop." I reveal a part of the guilt that burns in me.

“Luke, you are not complete strangers. And maybe she really wanted to go further, she just didn't know how. After all, at that moment she was supposed to be your f-”

"I know!" I cut it off, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence.

For my salvation, someone starts to sing happy birthday and the matter is closed. I open a smile disguising the shit my head was on. Michael puts a little purple hat on my head, blowing a plastic horn, very excited.

The scene makes me laugh, relieving the stress. I watch Leah and Kyleen swing colorful pom poms behind Marnie, who is holding a small cake with several candles.

I look deep into her eyes, noticing her happiness to be there and somehow mine too. After all, she's here, even if she doesn't remember much, she's still here. The accident could have been a lot worse and I could have lost her forever.

I push the damn thoughts away, blowing out the candles and driving everyone crazy. I'm surprised when Marnie leans in, stealing a kiss, not caring that she's in front of everyone. Her rosy cheeks manage to steal a smile far bigger than Michael did.

In the back of the room, I notice Pam with her arms crossed and sulking. I don't know if Marnie did it on purpose, intent on teasing, but something she did, and if Pam is pissed off, we're happy.

The clock was already showing around 5:00 in the morning. I've already fluctuated my alcohol level more times than I can count. While the boys filled me with rum, M&Ms filled me with water and food, afraid I would go into an alcoholic coma or whatever. Of course I took advantage of her concern and all the attention she was giving me.

At some point during the party, Michael took over the DJ's table and there we were, jumping up behind him, singing I Want It That Way at the top of our lungs, with the lost girls trying to do the choreography. That was definitely the best thing about the party, right after my moment with Marnie in the bedroom.

Right after his moment commanding the party's playlist, Clifford decided to climb on the roof to jump into the pool. Something that was already taking a while to happen. What he and no one expected was Marnie yelling at him, worried.

“It's comical, because if it weren't for the amnesia and the lack of alcohol, she would be the one on the roof.” Irwin comments lying beside me, watching the scene of her yelling at Michael, asking him to come down.

“And we called the fire department because she got stuck again.” I shake my head, wanting not to laugh at the memories. “Good times.” I'm toasting my friend, still watching her worriedly behind the older one.

Sitting in the garden, talking to some friends, I watch the girl laughing in a circle with Noah and Calum. She gets up, walking into the house, returning in a few minutes. I watch her come around, stopping behind me.

“Now the one who needs to talk is me.” she whispers in my ear. I don't think twice about taking your hand and heading out of the wheel chat.

I can see a large package in her hands and the idea of ​​being my gift makes me anxious. A little farther away from the mess that remained, she hands me the black box with a gold bow on top. Before opening it, I take a look at her excited smile, letting out a laugh.

I find five rings and three necklaces arranged around the box. I can't hold back the smile, seeing what she's chosen. I know I might look like an idiot for some jewelry, but it's amazing jewelry she picked out.

“You liked?” she bites her lower lip, curious.

“I loved!” I hug your body, thanking her. I know she has no intentions other than to give me a birthday present, but of course I will wear these rings and necklaces with more affection than usual. “Thanks.” I mean, still ecstatic.

Hand in hand, we approached the crowd again, bumping into Kiki, Sophie and Michael.

“We were thinking about going to Michael's house. The party is already boring and I'm hungry.” Kiki comments. I look a little offended at her, after all, that was my birthday party. “Oh! Nothing personal.” she laughs, slapping me on the shoulder.

“What do you think?” I ask the M&Ms, who shrug their shoulders. "Have you talked to the rest?"

“Leah was going to call Noah and Ash, we were going to rescue Calum.”

“OK! We'll get our stuff and meet you at the door.” Marnie agrees and so we disperse.

Still holding hands, we walked back upstairs, looking for her bag. In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of vodka, a tequila, and a whiskey, trying to put everything in my bag, but it doesn't quite work.

“We should take advantage of the gathering and have your liver funeral.” I turn to Marnie who glares at me, seeing three bottles in my arm and me struggling to open one of beer.

Easily, we made our way to the front door, finding Kiki and Sophie. Gradually, everyone arrived and so we left the party, without saying goodbye to anyone.

“Uh, tequila?” Hood comes towards me, hugging the bottle.

Michael's house was the closest and, having drunk too much, we thought we'd better walk.

On the way, we stopped at a bakery, buying a bunch of things to eat. The day was already showing signs of life when we arrived at Mike's house. At the dinner table, we spread out the stolen drinks and food, starting our round table, as well as picking up several board games that Michael kept.

“I wanted to propose a toast to Mr. Luke Hemmings.” Noah draws the toast, making everyone raise their glasses and bottles. “One of the few people worth meeting in this hellish city where you can't trust anyone. The other people are unfortunately not present…”

A shower of paper balls and food flies towards the 20 minutes older twin. I'm surprised when I watch Marnie leave my arms, standing up.

“I also wanted to give a speech.”

“You didn't have to, babe.” I say, shaking her hand that still had our fingers intertwined.

“It's not about you.” she sticks out her tongue, causing everyone to scream.

“Ouch!” I put my hand to my chest, accepting the blow and still feeling my heart race.

“Shut up.” she screams, laughing. “Well, I wanted to make this toast in thanks to all of you. I know it's been three years of friendship, but for me it's only been a month and even with all the confusion and breakup.” her fingers squeeze mine and I move them, giving them a light caress. “You still took me in and took great care of me. I am eternally grateful for that. Leah doesn't even start crying, I need to get this over with and if I cry it's going to go wrong.” the mood breaks a little with the laughter. “Bottom line, I just want to say that whatever the future holds, I like you all a lot and that this isn't just a bunch of crazy friendship the universe threw at me, it's the family I've been looking for. As Noah said, you're the few people worth living in this hell of a city and I love you all so much. Cheers!”

Everyone raises their glasses once more, toasting her speech. I cross my gaze with Leah, who has also noticed something odd. She still hadn't commented on Monday's episode and I still had it hanging around in my mind.

It was very visible that something was troubling her. Her eyes wandering lost, her disappearance since Monday until today, claiming to be super busy and out of time. Everyone was sensing that something was wrong, but she wouldn't let go or comment on it.

“Especially you.” I focus my attention on her, who settles back into my arms. “Regardless of our future, I like you very much.” she whispers, before pressing her lips to mine. “Please never forget that. Promise?”

I get lost in her eyes, noticing a hint of fear and pain in them. It's horrible to see her like this and not know what to do. For nothing in this world I want her to feel unprotected or alone, she said herself that we are a family, so she wouldn't have to face anything alone.

“Only if you promise me you'll tell me what's going on.” I play hard, not caring if this becomes an issue between us, or if it pushes her away a little.

“Luke…” my name comes out in a painful sigh.

"Marnie." I say her name harshly, wanting her to understand that I won't change my mind.

“I'll tell. Just not today. Today is your day and that's what matters to me. So please let's enjoy?” she begs. As always, I surrender, nodding. I drop a kiss to her forehead, before pulling her to my chest again.

Hastings still looks at me suspiciously and unfortunately I only have reason to agree with her. Something was up with Marnie and she didn't want to tell us.

A minute of silence, our baby is turning 25 today and I am not knowing how to handle it.

[startreckobsessed]

Let you go

Hi! Can i make a request? 🥺 For AOS Leonard Mccoy? With a lil bit of TOS Old Spock. Should probably set on Into Darkness, Bones and reader broke up between the event of the first and second film, so bones was a bit unbothered to flirt with Dr.Marcus (he’s trying to make reader jealous). Old spock talk them out of their misery by telling them that they’re story was quiet unique because in his timeline they didn’t even met, so they should cherish it. (Or whatever, as long as spock intervenes). They talk, and made up. And oh, fluff. Emotional tear jerking fluff. Thank you thank you!!

I have this idea (this was supposed to be a different request, but hey! ), that reader used to date and was in love with this hotshot before she met Leonard. Said ex died in action as a honored captain. Reader was devistated. Again this was supposed a different request, but you can make it as a back story. Can i make this my second request? Hehe 🥺😅

@lykxzandlove Thank you for requesting darling, and thanks for your patience, this one really faught me haha. If you recognise some of the dialogue it's from thirteen reasons why.

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST. I may or may not have cried while writing this.

[[READ MORE]]

You stood in rank dressed in your grey uniform, cap framing your line of vision, shoulder to shoulder between checkov and Sulu as you gazed up at the podium where captain pike was speaking.

"Exceptional courage, is what drives us....

And our crew, is what fuels us..."

Your crew had just finished the first two year leg of your mission. A long two years...

"Let's take a moment to pay tribute to past captain's whom have made the ultimate sacrifice..." the images roll, and a firmiliar face flashed before your eyes and you suck in a breath, squeazing your eyes shut to keep your tears at bay.

You breath out carefully out of your nose, trying desperately to keep the sudden onslaught of emotions contained.

People told you time would numb it, but even give years later, the pain was still fresh and raw each and every time you heard his name, or saw his picture pop up in your records.

You gritted your teeth, struggling to ground yourself in this moment, focusing on your feet on the ground.

You blinked harshly, lifting your face and focusing your attention on captain Pike.

You don't fail to notice the doctors face turned toward you, no doubt brows mashed together over concerned eyes. The urge to meet his eyes and sink into their depths is nearly overpowers your will, but you hold strong, chin high.

------

You had never meant to fall for Leonard. You were deep in it before you even realised what was happening. You were complacent with where you were, some people go their entire lives without knowing true love, you got yours. You didn't feel the need for a new one. But there he came, blazing and true like a comment blasting across the black abyss your crew so faithfully piloted. It happened so naturally, slipping through your defences so you never noticed it.

Until it was too late, and both of you had been wounded in the process.

----

"Sweetheart?" Leonard called from behind you. You cursed silently, slowly turning to face him, trying to keep the guilt off your face as you turned to face him. "You should probably stop calling me that.." You said softly. He frowned, and not the way you liked when he was being sardonic or adorably frustrated with the captain, this one was real.

"Sorry." He said "habit. Are you alright? You left the ceremony yesterday so quickly..." you shake your head, looking away from him. "Fine, I'm fine." You said, swiftly turning and walking away from him. He frowned, looking after you, not noticing his hand was slightly extended, reaching out for you.

------

Later that day, you made your way down to the mess hall, spotting the old Ambasseter Spock, sitting alone by a window. You go through and get your food before approaching the table, greeted by a warm smile.

"Hello ambassator, " you awenered with your own. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all Y/N. Your company has always always been welcome." You sit down across from him. "Do tell me, how is the good doctor doing." Your fork freezes near your mouth before you set it down. "Oh, I don't know." He frowns deeply.

"I can't imagine why not." He says. "We-" your voice cracks. You clear your throat. "Were not together anymore." Suprise flits crosses his face.

"Well, now that can't be right." He says. You grimace, "I know, nothing feels right anymore, it's like reality has been tilted on its hinges, but..."

"If you don't mind me prying..." He prompts. "Go ahead, you can ask."

"What caused the separation?"

"me." You say thickly. Unexpectedly he reaches across the table and pats your hand in a grandfatherly gesture.

"And by my estimation, you do not seem satisfied with the conclusion, correct?" You hesitate before nodding. "Then mabey its time to rethink that course of action?" Your eyes widen before you look down at the table, shame radiating off of you. "I can't do that, I've already hurt him too bad, I still hurt him." You grimace, thinking of the encounter in the hallway. "I don't know how to stop hurting him." You say, more to yourself than to him.

"Then perhapse it's time to discover what is hurting you." He says. You look away into the porthole, into the black inky abyss that you sometimes wished would swallow you up.

"You know, you two are a remarkable pair." You look at him quissicly. "What makes you say that?" "In every universe I've traveled there are differences, the events in a person's life, and how they react to them, shape who they become. In every universe a different set of events happen in both of your lives, and yet every single time, one of the only constants I find are both of you coming together, no matter the space or the time nor the obstacles placed before you, the one constant is your souls coming together. And from what I can tell, it hurts your souls to be apart."

Question bubbles to your lips, but you silence it. "Ask your question, Y/N." You smile grimly. "You know me too well." "Well I've only had two lifetimes to know you."

"Where you come from... what are we like?" He smiles fondly, memories coming back to him. He sighs in a melancholy way.

"Your other self passed on just a few months ago, from a human ailement not yet curable, he blames himself for not being able to save you." Your eyes widened before blinking in shock. "Wow, thats... God how is he?" He frowns even more deeply. "Trying to go day by day, but losing someone one loves so deeply for so long... is not an easy thing to accommodate to." "Well whats.." many questions bubble to your lips at once before deciding on one. "I-Is he alone?" You ask, voice cracking. He shakes his head. "The good captain has come to earth to stay with hm, along with your daughter and grandchildren." "Joanna?" He smiles just slightly. "Well I couldn't give everything away could I?" You bark out a teary laugh and he chuckles. "But time, is so very precious my dear, you yourself told me that after your diagnosis." "Well, at least one of us has sense."

"But to thoroughly awenser your question, might I go over a timeline?" "Yes, I'd like that." You sigh, resting your head on your palm. "You met on this ship, like so many other times...."

--------

A few days later, you smooth down your hair as you look in the mirror. You were ready to come clean with Leonard about everything you've been keeping buried. Your heart thundered at the thought of unearthing the source of so much pain, but you were ready to start again with him, start fresh, open and raw, with no secrets.

You exited your quarters and went looking for him. Your fingers nervously tapped against your legs as you walked, looking for him, first going to the Med bay. Christine greeted you, her brows burrowing when you ask for him. "Oh hun, he's off planet on a mission." "Oh." You say "thank you Christine." You say before dashing off for the bridge, where you knew they'd be monitoring.

The tube doors opened up and you made your way to stand next to the captains chair, where Jim was watching. He greeted you silently with a nod, both of you listening to the audio feed coming in. You asked what they were doing, knowing he could probably hear you being so close to Jim. Jim quietly filled you in. "We found some ancient Clingon battle tech on this planet, were trying to salvage it."

"Well sweetheart, there something I can help you with?" His voice came through painfully clear, flirtatious and laying it on thick. Your heart seized and you swallowed against the lump suddenly stuck in your throat

Jim eyed you warily "Dr. McCoy may I remind you you are not there to flirt." He said in a stern voice, concerned for your feelings. Dr. Marcus' voice rang in. "We've got it, beam us up."

Once you saw him you forgot that you were surrounded by your crewmates, your hurt voice ringing out.

"You... You called her sweetheart." You said, betrayal filling you, eyes filling with tears.

Without another word you took off down the adjoining hallway, Leonard taking off after you. You sped until you were in an abandoned hallway two floors down with him still following.

Your face got hot, embarasment taking hold. You didn't want to cry over a tiny little word.

His eyes widened, regret filling them when he saw how hurt you were. "Baby- " he stopped himself. He only called you baby when he was really concerned.

"No, no I'm sorry. It's okay, Carols great, she's a great person." You forced out, turning to try and walk away. He grabbed your arm spinning you back around. "I don't want Carol. I want you. I'm sorry." You blinked. "So your not ready to move on?" He shakes his head vehidamently. "It was stupid. So stupid. I've never done anything like that in my life. I wanted to make you jealous." It felt like all the air was sucked from your lungs.

"You still want me? After evrything-" he shakes his head. "My god woman, were you listening? Yes! I love you." He breaths, gently squeezing your bicep. "But I- I hurt you! I broke up with you without giving you a reason-" "I know, sweetheart." He says Your heart stopped.

"You know?"

"I know as much as I can guess. But why don't you tell me?" You took a shuddering breath.

"So you know I was on a different ship before this one."

"Yes."

"When I went onto that ship from the academy, I came with the captain. He made it so we'd make it onto the same ship, because we were..."

"together?"

You nodded. "We loved each other. He was my captain, and I was by his side as head of security and defense tactics." He nodded, fingers pressed against his lips as he listened. "One day, we were attacked by an enemy bregade, and crash landed us on a deserted planet. In order to save me, he threw himself in front the lazer that would have incinerated me and two other crew members. They would have killed all of us, all it did was incinerate him.

After he was killed the crew, furious overpowered them, and we survived, but..." You trailed off, before looking back to him. "How did you know?"

He sighed, as if debating telling you something. "As part of protocol, a captain must... gain permission from Starfleet to enter into marriage with another crew mate. His request form was entered just a few days before his death, with your name attached." You stilled, before another wave of emotion crashed over you. A sob escaped you, and you leaned against the wall for support, a hand coming up to try to muffle your cries.

Leonard watched you with glassy eyes, your pain like a twisting knife in his chest. He waited for a moment before slowly inching forward to wrap his arms around you, testing the waters. You pull him closer, wrapping your arms tightly around him, his warmth sinking into your cold body. "I'm sorry." He whispers into your neck. "I'm so sorry." You shake your head, pressing your face into his neck. His scent calmed you, and eventually your breathing slowed as his hands rubbed your back. "I love you." You said, his hands paused, and he untangled himself to look at you, hope in his eyes. "Really?" "Yes, I'm sorry I made such a mess. Do you want to try this again?" You ask. He let out a breathless chuckle before pressing his lips to your forehead. "Yes, God yes." You smile teary eyed, bittersweet joy filling you. You placed your hands on both sides of his face before giving him a slow melting kiss, thumbs stroking his face. "I just have to do something first." You say. His brows crease slightly, but he let's you go. "Okay.." He says uuncertainly

You smile. "I'll come and see you at dinner, okay?" "Yeah, I'll see you."

---------

You entered your quarters without turning on the light, blindly reaching for your padd. It glowed brightly in the darkness of your room, easily finding the picture of him you loved the most, him dashing in his captains uniform hat just a little bit crooked, every inch of him glowing from happiness. Hot thick tears leaked from your eyes as You gently placed your padd on the table in front of your window, his face materializing against the empty black abyss, somewhere where you knew his ashes were scattered, floating forever in the universe, amidst stardust and wonder.

"I love you." You whispered into the silence, looking at him. "Wherever you are, I hope you know that I love you. I hope you know that I'll never not love you... a good friend once told me, I can love you, and still let you go.... I know one day, thinking about you won't hurt so much, and the other feelings will fade, and I'll be only left with love. The way you loved me so fiercly and how i loved you. I'll never forget you i promise, how could I? Even when I'm dying I know you'll come back to me, when I'm old and tired. But there is this amazing man that I love that wants to love me, and I think I'm ready to be happy again. I know you'd want me to be." You looked back at his flickering image

"I hope we meet again. And So, Derek.... I love you, and I let you go. And I hope wherever you are, you feel peace, you feel safe...and I hope you know that I love you." You say, a feeling of weight being stripped off of you makes you feel lighter, and a strange peace settles over you, and somehow you know he hears you.

"I'll never forget you."

[honeytea8]

Virtue & Vice • Dio Brando/Reader

A/N: Discord prompt for the week was Masquerade AU, so I decided to write for Dio Brando, using @sammystep’s beautiful bedroom and mask renders as inspiration 😏 (seriously, they are amazing, so check them out at the end of the fic!!); Also written to be gender neutral, so please let me know if I messed up anywhere!

Word Count: 2.9K

Summary: With your estranged cousin in a town full of rumors and ghost stories, it’s rather obvious you’re in for an interesting weekend. Somehow, you catch the eye of an insatiable beast, and whether you manage to survive him is left completely up to you.

Warnings/Disclaimers: Subtle references to Stone Ocean, heavily implied sexual content, Dio monologuing lol

In every city you’ve visited, there was always talk, and by talk, you meant gossip. Grapevines grew from thin air, spreading until the town was entangled in a sickness you liked to call Hearsay. You had witnessed this far too many times in the past, the novelty having worn off a long time ago. But on occasion, you liked to lend an ear to the particularly interesting ones—stories that left you searching for that innocuous sliver of truth amidst fairy tale.

Most times, however, it was merely a drunk spewing his usual nonsense to any person willing to listen. You were rarely ever an audience to such. Still, nothing quite chilled your bones like the tale recounted by one of the strangest men you’ve ever met.

It had been late in the evening, but not too late that the barmaid was not still serving homemade pies and cold drinks to her patrons.

A man only a few years older than yourself was perched on a rickety wooden chair nearby; it gave a high-pitched squeak every time he shifted. He had been there upon your arrival and would likely be there after you were gone. His clothes were drenched in sweat, boots caked in mud. You noticed him observing you from under the brim of his ten-gallon hat, though the rest of his face remained hidden. The nearest available seat just so happened to be right by his own, you hesitated, but ultimately took it.

Your fingers were frozen like cubes of ice and you breathed on them in a fruitless attempt to help them thaw. The barmaid made her rounds and eventually came to you. Only then were you able to order something to warm you up, a simple cup of coffee would suffice. You sat silent and unassuming, content with minding your own business until a gruff voice reached out to you, almost as if his words grew an arm and gripped your shoulder.

“Yer face,” he muttered in your direction. “S’like someone I can trust.”

You blinked at him. The implications behind his words were not lost on you. In fact, it was something you heard quite often. For your own mother had delivered you into a cruel world, and was quick to brand you with a trademark that has followed you for as long as you could recall: an angel.

In return, people seemed to gravitate towards you—were always intrigued by you, listening and speaking to you, soothed by your very nature and presence. It was a gift, you supposed. And like any gift, you preferred to use it for good. Whether it be to share in another’s burdens, or to relieve them of it entirely.

“Is there something you would like to share?” you replied back.

He hummed, then took a long swig of his whiskey in preparation. “Yeah, somethin's kept me up fer days actually.”

“What has?”

“I used ‘ta butle for a lord here in this town—hmm, well ta be frank it was only for a lil’ while... was dismissed soon after.”

The man continued without giving any clear answer to your question, but you assumed a bit of patience would grant you the full story.

“I'm sorry about your job.” you said out of courtesy, but he waved you off.

“Don’t be. S’better this way.” he took another sip, draining the glass in one go and waved for another round. “You believe in heaven?”

“Heaven? Like… the place where good people go when they pass on...? I—I’m not too sure.”

“S’alright.” he smiled for the first time, wide lips stretching across his face handsomely. He looked rather boyish with his half dimple and cleft chin. His expression was almost endearing. You figured he might’ve been quite the charmer when sober. “Name’s Hol Horse, by the way.”

“Hol Horse, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

You introduced yourself as well, to which he tipped his hat in greeting. The whole exchange was rather odd, but you went along with it for the sake of your own budding curiosity.

Hol Horse cast a wary glance around the room. You too chanced a brief look, but not as thoroughly as your companion. Obviously, no one was listening. You smiled and silently encouraged him to surrender the burden laying heavy on his conscience.

Hol Horse gave you his story. Some parts he gave in detail—others he offered in threadbare comments, giving only the minimum for you to catch the gist. From what you could piece together, he had worked as a servant under a young lord in the countryside. It was a large estate left behind by a ‘Sir Joestar’ who had passed away many years ago due to illness. His only adopted son was left to inherit the fortune, along with several of the businesses in town. That was as far as Hol Horse knew, more surprisingly, he had never even laid eyes on his employer during his tenure. Any and every form of correspondence was made through the lord's right hand.

At one point, you were beginning to wonder what picture Hol Horse was trying to paint here. Why did any of this matter? Regardless, it was the earnest pull of his voice that kept you rooted to your seat. That, and the fact that he had seemed to grow even more...disturbed the longer he spoke. His brows were pinched while he thought, showing his great displeasure. You truly hoped, for his sake, that confessing whatever was killing him inside would finally put his heart at ease.

In a lowered tone, he revealed the true cause of his troubles. He had spotted a number of bloodied sheets being carted away from his lord’s sleeping quarters, men and women’s clothing torn to shreds and disposed of in an incinerator. Certain staff members with superhuman strengths and abilities. Phantoms, ghosts, demonic spirits. All culminated by the devastating amount of missing persons. These were some serious, and if you were honest, strange allegations.

“My apologies,” you interrupted, “but I’m not sure I follow.”

“I’m sayin’ that some crazy shit’s goin’ on in this town, and I wouldn’t feel too inclined ta stay if I were you.”

You pursed your lips, far too stunned for words.

“Heaven.” he uttered like a curse. There was a sudden quiver in his lips, that sent a chill racing down your spine. It wasn’t just about ‘heaven’. More specifically, Hol Horse was convinced there existed a way to call it forth.

The sheer ridiculousness of this statement seized your attention. The man was so obviously intoxicated, but spoke like these were irrefutable facts that he too struggled to come to terms with.

A heaven within the reach of mere mortals? Powers no man had any business wielding? It was absolutely ludicrous! But your gut, which had saved you countless times in the past, urged you to not cast this tale aside.

You wondered if this made you a fool.

.

.

.

You had only come to this town per invitation from a distant, older cousin. And while distant by blood, she was also distant to you in nearly every other aspect as well. You and your cousin, Gwess, scarcely saw one another due to a series of familial barriers. By all accounts, you should be wary of her, but she was also newly married now, and you supposed her only desire was to rekindle your long-neglected relationship.

Marriage, children, a home—it had a way of changing people. You were unsure if you could genuinely relate to her feelings, but you would not stop her from trying to rebuild something, even if that something had never truly existed in the first place.

For whatever reasons, your cousin had you set up in a hotel instead of her guest house. You didn’t take it personally, after all, it was her home to do with as she pleased. The hotel suite was lavish; far be it from you to complain.

Clean, white walls, with an intricate gold motif wallpaper, Persian carpeting, high thread-count sheets made from the whitest Egyptian cotton. At your bedside were red roses that added a bit of color and warmth to the room, and near the window was a mini-bar stocked with various alcoholic beverages should you choose to indulge.

Courtesy of Gwess, your outfit for the night’s festivities hung on the bathroom door, zipped up in a garment bag to keep it from either soiling or wrinkling. She had gifted it to you along with a mask for the masquerade ball, though, you felt a sudden trepidation bubbling in your stomach at what awaited you; like a premonition of something to come, it weighed on your chest, and you tried desperately to swallow it down.

Hol Horse’s words from the previous night continued to haunt you in broken fragments. He had warned you not to stick around but it wasn’t like you were staying much longer. Just one more night.

Still, you worried. With the sound of your heart thumping in your ears, you drew out the lace and chiffon clothing from the bag that had kept it hidden from you until now.

A feeling you could not explain washed over you at the sight of what Gwess brought for you to wear. It was white with wing-like patterns sewn down into the material just below the blades of your shoulders. You considered the meaning of this as you donned the outfit and fixed the mask over your face. Mockery perhaps? Who could say?

Gwess greeted you in the hotel lobby with open arms and a warm smile.

“Cousin!”

“Gwess.” You murmured with a nod and a small tilt of your lips. “You look well.”

She grinned, eyes crinkling, “Don’t I?” Gwess gave a twirl, showing off one of her newest purchases. A thinly strapped designer gown with silver embroideries and little birds stitched at the hem and sleeve. In her hands was an extravagant mask covered in jewels and... real life bird feathers. You assumed so, given the traces of blood still on them. Ever the beauty, your cousin was. Her husband, being a lawyer working under a prominent firm in town, made sure that his dearest Gwess wanted for nothing; inherently enabling her rather eccentric hobbies, like mutilating tiny animals and using their remains as accessories.

.

.

.

The venue was a large ballroom not too far from the hotel. It was beautifully decorated with crimson and gold ornaments and glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The festivities were already in full swing. Peals of laughters, thundering music, flashing lights. It was increasingly overwhelming. The event was more of a bacchanal for the rich and wealthy, a hedonistic gathering for the town’s upper echelon. It was almost ceremonial.

To make matters worse, you lost sight of Gwess, or rather, she had ditched you for a group of familiar faces. So, you wandered about on your own. There were a startling amount of guests, it felt almost like eyes were on you at every moment. Bodies pushed on all sides of you as you struggled to make your way through to a less crowded area. The sick feeling in the pit of your stomach bred more fear and anxiety, until you felt the urge to vomit right then and there.

Escaping into the open balcony was your only form of solace, and perhaps you’d remain there for the rest of the evening. Though, how could you have known that in doing so, you would inevitably find yourself within the crosshairs of an apex predator.

By his third victim, Dio was beginning to think that none of his ‘esteemed’ guests had brought a worthy sacrifice. A sneer curled at his lips as he watched them from his seat above. They were like monkeys, dancing for his entertainment, but unfortunately, he was far from entertained. He lounged back in his seat with a deep sigh.

Dio Brando did not believe in chance or coincidence. He did not believe in a being beyond the proverbial curtain, pulling on strings and orchestrating the whims of humanity. But lately, he’d been feeling a bit of a premonition. Nothing alarming, just an inkling of something he couldn’t quite place. And even after speaking to Enrico at length—

Dio paused in his musing, having caught sight of something in his peripheral.

With purposed steps, he followed the instincts deep within him, a visceral tugging in his gut, until he was greeted with the sight of your back. Poised like a sharpened blade, clothed in white; you stood underneath the lantern’s glow, like an angel hand-delivered to his doorstep. Utterly enticing.

You turned, gazing over at him with a peculiar look in your eyes, like that of a cautious doe in the presence of a hunter. The mask you wore shielded the majority of your face, but you were not someone he recognized. The clothing you were wearing made him all the more interested in finding what lay beneath.

Even from this distance, he could see the light sheen of sweat on the back on your neck. The subtle quake in your shoulders was not hidden from him either, even the bob of your throat as you swallowed.

“Do you mind if I join you?” he finally asked.

You were not expecting the man to speak since he looked so dead set on staring at you. “I don’t mind at all.”

You shifted over a little, an unnecessary action, seeing as there was plenty of room for the both of you. The fresh air did well in calming you down. But the sudden appearance of this man and his wolfish gaze was putting you back on edge. In any other instance, his very aura would have sent you running for the hills, but for some reason, you couldn't even bring yourself to move.

“You aren't enjoying yourself,” he noted with a teasing smile. “Does that make me a terrible host?”

You fumbled for a minute, stuttering over your words while trying to find an appropriate answer that wouldn’t offend him too much.

“C-Certainly not. It’s, um, no fault of your own. These kinds of things never interested me in the first place.”

You tried to avoid looking him in the eye when you responded but that proved to be impossible. His eyes were such a beautiful shade of scarlet. You half-wondered if they even came in that color naturally. He licked his lips, and for a second you caught sight of a sharpened canine.

“One could say that I am looking for something. Why else would I throw such an affair?”

Curious, you angled yourself a bit closer to him.

“Do you believe in gravity, dear?” he brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “That might be the reason why I’ve found you. You feel it too, that innate pull that can’t be explained.” he drew you closer until you were chest to chest. “It’s why you can’t walk away even though you’re frightened. I think we were fated to meet each other here.”

A wind blew as he said those words, tussling his gold spun hair, as if nature itself were confirming his words.

“Don’t you believe in destiny? That our lives are fate’s ultimate composition; a song that plays from the moment we take our first breath until we breathe our last.”

He was standing so close, close enough that you could smell the hint of cinnamon in his cologne and... blood...on his breath. It was making you dizzy, but you were also surprised to find that you wanted him to kiss you. And once that thought was acknowledged, it blossomed into a heady desire that was slowly taking over your entire body. You wanted him, the monster behind the mask.

“What say you, dear? Are you still frightened by me?” he laughed. “Don’t be. You and I are the same.”

“I’m...not afraid.” you said and placed a hand on his chest. It pleased him to hear you say it, even if your body betrayed your words. He leaned forward with one arm wrapped around your waist and gave a long, languid lick to a stripe of your skin, your perspiration was no deterrent at all, in fact he rather enjoyed it. Being this close to you gave him a vision of depthless oceans behind his eyelids with the taste of saltwater on his tongue and algae under his feet.

It was cathartic.

Indeed there were cleaner ways to do this, but he liked the pulse of your jugular beneath his tongue. He let his fangs sink into the flesh of your neck, puncturing your skin all the way through. Your fingers gripped his clothes, but not out of pain. The immense pleasure washing over you felt unlike anything you could ever imagine. Puffs of your warm breath coasted against the shell of his ear. You were far past the point of return.

.

.

.

In the final act, you laid naked in your hotel bed underneath blood speckled sheets. Your neck was throbbing, but it was nothing compared to the pleasant soreness between your thighs.

Dio, the name of your new god, hovered over you bare as the day he was born with an arrogant smile on his lips. Your wrists were bound with the strips of cloth torn from your body. You couldn’t reach him but your gaze still roamed the hills and valleys of his muscled chest in an act of worship and devotion.

An angel, they had called you. But what was angel without a fall from grace? It seemed in order to know virtue, one must first acquaint themselves with vice.

[wr1t3-my-wr0ngs]

Good Soldiers - chapter 4/4

Remembering Yesterday’s Tomorrow (In the Here and Now): Part 4 COMPLETED

Rex isn't happy with resorting to Plan B, however, he's not surprised that Plan A didn't work out. Disappointed, but he knew that it was a long shot getting a Jedi to intervene.

At least Plan B has the benefit of working before, but it will still be a bloodbath. Not even the best of troops can hope to match an armed and trained force user, and it's not vanity when he says that his men are the best.

He felt like a cheat when he had described the plan earlier.

"We lead him to the nearest Vixus."

"You want us to go near one of those things on purpose?"

Rex couldn't blame the men for their incredulity, not after one of the creatures had nearly eaten almost every person in the room only hours before. He's not exactly thrilled at going near the sarlac-like thing either. But they aren't fast enough to take Krell in a fair fight, not with his four lightsabers and absolute willingness to maim anyone in his path. (Too many limbs, too much speed, too little empathy.)

Every word from his lips felt like a lie, a stolen idea that he parroted as his own. In a way, they were. It had been Tup who had thought of using the Vixus to capture Krell, a stroke of genius that had ended a horrific fight, and it grates that Rex can’t give the trooper the recognition he deserves.

"What the Captains trying to say, " Fives chimed in after watching Rex flounder for a moment. "Is that we need this to be on our terms. He's not going to come quietly if he is a traitor."

Rex nodded, both in thanks and in confirmation.

"If you think you have a shot, take it. The faster the fight is over, the better it will be for everyone, but we need to aim to arrest him if possible."

"And if we can't?"

"Have your recorders on and let the bastard incriminate himself."

In true GAR fashion, the plan had spread like wildfire, and soon enough, every last soldier knew their task.

Rex hardly needs to issue the orders, but he does anyway, following the formalities because he knows that, despite what General Skywalker may sometimes claim, appearances and regulations do count.

The ride up the tower is quiet, and from the corner of his eye, Rex can see a few of the younger troops nervously adjust the grip on their blasters. He has to fight the urge to fidget or even reach up and place a hand over his ring, doing his best to project confidence for both the men and himself.

Krell is waiting for them, facing the window, one set of hands clasped behind his back.

"CT-7567, explain yourself."

Rex readies his blasters, switching off the safeties and aims at the Besalisk.

"Pong Krell, you are under arrest for treason against the Grand Army of the Republic and the Galactic State which it serves. Do you comply peacefully?"

Krell turns, malice written in his face and eyes.

"You know, I'm surprised you were able to figure it out for a clone. Tell me, when did you first suspect?"

Rex ignores the question, refusing to be goaded by the man before him any more than he already has.

"Do you comply?" He puts more force into his words than before, using a tone of voice he would never dare to use on a commanding officer.

Krell looks around, almost lazily, and takes in the various troopers - all with blasters pointed his direction – and smiles in a way that is anything but friendly.

"You think you can stop me, Captain? I have trained for more years then you have been alive, and I will not be stopped me some creature bread in a tube."

Without further preamble, Krell pushes out with the Force, sending every trooper slamming into the walls. Those unfortunate enough to have stayed on their feet during the assault are quickly cut down by the blue-green pair of saber staffs, and Rex watches from his place on the ground as the fallen Jedi jumps out the window.

He scrambles to his feet and rushes out the door, brushing past medics on their way in to try and stabilize those they can. He does not envy them their job, one which he knows will only get harder the longer Krell goes unattended to.

The sound of boots fills the night air as soldiers pour from the base and onto the hard pavement of the airfield. Krell is nowhere in sight, but the evidence of his departure lies scattered on the ground.

Passing the bodies that litter the ground outside the airbase doors, Rex has to swallow past the rising bile as he takes in his brothers: some still breathing, others lifeless. He charges on more determined than before, no time to pause the pursuit and tell the living from the dead before crashing into the underbrush.

The forest is quiet and incredibly dark, the helmets night vision thrown off by the red glow of the bioluminescent trees.

"Does anyone have a visual?"

"Negative Captain, he's —"

The sound of a lightsaber crackles through the comms, the distinctive hiss as it cauterizes and cuts, distorted and warped by the tiny speakers.

"You should have kept quiet, Captain."

The back of Rex's neck tingles as Krells' voice echoes around the landscape, seeming to come from all directions, shifting on a nonexistent wind.

"You've led them to slaughter in a fool's errand. I have seen the future Captain, your life, and that of every clone is expendable. You and your so-called brothers: specialized rats bread in a lab for just one reason. The Jedi will fall, and in its place, a new order will rise and rule. Yet you rebel in a misguided notion of liberty, and now your men will pay the price."

Displayed on his hud, Rex can see the blinking light of the recorder, and even though he hopes it won't come to it, they need a back up should Dogma fail to reach General Kenobi. He keeps Krell talking, shouting into the eerie red nothingness, turning all directions in the hopes of catching sight of the six-limbed man.

"You're a Separatist?"

Krell's laugh is merciless.

"Not hardly, I serve none but myself. But soon, I shall reap the rewards, and my new master will grant me a seat of power in the Empire that shall arise."

A twig snaps from somewhere above their heads, and it's all the warning Rex and his men get before Krell is in their midst, dual staffs slashing without remorse, skillfully dodging every shot aimed his way. Rex is too busy firing his blasters, shouting for his men not to get too close, to stay out of lightsaber range, to notice at first. Eventually, he hears the shout of his name, and the Captain spots one of the men signaling to something on the ground roughly fifty yards away. Despite his dread and increasing panic, he grins to himself, and relays the information into the comms, alerting all units to draw Krell his way.

Navigating the vine limbs of the Vixus proves challenging, especially with the Besalisk hot on his tail. He should have known that things were going too smoothly, should have expected that something would go wrong (and it makes him sick to his stomach to think, however briefly, that the death of so many of his brothers is according to plan). When it happens, it stirs up disappointed resignation and panic in equal measure. Time seems to slow as his foot catches on something, and he watches the rapidly approaching ground in horror, twisting at the last second to avoid landing face first atop his blasters.

His blunder is all it takes for Krell to be on him, lightsabers baring down with unnatural swiftness. With the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Rex freezes, and he can feel the heat of the green blade through his neck gasket as it flies toward its target. He should move, or fire a shot -anything- instead, his thoughts drift to Ahsoka.

Her skin set aglow by the light of a dying fire beneath a star-studded sky; dirt-covered and sweaty, kneeling next to him as they sew seeds on Lothal; graceful in battle, twisting through the air, elegant and lethal and incredibly kind.

All at once, the heat from the blade disappears and time reasserts itself, leaving the Captain momentarily disoriented until he can process the slashing of sabers far overhead as Krell battles against the vine wrapped around his waist. There is no time to berate himself for either his blunder or for freezing up, and he shoots to his feet, blasters drawn and firing.

Around him, his men are doing the same, some aiming at Krell while others aim for the flailing arms of the Vixus as it attempts to grab anything within reach. Undercutting the din of battle, Rex can make out the tell-tail click of blasters being switched from stun to kill, can feel the increase of energy electrify the air like an oncoming storm. A shot fires and between one heartbeat and the next, Krell is falling, having managed to sever a limb and free himself.

He hits the ground hard, and the shooting ceases, soldiers approaching with a careful tread, ready for the Besalisk to spring up. Instead, Krell lets out a ragged cough into the dirt, and Rex cautiously approaches, DeeCees at the ready, and carefully rolls the fallen Jedi onto his back. Blood gurgles from Krell's chest where a blaster bolt made its home in a lung, whether intentionally placed or a mistake is unclear and, frankly, Rex doesn’t care.

Krell has moments left, and the Captain is seized with the need to make eye contact with the force user one last time. Slowly, he kneels and pulls off his bucket, taking a moment to make sure he has the Besalisks attention.

"I've lived your future, " he whispers, quiet enough that the various recorders can't pick it up. "It doesn't last."

It is satisfying to watch Krell's face fall as he searches the force, feels the veracity of Rex's statement— Realizes that for all his gifts and abilities, a clone knows more than him. Satisfying to know that its the last thought he will ever have.

Words form on the force users' lips, but all that comes out is a cough followed by a rattling breath and then - nothing.

Everyone is quiet for a moment, as the enormity of what just happened registers with the gathered troops. Some take off their helmets, most simply stare in shock. It doesn’t last long; the area is still a live war zone, and all too soon, the sound of steadily approaching enemy bombardment draws everyone from their stupor.

Rex pulls on his helmet and orders everyone back to base. It takes some time, now that they aren’t running after the Besalisk - longer than it usually would have, considering they are hauling Krell’s corpse and the numerous wounded with them. Some of the men had wanted to leave him where he lay, claim that it had been lost in the darkness and confusion of the planet. But the Captain hadn’t wanted to risk being ordered to send anyone out on a retrieval mission. Didn’t want to risk losing more men over the fallen Jedi.

No one speaks as they trudge through the dark landscape, and in the pressing silence, one thought relentlessly hammers away inside the Captains mind:

What now?

His instincts still tell him that this isn't a dream, and Rex is still inclined to trust them. But with his mind no longer occupied with the survival of his men and himself, the doubts that had reared their head when he had woken have returned. Is this death? If so, what does it mean for him now that Umbara is over? Or if it's a dream? Or, even more daunting, what if it's not? What if, by some insane occurrence, its exactly what he thinks it is?

He’s no closer to an answer by the time they reach the base, and in his meditative state, he almost misses the arrival of General Kenobi’s transport.

“Captain!”

Rex has to work to keep his face impassive, even as he salutes (its a different kind of pain seeing Kenobi again then it was from seeing his brothers. Less piercing, more bittersweet, aching like a day-old bruise that you can’t help touching, just to make sure it's still there).

“General,”

“I would ask what’s so urgent that you would send a trooper to collect me in the middle of a delicate campaign, but your man was very thorough in his explanation.”

Behind the Jedi, Rex can make out Dogma - a little cut up and bloodied but in one piece - side-eyeing the trooper next to him. Rex’s heart stops for a moment as he takes in the distinctive orange paint of his batchmate. He should have known that where General Kenobi goes, Cody would follow, but somehow it hadn’t clicked. (Cody shifts and Dogma nervously straightens. There’s a story there, and Rex resolves to get it later —if there is a later).

If Obi-Wan notices the Captain's momentary discomfort, he doesn't say anything.

“We had hoped that you might have been able to assist us in dealing with Krell.”

“I see.” The Jedi pauses for a moment, taking the time to really look at Rex. His next words are terribly kind, and the clone's heart swells with affection for the man.

“How are your men, Captain?”

He thinks of Dogma, the betrayal and the pain that he knows the rookie must still be dealing with, thinks of his own distress at watching Krell cut down brother after brother and chooses his words carefully, voice low.

“We lost a fair number in the fight, and I think the men are more shaken they would like to admit.”

Obi-wan looks sad at the confession but nods understandingly.

“And Krell?”

“Dead, Sir.”

Someone comes up beside him; he's not sure who, but judging by the sound of the footfalls, he thinks its either Jesse or Fives. Looking confirms that its the former.

“Report?”

“All men accounted for, Sir. Wounded are being taken care of now.”

Rex nods.

“Get some rest; you've all earned it.”

Kenobi waits for Jesse to leave before he picks up the conversation.

“Who fired the shot?”

Truthfully, he doesn’t know. In the chaos and confusion, the blaster fire had blurred together. But it was his mission, his orders that the men followed, his responsibility. His fault.

“I did, sir.”

Obi-Wan sighs, looking pained, and Rex understands. A General is dead, an act that cannot go unseen to, regardless of if the general was corrupt or not —there must be a hearing.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm afraid I have to place you under arrest."

Rex nods solemnly.

Appearances and Regulations, his mind supplies, and as much as he doesn't like it, he would rather it be him who takes the brunt of a Court Marshal than any of his brothers. Something he had taken into account when he had first come up with his plan.

Kenobi nods to one of his men, who steps forward with a pair of cuffs.

"Those won't be necessary, will they Captain?"

Mild amusement flickers through Rex at Obi-Wans tone, and he flashes a brief smirk at the General, who, despite the regret etched on his face, has an answering twinkle of humor in his eyes.

"No, Sir."

The trooper shrugs and puts away the restraining devices then reaches out and relieves the Captain of his DeeCees's, before leading him by the elbow toward the tower and the brig.

Behind him, the General calls out.

“We’ll get you out of this, Rex.”

He doesn't need to ask who “we” is.

----

Despite the exhaustion that has settled in his bones, Rex spends his first hour in the brig with his head in his hands, sedately running them over his buzzed hair. Various people stop by, sometimes offering updates, sometimes to provide words of support. They don’t stay for long, recognizing the fatigue, and leave the clone to himself. As a result, he doesn’t look up right away when he hears a set of boots approaching. What does make him look is the sound of his cell door opening, and he is just in time to see Fives, dressed in his blacks and some of his armor, walk-in before shutting the door.

"Hey, " the goateed man greets, walking over to the bunk and sliding down the cell wall, sitting on the ground.

"Hey." Rex returns.

They sit quietly for a few moments, both worn and weary from the horrors of the past 24 hours, the sound of their breathing echoing slightly off the walls.

"I didn't think anyone was allowed inside the cell."

Fives huffs in what could be amusement.

"I don't think anyone is taking your confinement too seriously after what Krell put us through. Pretty sure they would let you out for a walk as long as you have supervision."

They both laugh without much heart before lapsing back into a silence that seems to be building a soft sort of anticipation — a tension, not unpleasant or overwhelming, but constant and steady. The seconds stretch into minutes, all the while the anticipation builds, culminating in a sigh from Fives.

"I believe you."

Rex, arms resting on his legs, looks at his little brother.

"I can't explain it, but —” the ARC trooper shakes his head as if doing so will set his thoughts straight — “you know things. Things you shouldn't have been able to know. And I can't put my finger on it, but you're different, smile more but at the same time are so...sad."

He looks at Rex.

"And I don't know what it is or what it could be, but we've seen some crazy shit together. Dying and coming back to the past is as good an explanation as any. So, I believe you."

Rex doesn't know what to say, doesn't think they are words in basic or mando'a that can encapsulate the affection and love he feels for his brother. He settles for a smile, and it's probably wan and maybe a little teary, but he hopes it can say what he can't.

"Thank you." He tries, and the ARC Trooper nods, smiling back.

Fives eyes catch on something on Rex's person, and the blonde watches as his brother's face goes from understanding to curious.

"What have you got there?"

Rex looks down and sees his wedding band, still attached to the chain, in his hand. It's an old habit, fiddling with it when thinking or just bored, and he hadn't realized he'd started playing with it until his brother had pointed it out.

"Is that a ring?" Fives sounds positively gleeful, and he pulls himself up onto the cot, seating himself practically in Rex's lap to get a better look.

"It is!"

"Get off–!"

It takes some effort, removing Fives from his lap, and it almost dumps both of them on the floor in the process. In the end, they both stay on the bed, Fives leaning far too close into Rex's personal space.

"I didn't think you were the jewelry type."

"For the right person, I am."

He's said too much if the unholy grin spreading across his brother's face is any indicator. He would be more upset at his slipup, if it weren't for the matching grin, he can feel on his own face and the lightness in his heart he hadn't expected to feel for weeks.

"What kind of person could be crazy enough to catch your eye?"

"Watch your tongue, that's my wife you're talking about."

Fives' face is priceless as he processes Rex's words and their implications, and Rex can't help himself. The laughter that bubbles out of him feels both freeing and wrong; Wrong after all that happened, when so many of his brothers lay dead, after so much loss; Freeing, to know that he still can, that despite everything he did, Krell couldn't take this from him.

And he knows his vod'ika has a million questions, can see them flitting about behind golden eyes. He prepares himself for the onslaught when Fives opens his mouth, only for the question to be transformed into a jaw cracking yawn.

Rex shakes his head, amused and fond.

"Get some sleep, Fives."

His brother looks like he's about to protest when a second yawn overcomes him and grudgingly concedes the point.

Fives stands, one finger pointed at Rex.

"I want answers.”

"Later, " Rex promises, all but shoving his brother out of the cell. "Sleep well, Vod."

The door closes with an electric hum, and Rex makes his way back to the bunk.

Exhaustion claims him the second his head touches the pillow, and all too soon, he finds himself falling asleep.

He keeps falling...

Falling...

Falling...

Falling through blood and death, the noise of battle raging around him. It is a kaleidoscope of sound and color, screams, and blasters blurring together until it's impossible to tell the sound of his voice apart from the bark of his DeeCees. Through it all, he spirals from battle to battle: the heat and sand of Geonosis, his armor still unpainted and new; to the frozen moon of Pantora, snow gear frosted over and growing heavier with each passing minute; the choking taste of the Blue Shadow Virus, each breath harder to take than the last, until all at once, his feet hit the deck, sending shock racing up his calves and spine.

The ambient noise of the star destroyer is defining after the chaos of the battles, the hum of hyperspace hardy even background to the ringing in his ears.

He can hear himself speaking, but it's without his permission, his words and actions separate from his thoughts.

“Yes, Lord Sidious.”

No, his mind screams, and within the confines of his own body, he rails against the inhibitor chip. No, he screams as the doors open, and he pulls out his blasters, leveling them at the young and confused face of Ahsoka Tano. He fights harder, thrashing against the walls of his skin, will be damned if he lets the order take him without a fight. Find him. Find him. Fives. Find him! FIVES!

Its a battle unlike any other, waged against himself, the most important in his life. But he cannot hold out, cannot win, and at the end of things, he fails. Mind exhausted and worn, he loses what little control he had scraped together, pulls the trigger. The programming takes over, and Rex can do nothing but watch as he and his men fire volley after volley at the former Jedi. Locked in the deepest corner of his own mind, he can only pray that they don’t find her as they comb the ship. Silently weeps when she steps out, distracted from the droids behind him long enough for the electricity to coarse through his body - vision going white.

The light spreads, at first cold and sharp, but soon enough gives way to the soft yellow glow of the morning sun filtered through closed eyes.

He's roused by the sensation of fingers lazily dancing over an exposed hip.

"Morning."

Her voice is light and playful, and he takes a moment to grin into the pillow before opening his eyes and looking behind him.

In the light of dawn, with the sheets pooled around her waist and sleep shirt slipping down one shoulder, she looks like an angel: her blue eyes sparkle, and the sound of birds caries through the open window.

"Morning."

He rolls over to face her, and she combs her fingers through his beard, eliciting a smile at the sensation.

“We slept in, didn’t we?” his voice rumbles in his chest. Beside him, Ahsoka hums, lips pulled up in a grin. There is a glint of mischief in her eyes that holds the promise of something more, coy and inviting, and no small amount exciting.

"Just a little."

“Then we better get up,”

He can’t hide the smile in his voice, but two can play at this game. Rex sits up and makes a show of stretching - careful not to look at her or else lose his resolve- and he can feel her eyes on him, searing into his skin. In his mind's eye, he pictures her smile growing, teeth bared, and cheeks dimpled. A quick peak confirms his suspicion.

“Long day ahead of us, can’t start if we’re still in bed.”

She slides up next to him, turning his face toward hers with a delicate finger, one of her white eyebrow marks raised in challenge.

"Is that so?"

Her grin is infectious as she settles herself across his hips in a fluid motion, her head tails swaying with the movement. He brings both hands up to her waist both to steady her and to hold her close, thumbs running gentle circles over ochre skin.

"Prove it, Captain."

She leans in and kisses him, slow and deep, and he lets his hands wander underneath her shirt. Over soft skin and up, following the dips and curves of her body, feeling the strength hidden there. Her hands wander in turn, roaming over his chest and arms, slipping under the waistband of his sleep pants. He can feel her tremble oh so slightly under his touch, muscles coiled with anticipation. It spurs his hands higher, fingertips ghosting over sensitive flesh, cupping a -

A loud bang jolts him into consciousness, and Rex instinctively reaches for the warm body that should be there with him. Instead, his hands find nothing but air, and it takes him a moment to process the too harsh lighting and hard metal bunk, the hum of the energy shield that separates his cell from the rest of the room.

For the second time in as many days, Rex's mind must grapple with waking up after expecting to never do so again. But for the first time, he has more than an instinct or a gut feeling to go off of. He's in the same room, the same place as he remembers last being, has two sets of memories for how yesterday went down, and it pushes the few doubts he had left about his reality from his mind.

The future as he remembers it plays out in his mind's eye, and the question from earlier pushes to the forefront:

What now?

[littlemissfandomworld]

The Orroral Valley bushfire in the Namadgi National Park has burned more than one-seventh of the ACT but has so far been kept away from Canberra suburbs.

Key points:

The Orroral Valley fire is downgraded to "watch and act" after earlier burning at an emergency levelAcross the border in NSW, the Clear Range fire is threatening property in the towns of Michelago, Colinton and BredboAuthorities urge people in Tharwa, Banks, Gordon and Conder to leave if they feel unsafe, and ask all Canberrans to use less electricity today

The out-of-control fire, which a military helicopter accidentally ignited this week, has been downgraded to watch and act after burning at emergency level earlier this afternoon.

Emergency services warned people near Boboyan Road, Naas Road, Top Naas Road and Apollo Road to remain vigilant, as conditions could again worsen.

There is currently no threat to the southern suburbs of the ACT, but authorities have urged people in the township of Tharwa and the southernmost suburbs of Banks, Gordon and Conder to monitor conditions.

Meanwhile, New South Wales firefighters are battling the fast-moving, emergency-level Clear Range fire south of the border, which flared up when embers from the ACT blaze spread.

The Monaro Highway connecting Canberra and Cooma is now closed.(ABC News: Andrew Kennedy)

The Clear Range fire is threatening properties in Michelago, Colinton and Bredbo.

Residents have been told it is too late to leave and to seek shelter.

People in nearby Tinderry, Anembo, Jerangle and Chakola should be aware of embers being blown ahead of the main fire front.

The blaze has also closed the Monaro Highway — the main connection between Canberra and rural communities to the south.

Sixteen aircraft are attacking both fires, along with ground crews from NSW, Queensland and Tasmania.

Earlier this week ACT Chief Minister Andrew Barr said the fires posed the greatest risk to Canberra since the deadly 2003 fire storm.

Today was expected to be the "worst day".

"We acknowledge this is going to be a stressful day for residents, particularly in southern Tuggeranong," Mr Barr said this morning.

He urged residents to stay informed and be ready to evacuate if they needed to.

Mr Barr also repeated earlier warnings to stay away from Namadgi, which has attracted "disaster tourists" throughout the week.

"I can't stress this enough: you are not needed, you are getting in the way, stay out of the area," Mr Barr said.

"It is incredibly disappointing that a number of people had to be told to leave the area last night by ACT police."

Embers may strike suburbs

Fire-spread predictions suggest the blaze could grow up to five times in size today, mostly to the east and south-east.

However, the bushfire behaved erratically this morning, spreading in multiple directions.

In a worst-case scenario, it could sweep north-east through the ACT village of Tharwa and rain embers on Canberra's southern-most suburbs.

Firefighters in the mountain village of Bredbo, NSW, prepare for the approaching blaze.(ABC News: Andrew Kennedy)

This morning, ACT Emergency Service Agency (ESA) incident controller Paul Flynn said firefighters' fears were already being realised.

"We do have spot fires detected several kilometres in front of the main fire and so that's a pretty bad start to the day."

ESA Commissioner Georgeina Whelan said the bushfire posed no immediate threat to Canberra suburbs, but asked residents in Tharwa, Conder, Banks and Gordon to "leave the area this morning if you feel unsafe".

An evacuation centre has been opened at nearby Erindale College.

The ACT Government said it had taken every step it could to avoid a repeat of the bushfires that devastated the city 17 years ago.

Residents in rural areas and some suburbs have been asked to activate their bushfire plans.(ABC News: Andrew Kennedy)

Emergency and defence staff reinforced fire containment lines throughout the week.

Military personnel and ESA staff also doorknocked residents in the areas at risk, extra crews have flown in from interstate, and firefighters even managed to do some backburning this week.

Mr Barr declared a state of emergency yesterday, giving the Government powers to direct residents and their livestock, seize control of property and access information.

Horror of 2003 fires in residents' minds

When fires flared in the Namadgi National Park 17 years ago, few expected it to be as destructive as it was.

The firestorm took hold within 24 hours, and containing it became impossible.

It destroyed about 500 homes across Canberra's south-western suburbs and in rural communities. Four people died.

The 2003 firestorm swept into suburban Canberra, destroying about 500 properties.(Getty Images: Daniel Berehulak)

This time, residents have been on alert for weeks, preparing their homes for what they fear will be a repeat of the 2003 event.

Mr Barr was keenly aware of this fear when he declared a state of emergency.

"I understand the anxiety that this announcement will cause, especially for those who lived through the 2003 bushfires," he said.

As in 2003, the surrounding land is extremely dry from years of drought, and the weather is forecast to be hot and windy.

Some Canberrans said they were exhausted not only from the weeks of preparation but also from the burden of those 17-year-old memories.

"It's just nerve-racking, just the waiting to see if it will happen or it won't happen," one Banks resident said.

Many have their cars ready and bags packed to evacuate if necessary.

Kim Moeller's home in Rosedale on the NSW South Coast was destroyed by bushfires earlier this summer.(Supplied)

In the rural communities to Canberra's south, many people have left already, though some have chosen to stay and defend their properties.

Among them is Kim Moeller, a resident of Little Burra, who has already lost one home this season at Rosedale on the NSW South Coast.

"My plan is to stay and fight the fires. As long as it's not catastrophic, we think we're well prepared to be able to take on any fires," he said.

"I'm quite keen to defend and save this home."

Mr Moeller says he will stay as he isn't willing to lose a second house in one fire season.(Supplied)

8:00, 1 Feb 2020

[planetsam]

If you still want to write stranger things may I request fluffy mileven? Literally anthing post season 2 like I dont mind if its snowball, a week later, a month, a year, whatever inspiration hits. I'm desperate for post season 2 mileven fluff so anything you got would be awesome :)

Mike has a collection of flashlights.

They are overwhelmingly gifts from Jim Hopper.

“In case the power goes out.”

“Can’t have you tripping.”

“You can’t fight if you can’t see.”

Mike’s only confused with the first one. It’s an old camping lantern. He’s baffled when the Chief shoves it into his chest. He’s still angry at him, especially since nothing’s really changed except everything has. It’s comforting to know El’s around, but it’s also cruel to know he can’t see her. She can’t go outside and the occasional glimpse or stroll through the woods is one thing. Seeing her regularly looks suspicious. He can’t make it harder on her, not after all the stuff she’s done to protect him. So it just hurts. Metaphysically until Hopper smacks the lantern into his chest, nearly winding him.

“Here,” he says, “in case there’s another power outage,” Mike’s fingers tighten on the thing as he looks up at him, too bewildered to glare outright, “don’t put it too close to your bed,” Hopper orders and then walks away.

He puts it right next to his bed.

He leaves it on, waiting for as long as he can until he dozes. The lamp flickers, waking him instantly. Then it flickers again. He knows it’s El. He bites his lip and wonders if she can see him. If she’s watching now. Trying not to feel silly he waves at the lantern. It flickers again, almost desperately. Then the light blows.

The cycle repeats the next day, this time with a flashlight.

“Ow!” he complains because the force seems a little excessive. Hopper scoffs, “what’s this?” he demands.

“Flashlight, in case there’s a power outage. Don’t put it too close to your bed,” he says, “while we’re on the subject of survival,” he continues and smacks a book into his chest, “here.”

Mike opens his mouth to ask why he’s got a book of morse code but Hoppers already walking away. Mike rolls his eyes and shuffles home, wondering about over reactions. He sits on the bed and pulls the blanket up in complete defiance. He waits. Then he tries waiting with the flashlight on. Then he finishes his homework and the flashlight turns off. Then on again. Without him. He dives forward, grabbing a pen and a notebook and lets it flash, recording what is a long and a short response to spell out the message that’s being given to him.

“I miss you too,” he says, “I know you’re here though.”

He smiles as the flashlight switches on and off quickly as if to confirm.

He gets into less trouble at school.

His teachers are pleased. They say they’re glad his rebellious phase seems to have come and gone quickly. Mike wants to point out that an entire year with your heart being ripped out isn’t quick. And that he’s only behaving so they won’t watch him and when this year is up, he can be with El without anyone watching. When he confides that to Will, Will laughs and the flashlight rapidly reminds him that ‘Hopper is still Sheriff’ which makes him stick his tongue out at both of them.

“Take care of this one,” Hopper says sternly at flashlight number twelve. He’s not the one blowing the bulbs but he nods like he is. Hopper considers him quietly and then nods gruffly, “there’s an extra bulb in the bottom, open it carefully,” he says.

Mike immediately pries the bottom open in the bathroom and pulls out a letter. He knows spending lunch in the bathroom is suspicious as hell but he takes ten minutes and pours over every word. The morse code takes time even though they’re getting faster. Or he’s getting faster, she still has to take care not to blow the flashlight bulb. He gets to read her words uninterrupted and his heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. He misses her, badly. Even with their communication. Which is helping so much but it’s not enough for him. He gets a feeling it’s not enough for her either.

“I need you to look away,” he says that night. The flashlight gives an inquiry, “please? Just trust me,” he says, “also tell Hopper to bring another one tomorrow.”

He writes her back.

It’s stupid and he can hear his sister ‘aww-ing’ in his head. Folds the letter tightly and pushes it into the flashlight. After they say goodnight he breaks it and finds Hopper the next day waiting for him.

“It’s broken,” he snaps, shoving the flashlight at him.

“Okay,” Hopper says through gritted teeth, “try this one.”

They exchange them and the light works.

“Take care of that one,” he says.

Mike bites back the urge to say something stupid and nods instead, heading home. There’s no letter in this one but he doesn’t mind the moment it starts flashing from El. He’s gotten better at morse code, he just needs to check for references now. It’s almost like talking except he can’t hear her voice. He wants to cry sometimes at that but he tries to keep it together. He doesn’t know what it’s costing her to constantly move the flashlight but he hopes she’s ok. He hopes Hopper’s taking care of her even if it means they don’t always get to talk.

“Michael!” his mother calls up the stairs one morning, “phone for you!”

He picks it up, half hoping it’s Eleven even though he knows they’re listening to the phones and it can’t be. Not unless something’s really, really—

“I’ll give you a dollar to shovel my driveway.”

“Excuse me?” he sputters.

“Driveway. There’s gonna be snow on it. When there is, I need you to shovel it. That’s what you kids do right?”

“Yeah, okay,” he gets out finally.

He hasn’t been this excited for snow in years.

He’s almost bouncing when it falls, he gets Nancy to get Jonathan to give him a ride. He falls out of the car and runs up the driveway, frantically knocking on the door with his shovel in his hand. Hopper’s disgruntled face greets him for an instant before his collar is seized by invisible hands and he’s yanked into the house. El throws herself at him and they collide together, her warmth pushing away all the cold from his time outside. Hopper wipes a hand over his face and pulls back on the curtain, somehow surprised it’s snowing out even though Mike’s been watching it fall for hours.

“Your hair got longer,” he says and she nods.

“You got taller,” she says as they inspect each other for changes in the months they’ve been apart, “wanna see my room?”

“Okay that’s not—no,” Hopper intervenes, “no closed doors. And he needs to shovel the snow okay? Or this doesn’t work.”

“It’s okay,” he says as her face falls, “I’m really fast. Nancy taught me so she wouldn’t have to anymore.”

“Will you teach me?” she asks.

“Yeah, I can teach you,” he says, “next year. We can shovel together so it’ll take half the time.”

She grins and he beams even though he’s never wanted to shovel snow that much. Hopper makes them all breakfast and Mike shovels quickly. Hopper comes out when he’s done and looks around, even though the tires on his car can definitely get through this.

“I’m going to the station,” he says, “I’ll give you a ride back when I get home, okay?”

Mike’s heart soars and he nods.

Hopper leaves.

He looks back at the house, realizing that he gets to spend hours with El. He bolts up the driveway, scrambling out of his shoes the second he gets into the door. El’s got a pile of sheets in her hands and a hopeful look on her face.

“I want a blanket fort,” she says, “for when I talk to you.”

“Okay,” he agrees instantly.

She pulls him into her room despite Hopper’s words and Mike pauses, looking around. It’s cobbled together from old stuff, but he can pick out things that are her. There’s a few books, a tube of lipstick, a flashlight. There’s a half open box on a chair too, when he glances inside he sees the edge of a pink dress. El looks back at him and then comes over, resting her chin on his shoulder and looking down at the dress.

“I’m glad you figured out how to talk to me,” he confides and she nods against his arm.

They build the fort by her bed. She beams when it’s done and pulls him in, settling across from him in the small space. They grin at each other. All the things he wants to say he can’t seem to think of, not in the face of the joy in his chest.

“We should think about what we’re gonna tell people for how we know each other,” he says, “next year when you come to school. Maybe we were pen pals or something?”

“Pen pals?” she asks.

“Yeah, pen pals. They’re friends who don’t live near each other but write to each other. So they know each other even if they don’t see each other.”

She nods happily and that passes most of the afternoon. They’re both really aware when Hopper pulls up. El looks down, playing with his knuckles with her fingertips. He chews his lip because he doesn’t want to go either. When he turns to say something to her, she dives forward and presses their lips together. He’s learned that she doesn’t half ass this—not that she half asses anything—and that when they kiss it’s like she puts her entire self into it. He kisses her back, trying to memorize the feel of it. Cupping one hand around her cheek to keep her there a moment longer. When they pull back they rest their foreheads against each others, sharing the same breath.

“You two are so lucky she can’t be grounded,” Hopper says to them, pulling back the sheet carefully, “this counts as a door.”

El rolls her eyes as they get up, walking over to the door. He has to stop putting on his coat and layers several times to hug her but finally he’s ready to go. El looks up at Hopper who sighs at her silent question like he’s learned to read her too and nods. El flies back into her room and then appears again with two boxes in her hands. She sets them down and pulls the lids off them, looking at him anxiously. He stares down at the two boxes. All the contents familiar to him because they were his. All the toys he had to give up for the yard sale.

“I don’t—“ he begins.

“I—we—“ Hopper corrects, “didn’t want you to lose anything else because of what happened,” he says.

“You got in trouble because of me,” El adds.

“Thank you,” he gets out, looking at all of the things he thought were gone. Things that he’d give up in a heartbeat to get her back. “I wanted you back more than any of this stuff,” he blurts out, trying to get her to understand, “promise. I wanted you more—“

She nods and rushes forward and they’re hugging again. He’s held it together for a year but somehow between then and now, between her and Will and everything, he’s cried more in the past six months than he has in a long time. It’s six more months from here and when the snow stops it’s going to be even harder. He wants to scream at the unfairness of it all but right now she’s got her arms around him and that’s all he can really focus on. When they pull back Hopper’s in the kitchen pretending he can’t hear them.

“I’ll still signal,” she promises and he nods, “does it help?”

“It helps a lot,” he says, “but I still miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she says, pressing her cheek to his sweater again, “I miss you most.”

His heart soars at that and he nods, he misses her most too.

He blocks out the actual goodbye and getting into the car. He can’t even look at Hopper even though he knows he should say thank you. Say something. At the very least he should tell him he’s sorry for punching his chest. But the lump in his throat is bigger than his words.

“I had a daughter, a long time ago,” Hopper says gruffly, “she was sick, when I’d have to leave her in the hospital—the goodbyes were never easy,” he clears his throat, “I know this is hard kid. But this is the easy part.” Mike sucks in a breath, “she’s going to need you a lot,” he continues, “she wants to go to school next year. Be with you guys more. She’s spent her life in a lab, you know that’s going to be hard.”

“She’ll be okay,” he says and Hopper nods, “I’ll be there, I’m not—“

“You’re a kid,” Hopper says, “a kid whose had a lot of bad shit happen to him. But you’re still a kid. You guys should be doing kid things like—“ he fumbles, “whatever you kids like to do. I don’t know.”

“We like to hang out with our friend,” Mike says, “that’s what we like to do.”

He enlists Will for El’s christmas present.

Will draws them all together, which was the instruction. But he draws them the night she came back, the night he got free. They’re dirty and bloody and crowded on the couch, talking over one another and motioning wildly. It takes Mike a good minute to get his thank you out. Will just smiles, happy in his art. He puts it in a frame, making sure El knows. But there’s another drawing that he puts over it, one he makes sure El can’t see. Hopper’s waiting for him outside of school.

“Here,” Mike says.

“You getting me christmas presents now? That’s—“

He stops and Mike pats himself on the back. Will’s nearby and Hopper looks over at him, then back to the picture then at Mike, like he isn’t sure what to do. Probably yell at them. But he grabs them both and hugs them so tightly neither is sure they’re going to breathe properly again.

“Back to class before I arrest you or call your mothers,” he says gruffly, shoving them back towards school even though it’s over.

Will drew him and Eleven walking towards the cabin, but if you look close enough, there’s another figure tugging them forward. With pigtails and a pink dress. When El thanks them for the picture, she tells them he got her a different frame and kept Will’s drawing in that one and both are hung up right at the entrance.

It doesn’t snow much that winter.

Spring is a blur, summer is ok. Every day though means that they’re one day closer. They end their communications with the number, he starts having trouble sleeping because of excitement when they hit the double digits. He’s never looked forward to school like this before. Even Hopper sees him and glares, like he’s going to give away a secret. El’s messages become farther between because she’s worried about them being found out so close.

“Learn anything interesting?” Hopper asks one day when they’re exchanging flashlights.

“Algebra,” Mike says.

“Huh,” Hopper shrugs, “I remember that stuff, I was pretty good. If you ever get stuck.”

They all did this last year when Will was out of it, copying notes and making extra sets. As a result they did a lot better academically. And Will’s caught up mostly. They kick the system into place. Lucas has the best handwriting so he transcribes everything, handing the notes to Hopper under the guise of if he’s going to tutor he might as well do it right.

He gets to school an hour early on her first day, but lingers outside until just before the bell rings, looking for her anxiously.

“Mister Wheeler, you’re going to be late.”

“I know, I know,” he waves the teacher off as the sirens hit his ears. The car comes skidding to a stop and he bolts for it, getting there just as the door smacks open and El stumbles out. They stare at each other for a moment, gasping around six months of separation again. Hopper clears his throat loudly and Mike remembers his earlier warning, “come on, we’re going to be late,” he says, grabbing her hand.

“Don’t get into too much trouble!” Hopper yells after them.

“Bye!” El cries over her shoulder as they run for it, so fast the teacher inside the door is nearly bowled over.

“Mister Wheeler! Where are you going?!”

They skid to a stop, the teacher looks between them.

“And you are?” he asks, looking at her.

“I’m Jane Hopper,” she says, “I’m his pen pal,” the bell rings and her fingers tighten around his.

“And look at the time, we’re going to be late,” he says.

The teacher sighs and nods, motioning them along, making a note to keep an eye out for another trouble maker in Mike Wheeler’s circle of trouble making friends.