#her switch from hurt and shock to long drawn out murder

[bumblebaubles]

ok fine i'll say it i dont think it makes sense osha didnt show remorse after killing sol

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (6)

Class revenge. And mention of suicide.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 5)

------

Normal class day and most of the class was still together. This is set after the class’s trip to Gotham.

Alix and Chloe had transferred to another class or a different school. There were a few new students but they transferred out within a week, when they all had tried to point out Lila’s lies and the class picked on them on Lila’s behalf.

Class is still taught by Mme. Bustier.

She rolled-calls and somehow Marinette’s name was on there and she just absentmindedly read it.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng”

“Present.” A cheery voice said.

Goes to the next name before everyone froze and looked at the source of the voice which was where they exiled Marinette to before her ‘suicide’.

There she was. An older-looking Marinette who would look the same age as them as if she was still alive, her longer hair was in a high ponytail and her clothes were switched out from her usual pink to red and black and had a more mature look that was stylish instead of cute.

She wore her signature bright grin but the sight of it brought chills down everyone’s spines.

Lila thought that it was her curse kicking in and since she hadn't seen Marinette until then, fainted on the spot, thinking she was finally going to be killed.

“M-ma-marinette. What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” Older Marinette said with a confused face. “Oh. You mean why am I not late? First time for everything, I guess. I am not late today so Yay for me.” She giggles but everyone else thinks that it sounds terrifying.

“But this is impossible. You simply can’t be here.” Max said, “Odds of you still alive are zero.”

“Can’t I? I mean I woke up early and got here on time. What is impossible about me being early? I would normally be a zombie during the morning, Max but nice one.”

Some students checked their phones for akumas. Hawkmoth had mysteriously disappeared around Marinette’s death making a few rumours about Marinette being Hawkmoth floating around. (Lila was the first to suggest that as a theory.)

Mme Bustier cleared her throat, terrified out of her mind and scared that if she provoked the ‘ghost’ of her former star student, there would be consequences like the horror movies. But she was not going to let it hurt any of her students.

“Marinette, there must have been a misunderstanding. You should be home.”

“Why?’

“Because um...you are... you are sick and you don’t want to infect your fellow classmates, right?”

“Hm..I feel fine but now that you mention it, I feel a little dizzy. I think I am going to take the day off.”

The rest of the class murmured in agreement, scared not to offend the ‘ghost’. A few of the girls like Mylene had tears running down their cheeks. Horror movies logic dictates that you should not remind the ghost that they are dead or make them angry.

Juleka was half-scared out of her mind for Rose who was also crying and herself and also half-excited, even though Marinette might be a vengeful ghost, there is still a ghost in their classroom.

Mme Bustier started muttering prayers under her breath.

Marinette packed up her things and was out of her seat when Adrien came into the class.

He was held up because he started sneezing non-stop this morning. Turns out Natalie had some black feathers on her.

He sees Marinette in the back row.

“Ma-Marinette! How are you here?!” to which everyone in the class sans Lila who was still passed out, shushed at him.

Ignoring them, he blurted out, “You are dead.”

The word echoed through the classroom. It was silent for a moment and you could hear a pin drop.

“Dead? What do you mean dead?” Marinette took a step down the stairs, the perfect picture of confusion but her eyes seemed a little crazed and Adrien took a step back, the word ‘Traitor’ carved into his back started burning.

Everyone in their seats shifted slightly away from her. Some considered making a run for the door but they didn’t want to draw attention and face the ghost’s wrath. They all mimed at Adrien to stop.

He ignored them again. “Don’t pretend you are innocent. You did this to me. YOU MADE ME LOSE EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD. I DON’T REGRET KILLING YOU FOR THE HORRIBLE PERSON YOU ARE, LADYBUG. YOU DESERVED TO DIE FOR WHAT YOU DID.”

Realizing what he said, he covered his mouth, hoping it would somehow fix the damage he had done.

Marinette smirked. The picture of innocence gone.

It took a moment for what Adrien’s outburst meant to register in their heads.

Adrien, in an attempt to get back into their good graces, had once claimed to be Chat Noir, the ‘hero’ of Paris. They had brushed him off. If what he had said was correct then that meant that they drove Marinette who was Ladybug to kill herself. Horrible realization sets in as it meant that Hawkmoth won.

Lila chose that moment to came back to the land of the living to scream bloody murder once she saw Marinette again.

The scream brought everyone out of their trance from their shock and started screaming or yelling.

The windows slammed open and the wind whipped. The doors of the classroom closed shut with a loud bang. The clouds were dark outside and there were some flashes of lighting and thunder. (Thank you Longg.)

Marinette’s hair was undone and whipped around her. Her eyes were glowing blue. As she started laughing at the chaos she had unleashed, the class and Mme Bustier ducked for cover and hid under their desks. Except for Adrien and Lila.

Lila, fueled by anger, pounced at the ravenette but was thrown against the classroom wall before she even had a chance to lay a hand. Fell down and appeared to be knocked out. Alya made a move to check up on her.

Adrien was thrown back against the floor when the strong winds started. The scars on his back were burning with a lot of intensity now and it was a miracle that he still hasn’t passed out from the pain.

Unknown to him, the words were glowing red and seen through his shirt. Mme Bustier, Nino, Sabrina and Nathaniel were the few that saw the bright red letters spelling out ‘TRAITOR’ on Adrien’s back as he got back up.

“Marinette, this isn’t you. Milady, please.”

“Shut up.” She flicked her wrist, sending Adrien against the teacher’s desk. He hit it hard and was knocked out like Lila.

Alya after making sure that Lila was fine. “Marinette, stop this. I know that you are probably mad at Adrien for killing you but we never did anything to you.”

“Never did anything?! Never did anything? Hah. What about the time that you slapped me in the face in front of the entire school and said our friendship was over? You called me names. You said that I deserve every bruise you gave me. The rest of you weren’t any better.” She turned around and with the flick of her wrist, the heavy desks were in the air, robbing anyone of a hiding place.

“You stood by and allowed it to happen. You destroyed my stuff, claiming I deserve it. My sketchbook, filled with commissions, torn and stepped on like trash. You all crossed a line that Chloe didn’t even dare and you call it the right thing to do. Hypocrites all of you. Some of you have known me since l'école primaire. What was it about me that you believed her over me?! ”

What happened next was all a blur to everyone, there was a lot of screaming involved, some blood, lightning and thunder everywhere and then, black.

Nino opened his eyes to see Alya peacefully sleeping on her desk. What happened?...Oh Crap I fell asleep. The last thing I remember was….MARINETTE!

Nino snapped his head up. And saw the rest of the class and Mme. Bustier asleep in their respective places.

But there was a sense of wrongness. Something was off... and he can’t pinpoint on what.

The bell rang, startling everyone awake. Nino checked the time. And crap did they all sleep through the first period?! Turning towards his now-awake girlfriend, “Hey Alya, Alya, what do you remember?”

He was surprised to see red eyes like she had been crying. “I- I- I had the weirdest dream. Marinette was there, like she never died and she… why are you looking at me like that?”

“Don’t freak out but I don’t think it was a dream.”

On the rooftop, above the classroom, a red clad figure lounged at the edge with her airpods in and chuckling to herself.

-----

Marinette didn’t torture them. Scared the hell out of them, sure but it was harmless. Mostly. She left carved words on everyone’s wrists which no one else but the class can see. (This one is more mental than anything.)

The scars are unique depending on how close they were to Marinette before she died. Most of the class had the word ‘friend’ crossed out. FRIEND

Nino and Kim had Childhood friends. It serves as a painful reminder of how long they had known the girl.

Alya was a special case with BEST FRIEND and ‘A good reporter always checks her sources’ underneath it. She remembers saying those words to Marinette a long time ago, back when she thought she knew Marinette.

Mme Busitier had Best Teacher and when she was in the comfort of her own home, saw ‘Bully Enabler’ on her other wrist.

Adrien and Lila were questioned as they weren’t the only ones with scars on their wrists. (Although Lila had LIAR written in big letters across her forehead with a sharpie and a drawn-on-moustache of a cartoon villain.)

Nino managed to get the class to back off on Adrien and later to pull him aside to explain about the scars on his back and why did Ladybug (who was apparently Marinette this whole time and she was dead... he thinks.) called him ‘Traitor’?

Adrien told Nino everything. The curse didn’t interfere so for the first time in months, Adrien was able to say the truth.

-----

That was also the day that Lila’s reign finally ended.

The class had suspected for a while about her lies and false promises. There were a few inconsistencies in the beginning that were overlooked and brushed off as Lila’s memory problems.

They all had for the first two years had defended Lila against anyone (mainly Marinette) who thought she was a liar. Lila herself made sure that her lies were believable, actually putting in research for once in her life and planting evidence here and there about her achievements with a few faked articles. They staunchly believed her lies until Marinette’s death.

With her main enemy finally down and everyone else who opposed her, lost their morale along with their ally, Lila stopped putting in the efforts to make her lies seem real and then the cracks of her kingdom began forming.

At first, the students of Mme Bustier class believed them but the stories soon seemed like bragging but they were too polite to point it out to their ‘nice’ and ‘shy’ classmates.

Lila began making mistakes from her lack of research and a few of them later pointed out the few inconsistencies but they were brushed off as memory lapses.

More and more of these ‘memory lapses’ happened more often and soon, most of the class had their suspicion of Lila.

They were just in denial of Lila lying to them.

A few like Max, Nathaniel, Juleka and Sabrina who finally find out that Lila was lying and confront her about it were threatened and they were too afraid to do anything.

After all, Marinette had tried to disprove them and look where she is now. Six feet under.

And the ‘ghost attack’ from Marinette was the final straw.

The class tried to help Lila get rid of the sharpie, especially the one on her forehead and Alya made a comment how it was so typical of Marinette despite being dead and some half-heartedly agreeing.

Max, frustrated that his friends still can’t see it that Lila is a liar and they were the ones who drove Marinette to death that she is now haunting them and it was all their fault, took out his detailed research to disprove Lila’s lies. Nathaniel, Sabrina and Juleka spoke up and brought out their own research. The seeds of doubts which had been planted the past years were finally sprouting

A while later, the entire class was in chaos, everyone was shouting at Lila, some of them were shouting at Adrien, Alya being in complete denial and Mme. Bustier trying to maintain the peace.

Unknown to them, the camera in the classroom was being live streamed to a screen in a room in Le Grand Paris, complete with audio as a group of teenagers watched the chaos unfold.

“You know.” Chloe said, “I thought it was hilarious when you went all bloody mary on them but this shit is way more entertaining.”

Maria smiled, satisfaction on her face as she snatched some popcorn from Alix. “Oh, I had fun. Took years but Lila is finally getting what is coming to her. In about an hour, Signora Rossi is going to come through the door with the police.”

“What did you do, M?”

“Let’s just say the Italian Embassy and the French Police got an anonymous tip this morning about Lila Rossi and the incidents following her around the schools she had attended in the past couple of years.”

“No..” Alix gasped.

Maria just smirked.

-----

Gabriel was freaking out when Adrien came home and told him about what happened to his class.

He did not need another ghost attack on top of everything else.

First, Afterlife had managed to steal some (read: a lot) of Gabriel’s investors and Gabriel’s shares were plummeting.

Secondly, there were a few important documents leaked onto the internet, showing a few suspicious purchases which had the brand and himself under scrutiny.

Third, Natalie told him about her recent condition which occurs during the night and raised a few suspicious glances from Emilie when there was a raven in the house while Gabriel wanted to see proof of this transformation.

Lastly, Emilie had been poking around about the years she was in her coma and it was sheer luck that she hadn't found out about Hawkmoth and connected the dots.

He called up John again to complain that it didn’t work and asked for a refund or face a lawsuit. John pointed out that the spell only worked in the house and kept ghosts out of it and other places were free game.

Needless to say, Gabriel pulled Adrien out of school to be homeschooled again and made sure Emilie stayed inside, no matter what.

The longer Natalie stayed as a raven, the whiter Gabriel’s head of hair became and he was beginning to lose hair at a very fast rate.

----

(Part 7)

I swear I didn't mean to forget tagging you guys.

Taglist: @local-witch-of-mn, @ladyqnoirr, @lolieg, @istoleyourcookies

[oneshotnewbie]

Kate Beckett x Reader - Change of Fate / Chapter 1

Kate had never felt so helpless in her life as she did now, not even at the point in her age when her mother was brutally murdered and left to die in an rotten alley. She was a detective and yet she had no plan where her partner and best friend was, not to mention her unborn baby, although that is exactly what she should know as a good partner.

You'd been gone for more than 24 hours now, there was not a single reference to your stay and she didn't know where, who or what had taken you but she knew exactly that you wouldn't have left voluntarily. That's what the medium-sized blood stain in your living room told her when she had a queasy feeling and drove to your apartment that night and found it.

You had given her the key as soon as you found out about your pregnancy so that she could come over whenever she had an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, she needed distance from Castle or she had to know that you were okay if you missed her calls for a few hours.

She was protective of you like a lioness. Anyone who got in your way had to get past her first. But this time she came too late and wasn't there when you really needed her.

And for that she hated herself.

"Beckett," she startled and casted her angry and at the same time sad and thoughtful look at Esposito while she was still thinking about you and the unborn baby. "We have a lead, hurry up!"

Immediately she realized the said words and her mind began to process things too quickly, already circling around the thought of holding you in her arms. With a speed, she let the chair she was sitting in, flying against the wall behind her. The brunette clutched her jacket, weapon and badge and disappeared to the elevator.

She couldn't drive her company car; Esposito had taken the key from her. She was too shaky and upset to drive herself. Instead, he got behind the wheel, also hoping the nightmare was soon over for both you and his best friend.

He was afraid of what she would do if she got her hands on the guy who had done whatever to you, but he was prepared, Espo knew how the woman next to him was when something was taken or hurt from her.

Kate got out of the half-moving car and ran around it to immediately grab a vest and put it on herself. She tied her hair in a ponytail and wanted to walk in, but was stopped by Ryan by a firm grip on her arm. "Wait for us, you don't know what or how many people you will find!"

Angry and nervous, she bit her lip and took a few steps back to the car where she stood with both feet firmly in the ground, as a sign to Kevin that he could let go of her and that she waited and wouldn't go in there alone. She knew the rules by heart, but this was different. Not only was her mind screaming at her to go in there immediately and not waste one more second, but also her body. As if her legs would want to step through that door on their own; she had to control herself.

Her entire body shuddered of fear of what was going on behind the closed metal doors of the large hangar. She had already gone through every single possibility in her head, but she was still afraid that the worst scenarios were more realistic than finding you. Whether you were in there at all or it was a clue into the void yet again.

In the meantime the whole cavalry had arrived with an ambulance and gathered around the three detectives and Castle, the captain was also there and directed the whole thing, Beckett couldn't. The brunette didn't even listen to the instructions. She just wanted in - in and find you.

Snipers had already moved on the roofs and looked through the window ceiling of the hangar, there was no one to be seen yet. And that had given Kate a punch in the stomach.

Fully armored men divided themselves to the three different entrances and waited for the starting shot to enter the building while the three detectives stood at the front door and waited for the captain's confirmation. Kate looked at her intently and she nodded. Two armed men opened the thin yet heavy doors and they moved in like a swarm of bees. Kate was the first of the group to enter, gun drawn.

There was dead silence.

The hangar hadn't been used for a long time, nobody had taken care of the things; boxes were everywhere and blocked the view, making it harder for them to see any attackers before the exchange of fire.

Full of adrenaline, she held her flashlight with a firm grip under her gun and kept walking forward. She broke up with some of her members and tried to find a way through that maze to get to the end. She had to watch out for you every inch of this building.

"Captain, in the back there is something elongated, seems to be some kind of tub." said one of the roof gunners and Kate's heart began to beat faster. "I think I see feet, but I am not sure."

It was the channel on which everyone had to switch on, Beckett had heard everything and she was the only one that was near it, she already saw it from afar.

Her light permeated over the entire floor and her gaze was fixed on something glittering on the floor. Kate looked around once more and ran in the direction of the shiny object. In front of it, she knelt down and took it in her hand while squeezing it hard. The shock ran through her entire body.

It was your necklace that you got shortly before your mother passed. Kate clearly remembered the story you told her about this jewelry; it went on for several generations and you wanted to give it to your baby girl when she turned 18, just like you got it.

"Y/N!" she screamed desperately as she turned around in hope you'd answer. Her eyes made themselves independent and encompassed the lifeless body. She caught her breath in her lungs as she drew in a sharp breath. "NO!"

She was in the field of vision where she could look past the tub from every corner, and there you lay; in a puddle of water - soaking wet and motionless.

[joaquinwhorres]

The Fool (Ch. 6) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.

PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 4,589

WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.

A/N ››››› General plea for validation through reblogs and comments.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net | Read on AO3

Wren felt sick all morning.

Ever since Fred and George had been escorted off to the Hospital Wing by Lee Jordan, she felt as if her stomach was twisting in on itself. She supposed this was a natural reaction to sending your friends to the Hospital Wing--a theory that was further solidified throughout the day as it seemed like everybody was talking about the failed attempts to enter the Tournament. Fred and George were not the only ones thwarted by the ageline, but their story was by far the most popular throughout the castle. Wren had even heard a group of ghosts gossiping about it, and several portraits had stopped her on her way to the common room to interrogate her about the incident and settle a debate as to whether their beards had gone down to their waist or their ankles.

The Common Room was not much safer in terms of avoiding talk of the Failure. Lee Jordan appeared to be holding court in the corner, recounting the story from his perspective to an enraptured audience, and even up in her room, Wren couldn't seem to get away from the terrible feeling that had made itself right at home in her core. Even her Potions' homework wasn't enough to distract her from the fact that Fred and George still hadn't made their way up to the common room yet, and it was nearing lunch.

Which was why right before noon, Wren found herself hovering outside the Hospital Wing.

It seemed to be busier than normal, which wasn't that much of a surprise, given how many names of unsuccessful entrants Wren'd heard other students throw around. She had to admit though, that she was a bit surprised at how raucous the noise was. Wren edged a bit closer to the open door, one voice rising above the others in an uncanny imitation of an old Scottish woman. "Albus, last year a known murderer and pack of Dementors roamed the school, and the year before that the heir of Slytherin opened the Chamber of Secrets. Perhaps, we could open it up to all students turning 17 this year?"

A slow measured voice responded, "Now, now, Minerva. Dementors and Basilisks are one thing, but a student died over 200 years ago from this Tournament. And even though it's now Ministry sanctioned, and we could potentially make it a tad bit safer, we must remain true to the spirit of the games, and only students who are of age can enter."

"But Albus, a student died--"

Footsteps rounded the corner, and Wren jumped back whirling on the couple who just came down the hallway.

Not a couple.

The bronze haired boy who was smirking as he said something to the girl walking beside him was Simon. He looked up from the blonde, his eyes landing on Wren who was just a step away from entering the Hospital Wing, and surprise quickly overtook his features. Still, he didn't look quite as surprised as Wendy Fairchild did, her cheeks turning a delicate pink.

"Wren?" Simon said, as if he couldn't believe that she was actually there. Then again, she could count the number of times she'd been to the Hospital Wing over the past six years on her fingers, so maybe it wasn't entirely unreasonable for him to be so shocked. Her eyes were drawn once again to Wendy, who suddenly looked very uncomfortable and very trapped. Simon stepped away from the blonde and towards Wren. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

Her eyes shifted to the Hospital Wing's door, the noise suddenly quelled by the sound of a sharp admonishment. "I had a stomach ache, is all," Wren said, stepping further away from the door.  "Hi Wendy."

"Hi Wren," Wendy greeted, her eyes darting between the couple as the tension between the three thickened. The blonde Ravenclaw licked her lips, her eyes darting for Simon as if he'd provide a way out of the awkward situation but he was focused on Wren, the worry gone from his face, and a cool stoniness taking over in its place. A small sigh escaped Wendy. "Well, I best be going. Thank you again for the help, Simon," she offered a brief strained smile at the couple before hurrying off down the hallway.

Wren looked down at the stones between her and her boyfriend, eyes studying the grooves and dimples.

"I heard about what happened to Fred and George," Simon remarked, and Wren's stomach rolled. Words bubbled up, excuses and explanations and apologies all at the tip of her tongue as she looked up at him, but he continued. "I'm sure you see now why I didn't want you to do it."

Wren flushed and nodded her head, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Simon I--"

"It's ok, Wren," Simon cut her off, stepping forward and folding her into his arms. "I forgive you." He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hand. "At least you realized how foolish it'd be and pulled out."

Wren offered up a shaky smile which dissolved as Simon bent forward and kissed her, before releasing her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe next time, you'll just listen to me."

The sick feeling in her gut was worse, her insides churning in protest even as she kept her lips sealed shut, keeping her confession trapped inside. Simon looked down at her, seeming to note her silence.

He sighed, withdrawing his arm from around her. "You might as well just ask, I know what you're wondering."

Wren's brow furrowed in confusion as she cast him a look. "What I'm wondering?"

"Wren, I'm not stupid. I saw the look you gave me with Wendy, and I see the look you're giving me now. You're easy to read."

Realization dawned on Wren at what he was implying, and she quickly stumbled over her words. "Simon, I--"

"She needed help with her Alchemy work, and that's it. Nothing happened."

"I know--" Wren started again, but Simon cut her off.

"I made one mistake," Simon said. "One. And you and I both know that you're just as responsible for it happening as I am."

Wren looked to the ground, nodding her head. "I know. I…" she trailed off. "You're right. I shouldn't have even wondered. I'm sorry."

Simon sighed, his arm going around her shoulders once more. "I forgive you, I just wish you'd believe me that I love you."

"I do," Wren said, looking up into his face. "I know you love me."

He nodded solemnly. "More than anyone else ever could," he said before pressing his lips to hers and whisking her away to lunch.

Wren spent most of her lunch picking at her food and absentmindedly listening to Alicia's ranting about her parents and their post-Hogwarts desires for her and to Katie's wondering about whether everything Professor Moody did was strictly legal.

If the other girls noticed that Wren hadn't really touched her food or seemed to be preoccupied, they didn't say anything. It's possible a look was shared, but she didn't catch it.

Instead, she sat there distracted until she noticed her dorm mates getting up from the table, and she did the same, leaving behind a half full plate to follow them up to the common room.

There, she lost four games of Exploding Snap in a row, and was in the middle of losing a fifth when Fred and George burst through the portrait hole, announcing their arrival with a chorus of "Heyyyyy".

Wren's head snapped to them, watching as the twins modeled their newly clean-shaven faces, stroking the smooth skin of their chins to a smattering of applause and laughter.

Fred scanned the common room, his eyes locking on hers once he found her. He navigated his way around the couches and chairs to her. "There she is…" Fred said as he approached, and she flinched. Alicia tapped the stack of cards and looked entirely unapologetic as Wren glared at her.

"Cheater."

"Hardly," the other girl returned, twirling her wand between her fingers.

Fred plopped himself next to Wren as George sat next to Alicia, throwing himself into her lap. She shoved him off, and with a dramatic sigh, he switched to laying in Angelina's.

"About time you're back," Angelina said, tugging at George's ear. He winced, swatting her hand away. "How long does it take to fix a couple of beards anyway?"

"Longer when Dumbledore interrogates us for the secrets of our near success," Fred said, catching Wren's startled glance. "Don't worry--we told him we couldn't divulge any information."

"He seemed to understand but mentioned he'd be much obliged if the recipe  should ever end up under his office door," George said with a grin at Wren.

She flushed, shaking her head. "It didn't even work. I mean you two could have ended up--"

"Maybe it didn't work, Fred cut her off. But no one else even made it through the age line. We're the only ones to have crossed it."

"It was a good bit of magic, Wren," George agreed.

"But it just as easily could have landed you in the Hospital Wing for more than a few hours," Wren argued, and the group exchanged looks.

"I thought we'd been over this," George said, sitting himself up. "It was a minor risk, yeah, but we've taken bigger risks with our own testing."

"Besides, I doubt Dumbledore would have put any enchantment on the Goblet that could harm students if the whole point was to keep underage witches and wizards from entering," Angelina reasoned.

Wren wet her lips, turning this over in her mind. She still couldn't help but feel guilty for her failure, but what made her feel even worse was not the fact that she could have hurt Fred and George, but that she was disappointed her potion hadn't succeeded.

"Come on," Fred said, nudging her shoulder with his own. "You've got to admit, it was at least a bit thrilling to give it a go."

The corner of her lips traitorously twitched up. Around her, her friends made sounds of approval, George even reaching forward to shake her leg excitedly.

"He really came to ask you about the potion?" Wren asked, and Fred nodded solemnly.

"Seemed genuinely interested too," George added.

Wren offered a real smile then, and the group seemed to (accurately) take that as an end to the  conversation.

The rest of the afternoon passed happily. George finally ended Alicia's streak in Exploding Snap and Lee came into the Common Room about an hour later and recounted recent would-be entrants' failures for them. Now that Wren wasn't wracked with worry and guilt with Fred and George, she was able to laugh along with the rest of the group, especially over Lee's dramatic impersonation of Milicent Bulstrode breaking down into hysterics over her newfound beard.

By the time it was dinner, the events of the morning felt like they had passed weeks ago, and Wren traipsed down to the Great Hall with the group more than ready for the Halloween feast.

She wasn't, however, ready for the selection of Champions. Her heart stilled for a moment as Cedric's name was pulled from the cup, her eyes skipping over the group of Hufflepuffs shaking his shoulders and cheering, and instead focusing on Nora.

If Wren were in Nora's shoes, she'd be pale. But instead her cousin was alternating between clapping loudly and cupping her hands around her mouth to cheer.

She was only silenced when a fourth name came out of the cup.

In fact, the whole Great Hall went quiet for a beat. And then another one. And then the whispers started, moving through the room like wind rustling through the trees.

"Harry got his name in?" Angelina hissed next to Wren.

"How?" Katie whispered back, her eyes moving to Wren, but Wren was already focused on Harry, whipping his head around with surprise and saying something hushed and quick to his friends. Dumbledore called him up to the front table and her eyes followed his path, a clawing tightness in her chest as she watched him pass behind Fred.

How had he, a fourth year who by all accounts was not the smartest in his year, managed to get across the age line when the combined minds of her, Fred, George, and Lee hadn't managed it?

Her jaw clenched as a hand closed over hers. "Hey," George said, leaning across Angelina to get her attention. "If You-Know-Who wasn't able to kill him as a baby, you won't be able to now, even with that look."

The joke, coupled with Harry's disappearance into the chamber behind the professors' table, drew the small group's attention to Wren.

"I'm not trying to kill him," Wren protested as Dumbledore and other adults disappeared into the back room as well. With the disappearance of those in charge, the hall grew noisy once more, the chatter electric. "I just don't understand how he got in is all."

The look of mild annoyance on Fred's face melted as he took her in. "She's jealous!"

"Am not," Wren huffed.

"Come on, Wren, a win for Harry is a win for Gryffindor," Angelina said, but her smile was a bit tight, and Wren felt a bit embarrassed at being jealous when Angelina, who had legitimately entered, hadn't been chosen.

"And more than that," Fred said, bending his head forward conspiratorially. "It's a reason to party."

By the time Harry Potter, the guest of honor and very reason for the party, arrived at the Gryffindor common room, the party was in full swing. Students had come together to lay out a solid stash of snacks on a few tables, and Fred and George had procured a few cases of Butterbeer in a suspicious amount of time. This of course meant that everyone was almost vibrating with excitement to greet Harry. Indeed, all of Wren's friends left her the moment he came through the portrait hole to bombard him with well wishes and questions.

Wren, for her part, hung back with Alicia, making her way through a bag of crisps while staring warily at Harry. "Reckon he'll tell anyone how he did it?" Wren asked as Alicia took a long sip from her butterbeer.

"Harry?" Alicia asked, her voice a bit raw from the carbonation. "Probably not. He's rather tight-lipped. It'd be easier to get it out of Ron."

Wren nodded, scanning the room for the twins' younger brother. As her gaze skipped from redhead to redhead, none of them belonged to Harry's best friend. "Where is Ron?"

"This is really bothering you, huh," Alicia asked, her expression sympathetic. "I know you wanted it to work, but honestly Wren, it was always a long shot. The twins knew that."

Wren had no intention of trying to get Ron Weasley to tell her how Harry entered, but she would have been lying if she dismissed Alicia's claim outright.

She had known it'd been a long shot too. She always had a healthy dose of skepticism throughout the endeavor.

But she couldn't get rid of the small, irritating feeling of disappointment that scratched at the back of her mind.

She doubted Dumbledore would want her potion recipe now that someone had had an actually successful workaround.

"Why the long face?" Fred asked, walking back up with George. Over their shoulders, Wren could see Lee tying the Gryffindor banner around Harry's shoulders.

The two followed her gaze and Fred snorted. "Still on about that, then?"

"No," Wren said petulantly. The twins exchanged a knowing look, and she scowled, swatting at them. "I'm not!"

Fred's eyes darted over her shoulder, and she whipped around to catch Alicia mid-nod before pretending she was sipping from her drink.

"I'm not!"

Fred and George exchanged another look, although this one seemed to be more of a conversation between two pairs of eyebrows than just a look.

"Alicia, we're stealing Wren," Fred announced, wrapping an arm around Wren's shoulders and guiding her forward before Alicia could even respond to the statement. George trailed after the two of them, the group stopping in a relatively quiet nook of the common room, away from the thick of the party.

"It has recently come to our attention that you, Wren Collings, are a natural born inventor."

Wren quirked an eyebrow, staring dubiously back at Fred. "What?"

"You're upset that you didn't find the solution to the age line and Harry did," George filled in.

"Plus, you greatly enjoyed the plotting involved in making our potion," Fred nodded.

"So we were talking…" George started

"And we think you'd be an excellent addition to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes product development team," Fred finished with a smile.

"The what?"

"Fred and I have always dreamed of opening a joke shop. We've been working on a few products over the summer," George explained.

"Fake wands."

"Tom-tongue toffees."

"Trick quills."

"And we think that your mind and potions and Herbology expertise would help us with our next  venture," Fred said.

"Your next venture?" Wren repeated.

"Puking pastilles," the twins chorused with a nod.

"Puking pastilles." What they were proposing was so ridiculous, Wren wasn't able to come up with a coherent original thought. Instead she was turning the idea over in her mind--product development with the Weasley twins. It was true she'd enjoyed developing the aging potion with them, but that had been a one time thing. A deal. And even then it hadn't worked. Now they wanted her to come up with entirely original recipes for members of the public to eventually consume? She could poison all of London. Or worse, she could--

"You're spiraling," Fred said matter of factly. "I can see it right here," he said, poking at the crease between her eyebrows, and Wren slapped his hand away. He grinned at her. "Come on Wren, this is an exciting new venture. Nothing to get too in your head about at this stage."

"I just don't think I--"

"If this is going to be another self-deprecating statement, I should warn you. You're wasting your breath," George interrupted, holding up a hand.

"We happen to think you are nothing short of a genius, and there isn't anything you can say to convince us otherwise," Fred added.

Wren blinked at them. "I--" they cast her reproachful looks and she switched directions. "Thank you."

Fred smiled. "I'm going to take that as confirmation that you're in."

Wren shook her head, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It would be easy to tell them no. To stick to the plan of just studying for her classes and spending free moments trying to track down Simon. But she didn't want to.

"Yeah," Wren said with a tentative smile. "I'm in."

While working with Fred and George on the creation of puking pastilles was fun and often led to Wren laughing so hard her sides hurt, it was still, at its core, work . She was fairly certain she had never used her brain so much. Not even for NEWT-level Potions or Transfiguration.

Still, there were far worse uses of her time than being tucked away in the common room or a corner of the library, drawing up plans and theories with Fred and George and sometimes Lee.

"I need a break," Wren announced, placing her book on top of the stack they had pulled.

"Breaks are for the faint of heart," George said automatically, not even bothering to look up from his reading. It had been the line the three used to keep each other on track.

"I fear I'm going into heart failure," Wren answered, dramatically, dropping in her chair. "If I have to read another line about common Italian plants' side effects, I think my heart will finally give out."

"Alright Georgie, I think a break's in order. We don't want poor Wren's heart to explode," Fred said, snapping his book shut.

"So when Wren's going through heart failure, we get a break, but when I'm dying of boredom, you just eulogize me."

"That's about the size of things," Fred nodded, and George grinned, shutting his book and looking over at the two. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he had the chance, a look of curious confusion crossed his face.

"Hullo," he greeted, and Wren turned to see Simon walking towards the group.

"Hi, love," Wren smiled up at Simon. His bronze hair curled above his eyes, and she reached out a hand for him. He shot a quick look at her and then at the Weasley twins, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets. Wren curled her hand back in, resting it on her shoulder as if that was what she intended to do. "What are you doing here?"

"Searching for my girlfriend," Simon offered a small smile. "Have you seen her?

"Simon," Wren laughed lightly as Fred and George exchanged mortified looks at the excuse of a joke.

"Oh! I hardly recognized you. Haven't seen you in ages."

"Ha ha, very funny," Wren smiled and let out an exhale as if he was joking, but he had that look in his eyes that she knew too well. He turned to Fred and George.

"So you're the reason my girlfriend's gone missing."

"What can I say, our presence is a delight." It wasn't the tone of Fred's voice as much as the look of George's face that made her stomach drop.

"Thank you for sharing Wren with us," George stepped in. "Must be hard to let this one go."

"Indeed," he swiveled to Wren. "Speaking of which, have a second?" Simon asked, flashing a seemingly charming smile. Wren looked up at him, and a flash of fear, which she hoped was unnoticeable, crossed her face. She slowly nodded.

"For you? Always," she said, standing up to follow him. Had he heard about George? What did he want? She had heard that tone of voice before, and it never ended well. She followed him a couple of rows over so that it was deserted and nobody would hear them.

"I didn't realize you three were so close," he commented, his voice still friendly, but in the dangerous phase. If Wren thought that her research was going to give her heart failure, she was certain that this conversation might give her a heart attack. It pounded away in her chest, as she racked her brain for an explanation. She had a feeling after Simon's reaction to the aging potion that he wouldn't particularly care for the truth.

"We're not that close," Wren dismissed. "We've just been studying together this year, is all. They're a whiz at Charms, and honestly this NEWT schedule is keeping me so busy--"

"Wren," Simon stopped her. "Don't insult my intelligence."

"What?"

"You're lying. I can see it all over you. What are you really up to with them?"

"What am I really up to?" Wren repeated, her heart beating faster. "Studying. Simon, where is this coming from? Why are you upset?"

"Why am I upset?" Simon asked. "After how you acted when you saw me walking down the hall with Wendy? I should have seen that you were projecting--accusing me of cheating while you're off spending your  afternoon in a dark corner of the library with the Weasley twins!"

"Simon, it's not like that. You've just been busy and I—" Wren started to argue, jerking away and shutting her mouth quickly as Simon shoved a finger in her face.

"Do not turn this into my fault."

"It's nobody's fault. There's nothing wrong here!" Wren began to grow hysterical. "You're reading into things that aren't there."

"So I'm crazy?" He dropped his hand, but moved closer to her, and she took a half step back.

"No, of course not," Wren held her temples "I just--there's no reason to be upset. I would never choose them over you. I-I'll go tell them I have to go. We can go to the courtyard, or wherever you want. "

"Don't even bother. I don't want to be your pity pick. Just go back to them," Simon scoffed, shaking his head. "At this point, I'm used to being left behind. Makes sense you'd do it too."

"Simon, I'll come with you. Just let me get my stuff. Please--" Wren reached forward grabbing his arm, and he snatched it away from her, sending her toppling into a bookshelf. A few books came loose, tumbling to the floor in a messy pile.

"You always do this," Simon's lip curled. "Make a mess of everything. I wonder if your precious twins will put up with half the things I do." Wren watched him leave, trying to blink back the tears forming in her eyes. He was right. She did always make a mess of things. She knew what she should have done--what she should have said. She should have packed up as soon as he came over. She should have told the twins she'd see them in class and told him she had more than a second--she had hours for him. She shouldn't have argued.

Wren wiped away a few tears as she bent down to begin picking up the books and finding their proper places. Footsteps approached the end of the aisle, and her head snapped, hoping Simon had come back.

"Everything ok?" Fred asked, standing at the end of the aisle where Simon had been moments before. Wren quickly glanced back at the book she was shoving into the shelf, as if that would hide her splotchy red face.

"Fine," her voice came out high and not quite as lighthearted as she'd hoped.

"And that's why you've decided to take up a part time job as a librarian?"

She let out a sigh that could maybe possibly be construed as a laugh. "No, I just--um--we stumbled into the books." She hoped that would explain the red face if not for Simon's conspicuous absence.

"Ah," Fred nodded, and she could hear the disbelief in his voice. "And where is the other half then?"

“He…he had to run off. Prefect duties. I told him I'd handle it.”

Fred's eyes rested on her, as she picked up another book and shoved it between two other ones, not able to even concentrate on making sure they were in alphabetical order. She couldn't understand why Fred had taken it upon himself to interrogate her. He was silent even as she picked up another book, as if for once he were carefully choosing his words.

"Must've run off pretty quick. I came as soon as I heard the books."

It was Wren's turn to furrow her brow at him. "Why?"

“What happened here?” George appeared over Fred's shoulder, stopping him from continuing the sentence.

“Simon couldn’t keep his hands off Wren,” Fred said to George. Wren flushed from the choice of words.

George wiggled his eyebrows at Wren. “Kinky.”

She turned redder if possible and Fred’s jaw ticked.

“Need a hand?”

Despite the fact that George asked the question, Wren looked at Fred. “That would be lovely.”

George moved around Fred and picked up the last few books, sliding them onto the shelf.

“Thanks, George,” Wren smiled. He reached over and squeezed her hand. His brow furrowed slightly. Wren looked over his shoulder at Fred who caught her eye before turning and heading back towards their seats. She looked back at George and offered a tight smile, standing up. "Let's go back to take our break."

[violetwolfraven]

Crossover Headcanons

((I know I have requests in my inbox but I just had to get this out of my head. Also I probably won’t be posting those requests for a while because my writer’s block is only barely starting to lift, so...))

Anyway this is gonna start off from one perspective and go to more later. Enjoy. 💜

Tw: past death, nightmares

...

So this is a... spin-off? Of the reincarnation au? An alternate timeline? A variant? Whatever it is the newsies are reincarnated and remember their past.

Also somehow most of them are going to the same college here, (I’m not going to say which one because I don’t want to research colleges right now) even if they’ve got a wide range of majors.

There’s only one dorm building even if people are only allowed to share a room with someone of the same gender.

This works out well for Elmer, because he’s pretty happy to be rooming with his boyfriend, Buttons.

But then he gets up to the floor their dorm is on and almost drops the box he’s holding.

Because it’s fuckin her. His national-level math nemesis since 11th grade. They’ve only faced off twice, the first time with her team winning and the second with his winning, but they’re each the only one who can beat the other in a math competition.

Elmer can see the shock in her eyes as she recognizes him and shouts YOU and then she’s stomping over to him aggressively enough that he’s pretty sure she wants to throw down physically.

Jack (who’s also on that floor with Davey) figures that too, and steps in front of him before she gets too close, but that girl acts like she doesn’t even notice him and shouts I WAS HALF A SECOND BEHIND YOU SOLVING THAT PROBLEM!

Elmer is kinda terrified but he defensively shoots back well I still solved it first and moves around Jack because this is his math nemesis and his fight.

The girl scowls at him for a couple more seconds then just sticks out her hand to shake, and Elmer realizes that he doesn’t actually know her name beyond the surname he’s seen on the back of her mathletes jacket. She introduces herself as Cady Heron.

Elmer Kazprzak, he responds, and Cady looks like she’s trying not to laugh, but he figures that’s probably fair, with how ‘Elmer’ was a common name in 1885 but not so much in 2003.

Jack clears his throat so Elmer introduces him but forgets that this isn’t their high school so things like oh this is Jack. He’s basically my dad. are weird.

Cady definitely thinks it’s weird but she doesn’t question it. Instead she just asks where Elmer is living, and it turns out, of course, he and Buttons are right next door to her and her roommate, Karen.

(I say Cady is living with Karen because Gretchen wanted to live with Regina and rules be damned Janis is with Damien.)

Elmer isn’t completely sure he’s not going to get murdered in his sleep but he guesses if he could handle the 1899 Newsboy Strike and World War I he can handle Cady Heron.

Meanwhile Katherine is going to Harvard so Sarah is rooming with someone she’s never met and she’s a little nervous.

And in stomps a girl who declares I’m a lesbian and if you have a problem with that tell me now so I can switch dorms.

And Sarah responds with my girlfriend out at Harvard would be pretty pissed at me if I did have a problem with that.

The girl lets her guard down, explains that she comes from a small town, and says her name is Alyssa Greene.

After that little bump, they get along good. Alyssa explains that her girlfriend, Emma, registered late and couldn’t get a dorm with who she wanted.

And Sarah’s just kinda like wait Emma as in Unruly Hearts Emma? Alyssa’s just like yeah!! I’m so proud of her!!

Sarah brags a bit about how Katherine is studying to be a journalist with a specialty in queer stories and long story short they become besties and eventually Alyssa introduces Emma for real and Sarah introduces Smalls and Sniper.

Emma and Alyssa are a bit thrown by the whole nickname thing but hey whatever now they have a Lesbian Club!

They do meet up with the boys occasionally but the Lesbian Club meets on a video call with Katherine every Saturday.

Anyway Jack meets Janis in art class and initially they kinda think each other is weird because their styles are very different but then they get in an actual conversation and get along amazingly.

Jack is definitely a fan of Janis’s philosophy of when someone hurts your friends you attack and grind your foe into the ground.

Janis tells her new bestie about Cady and Damien (and Regina, Gretchen, and Karen, though she still keeps Cady and Damien closer than the former Plastics) and she’s honestly shocked by the amount of friends Jack tells her about.

She does recognize some names, though. Romeo and Damien are both theatre majors and they’ve become friends.

But anyway Jack and Janis are like. Super good friends. Art buddies. Mlm/wlw solidarity. Protective friend pals.

Janis is pretty surprised when she introduces him to Cady and they’ve already met, and apparently oh fuck your math nemesis is Jack’s Elmer???

Jack’s just going oh fuck Elmer’s math nemesis Cady is Janis’s Cady???

Also Regina met Spot and Sarah at the gym and now they meet up with a few other people every other week to throw down like their own personal fight club.

At first Regina was just angrily trying to fight with no technique, but don’t worry, Spot and Sarah teach her.

There weren’t a ton of out gays at Northshore High, so yeah the Mean Girls crew definitely gets along with the Newsies crew out of solidarity.

Janis and at least one of the Plastics but I can’t choose which one(s) join the Lesbian Club.

Meanwhile Race is super hyped to meet Emma cause like I choreographed a dance to your song wanna see???

Emma is flattered but kinda weirded out and she mentions her friend Angie who’s a dancer too and Race is just *error 404*

Cause of course he saw the news story and knows Emma knows these 4 big Broadway stars but it just. Hasn’t connected until this moment that she like has their numbers.

He tries not to freak out too much cause he knows that’s weird but Emma eventually goes do you wanna meet her? And Race goes do I wanna meet her? She’s only my IDOL!! she’s been dancing like 20 years and she’s still got it!!

Emma calls Angie partially because she likes her new dancer friend and wants to make him happy and partially because she wants to prove to Angie that people do appreciate her zazz and despite how she was just a chorus girl until a few months ago this random boy from New York has been a fan since he was 12.

Angie can’t exactly fly over at the drop of a hat but she watches some videos on YouTube of Race dancing and like holy hell this kid is good. And his friends are too but this kid right here has zazz off the charts.

When she finds out he’s an orphan she’s lowkey can I adopt him??? but then she finds out he already has an adoptive mother and it’s Medda Larkin.

Medda Larkin who did more than a few shows with Angie when they were young but left Broadway to open her own theatre.

They fell out of touch years ago but still follow each other on Instagram and stuff.

But Angie shows Barry and Dee Dee and she’s super excited like remember Medda Larkin??? THIS IS HER ADOPTIVE KID AND HE’S AMAZING

And they watch YouTube clips of Emma’s new friends in high school shows and like wtf these kids are fuckin talented why aren’t they on Broadway???

They almost tell Emma to tell her friends to drop out of college and come straight (haha not that straight) to Broadway but Trent is like wtf no education is important.

Whatever the actors aren’t that relevant.

Sarah has a nightmare about her death one night. And with the others it’s not as big of a deal because they’re all rooming with each other, but Sarah’s roommate isn’t one of them.

She thinks Alyssa is asleep so she calls Katherine crying about how scared she was, how guilty she felt to be leaving her brothers and friends and Kath without a goodbye.

And Alyssa isn’t quite awake, but she’s awake enough that she hears Sarah whisper about how everything is just so stupid complicated. I shouldn’t be afraid of dying when I’ve done it before—when we’ve all died horribly—but I still am, Kitty. I can’t stop being afraid.

Alyssa is out of it enough that she falls back asleep, but when she wakes up she knows what she heard. That her roommate thinks she had a past life and died and implied that all her friends did.

Emma notices she’s acting weird and when she asks what’s wrong she tells her.

They both know it sounds crazy, but...

Emma tentatively points out some weird things about their friends from New York.

She’s study buddies with Race and occasionally he points something out she got wrong on her history homework. Something so small and inconsequential that it would’ve been almost impossible for him to know unless he was there and remembered from experience.

Smalls and Sniper have a habit of jumping apart if they were so much as holding hands and someone walks in on them, even though they come from a mostly accepting city with an accepting friend group.

That whole group straight up skipped history class the whole week they were learning about World War I and refused to make up the work.

They bring the half-baked theory to Janis who immediately remembers all the times she’s seen Jack draw small war-torn towns in France and dirty city streets and an outdated skyline as if seen from a rooftop, all of them too detailed to be anything but directly copied from something Jack has seen before.

But the question is if they’re drawn from a reference photo or a memory.

Cady realizes, upon hearing the theory, that Elmer and Buttons never take her up on offers to come to football games because they don’t like the noise.

More specifically, she remembers the look on her nemesis/frenemy’s face when he said he didn’t like fireworks.

Aaron notices that Davey always solves math problems by hand. He never uses a calculator unless someone reminds him it’s an option. And half the time, he defaults to using his right hand with terrible handwriting even though he’s left handed. Almost like he was raised with the whole ‘left hand devil’ thing, which doesn’t make sense because he went to a public school; not a religious one.

Damien realizes that Romeo has a habit of correcting the costume department, like he knows the period clothing for Hello, Dolly! better than they do. It annoys the hell out of them because upon some research, he is always right.

Regina notes how Spot and Sarah fight like they’re fighting for their lives in a street brawl. She knows that because she started taking karate in an attempt to win fights. She noticed months ago that her friends use technique that’s barely sustainable, like they’re just trying to stay alive until they can run or backup comes.

However all this is just fun and games, a crack theory they’re all mildly creeped out by but don’t really believe, until Gretchen finds it.

An article on the Newsboy Strike of 1899.

There’s a copy of the Newsies Banner, written by Katherine Plumber, which references strike leaders Jack Kelly and David Jacobs.

But they could write that off as just a creepy coincidence if not for the photo.

It’s the one Katherine and Darcy took that first day, which is in black and white and not the greatest quality, but clearly shows a lot of familiar faces.

A later story by this Katherine Plumber documents lives of street kids with interviews from kids with the same odd nicknames as the group they know.

Regina was the most cynical about this theory and even she can’t deny it now. There’s just too much evidence.

Especially when Karen finds Crutchie’s obituary, but Regina stops her from showing it to anyone else because that’s just too creepy.

The Mean Girls crew and Alyssa and Emma are... unsure if they should confront their friends about this, because a) this is freaky and b) the newsie gang is clearly still harboring trauma due to their deaths.

Plus, as Damien points out, being gay was illegal in 1899. Do you think they want a reminder of how they had to hide their feelings for each other back then?

Emma and Alyssa share a knowing look because they know what that’s like.

In the end Karen lets it slip when she asks Davey a question about her history homework involving World War II, mistakenly believing he was there.

Davey naturally questions her about it and she spills the entire story about how Alyssa heard Sarah’s phone call and they figured everything else out from there. She even shows him the article with the 1899 photo and the Newsies Banner.

And... shit, there’s a lot of memories behind that picture. And that’s them, over a hundred years ago, when they were kids and they weren’t all the same age like this time around.

The old Davey looks so big compared to Romeo and Elmer and god was Specs tall for a 15-year-old.

Davey didn’t even meet Smalls and Sniper in this lifetime until they were 16, but in that picture they’re only 13 and they’re so small.

A sidenote on Katherine has a picture of her in a hairstyle he hasn’t seen her in since 1917.

It’s a mixture between ptsd and nostalgia and Davey can’t decide whether to freak out or be happy.

He takes the article to Jack and tells him about how Gretchen found it and their non-reincarnated friends know.

Jack’s silently cursing the fact that he really should have been more careful with what he drew around Janis, but it’s kinda a relief that they know, honestly.

He shoots a quick text to the group chat and then turns his phone on do not disturb mode while he sits Janis down for a little chat.

He doesn’t go into graphic detail, but he does tell her an abridged version of everything. How they were basically a family and all lgbt+ in the early 20th century and how they died before their time and got a second chance.

It’s more than a little freaky for Janis, but it does explain a lot.

Such as how Jack demonstrates on a dare that he can still do some parkour because once upon a time, he used it to run from the cops.

Elmer tells Cady he’s so quick at math because he used to have to calculate change quickly and later had to help Jack and Davey come up with battle plans based on numbers vs tactics and terrain.

Regina definitely trusts Spot’s combat advice a lot more now because he was essentially a gang leader as a teenager and it has literally saved his life.

Race admits to Emma that her song made him cry because... in this lifetime he might not have had to be closeted, but in his last he was constantly worried about getting arrested or worse if people found out not just about him and his boyfriend, but his friends. His family.

Emma may or may not collaborate with him after that to write a song about how much it hurts to be closeted for your own safety and how much better it feels to be free to be who you are. Race dances in the music video and many of the other newsies make appearances but it’s mainly him and Emma. Spot and Alyssa cry when they see it. Damien does, too.

Who am I kidding everyone cries.

They get like 4 million hits on YouTube and it’s amazing.

The title is probably In the Light or something.

Also Cady, Aaron, Kevin, and Elmer form their own college level mathletes team and no one can beat them.

(Kevin’s not as close with the main group literally only because I don’t know that much about him as a character.)

(Also Stacy, Kailey, and whatever their boyfriends’ names are might be there somewhere but I don’t know them either.)

Katherine does get to meet the new kids in person eventually. And also I didn’t mention this earlier but Specs goes to Harvard too and he comes to visit too.

The power when the Lesbian Club finally gets to meet all in person? Unparalleled.

:)

[i-need-entertainment]

I was Suppoed To Be A Hero: Chronostasis

*Crash* The sound of a glass shattering alerted your four year old son who was drawing pictures at the dining room table, your three year old looking curiously at your horrified expression. “Mommy? What’s wrong?” Your three year old asked, tugging at the hem of your pants.

  *Flashback to five minutes ago* You had been washing the dishes while listening to the tv when, “This just in, eleven members of the Shie Hassaikai have just been arrested…” You droned it out, continuing your work on the dishes. It was around 4:30, your sons were home from Pre-School, your little one was down for a nap, and you had just gotten back from a doctor’s appointment. You were going to get dishes done, and then start on dinner before your husband came home from work, even though he said he’d probably be late. Your husband was usually late, seeing as his boss kept him busy. But despite being busy all the time, and extremely hard working, he ALWAYS made time for you and his boys. If there was one thing you knew about your husband, it’s that he was a loving, devoted and extremely amazing doting husband and father. You two had met when you were around fourteen, started dating when you were sixteen, and gotten married when you were eighteen. You were never concerned about being ‘too’ young you both loved each other, and you knew you’d be just fine. He also had a very well-paying job, ‘Just your average office job’ he’d always told you when you asked, seeing as it was apparently ‘confidential’ you didn’t pry, you trusted your husband. You guys currently had three kids. Three boy to be exact. Kenji (4), Akiteru (3), and Osamu (1). You guys had wanted them to be close in age, so they’d be close, and since you stayed home with them, having three little ones so close in age really wasn’t an issue. Plus you both loved kids. Everything was going fine. Your little Osamu was sleeping, Kenji was making a picture for his daddy, and Akiteru was playing with his action figures. Everything was fine. Everything was normal. That is until, “The man discovered as Kai Chisaki, or Overhaul, has been successfully arrested…” Kai Chisaki? I know that name, I’ve heard him talk about him at dinner… “He and his ‘Eight Precepts of Death’ have all been detained and arrested, including his two non-expendables, as they’ve been revealed as Joi Irinaka, or Mimic, and Hari Kurono, or Chronostasis…” *crash* *Back to present time* “Mommy? Mommy!” You were pulled back to reality by your two oldest sons gently shaking you. “Mommy, are you okay?” Kenji asked, curiously looking at you. You put on your best fake smile, luckily they’re a little too young to catch that it was just a mask for the fear you were feeling. “I’m okay sweetie, I just got a little scared is all. Everything’s okay.” Oh my gosh, what’s going on, that can’t be…there’s no way…that isn’t…no…that’s not my Hari..It can’t be. What am I going to do about the kids….My gosh I hope they didn’t see the tv.. “Mommy?” Akiteru asked, his stone gray eyes staring curiously into your e/c ones. “Yes sweetheart?” “Why is daddy on TV? And why are the cops taking him away? Did he do something bad?” Oh shoot they saw. What do I do!?!? I wish Hari were here, except that he caused this mess in the first place!!! Okay, calm down y/n…calm down. You have to stay strong. For the kids, for your babies!! You took a deep breath, keeping up the strong façade that was swiftly fading. “I don’t know baby. But I’m going to go find out, okay? Now, Auntie Hina is going to come over and take care of you guys, okay? I need you to be good for mommy, okay? Can you do that for me babies?” Both of you sons eagerly nodded, excited to see their Auntie Hina. Luckily for you, your sister lived close by. You quickly called you sister over, who had been on her way over anyways after seeing the news, kissed both of your sons cheeks goodbye, gave them both one last squeeze and ran to your car. But before you could leave, your son burst through the door. “Wait mommy!” You opened your door, “What is it Sweetheart?” Kenji gave you the picture he had made for his dad. “Can you give this to daddy? Auntie said we might not see him for a while, and I want to make sure he knows me and Kita love him.” You gave your son a tight hug, fighting the tears that were just begging to fall. “Of course sweetie, I love you” “I love you too mommy! Bye!” With that he ran back inside, and you sped out of the drive way and into the police station. You parked your car, and ran into the building practically falling once you got inside. You rushed up to the front desk where a sweet middle aged lady sat. “Hello ma’am, how may I help you?” You tried to steady your breathing and calm down, but your race up here and adrenaline wouldn’t let you. “I need to see my husband…I-I need to talk to him.” You stuttered out, fear and pain heavily lacing your tone. “Okay ma’am, what’s your husbands name?” “Hari, Hari Kurono or Chronostasis, I don’t know but he’s only been here for like thirty minutes or something, please I need to talk to him!” The lady sorrowfully looked down at her computer and began to type on her key board, asking for you to ‘give her just a second’ and ‘I’ll see what I can do’. This had become a common occurrence for the poor assistant, since the arrests were made the family members of the Yakuza members have been coming in, faces stained with tears, asking to see their loved ones. You thanked the lady and sat down in the chairs, bouncing your leg up and down and nervously looking around. “Mrs. Kurono?” You looked up to see Detective Tsukauchi. “Yes?” You stood up shaking as you did so. The young detective smiled, trying to ease the discomfort and tension. “You can see your husband now, but only for fifteen minutes, we’ve already interrogated him, but, do you mind if we ask you some questions?” “Okay, thank you. No, not at all.” You two walked into a room and sat down, both facing each other across the table. “Did you know of your husband’s involvement in the Yakuza?” “No, I had no idea. Hari…he’s a good man.. at least, he always was to me. We’ve been married for four years, he’s a good man, an even better father!” Due to Tsukauchi’s quirk, he knew she was telling the truth. “Thank you, I’m very sorry about this, I know this can’t be easy. But, if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to call.” “Thank you, this all just a shock…just this morning he was fine….he was normal….Listen, I don’t know who that man is, but I know that isn’t my Hari..” Tsukauchi nodded in agreement and lead you to the room. He opened the door, gave you one last sympathetic smile, let you in the room and closed the door. You looked up to meet shocked, even scared stone gray eyes. The same gray eyes two of your sons inherited. But they weren’t the same gray eyes your husband had. They were colder, emptier, emotionless. “What are you doing here…” He stated, not being               able to meet your gaze. “I’m here to see my husband.” He scoffed looking down at the table. You took a seat, Crossing your leg, clasping your hands, hardening your gaze and looking towards your beloved husband. “So?” “So what?” “Are you going to explain?” He scoffed again, looking up to meet your eyes, cold gaze staring right into your soul. “Explain what Y/n? Explain why I was working for a ruthless gangster? Explain Why I dealt drugs? Why I killed people!? I’ll tell you why! It’s because its who I am, Y/n. I’m a bad guy, I do bad things, that’s who I am.” Y/n could feel the tears start to fall. She bitterly chuckled. “No. My husband isn’t the bad guy. My husband is a good man, he’s a good father, he’s a good husband dang it! And if you’re telling me that you’re not all those things, then…then..then I guess you’re just not the man I married Chronostasis. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I didn’t marry him, I married Hari Kurono!” They both sat there silenced. “I love you Hari. I really really love you. I could never see myself with anybody else. But…But I just…Gosh! I don’t know what to do Hari!” “What? Do you want to get a divorce? Huh?! Do you want to leave? Take our three kids!! GO AHEAD!” “I DON’T WANT TO GET A DIVORCE HARI!” “OH YEAH?! THEN WHY WOULD YOU BOTHER TO STAY!?!!” “BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO RAISE FOUR CHILDREN BY MYSELF!” By now Y/n had stood up, hands slammed down onto the table, tears uncontrollably streaming down her face. Hari’s brain flipped a switch. The hostile, cold façade slipping once he looked down and noticed the small, albeit barely noticeable, bump on his wife’s stomach. She fell back down into her chair. “I didn’t want to believe them you know…” He just looked back down in shame. “I didn’t want to believe my husband was a criminal…a murderer.” “One more minute Mrs. Kurono” A guard called from outside. Y/n sighed, wiping her tears she stood. “Listen Hari. I don’t know what to do. Heck, I don’t even know how long I’m going to be ‘Mrs.’. I just…I need time.” He simply nodded in acknowledgement, still unable to meet his possibly soon to be estranged wife. She then put something down on the table. “Your sons made that for you…I already talked to Tsukauchi…he said you could have it. Goodbye Kurono.” Something seriously hurt hearing his last name come out of his dear wife’s mouth. “I’m sorry…Y/n..” She stood up walking to the door and opening it. “me too…believe me..”. After she left, he was taken to his cell, the picture from his sons being taped onto the wall. He took the picture down to look at it. His son had drawn their whole family. He smiled, despite inheriting his looks, all three of his sons had inherited Y/n’s good heart. Who knows about his new unborn child…He was about to put the picture back up when it slipped from his hands. He went to pick it up only to see it had flipped over. Written on the back in his sons messy handwriting was a message. Not even the words his wife had said to him cut him as deeply as this did. “To: Daddy. The coolest, and bestest daddy in the world! Your my hero daddy! Love Kenji, Akiteru, Osamu and Mommy.” *drip drip drip* His hands shook as his tears flooded out of his eyes. He shakingly brought his hands up to hi head clutching his hair. How could he be so stupid? How could he risk it all, risk everything he had ever wanted for…for someone who used to be his friend? How could he be so careless? Why couldn’t he be the hero…his son thought he was… why couldn’t he be the hero….he was supposed to be. I was supposed to be a hero…I as supposed to be their hero…

[philomenafm]

(NATALIA DYER, DEMI GIRL) - Have you seen PHILOMENA CARMICHAEL? PHILLY is in HER/THEIR SOPHOMORE year. The WILDLIFE SCIENCE MAJOR is 20 years old & is a TAURUS. People say SHE/THEY are WHIMSICAL, PATIENT, APATHETIC and UNPREDICTABLE. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE CONCEALED MURDEROUS EVIDENCE  (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

ive done sm switches bt. she is the one. she is the one i love. trust me. ples. this is an old intro n im frankly. too lazy 2 read it bt. i love her a lot shes very good please like her

TW CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION DISORDER ( ALT. DISSOCIATION ), DEATH, DECAY, MAGGOTS.

aesthetic.

wildflowers in your hair and bare feet against moss, binoculars and maps, madonna beating out of half-dead speakers in a half-dead van, whipping wind, jumping off cliffs and rolling down hills, a bandaid wrapped around each finger, cryptic bumper stickers and cryptids in the woods, facing the sun and letting the rays hit you, counting stars late into the night, dancing naked in the woods with nothing but fire to light your way, mismatched socks and lucky ribbons, hoarding a box of special treasures, shoplifting and diner-dashing, bleach against roots, pink sweaters paired with ripped fishnets and slip dresses with knock off uggs, willingly wearing crocs, glitter stickers, fungi and feeling one with them, lying down and decomposing, they’ll find us in a week. they’ll find us in a week.

basics.

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, etc.

b.o.d. - april 20th, 2000

label(s): the amaranth, the halycon, the neophyte, the wanderer, etc. etc.

height: 5′4″

hometown: woodside, ca

sexuality: demisexual

pinterest ( & her family pinterest b/c they’re my most developed family uwu)

stats

favorite song: wonderfully bizarre, bendigo fletcher / we can be defined by the things we want / i’ll be a life full of free haircuts from the one that i love / we’ll collect fallen out teeth in a candy jar / mice for the backyard peregrine falcon reservation.

background.

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long.

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs.

there is trauma though, deep-rooted but somewhere inside - you just have to look for it.

you. just. have. to. look. for. it. look for it. look for it. look for it look for it look -

you were ten and she was thirteen, an off-trail hike in familiar woods in a familiar town, safe and familiar. it was your idea, to stray from the carved out paths, down creeks and up hills and round, and round again. you’re the one who spotted the scarf first, sticking up from the dirt and dancing in the wind like the beginning of reincarnation. it was not reincarnation, it was discovery. it was ruin. with curiosity drawn, you skidded down - with compliance, followed juno, followed your sister - clumsy in her steps and tumbling down quicker than you. you saw the corpse, but juno felt it. decaying flesh and maggot.

and she left juno, just like that - just five years later, when juno had finally gone to the end of her wits. philly up and left. abandoned her.

philomena and elektra leave the city after that therapy session. they do not return. she’s always been good at hiding her secrets.

three years later and her parents want philly to have a higher education - desperate for it, really - worried for her future. it’s a battle that she loses, getting her ged and applying to a local college in florida in shameful compliance.

they’re there for a year until philly gets (expectantly) expelled from the community college & the two of them are banned from the town they’d residing in up until that point. they don’t talk about it - but boy, was it one hell of a time.

they found refuge in preaker, a town that seemed to suit them well - it suited elektra’s desire to travel up and down the east coast, and it intrigued philomena enough to the point of her being content with staying. soon after, philly officially transferred to yates for her freshmen spring term & theyve been here since.

(whenever anna brings cillian uh. he’s in here too he’s been traveling w them fr like 3ish years. i just cannot rewrite atm KDSGLSDKLGKFGHLKSL bt hes here. n hes sexy. n we love him. bro3tp)

OH. hey yeah the secret. errmm. tht’s on cillian. philly just hid the evidence. no they didnt kill someone yes they did no they did not <3 yes

personality & facts.

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon (& so does leo fowler eyes emoji)

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been. she tries to be good while in preaker / yates - would hate to be forced out by mobs with torches and pitchforks

currently living in calloway while elektra stays in their van, florence - sometimes philly stays there during the weekends.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first and only kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her. edit: her first & only kisses hv been w leo fowler. this is important

will consume anything you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her. third favorites? florence, of course. fleetwood mac. the bird and the bee.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggling.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

( like her frequent visits to the woods, late at night when the moon is high and full. it’s freeing to dance around a fire, stark naked in the cold. builds immunity )

comes and goes wherever she pleases, nothing & nobody can stop her. she knows to respect nature. exudes natural trust energy <3 dont know wht tht means but

the trust expands to animals as well, she has a certain knack for getting them to like her. has too many ‘pet’ rats that reside with her, alongside a baby raccoon & a few crow pals. has a new animal companion everyday, but she doesn’t contain them or force them to stay. edit: she hs a tabby cat named pail, now. named in honor of her mother, bucket.

leaves her window in calloway wide open because of this, because her window is conveniently right besides a tree with sturdy branches. good for animal smuggling, sneaking in and out, hiding, etc. etc. world is her oyster.

though her room in calloway is ??? frankly a mess ??? already ??? usually keeps most of her possessions in her memory box but she’s also turned her room into a mini labyrinth of knick-knacks. very cozy, but very nest-like. think of howl’s room from howl’s moving castle.

wanted connections.

how did you get in here ;; someone whose room she perhaps crashed at late at night, mysteriously. she refuses to explain where she’s come from. she’s gone before you wake. they could literally not know her at all she’s just sleeping halfway under their bed like <3 thank you <3

ma’am this is a wendys ;;  someone who sees her constantly <3 doing outlandish shit <3 bc lets b real. shes weird. shes a weirdo. why do u think she wears the same hat everyday. (she doesnt wear hats often) anyways. they probably dnt even like her? just think shes very strange?

im literally going to dissect you ;;  someone who. wants to figure out philly. pick at her brain. wear her shoes. kind of in the same category of above in this general like. ur fkn weird. bt they wna figure out why <3 they wna play therapist <3 jokes on u she hates therapists

liddle thief in the night ;; someone who has caught her stealing. or dining n dashing. either/or. perhaps both. she steals a lot :/

oh like. friends n stuff ;; of any closeness. ppl she talks 2 conspiracies with, ppl she goes on late night walks with, ppl she explores with, ppl she steals with, ppl she smokes with, etc. etc. ppl who bring her out to parties cos they like her funky little ways when she gets drunk n tries to climb atop everything <3 

thts nice. anyways ;; this is fr like. literally anything unrequited. philly doesnt like <3 a lot of ppl <3 In That Way. so its basically just. ur muse thinks shes very neat n she thinks ur muse is very neat bt platonically. she doesnt do hookups or anything n if she does i tend 2 like. run purely based off of chemistry even with. most of her connections in general.

uuhh. anything ;; HLKDGKSDLKGHLKSFDSHGKFD i nvr rly hv a lot of connections up fr philly bc shes like. a very unpredictable muse n i think its usually better to just. throw her in! n see wht happens! we cn still plot obv n come up w some fun things bt fr the most part shes very organic

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Enigma (Bran Stark x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Brandon/Bran Stark x Reader

Word Count: 2610

Warnings: Spoilers for season 8 of Game of Thrones, an aggressive drunken man

Request: Can u do a au reader and bran where he meets her during his travels through the kingdoms as their new king he feels intrigued about her because he cannot see anything related to her.. and how they help each other and eventually fall in love... @raveenasblog

A/N: This is such a cute idea! I hope you enjoyed! Also since it is set in Dorne, I would like to remind you that when I use the word “Prince” I am referring to the Lord/Lady of Dorne. In Westerosi history, since the Dornish kingdom had a different history with joining the rest of Westeros, they were allowed to keep the title of Prince instead of calling themselves Lords. It is not speaking in terms of lineage to the Westerosi throne. Okay, nerdy lesson over!

Finally, all the wars were over. The Night King was dead, and so was Cersei Lannister. In Dorne, your new Prince had been put in place and things were seeming to shape up nicely. After years of fear, fighting, and uprisings, you finally felt safe.

As the lands of Westeros were becoming safe once again, your new King announced that he would be touring all of the six kingdoms as well as the North. Despite the past problems between the throne and the southern kingdom of Dorne, you were anxious to meet the new King. He came from house Stark, an honorable house which you had never had a problem with. He had only been king less than a year, but you were sure that he had already done a better job than Cersei. You hated that dreadful woman. You blamed her for the death of Prince Oberyn Martell, and consequently the rebellion that erupted from the sand snakes that led to the murder of the rest of your governing family.

You brushed thoughts of her from your mind, focusing instead on the matter at hand. King Brandon Stark would be at the castle by late tomorrow morning. As a hired hand in Sunspear’s Old Palace this meant plenty of work for you, from sweeping the floors to making sure that every flower arrangement was situated perfectly. You were hosting a king after all; everything had to be absolutely perfect.

You rushed around the palace like a madwoman, furiously cleaning everything until it gleamed and shined. You worked until you thought your limbs might give out, working tirelessly until sundown when you were finally able to return to your quarters.

“Y/N,” called an elderly voice, making you turn to find the source.

“Yes?” You called out, your voice echoing in the empty hallway. An older woman stepped out of the shadows, one that you knew quite well. She was the head of all the other maids, having worked in the palace for most of her life. When you were a scared young girl in need of work, she was the one who had taken you under her wing. She secured you a job in the castle, and helped you hold onto it as power switched hands. 

“Nan!” You smiled, rushing over to give the woman a hug. She returned the hug, holding you tightly as she smiled fondly at the nickname you and the other girls had given her.

“Hello my dear,” she greeted you as you pulled away. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” you said, “thanks to these long hours preparing for King Brandon, I presume.” She sighed.

“Yes my dear, it doesn’t help that we always end up cleaning opposite ends of the castle,” she said with her warm smile that made you feel at home. “But I had to see you before the feast tomorrow.” Your face fell.

“About the feast,” you revealed, “I do not plan on attending.”

“What?” Screeched Nan, making you jump as the usually quiet woman raised her voice at you. “What do you mean you aren’t going? The Prince has even excused you from going as a server!”

“Yes, but-” You started, but Nan cut you off.

“No buts! You get to attend this feast as a single woman, and an attractive one at that. I am not letting you wiggle your way out of this.”

“I don’t think I’d fit in there,” you admitted. “I’m not so sure that I belong in the same room as a King and all the richest people in Dorne. I don’t even have anything to wear.” You gestured to the rags you wore, but as you turned back to Nan’s eyes she was smiling knowingly.

“That’s why I called out to you Y/N, I think I may have something that could help.”

You followed Nan to her chambers which were thankfully rather close to your own so you did not stray too far out of your way. There was a fire lit in the fireplace, illuminating the room in a soft, warm glow. You looked to the bed to only to find the most gorgeous dress that you had ever seen. You couldn’t help the gasp that came from your mouth.

“Nan,” you whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is the dress I was wearing when I first met my dear late husband. At a feast not unlike this one, might I add.” Nan reminisced with a smile. “If you would accept, I would like you to wear it tomorrow evening.” You spun to face her, shocked.

“Pardon?”

“You are a beautiful girl Y/N, and you deserve a beautiful dress for such an occasion. You only meet the King once, after all. Besides, it wouldn’t be too bad to look stunning in front of Dorne’s wealthy when you are of marrying age.”

You blushed at Nan’s words, but you had to admit that you were excited at the prospect. The gown was absolutely perfect. It was covered in swirling patterns that captured the eye, the background fabric your favorite color. You knew that it would look just as nice on you as Nan promised. And she was right, after all. You were of marrying age. It wouldn’t hurt to get dressed up for potential suitors.

“I’ll wear it,” you agreed as Nan clasped her hands together excitedly before pushing the dress into your arms.

“Good luck then dearie,” she called, “seduce you a good one!”

You blushed at her forward words, gathering the dress in your arms before making your way to your own room. You had been dreading tomorrow night, deciding to keep to yourself in your room all night. Now, you couldn’t wait.

The next morning you woke up in a good mood. The sun streamed in through your window ad the birds chirped, making you feel as if you were living a fantasy. You took your time getting ready, preparing yourself for the King’s arrival. Once you were satisfied with your hair and outfit, you made your way down to where the rest of the palace was lining up. You had thought about wearing your new dress, but decided to save it for this evening alone.

As the carriages passed, you craned your neck to see a glimpse of the royal party but to no avail. Anybody of any real importance seemed to all have their windows darkened or their curtains drawn shut. All except for Bran, that was. As he passed you could see him clearly. His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt a smile come to your face. He gave you a small smile back as he carriage proceeded towards the castle. Although it was only for a moment, something about the way he looked at you took your breath away.

You shook the feeling, not allowing yourself to think about Bran that way. He was the King, and you were a lowly servant girl in Dorne. He just happened to meet your eyes was all, as he surely did to countless people trying to catch a glimpse of him.

You eagerly awaited the start of the feast, changing into the dress that Nan had given you. It looked even more beautiful on you. It hugged your body in the right places, but it was still modest. You weren’t that desperate. When it was finally time you strolled through the hallways towards the banquet room with a smile, trying to forget how you hoped to see the King again. See his soft brown eyes, his dark hair that you just wanted to run your hands through.

After you entered, you wandered aimlessly. You never went to these kinds of parties; the only times you did were as a server or a maid. This meant that you knew nobody, and the longer you were there, the more you wanted to leave. This had been your fear, and it was coming true. 

“Good evening Gorgeous,” came a deep voice from your left. You turned to face the Lord, smiling brightly.

“Good evening,” you replied.

“I don’t think I’ve met you before,” he flirted, handing you a glass of wine. 

“My name is Y/N L/N,” you told him as you took a sip of the drink.

“It’s nice to meet you, your name is just as beautiful as you are.” Your cheeks dusted crimson, smiling at him. He told you his name as well, revealing to you that he had made quite a fortune in buying and selling ships. If he was trying to impress you, it sure was working.

You talked to the man for what felt like an hour, but it surely couldn’t have been that long. You stopped drinking after your second glass, always drinking slowly to avoid becoming too intoxicated. This man did not do the same, drinking glass after glass as if it were just water. He quickly became drunk, becoming much more handsy as he drank more. At first it was tolerable, a light touch on the arm. However, he continued to drink and he continued to become more inappropriate. His hands would wander to your waist, and when he asked you to dance his hands would wander lower as you swayed. You kept moving his hands back up, but every time they strayed lower again and again. Agitated, you tried to excuse yourself from the conversation.

“What?” Yelled the man in a drunken rage. “Am I not good enough for you?” You froze as others turned to look at you.

“No, that’s not the case. I’m just going to go grab some-” You said, trying to lie before you were interrupted by the drunk Lord.

“You damn whore! You can’t lie to save your life.” He started stalking towards you as you backed up in fear. “Come back here, you cunt!”

“Excuse me, my Lord,” came a voice from behind you. You were startled, jumping aside wide-eyed. Even more startling to you was that as you turned towards the voice, you saw King Brandon Stark looking towards the Lord who had been causing you trouble. “Is there an issue over here?”

“Yes,” spat the Lord. “This dumb cunt has been leading me on all night, and now she thinks that she can just walk away from me.”

You looked towards King Bran with wide, scared eyes, too afraid to tell him the truth.

“I see,” said the King. The Lord smirked, thinking that he had gotten his way. The smirk was quickly wiped from his face as the King continued, “you are excused from the feast.”

“What?” Yelled the Lord in shock. “What did you just tell me? You can’t say that!”

“As King, I believe that I am allowed to say that. At my own feast, no less.” As the man looked ready to argue more, King Bran continued calmly. “Guards,” he said. You always expected people to yell for their guards, but he asked for them the same way you would expect him to greet anyone. They quickly came to his aid, whisking the other man away.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” Asked the King as he turned his full attention to you.

“I think I am now. Thank you, your Majesty,” you said with a curtsy. “But I am no Lady.”

“Then who are you?” Asked the King. You were just shocked that he was still talking to you.

“Y/N L/N, I’m just a servant who was allowed to attend as a guest,” you said, embarrassed.

“Would you like to join me out on the balcony?” Asked Bran, making your eyes widen and your eyebrows raise.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, not sure that you heard him right.

“I would like to look out over the sea from the balcony, and I wanted to know if you would accompany me.” If you weren’t mistaken, you could have sworn that you saw a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“I would love to, your Majesty.”

“Please,” said Bran as you followed him towards the door. “If I am to call you Y/N, then you can just call me Bran.” You blushed, thankful that he was in front of you and couldn’t see it.

The two of you made your way to the privacy of the balcony, Bran closing the door behind you. 

“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” you said, “ I really do. But I have to ask, why did you help me?”

Bran looked at you with an expression that almost looked cocky, playful.

“Can I not come to the aid of a beautiful woman?” He said, making your cheeks take on a pink hue. Noticing that you weren’t going to take that as a final answer, he continued. “Have you ever heard of Greensight?”

You nodded your head.

“Why? Doesn’t it mean having the ability to read minds or something?” You felt a bit of panic rise in you at the thought that he might have it. You really didn’t want him hearing all the thoughts you’ve been having about him. Especially about how much you liked the way he looked.

Bran chuckled at your words.

“Close,” he said. “It means that a Greenseer can see into the past, and sometimes future, or anybody they would like. I am asking because I have it.” You cocked your head in confusion.

“I still don’t understand why you are helping me.” You froze. “Do I die soon or something and you pity me?”

Bran laughed at your words, and you could’t help but giggle back. He normally seemed so calm and serious, but seeing him laugh carefree made him look even more attractive to you. 

“So I guess that’s not it,” you smile.

“No, not quite,” replied Bran as he returned your smile. “You see, the thing is that I can’t see anything for you.”

“What?” You sputtered, shocked.

“I can’t see anything in your past, nor your future. It is as if there is a wall put up between us, blocking any information. I have to admit, it’s rather intriguing. You’re an enigma.”

“I’m a what?” You said, cocking your head. Bran smiled.

“An enigma. You’re like a puzzle.” You blushed as Bran continued to look at you with his beautiful brown eyes. “I’d like to figure you out.” Now you were definitely blushing.

“What do you mean?” You asked him shyly.

“I want you to come back to King’s Landing with me,” he revealed and your jaw dropped. “I’d like to spend more time with you. I’ve never met somebody that I couldn’t read.”

Despite the suddenness of the situation, it somehow felt right. You felt something drawing you to Bran, and not just because he was King. Something made you want to be with him, stay near him.

“I will return with you,” you agreed. “But on one condition.”

“Anything, Darling.” You had to push down the giddiness in your body at the nickname he used for you before continuing.

“I’m not cleaning the Red Keep.”

Bran laughed again.

“Y/N, my dear, I think you’ve got the wrong idea. You’re returning as my guest.” You blushed harder and harder every time Bran spoke. “My enigma.”

“I have to warn you though,” you stated, “I don’t do well on the water.”

“At least you don’t roll back and forth with the waves.”

You burst out into laughter at Bran’s words, picturing his chair rolling back and forth.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered between fits of giggles. “I don’t mean to laugh at you.”

“It was a joke Y/N, you’re supposed to laugh.” He responded warmly. You could get used to banter like this.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this. Maybe I’ll write a part 2 sometime, as I guess I didn’t completely flesh out the request. I would like to pick up with them in the Red Keep sometime! How about after 100 notes? Or maybe just some requests if you guys have any ideas about how it could go!

Did you enjoy this? Help me continue making content by supporting me HERE!

Buy me a coffee! –> Ko-fi

[crackimagines]

Angsty hc prompt/request for the child!byleth au: Byleth reacting to seeing one of his students dying in battle for the first time, promoting his first divine pulse use. Which student/house is up to you!

child!Byleth Post Masterlist here!

KILLER SOTHIS HAS ALREADY TOUCHED THAT UNIT

SOTHIS, ACTIVATE THIRD BOMB

[B A I T S A D A S U T O] 

idk why i’m being this memey about the prompt, it’s actually really fucking traumatizing for little Byleth

—–

Child!Byleth using Divine Pulse after his student dies HC’s

Child!Byleth Professor AU

Golden Deer

—–

- Death was something Byleth was kind of accustomed to. He didn’t have any quarrels killing an enemy, because that was the way of a mercenary after all. Though, for someone his age, that shouldn’t be normal. At the same time, he didn’t care.

- It was kill or be killed. However, that didn’t make any of the deaths from his side any easier. He’d mourn with the others, but no tears would be shed. They all knew they could die any day in this line of work after all. Plus, it’d be an insult to their memory if everyone broke down like babies.

- What really bothered Byleth were civilian deaths. No matter how many times he saw it, it always shook him. They didn’t have a choice in the matter, and were cut down, sometimes more brutally than the actual soldiers.

- Especially if they were children like him. 

- So, when he was told that the students from his class were to accompany him to kill bandits, that was not something that sat well with him or Jeralt.

- Jeralt wanted to protest, but obviously Rhea wouldn’t listen. Byleth was unsure bringing students to an active combat zone. He didn’t really doubt their capabilities in combat after seeing them in the mock battle, but their psyche? That’s not something anyone can just switch on and off. You had to be born into it, or kill to survive.

- Regardless, it was up to Byleth to keep them alive. Despite their…quirkiness, putting it gently, they began to grow on him.

- So when they approached the battlefield, Byleth saw the bandits began to mobilize. In response, he turned to his class and looked up at them.

(Byleth) “Listen, this is your first real battle, and I will not put this lightly. You WILL die if you hesitate for even a second. I’ve fought plenty of bandits, and they cannot be reasoned with. Keep your mind clear in the battle, and keep each other safe. That is your top priority.”

- Byleth turned around drawing his sword.

(Byleth) “Move out.”

- He motioned the students to move forward while turning to the knights that had followed to supervise.

(Byleth) “Keep close, but do not fight their battles for them. If they’re injured, get them to safety.”

(Knight Captain) “Yes, professor.”

- Byleth nodded and ran ahead of his class, his sword drawn.

- 2 bandits charged him, swinging their swords carelessly. They underestimated him for being a child. Obviously, they didn’t realize who he was yet.

- With a single slice up, he cut one of the bandit’s hands off, the axe flying off into the ground as he screamed, making his friend back up in fear.

(Bandit) “SHIT, IT’S THE BLADE BREAKER’S KID!”

- He turned around to run, but was shot in the back by an arrow.

- Byleth turned his attention to the one screaming, and sliced his head off, no use in holding back.

(Byleth) “Nice shot, Claude.”

(Claude) “Thanks, Teach.” He replied, casually loading another arrow.

- Leonie, Lorenz and Raphael moved up and began fighting the reinforcements. Their movements were fluid, focused and strong. Good, no signs of hesitation.

- Claude and Lysithea began attacking bandits coming from the stairs, thinning their ranks…He saw Hilda sigh before she got into the frontline, cutting down the bandits. Good, she wasn’t being lazy. For once.

(Byleth) “…Wait a second, there should be two more.”

- He made sure that he was safe to take time to look back and saw Ignatz and Marianne hesitating to move up.

- Understandable. They were two of the most gentle souls here, and they just saw a child decapitate someone.

- Byleth spoke to them in his mercenary mindset, calm but demanding.

(Byleth) “Marianne, Ignatz. Get moving, or archers will be able to snipe you for standing still. Support Lysithea and Claude. Used range if you can’t get too close.”

- They both ran up and began doing as they were told. Byleth motioned the knights to move up, and he began making his way towards Leonie’s group.

- As strong as those three were, they couldn’t handle so many at the same time.

- He joined the fray, their combined effort pushing back the reinforcements. Byleth swung his sword into the air, clearing off the blood from it.

(Byleth) “Get those knights to follow you and begin enclosing around their leader, but do not engage. He’s strong, so if he starts charging you, retreat behind the knights.”

(Lorenz) “Understood!”

(Raphael) “Gotcha!”

(Leonie) “Got it, professor.”

- Byleth nodded and began helping the other four.

- They were starting to get overwhelmed. Claude and Lysithea were trying to help Hilda and Ignatz with the stronger bandits by picking them off, but they were barely able to hold their ground.

- Marianne was a little bit behind Hilda and Ignatz, not seeing a bandit sneaking up from behind.

(Byleth) “MARIANNE! BEHIND YOU-”

- Too late.

- The axe landed into her back, making her scream out in pain as she crumpled onto the floor, bleeding.

(Hilda) “MARIANNE!”

- Hilda kicked one of the bandits away as Knights came in, and brutally stabbed the bandit to death before filling in the lines and keeping Marianne surrounded.

(Knight Captain) “Damn it…She’s gone…”

- He stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide.

- Someone as gentle as Marianne was brutally murdered as if she were just another soldier.

- At that moment, he felt his hands clench. 

(Byleth) “Sothis, I’m activating it!”

(Sothis) “Go ahead, this is exactly why I gave you this power, after all.”

(Byleth) “DIVINE PULSE!”

- Everything halted in place, until he saw everything rewind to how it was about a minute earlier. Luckily Byleth was still in the same place.

(Sothis) “Time has begun moving again, child.”

- He managed to rush ahead, shouting to Claude behind him.

(Byleth) “Bandit’s trying to flank Marianne, keep her safe!”

(Claude) “Got it, teach!”

- He immediately shifted his attention to Marianne, and saw a bandit trying to sneak up on her. Claude let loose an arrow as it went straight through his head, making him drop dead on the spot.

- Marianne gasped in shock, before Byleth got in front of her, pointing backwards.

(Byleth) “Marianne, get back! You’re going to get hurt if you stay here!”

(Marianne) “B-But…!”

(Byleth) “I did not stutter, this is for your safety!”

- A bandit ran up to him and managed to get a swipe on his arm, but luckily it didn’t do much. The armor he was wearing underneath caught him off guard.

- All Byleth got was most likely a bruise from the attack. Meanwhile the bandit got a nice sword into his mouth from his counterattack.

- Marianne was already retreating behind Claude, and started casting spells alongside the two.

Byleth took a slight sigh of relief while he fought with Ignatz and Hilda.

(Byleth) “Good…she’s safe. Thanks, Sothis.”

(Sothis) “Shush, thank me later! Focus on the fighting.”

- Good point.

After the Battle…

- Everyone was quite exhausted, their first battle was dangerous but very educational. It seems most of them had gotten over the fact they had to kill today. Well, at least for now.

- As Byleth walked with knights in the front and rear, he and his students were in the middle and began the march back to the Monastery. 

- While he was walking, he heard someone clear their throat.

(Marianne) “P-Professor?”

(Byleth) “Marianne.”

(Marianne) “T-Thank you for saving me but…You honestly shouldn’t have.”

(Byleth) “Excuse me?”

(Marianne) “I..I’m sorry for putting you in danger. I’m not worth the protection like the ot-”

(Byleth) “Do not finish that sentence. You’re my student. All of you are people I care for.”

- Marianne looked like she was about to protest more until Hilda put her hands on her shoulder, making her sigh.

(Marianne) “Sorry. Thank you professor.”

(Byleth) “Of course. One last thing, Marianne. Don’t ever say something stupid like how you’re not worth saving again.”

- Byleth clenched the sword hard, memories of villages being slaughtered, and survivors saying the same thing came back.

- Though, the image of Marianne’s corpse with her eyes so wide open, clearly in pain, was going to stick with him for a very long time.

(Sothis) “Try not to let it bother you. You saved her after all.”

(Byleth) “Hmph.”

- He walked ahead of the class, trying to keep his mind off of it while Claude looked at his face.

- His tiny professor wasn’t emoting, as usual but…It clearly looked hurt by what she had said…Though, it’d be more accurate to say what he’s seen.

(Claude) “Is everything alright, professor?”

(Byleth) “…Just some bad thoughts is all…Nothing more than thoughts…”

[malereader-inserts]

The Poem of a Dead Man

Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Riverdale & Male!Reader Summary: A psychopath, a dead man, they’re all the same to you because they only way you’re being stopped is a bullet through your head. Word Count: 2,391 Warning: Major death, multiple deaths, blood, gore. A/n: Part two of “The Art of a Psychopath”

Flyers of you roamed around Riverdale. 

Due to the corrupted system of the police of FP Jones had lead you to flee Riverdale. WIthout a trace, without a trial. You laugh in mockery.

Flyers of you roamed beyond the little town called Riverdale.

Riverdale. The town with pep.

The town was recovering after the three-month period of mass murders, and there was no trace of you, no whereabouts of you. Almost as if you hadn’t existed, your name was no longer branded in the school register or in the list that was proudly presented around the school as one of the top achievers.

When your parents been asked, they would look confused and claimed that they never had a son called (Y/n), and when told that you were a psychopath they would be offended because they wouldn’t raise a child to be a killer. But, there were pieces of evidence of scarring around their head.

Your younger siblings? Afraid to talk about you, claiming they never had a sibling. You were virtually no one. No medical records to obtain from the hospital, your record of any crimes were gone. 

Now, the band of very close friends ever wondered if they just imagine it. 

But, they couldn’t because eight of them and their parents couldn’t have imagined the same thing. 

The town was quiet, the farm had disbanded and Alice was recovering from the farm, gaining a lot of support from Betty and FP. Kevin was quick to reunite with Betty, often going out to Pop’s whilst Kevin and her gush about old things. Jughead was still plotting against his mother but this time having the support of his dad.

Hiram and Hermione had fully split, but Veronica has quickly adapted to the new custom - though disliking it. Tom and Sierra were happily in love whilst surprisingly Penelope and Cheryl are trying to mend their relationship.

Archie was thriving with his music and sports, Josie being his number one fan whilst Reggie and Veronica are figuring things out. Life at Riverdale, the town of pep, seemed too good. 

“I need some kind of miracle to run my mom out of Riverdale,” Jughead sighs, as Betty rubbing his arm as Veronica looked sympathetic.

“I know, we’ll find a way,” Betty comforted.

“We always do,” Archie confirmed, offering his best bud a smile.

But, you know what they say?

Be careful what you wish for.

“Jughead?”

He stands there frozen, the house that once belonged to his girlfriend now his family has been trashed. Specifically warned, marked. Archie had driven the four of them back to Jughead’s house. The four of them had been joking around until they had got out of the car.

It was Jughead who noticed first, his eyes widen as his blood run cold. His whole world was collapsing, his head was spinning.

He wanted his mother gone, but not dead.

“I called the police,” Veronica shakily spoke behind Jughead.

He couldn’t move even if he could feel Betty grip his arm even harder. The core four stared at the house, not moving, too shocked and well aware not to tamper with evidence. Sirens could be heard in the far distance, coming closer and closers.

“I have to check on my dad!” Archie suddenly exclaimed, remembering how he lived next to Jughead, but before he could Fred had already seen his son standing outside.

Fred was quick to exit his home in confusion until he saw red liquid drop from the second floor. He makes his way to Archie, who wore a relieved expression, gripping his dad into a tight hug. 

“Did you see anything, dad?”

“No, I didn’t hear anything of the sorts, didn’t see anything either,” Fred explains as two police cars pulled up.

FP exiting his car as his eyes are drawn to the graffiti art on his home. His next attention was his beanie wearing son, safe. Having a hard grip on his boy’s shoulder, he draws him for a hug, before looking to his home. 

His heart is crushed, he is disgusted. 

Gladys Jones dead body was hanging out a smashed window, her throat slit.

Jellybean Jones strung up with a noose around her neck, swinging to the direction of the wind.

The red liquid was Gladys’ blood and was used for writing. Sending chills down everyone’s spine as the press was quick to report the new murder, capturing the new message that would send Riverdale into a state of panic.

“I’m back!”

“How do we know that is (Y/n)?” Betty asked, “Hard to recognise his writing since I haven’t seen it for almost four months.”

Betty had looked at Jughead, who was still processing that his little sister had been killed, with you being one of the possible suspects. You’ve been gone for four months, four months since they last saw you in the school gym playing a dangerous game.

And when the last of your memory started to fade away, you came back to haunt the town. 

“No one has seen him in town,” Jughead mentions.”

“Could be possible that someone else is doing it for him,” Veronica proposed as she sipped her drink, timidly, “He doesn’t want himself to get caught.”

It was a smart idea, which is why you like Veronica and Jughead a lot, most of the time they were leaders of schemes. You liked using their own plan against themselves. 

But, you always liked getting your hands dirty, you had power in the town, a power that Hiram longed for, a power that FP tried to obtain, a power that Sierra hoped for. A young teenage boy capable of doing the dirtiest of filth. You were insane, and you got away with a lot of things.

“Look, we better get to class soon,” Archie spoke before there was static from the school’s tv. Almost simultaneously, all the TV’s switched on, every single person in Riverdale was witnessing the same thing.

FP watched with his men at the police station. 

Hermione in the mayor office.

Fred in his construction works.

They saw you, smiling at the camera, waving a knife and it was bloody. Your eyes scream insane. Your smile suddenly wiped away and your lips thinned.

“Riverdale,” Your tone was cold, sent shivers down anyone spine, “Did you miss me because I certainly missed you.”

You started to chuckle then it became hysterical laughter, everyone jumped out of their skins when you slammed your fist against the desk. Veronica could tell the settings, that was Hiram's art portrait behind you.

“That’s right, Veronica,” You seemingly knew her thoughts, “How’s daddykins? Don’t you worry yourself, he’s fine...for now,” Your voice lowers near the end, before smugly smirking towards the camera, licking your lips, “You know what want? It’s time to give this town of pep the boost it needs. Time to stop taking ourselves so seriously. I mean, come on, Riverdale. What do you have to lose? Except your sanity.”

You chuckled, you stuck the knife down at the desk as you abruptly stood up. Your dead cold eyes burned through the television as everyone seems to be frozen in their spot, afraid to move.

“You know what they say, we all could go insane with just one bad day,” You continued, “You know what happened on my bad day?” You leaned over the desk with every word you spoke after, “People just kept... pushing.”

You turn on your heels as whipped out a red spray paint, shaking it vigorously and standing on the seat you once occupied and spray paint over painted Hiram. 

Deadman

You threw the can to the side as you stepped onto the desk and jumped down, facing the camera. 

“I’m more than a man, I’m an idea; a philosophy, and I will live on in the shadows within Riverdale’s discontent. You’ll be seeing me soon. Au revoir!”

And so the screen turned black.

14 was your current death count, as much as you would like to claim the Black Hood’s killings, you couldn’t. You often visited Hal in prison, all in his glory, you were curious you see. You couldn’t take credit for the gargoyle king’s kills either, though you found those a little distasteful. 

Murdering irrelevant people? It bores you.

Pop’s for example, was exciting, a kind man who wouldn’t hurt a fly just murdered in cold heart. 

Hal gave you excellent ideas, what to do, but some of them burnt you out. So, the last time you exited his visiting hold, the police hadn’t realised a gun in Hal’s hand and your order to shoot himself.

Your reason?

His ideas can’t be spread around, and so the floor stained red, his glass protection splatter with his blood.

You left chuckling, you left with a vision. 

You wanted to release the prisoners, but then you thought too much about how they either worked for Hiram or in cahoots with the Serpents, finding followers to do you mad scheming was harder than you expected and yet you did everything alone.

“They call me a dead man, you know why?” Your tone was like a snake, slither, a hiss in Jughead ear as you sat in the booth behind him a knife pressed against his neck.

“Because-”

“Because they’re watching me! I could be killed at any moment and yet I see no bullets in me,” you interrupted, “I do enjoy an audience, but never witnesses. Shame I liked Pop’s.”

You clicked your tongue as Jughead registered what you have spoken, whipping a revolver from your tucked shirt and shooting Pop. Jughead watched in horror, unable to move as your left hand was still occupied with the knife against his neck.

“What did they use to call this place?” You hummed, before a eureka moment came to your head, “Ah! Yes! Death Diner,” you looked at the people sitting there watching your movements.

Jughead watched you grin, as you allowed your bullets to do the talking. Left satisfied as you remove the knife away from Jughead. Tucking the gun away back into your pants, as you jumped into the aisle. Jumping onto the counters as you pointed to Jughead.

“I do love a good show,” You announced, “20 people, Jughead, and they just keep going up n up n up.”

“You vile bastard-”

“I know!” You jumped down, “Who should I target next? Unfortunately, there is nothing else I can take away from you to torture you even further. Do, you think Veronica would appreciate her mom’s head in a gift box?”

Jughead watch you stride towards the door, before changing your mind.

“I am truly spoilt for choice, and like I said, I hate witnesses.”

Jughead was met with your knife, a stab to his gut as you could hear him choking into your ear.

“I do hope you survive Jughead, I couldn’t imagine what your dad would do after losing his little girl.”

Merrily escaping your way to never be found again. Jughead recovering in the hospital, FP was stress to the max. Teaming up with Tom and Hiram in any attempts to stop you.

It seems almost impossible to find a seventeen, near eighteen, year old boy terrorising a while town.

They couldn’t believe their ears to the next murder after Pop’s Diner. Cheryl’s beloved. A gift box painted red, with a small printed card on top:

“A heart for a cold-hearted bitch.”

A heart was presented in the red gift box as Cheryl screamed, oh and did she scream, she screamed for the death of a lover.

Toni Topaz was no longer around.

And on her trailer marked 21.

“Can you hear that?”

Josie gulped in fear as she sat in her kitchen dining table across Kevin. They were both terrified as you sat in between, your eyes flickering between the two. 

“That’s the screams of anguish,” You muttered, “Joyful, isn’t it?”

“Why are you doing this?” Kevin asked as you shrugged your shoulder, you were free of weapons as you lean your wrist back, opening.

“Boredom? I mean feel free to walk out, I’m not holding you captive.” 

“If one of us move, you’ll kill us,” Josie spoke afterwards, her hands gripping the table as you turn your head slowly to face her, your eyes narrowing.

“If you attack me, yes, now go get me coffee. Black, two sugars.” You waved her off as she scrapes her chair back.

You turned to look at Kevin, leaning your elbows on the table as you rest your chin on your hands. A pretty little smile on your face as you flutter your eyes towards him.

“So, boys,” You teases, “You seemed cursed, anyone you get with either gets killed or runs out of your life - tragic.”

Kevin glares at you as his eyes flicker up to Josie, his eyes widen to find her with a switch knife in her hand and scalding hot coffee in the other. Feeling another presence behind you, you smile as you straighten your back.

“Thank you, darlin- argh!” You turned around as you were faced with the hot liquid to your eyes.

You fall back off your chair, as you could hear the scraping of movements, you opened your eyes. Anger had taken over you, grabbing a nearby chair you threw it to Josie, as you stood up, landing a right hook to Kevin.

Next thing you’re fighting with Kevin and Josie, two weakest people. And yet you seemed to be overpowered by the two of them. You had managed to roughen the two of them a big deal, but whilst you were preoccupied with smashing Kevin’s face in, his pretty face was no longer but mushed with blood.

You hadn’t heard the flicker of the switchblade opening behind you as Josie stuck in in the side of your neck.

“Argh!”

You stumble yourself off, Kevin, your back colliding to the wall as your hand flew to the stab wound. The blood was flowing out as you could feel it trickle down your neck, down your collar, down your sleeves. 

You started to cough out blood, and yet the coughing became chuckles. As you slide down the wall, staining it in the process. These chuckles became hysterical laughter, spitting blood as your eyes widen in insanity.

“Oh, you should have put a bullet through my head.”

[one-shots-blog]

Falling

A/N: Some lyrics of Harry Styles song, Falling. I do not own anything. I might have spelled their last name wrong. 

There was an unsettling silence within the Mikaelsons' home with just the quiet sound of the burning wood from deep in the house. Kol was the only one in the house, moping as he remembers what day it was. Her birthday. 

He was sitting on the bed, drink in hand as he stared at the fire, the worst memory popping into his mind. 

I'm in my bed

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left

(Y/N) stared at Kol with so many emotions passing through her face. Shock. Jealousy. Sadness. Anger. Hurt. Her mind was filled with a circle of thoughts over and over again, never stopping. Countless excuses created reasons for why he did what he did. 

"Why, Kol? Just tell me why?" She asked, needing the answer before she decided what to do. Kol stared at her emotionless, having to flip the switch of his humanity. 

"I was bored of you. I never did love you, you know? You were just a plaything till I discarded you. I was there, and she joined me. She was interesting because she was a witch. She caught my attention, and I wanted her. I wanted her in more ways than I ever wanted you."

(Y/N) couldn't believe what she heard from his mouth, he was confessing he was bored of her. She nods her head, taking in his negative comments, knowing this would have happened someday, but hopped it would have been never. "I see Kol. I thought we were endgame, but I guess not. I hope she makes you happy Kol." she whispers, placing a hand on his left cheek. She leans up, pressing her lips against his in a soft kiss, putting all of her pain in it. She was in agony, but would not let him know as she pulls away from him. Walking away without looking back, she goes to their room, his room now. She packs everything of hers, sobbing quietly, hoping no one else was home. She gets her stuff in the car before driving away from the compound, thinking about where she can go. Her phone rings, but she does not answer. She did not want to face anyone until she was ready whenever that would be. She was making her way to the airport, thinking about going to London. 

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

Kol throws his glass at the wall, not flinching when it smashes into million pieces. Tears begin to slide down his smooth cheeks until his vision blurs to fuzziness before the next memory overtakes him. 

What am I now?

What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

Kol wanted to learn more about what he missed. He made his way to the Grill, wondering if he could find a quick snack to help fulfill his thirst for blood. He entered the building, smelling a delicious scent that made him growl in hunger but stopped before someone noticed. His eyes trail over the place, looking for the person with the sweet scent. His eyes meet with (e/c) orbs that shined with curiosity and something he could not identify.  He makes his way to the bar, ordering a drink before sipping the bourbon. His eyes would trail off to see the teen with her friends, hearing them talk about him and his family. 

" Who is that?" A soft, velvety, voice asked, glancing at the mysterious man at the bar. Her heart was speeding up, and she hoped; he could not hear it but recognizing, he was a vampire, it was unlikely. 

"No. Don't even think about it, (Y/N). He is Klaus's and Elijah's brother," Elena said, worried about her friend getting in danger by talking to him. 

"Geez, Elena, I just asked who he was. It's not like I am going to jump his bones then marry him. I do have standards. Anyway, I would go for Elijah because he is hot" (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes at Elena's weariness of the man. 

Caroline lets out a squeal, while Bonnie and Elena gasp, looking at their friend with wide eyes. " Oh, come on. You can not deny he is attractive in his suit and tie. Every Mikaelsons are attractive, must be something in the genes. " She shrugs, not caring how her friends are reacting to her as if she was crazy.  

" They are murderers (Y/N)," Elena said as if it was clear to stay away. 

" Really? Want to give me that bull?" (Y/N) asked, looking between her friends. She was getting annoyed because they were acting as if they were innocent themselves. " What about Stefan? Damon? Caroline, when she first turns? Tyler? Viki? They killed people as well. Does that not make them monsters? Elena, we are all monsters. We are all carless and cruel in the end. You may choose to ignore it, but one day you will realize you are a monster yourself." She told them before getting up and making her way towards the man. 

"Hi, I'm (Y/N). Do you want to go do something?" She asked, tilting her head, smiling brightly at him. Kol smirks, settling his glass down, licking his lower lip. " I am a Kol. Kol Mikaelson. I would love to, Love. Where shall we go?"  He asked, holding out his hand for hers. They make their way to the door, passing her friends that stared at them. 

"Anywhere."

" I do have to warn you, I'm someone no one wants you around," he said, " even me," he whispers. 

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

Kol was drowning in his sorrows, never wanting to do anything but reflect on his wrongdoings. He hated himself for running the besting thing that ever happened to him. He realized too late she was the one for him. 

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

Kol stood on the stairs, looking out for (Y/N), hoping she would accept his invitation to the ball. His breath hitched when he saw her in the dress he gave to her. She was wearing a strapless, floor-length dress that hugged her figure perfectly, little gems embedded on the top following flowers around her waist.  

He smirked when he saw jealousy in other girls' eyes as they glare at (Y/N). He knew she was above all the other girls and was perfection. He strolls his way towards her, offering his arm as he makes eye contact with his brother, Elijah. 

"You look lovely, darling. " He whispers in her ear, smiling when he noticed her shiver. 

She smiles at him, linking her arm through his, strolling around the room in amazement. " I know, Elijah told me. Why did you give me this dress to wear?"

Kol bites down the growl he wanted to make as he smiles fakely, not liking she brought up his brother in his presence. His grip loosens around her arm, uncertain flickering through his eyes before he has that playfulness back, not liking to be self-doubting. 

" Well, then... I should have told you earlier. I am sorry, darling.  I gave you the dress because I knew you would look breathtaking in it. The dress is special because it once belonged to a princess, someone no human would know. 

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

Kol picked up a picture of his past love, smiling wistfully. His finger caresses the outline of her lips before moving to her cheeks. She was very similar to (Y/N) and that was the reason he was drawn to her in the first place. 

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

Kol was waking up, yearning for blood to help cool his burning throat. He was furious at Klaus for dragging him once again. He only wanted to stay with Delilah, his love. However, the opportunity to stay with her was ripped away from him by his brother. Sadness and heartbreak enveloped him as realization dawns on him the fact Deliah might not be alive. The dark thought was eating at him as he opens the coffin, anger rushing through him, replacing the sadness. Revenge, it was all he wanted as he glances at the other coffins with his family members before removing the daggers. He was getting ready to hurt Klus for taking him away from Deliah for however long it was. 

Kol hears Elijah talking to Klaus with another vampire, Kol had no idea who it was. He makes his way to the noise, knowing his other sibling will wake up soon. He walks out all confident, enjoying the hint of fear on Klaus's face. "Hello, brother. Long time no see, missed me?" Kol asked as he vamps to Klaus, eyebrows furrowed in anger. He then stabs Klaus in his hand before throwing him at the wall. "What happened to Delilah? You better tell me the truth or else I will break every bone in your body over and over again, till I am bored," Kol said, menacing. 

" She left, brother. I don't know what happened to her, I swear. "

"Your lying!" Kol yelled, not believing him for a second, breaking Klaus's arm. Elijah pulls him away, and this makes Kol angrier, leading him to storm off. He suddenly caught a familiar smell making him search for the source. He stops outside a window and smiles when he saw Deliah.

 He forces to hear what is going on with Deliah and the three other girls. 

" I want to see you at cheerleadering  practice, (Y/N), " the blonde said. 

The girl with (h/c) and (e/c) stays silent, looking out the window as if knowing she is being watched. "Bonne, I swear I want you to be there too. Elena, you can come and watch if you want."

"I'm good, Care. I have something to take care of tomorrow. "Elena said, trying to come up with a reason as to why she could not come to the practice even though she is not on the team. 

"(Y/N), whatever happened to Alec?" Bonnie asked, hoping to change the topic. The question bring the said girl out of her thoughts as she turns to look at her three friends. 

"We broke up. Well, I dumped him because I knew he was not the one. I want someone to sweep me off my feet, romance me with little gifts, and make me feel special. I want one of those 1920s romances," she said, dreamily sighing, knowing it was just in the movies. 

Kol did not understand what was going on. This was not Deliah that he knew. This was a different girl that had the same voice, face, and body as the girl he loves. However, this did not stop him from wanting to know her. He wanted to get close to her, and learn everything there was about her. He would meet with her soon and pretend that he has no idea who she is. 

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

Kol checks up on (Y/N) to make sure she is taking care of herself. He would watch over her as the years passed until it seemed like she moved on. He would see her with another man, and that broke his heart, but he did not have a right to voice his opinion. He would leave when he saw she was getting married. He would leave Mystic Falls to join his family in New Orleans, but not without saying goodbye. He had a present for her in his pocket, wanting to explain everything to her. it was a Ruby Heart Ring with Diamond Accents he had engraved. Entering the home to see blood splattered all over. 

To Be Continued? 

[hajimesh]

lokasenna pt. 11

word count: 1.8k

pairing: jötunn!loki x healer!reader

summary: loki’s awake and you update him about what he missed. i suck at summaries it’s basically loki x reader interacting?? sORRY

a/n: dedicated to @oatballsoffury since i saw you binge read lokasenna last night lol, i loved your comments btw!! this is a bit of a filler sooo i’m sorry if it’s a bit boring. masterlist is in my bio

- Ellefu -

“Sorry for interrupting your fun.” A hoarse voice said, catching all of you by surprise. “But I kind of feel like I’m in dire need of a bath.”

Loki tried to move but groaned, making your arms fly forward as if to stop him.

“Loki! I mean– King Loki, how are you feeling? Are you in pain?” You rushed through your words, still not believing your eyes.

He finally decided to look at you and what he saw made his heart drop. The cut on your cheek looked better but the skin on your left eye had a purple tint while another bruise could be seen on your forehead, same colour as the one in your eye.

“What happened to you?” His tone sounded worried and his brows were drawn closer, a hand hesitatingly reaching out to touch the tender area gently.

You winced a bit but smiled at him reassuringly. “A giant broke into my room.”

His eyes widened considerably before hardening. “Who was he? And where were you!?” He got agitated, his last question directed at Ægir but before the later could answer, he continued speaking. “Where else did he hurt you?”

“I’m good, nothing serious. It’s you who you should be concerned about. You– you almost didn’t make it.” You reassured him about your state but when you told him about his, your voice broke slightly.

He gave you a weird look, thoroughly confused by your statement. He knew he had received a few hits and stabs and he remembered the energy fading away from him, giving in to the darkness but that was it, right? “It was just a stab.”

“Yes, but the dagger was poisoned.”

Loki remained silent, looking at the sheets while both Ægir and Viðblindi sat in silence knowing it was best to not say anything and let him talk to you.

What Loki didn’t know was that you had a few more wounds than the ones in your face. You had broken a rib so, eventually, you grew tired of standing and chose to sit on his bed still looking at him. “They haven’t found the ones responsible for the attack.”

Loki finally lifted his eyes from the bed, meeting your worried eyes. “It was the Storm Giants. Even a fool could notice.” He said in a flat tone, rolling his eyes slightly.

You tried not to dwell on the not-so-kind adjective he chose, perhaps he didn’t mean it for you and was referring to the jötnar? “But the council–”

“The council wants me dead.” He interrupted you, earning a soft gasp from you. He sighed, rubbing his temples before continuing. “So of course they would turn a blind eye on them.”

You knew the jötnar were not the kindest creatures but you couldn’t believe there would be some of them willing to not only let the criminals get away with the almost murder of the King, but to actually try to kill him. “But that’s regicide! Punishable by death, there must be something you could do.”

Loki gave you a sad smile and his hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was touched, he really was. He didn’t think that after what you had gone through, thanks to him, you’d still worry about his well-being. “This is Utgard, my dear. I’m afraid things don’t work the same as Asgard.”

You tried to ignore the strange fluttering in your chest and focused on Loki’s words. Now you knew you could not trust anyone, not like you hadn’t deduced it before but now you could say you were one hundred percent sure, at least if you wanted to survive.

“How long have I been gone?” Loki asked after a few minutes of silence.

Viðblindi cleared his throat before answering him. “Three days, your grace.”

Loki’s eyebrows rose in surprise but then made an unpleased face. He turned his head to you and stared as you played with the fabric of your coat. The days seemed to get colder and you needed the extra layers if you didn’t want to freeze to death. When he failed to catch your attention, he tried to scoot closer to you but forgot about his wound, hurting himself in the process.

You heard him moan in pain and you snapped out of your daze, eyes wide and frantic.

“Don’t move!” Again, you reprimanded him as he huffed.

“I want a bath.” He pouted and King Loki was gone, being replaced by the image of the little boy you used to play with; arms crossed and a bored face.

You rolled your eyes but nodded. Ægir and Viðblindi excused themselves not before offering their help which was quickly dismissed by Loki.

Oh, sweet Valhalla.

*     *     *     *

“I see you are still in speaking terms with him.”

Getting Loki in the bathtub was almost impossible. After the initial shock of seeing his bare chest went away, you spent fifteen minutes making sure the water temperature was right. When he noticed the tell-tale signs of you about to go off at him, he gave you a sickly sweet smile and got in.

You lifted your eyes from your book as you heard him speak but you regretted it immediately, being met with the sight of his bare torso as he ran his wet hair away from his face.

“Huh? Oh, of course I am. He’s my friend.” You said as you switched your eyes back to your book, a blush growing on your cheeks.

He made a disgusted face not noticing your flushed state. “You deserve better friends.”

“Oh, is that so?” At this you finally put your book down on your lap, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes. Like me.”

His tone was playful but you felt the anger swirling in your belly again. You narrowed your eyes and closed the book loudly, making him jump slightly. “A friend who won’t stand up for me when needed. I think not.”

Your tone was bitter and he winced, looking down at his hands and playing with the bubbles.

“Y/N…”

Shaking your head you stood up from the chair you were sitting in and made your way to the door, only to be stopped by him.

“Y/N!”

You stopped walking, shoulders tense as the anger in your body grew. Turning on your heel you looked at him straight in the eye with your arms crossed. Loki stood up from the tub but before you could see something you shouldn’t he conjured a towel to wrap around his hips, making his way towards you.

“I talked to her. After what she did.” His steps were slow and hesitant as he raised his arms, signaling he meant no harm. “I could not reprimand her because whether we like it or not, she’s a princess. You can’t talk to her in that way.”

You scoffed, he had to be joking. “Unbelievable.” You muttered under your breath but he still managed to hear you.

You were ready to head out of the door when he placed his hands on your wrists, stopping you immediately.

“You must understand! Be glad that she didn’t ask for your head.”

The anger in your body snapped, a fire burning in your eyes. Something he had never seen before.

“She called me your pet!” You finally exploded, yelling at his face what had been bugging you for the last two days. “She hinted that I was a source of entertainment for you, of pleasure, if you will.”

You kept wondering where did she get that idea and if everyone else in the castle thought the same. Your entire’s life work diminished because of blind hate. You couldn’t feel more helpless.

“W-what?” Loki whispered, his voice shaky and filled with disbelief. “I did not know that.”

“Of course you didn’t.” You crossed your arms over your chest after he let go of your wrists, surprised by what you had just said.

One look at your eyes and he knew he had screwed up. You were hurting and he couldn’t help but think that sending you back to Asgard, back to safety, would be wise. But his selfish side stopped him from letting go of you, he enjoyed your presence, you didn’t know but he truly felt like a piece of home was with him every time you were around.

“I don’t know where she got that idea but you must know it wasn’t me.”

Raising an eyebrow you kept your gaze on his. He looked sorry, worry lines appearing on his forehead and around his eyes. You knew, in your gut, that he didn’t mean to hurt you but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling of wanting him to prove you he cared. Something in your heart wanted more and yet you couldn’t pin point what exactly. For both of your sakes you chose to let it slip and turned your head away.

“Please don’t leave.” Loki whispered, hands reaching out to you but stopping right before he could meet your skin.

The hopeful look in his eyes tugged at your heart and you groaned inwardly.

“I’ll make tea.”

*     *     *     *

Loki was back on his bed and you sat on a chair, reading your book.

You had considerably cooled off after the heated argument back in the bathroom. After making tea, you chose to sit on the far corner of the room, book in your hands, as you kept looking over him. No matter how angry and upset you were at him, he needed you.

You heard the doors open and you felt dread filling your body as you saw who it was.

“My King. You are awake.” Angrboda said in a relieved tone.

He only nodded at her but said nothing. His thoughts about her conflicted him, he wished he could confront her about what she had said to you but knew he couldn’t do that without putting you at risk.

Angrboda gave you a glance and her demeanor instantly changed.

“Leave.”

Raising an eyebrow, you closed your book with a sigh before speaking. “I beg your pardon?”

She narrowed her eyes, her hands slowly balling into fists.

It seemed as if she didn’t care that Loki was right next to her and would witness how she mistreated you.

“I won’t repeat myself.”

You looked at Loki, waiting for him to do or say something but he remained unbothered, looking down at his hands as he picked at them. You narrowed your eyes but said nothing, standing up from your place you moved the chair back to its place making sure it scraped the floor and made an annoying scratching sound.

Thank the norns for those Jötunn anatomy books that said their ears are more perceptive of very acute noises.

Angrboda whined as she covered her ears in an attempt to stop the noise, face scrunching up in distress. Once she removed her hands, small spots of blood littered on them and she growled at you while Loki, who had also suffered the pain, still managed to smile faintly at you knowing this was your way of revenge. He knew he was hurting you by not sending Angrboda away, it pained him too.

This was the only way but of course, you couldn’t know.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

help me with a reblog and/or feedback if u enjoyed it :)

lokasenna tag list: @perceptorxbrainstorm / @immakween / @ellaxiv / @pinkmoontribe-blog / @help-i-need-a-social-life / @jessiejunebug / @fire-treasure-iii

loki tag list: @slytherinsassembletofightsith / @memmucci​ / @servamp-addict​ / @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77​ / @theworld-is-ahead​ / @crescent-night​ / @godhateskyleigh​ / @deathofmissjackson

marvel tag list: @for-the-love-of-the-fandom

[philcmena-alt]

NATALIA DYER / DEMI GIRL — don’t look now, but is that philomena carmichael i see? the 19 year old wildlife science student is in their sophomore year and she is a rochester alum. i hear they can be whimsical, patient, apathetic and unpredictable, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet she will make a name for themselves living in garcia row. ( james. 20. est. she/they. )

like this to plot !!

TW CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION DISORDER ( ALT. MENTAL HEALTH ) / DEATH / DECAY / MAGGOTS / GROSS ??

a e s t h e t i c s

wildflowers in your hair and bare feet against moss, binoculars and maps, madonna beating out of half-dead speakers in a half-dead van, whipping wind, jumping off cliffs and rolling down hills, a bandaid wrapped around each finger, cryptic bumper stickers and cryptids in the woods, facing the sun and letting the rays hit you, counting stars late into the night, mismatched socks and lucky ribbons, hoarding a box of special treasures, shoplifting and diner-dashing, bleach against roots, pink sweaters paired with ripped fishnets and slip dresses with knock off uggs, willingly wearing crocs, glitter stickers.

general info !!

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, mena, etc.

b.o.d. - april 20th lmao !!

label(s): the amaranth, the halycon, the neophyte, the wanderer, etc. etc.

height: 5′4″

hometown: woodside, ca

sexuality: ??? $500 ebay mystery box. pansexual if you had to label it.

pinterest

stats

biography !!

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long.

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs.

she gets medication, and life is normal.

three years later and her parents want philly to have a higher education - desperate for it, really - worried for her future. it’s a battle that she loses, getting her GED and applying to a local college in a town halfway across the country.

staying rooted pains her - pains elektra, stuck in a midwest state for no good reason. by the summer before her sophomore year, philly deides to transfer to lockwood. elektra can travel up and down the eastern coast and philly goes too, sometimes, on the weekends. it’s a compromise that favors her parents’ wants above all.

school has caused philly’s disorder to flare up - a small rift in her day-to-day life even when she doesn’t realize it.

things were fine for a while - they have to be fine, because philly is always fine - because elektra is always fine, because they’re always fine and happy and content with their situation. but years of negligence had caught up with philly - and now she’s not quite sure what to do.

it began with a phone call from juno - angry juno, hurt juno - juno who has called every week for four years and has only gotten a handful of answers - and many, many handfuls of answering machines. juno who doesn’t understand why philly is like this - when she’s so hurt, all the time - when things are so much, all the time. the call ends with a reminder that they are the same - that they’ve experienced the same thing, the same thing that nobody else in their family had experienced.

juno, of course, refers to the dead body in the woods nine years ago.

to backtrack - philomena was ten and juno was thirteen when they had decided to go on a hike - a nearby trail that had been walked countless times, in a town they’ve always felt safe in. it should’ve been safe - it should’ve been fine. but philomena liked going off the trail, making her own - insisted on it, in fact. she was the one who skidded down the slope first, curiosity drawn to a dirty, fraying red scarf - but juno had been the one who had tripped and fallen, who had landed besides decaying flesh and maggots. philomena had seen the body first - but juno had touched it. juno had touched it.

after the police and the sirens and the years of therapy, juno had always wanted to talk about it - always wanted to address it, vent to the one person who would maybe, could maybe, understand. philly had already blocked it out of her mind.

back in present day - the phone call with juno had attracted elektra, who then in turn called juno and marched away, screaming match from across the country (supposedly). philly, always a little too curious, had only overheard parts of their argument. but she heard the one thing that left her bothered - a rare experience, and a sickening one. elektra had called her a child. just a kid, to be exact.

philly had stopped considering herself a child when she turned eighteen - and she certainly never thought she acted childish. confrontation led to a rift, and philomena determining that they needed time apart - that elektra should go, now, please. and she did. and philly was alone. no elektra, no florence - no more depending on her sister, just philly. alone.

a firm week before dean lockwood was murdered and the rochester students moved to huntington beach, philly had disappeared. run away, if you will. no driver’s license, just a handful of cash and her ‘pets’ set free. she’s just now reappeared, with a van she has no registration for parked outside of garcia row & in front of their new ‘dorm’.

personality !!

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon.

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been. she tries to be good while in rochester - would hate to make enemies whilst florence is getting repaired.

currently living in audax while elektra stays in their van, florence - sometimes philly stays there during the weekends.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first and only kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her.

will consume a n y t h i n g you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggles.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

wanted connections !!

random encounters - she’s new to rochester and doesn’t know many people - if anybody at all, so :-)

alternately, people she’s run into with elektra during their journey. whether they’ve stolen from them or stayed with them somewhere or just, ate dinner with them. anything.

someone whose couch / floor she’s crashed on after a night of whatever - a party, adventure, etc.

people she does jobs for !! people who commission her to make stuff for them. people who need a babysitter.

people who think she’s weird - and those who like it. or those who hate it. people who don’t understand her - people who do, in their own way.

someone trying to get closer to her but she keeps slipping out from between their fingers.

a parental / older sibling figure !! they take one look at philomena and instantly want to swaddle and protect her.

people who take an immediate liking to her. people who introduce her to the music scene. people who show her around town.

someone who catches her stealing or about to dine-n-dash.

late-night walking pals.

a dealer b/c weed ? a thing.

someone who gets into a debate with her about conspiracies or superstitions or anything !! someone who gets frustrated at her apathy.

somebody who just immediately distrusts her for whatever reason.

??? you don’t have a smartphone ??? cue someone trying to teach her how they work - and philly hating it !!

thrifting pals.

m a y b e a hook-up, eventually, but it’s questionable.

something unrequited, likely on their end b/c philly is … a hard egg to crack.

maybe something returned !! eventually. slowly. slow.

god … someone she just tells her entire life story to. like this meme.

i’m rly down to brainstorm and think of anything !!! dnt forget 2 leave a like :)

[hollyoaksloversx]

Goodbye, Myra...

Rounding up a week in Hollyoaks (25th-29th March 2019)

Hold the front page, for this week, a Mercedes McQueen wedding actually went off without a hitch! Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for her Mother, Myra, so sadly we’re still no closer to seeing a successful McQueen double wedding. At the start of the week, Liam was still causing trouble for Mercedes, but she finally stood up to him and told him she wouldn’t be threatened. Myra, on the other hand, had a serious case of pre-marital guilt, having shared a snog with Stevie Scaramouche a few weeks back. As everyone gathered at The Dog for the ceremony, Myra was having a meltdown in the toilets over the situation, but Nana and Scott convinced her to keep shutm, reasoning that what Sally didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. Unfortunately, once the trio had left, a heartbroken Sally emerged from one of the cubicles...

Mercedes and Sylver got married first, giving Sally plenty of time to question whether or not she was doing the right thing. When Sally and Myra’s turn came, a video message from John Paul was played, and it looked like Sally might just go through with it. However, Sally confronted Myra over her kiss and told her she couldn’t marry her. The following day, Sally made plans to leave the village, however, Myra shocked everyone by announcing that she would leave instead, pointing out that she was the reason that the wedding hadn’t gone ahead. Myra departed the village in spectacular fashion; riding off in a giant pumpkin to join Jacqui and Michaela in Alicante. One would hope that Myra wasn’t planning on travelling all the way to the airport in the pumpkin. That thing on the motorway is an accident waiting to happen. Future Hollyoaks stunt, maybe?

Meanwhile, Damon and Brody were busy preparing the Loveboat for the launch of whatever their latest business idea is and wannabe journalist, Yasmine, was on hand to interview the pair for her vlog. Of course, we know that it is Brody and Damon’s dream to open their own bar in New York, but this was news to Maxine and she was left devastated when Liberty showed her Yasmine’s vlog, in which the pair spoke about their future plans. Damon was soon distracted from his renovations when Maxine was rushed to hospital, once again experiencing some strange symptoms. At the hospital, Misbah was left baffled by Maxine’s symptoms, and arranged for a lumbar puncture to take place. However, Maxine did a runner before this could take place but told Damon this was going to be carried out at a later date. Back at the boat, Damon was in a right state over Maxine’s condition and worried that he wouldn’t be able to support her, pointing out that Maggie had kept her cancer a secret due to his inability to cope. Luckily, Brody was able to convince Damon otherwise, and Damon ended the week by inviting himself to move in with Maxine and Minnie...

Elsewhere, Romeo found himself in a tight spot as he faced questioning over Mac’s death. Luckily, the police were unable to find any concrete evidence of his involvement and he was released whilst investigations continued. Meanwhile, over at the school, Juliet was having a tough time coming to terms with her Father’s murder and Brother’s arrest, and barricaded herself in a classroom and threatened to burn the school down. Whilst Laurie, Sienna and Nancy flapped about trying and failing to deal with the situation, Brooke had a brainwave and knew just the person who could help; Darren. Luckily, Brooke’s instincts were correct and Hollyoaks High was saved from another fiery disaster. Juliet was delighted to find that Romeo had been released, however, she was left frustrated by the fact that no one wanted to talk about Mac. However, Juliet found an ally in Marnie, who shared some stories about Mac in his youth and told Juliet that she could always come to her if she wanted to remember her Father.

Also this week, Liam’s downward spiral continued and almost cost him his life when Joel found him having a drug induced seizure at The Loft. Joel rushed the wannabe gangster to hospital but was left alarmed when he heard Liam calling out for Eva in his sleep. With the support of Jesse, Liam acknowledged that he wasn’t over Eva and began to re-evaluate his life choices...

Finally, Sinead was seething with jealousy when she discovered that Laurie and Sienna were going on a school camping trip together. This information also came as news to Sienna, who had not yet been approached about the excursion, and was less than keen knowing that she would be going with Laurie. Sally also wasn’t impressed with the idea, given the history between the pair, but Laurie was quick to reassure her that they had put the kiss behind them and would be sleeping in separate tents anyway. However, Laurie was later seen ripping up one of the tents...

5 Things we Learned This Week:

1. Sun is more important than family. We’ve heard all manner of excuses over the years as to why absent family members can’t make weddings and other such events but this has to be one of the worst, given by Jacqui and Michaela McQueen this week. What happened to a good old fashioned tummy bug preventing a character from boarding the plane?! At least pretend you want to come, guys!

2. Moving to Hollyoaks sucks, and Juliet’s just realised it. Juliet’s only lived in the village for a couple of months but has already had to endure more trauma than most people do in a lifetime. She met her long lost Father, then discovered he was a bit of a bastard, had to deal with her Brother being arrested for her Father’s murder and now she’s sharing a house with Cindy and Marnie. Poor kid, especially when you consider that her life prior to Hollyoaks was nothing to write home about...

3. Myra McQueen exists purely to be given bizarre exits. Remember her first goodbye back in 2013? She was seemingly shot dead by Doctor Browning into a body of water only to turn up alive and well at the airport a couple of days later. This time, she’s heading off for a new life in a horse drawn pumpkin.  I fully expect her to be abducted by aliens next time she departs the village!

4. Grief is a funny old thing. Liam had only known Eva for a few months when she died, yet he’s spent the last two years in a deep depression over her death. He’s actually been grieving for her for far longer that he knew her. On the other hand, other characters move on from the death of a loved one at break-neck speed. Remember Carmel kissing Sonny in the cemetery when poor Jim’s grave hadn’t yet been filled in?

5. Breda’s the gift that keeps on giving. What does every son want from his Mother as a wedding present? That’s right, for her to move in with him and his new wife! Oh, Breda, why would you think this was a good idea? And it’s surely just going to give Mercedes even more reason to ignore poor Max and Bobby!

Doreen Watch:

It was nice and unexpected to get a little update on how Doreen’s doing since the death of the legendary DS Thorpe. She’s got herself a nice little job on the switch board at Minnie Cabs and her biscuits are far more tempting than Damon’s knickerbocker glory. 

Characters Featured:

Bobby, Breda, Brody, Brooke, Carmina, Cindy, Cleo, Courtney, Damon, Darren, DS Yates, Goldie, Grace, Jack, James, Jesse, Joel, John Paul, Juliet, Laurie, Liam, Liberty, Marnie, Max, Maxine, Mercedes, Minnie, Misbah, Mitchell, Myra, Nana McQueen, Nancy, Prince, Sally, Sami, Scott, Sienna, Sinead, Sylver, Tony and Yasmine.

Past Characters Mentioned:

Dr Paul Browning, Pete Buchanan, Riley Costello, Adam Donovan, Glenn Donovan, Eva Falco, Maggie Kinsella, Jacqui McQueen, Matthew McQueen, Michaela McQueen, Reenie McQueen, Mac Nightingale, Russ Owen, Joe Roscoe.

[creative-type]

The Murder of Arthur Wright XV

First Previous AO3

Chapter Fifteen: The Life and Death of Abigail Wright

The tension was thick and heavy. A thousand questions tumbled in Margot’s mind, but it seemed that her brain had been disconnected from her mouth, and she could speak none of them. Dash was the same. More than once he opened his mouth speak, or raised a finger as if to point, or moved to replace his hat on his head. He did none of those things, and finally settled in a limp, disbelieving stance.

Desdemona had not moved, keeping her head buried in her hands, deliberately not looking at her twin. After a long, drawn out silence Abigail took the seat next to her.

“Don’t you dare,” Desdemona said. “Don’t you dare say that everything will be all right.”

Abigail drew back, hurt flashing across her face. “I don’t know if it will or not. But, Dessy, it needed to be done.” She swallowed hard, and said very quietly, “It was my decision to make.”

Desdemona’s head snapped up at that, defiance burning in her eyes. For a moment they were in their own world, sharing an entire conversation without words. Slowly the anger left Desdemona, and she rose to her feet.

“I assume you have questions,” she said, rubbing her forehead.

“A few,” Dash said.

“Abby had nothing to do with my father’s death, and neither did I,” Desdemona said fiercely. “He thought she was dead, for heaven’s sake!”

Abigail flinched.

“Yeah, that’s going to take a bit of explaining,” Dash said. “And I think it’d be better to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

“Abigail owes you nothing, Mr. Cain,” Desdemona said, moving to shield her sister from view. “And you still aren’t welcome here. Neither of you are.”

“Dessy, stop,” Abigail said. “This isn’t helping. Father’s dead, and they have every reason to suspect it was one of us. If we tell them the truth…”

“That’s no guarantee that they’ll believe us,” Desdemona snapped. “Do what you want, Abigail, but I refuse to get involved.”

“If you didn’t want to be involved you wouldn’t have given Anansi that poem,” Abigail said quietly.

Desdemona recoiled as if she’d been slapped, her face going from shocked to angry to defensive in seconds. “That’s a low blow, coming from you.” She blinked rapidly as if trying not to cry. “After all he’s done…I’m sorry, Abby, but I can’t. I just…can’t.”

“Which is why I must.”

“Of course it is,” Desdemona said, defeated. “Tell them what you want. I’ll have no part of it.” Wiping her eyes angrily she pushed past Dash and rushed out of the apartment.

“Someone should go after her,” Dash said, mouth turned down in worry. “You stay with this one, Prof. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

He hurried to follow Desdemona, pausing only to whisper in Margot’s hear, “Soft touch, Professor.”

“I know,” Margot murmured, but he was already gone, leaving her alone with Abigail Wright.

At a glance, she looked even more like her mother than Desdemona. Abigail was the only of the Wright children to inherit Adeline’s grey eyes and dark, chestnut hair. But unlike Desdemona she carried none of her mother’s confidence, fire, or natural charm. Abigail had the pale complexion of someone who spent too much time indoors and dark rings under her eyes that gave her a look of perpetual exhaustion. Her clothes were made of muted colors, her hair kept up in a nondescript bun, and she carried herself like someone who was used to being invisible.

Abigail Wright looked like a shadow of a woman, a fitting description for someone who ought to be dead.

“You might as well sit down,” Abigail sighed. “I would offer you tea, but I’m not sure where Dessy keeps hers.”

“You don’t live with her?” Margot asked.

“No. It was too risky at the beginning, and as much as I love my sister she can be overwhelming.” She looked down at her hands, and Margot noticed she had bitten her nails down to the quick. She picked absentmindedly at the cuticles in a nervous gesture.  

“I don’t know where to begin,” Abigail admitted.

“The beginning would be nice,” Margot said as she took a seat next to her. “But I understand it can be difficult to know where the beginning lies.”

Abigail looked up at her, surprised. “Yes. That’s it exactly. In some ways it feels like my whole life is tangled up in my father’s death.” Her face fell once more. “Please don’t think too harshly of Desdemona. She has every right to be angry.”

“And you don’t?” Margot asked.

“I…” The nervousness in her hands worsened, though Margot noticed she kept her back ramrod straight, a vestige her childhood training that remained even now.

“Sometimes I wish I could be angry,” Abigail said. “I’m told anger can be a powerful analgesic, but all I can do is ask why even when I know there are no good answers.” She dared to look at Margot. “Do you ever have nightmares? About what caused your scars?”

Margot was taken aback by the question. “Sometimes. There was a moment when I was helpless to fight back, and I was sure I was going to die. It was a terrible feeling.”

Abigail nodded slowly as she processed this. “I think you might understand then.” She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then she began to speak.

“When I was a child I developed an interest in magic. Father taught me, though it irritated Mother to no end. I don’t think he would have if Felix had taken to it like he wanted, but Father wished desperately for one of us to follow in his footsteps. He wanted one of his children to love magic like he did.

“I don’t know how much of my aptitude was natural talent and what part stemmed from my desire to please him. Magic was something I was good at—it was the only thing I was good at, and when I was with my father it didn’t matter if I was awkward and bookish.”

Abigail paused again, her eyebrows drawing together. “If I had been a boy it wouldn’t have mattered, but as desperate as Father was to pass on his legacy, Mother was determined to see us well married and with families of our own. The first time I heard my parents quarrel was when I said I wanted to continue learning magic instead of going Miss Goodwin’s School for Girls with Desdemona. I think the only reason I was allowed to go was to keep Dessy and I separated. When I wasn’t with my father Dessy managed to wrangle me into all sorts of mischief, and there was no reason to believe that would change when we were in boarding school.  

“I did well at school, but I wasn’t happy there. I didn’t realize that the boys and girls were taught separately, and that girls were only instructed in the arts deemed suitably feminine. This, I think, was my father’s concession to my mother. I could learn magic, but it would be a woman’s magic.”

“How is that allowed?” Margot said.

“It was a private school,” Abigail said. “It didn’t have to answer to the same qualifications from the State. In any case, it doesn’t matter. I learned what they taught me and spent a great deal of my free time in the library teaching myself. One of the few joys were my father’s weekly letters. I tried to pretend that I liked school, but he must have sensed something because he began sending me questions for me to work on. They were monstrously difficult, but I began to look forward to them.” She smiled softly at the memory. “It was like a game. He would try to find a problem that I couldn’t solve, and I would do my best to solve it without anyone finding out what I was doing. And that was how I learned more about magical theory than anyone in that school, regardless of gender.

“It was around that time that my father’s research began to stall. For years he had tried to simplify the spellwork required for his equation on teleportation, but there came a point where it couldn’t be simplified any further and it was still too much of a magic load required to be practical. I, er, assume you’re familiar with my father’s research?” she asked suddenly.

“Some,” Margot said. “I know before switching to lithium as a power source he tried using diamonds.”

“That’s the traditional medium for holding large amounts of magical energy,” Abigail said. “And with a big enough diamond it would have worked, but my father was dead set on Teleportation for the masses, and there just aren’t enough gemstones of that size, and if there were they wouldn’t be particularly affordable.”

“You know a great deal about your father’s work,” Margot observed.

Twin spots of pink formed on her cheekbones. “Well, yes. I spent years studying with him, and after I left for school I don’t think he felt like he had anyone else to talk to. He was so secretive, even to his colleagues at the University.”

“He trusted you,” Margot said.

“I was his blood,” Abigail said simply. “More than that, we understood one another. He would get so frustrated when Wizards took all the glory for their feats of magic when their power was given to them, not earned. More than anything he wanted his name spoken in the same breath as theirs.”

“How altruistic,” Margot said, eyebrows raising.

Abigail grimaced. “My father was a proud man. Perhaps too proud. But he was also driven. He said that those with talent ought to use their talent, not waste it on frivolousness. He saw so much of society as frivolous, and rejected it. That…that can be a very lonely way to live, but that didn’t matter to him so long as he was successful in what he set out to do. Yet for a period of time he was stuck with this unsolvable problem that would drive him to the brink of madness, making him think that conventional wisdom was right and that some things are just impossible, even for magic.

“I hated hearing his despair, even in letters,” Abigail said quietly. “So I began searching for an answer, too.”

Margot jerked upright, startling her. Her eyes grew wide as she realized where Abigail’s rambling story was finally leading. “Are you telling me…?”

“I read an article in a journal. There was a mage working with a team of archeologists studying ancient artifacts. He found traces of lithium within one of them, and there was speculation that it was used as some kind of power source. It was a tiny little thing, no longer than my thumb. I thought the idea was absurd, but the more I researched the more I realized there was great potential in using lithium, if only because it’s cheaper and more prevalent in nature.” Abigail shrugged and looked down at her hands. “Father had spent so much time trying to fit his spell to work with a diamond, he never thought to look for a material that would work better with his spell.”

“You were the one who came up with the idea?” Margot said. She gripped the arms of her chair, pulse pounding so loudly that she wasn’t sure she could hear the soft-spoken elf. She could hardly believe it. Master Wright’s greatest achievement wasn’t his own. Suddenly she remembered the secret compartment in his desk. There had been stacks of letters from a school Margot hadn’t recognized, going back years. Were those the letters from Abigail’s time at boarding school?

Margot realized now why he would keep them hidden behind a hidden panel and a disillusion charm, and wondered what other secrets might be hiding in his correspondence.

“It was just an idea; Father was the one who figured out how to make it work,” Abigail protested. Her nervous fidgets worsened, until finally she had to stand up and begin pacing.

“It was just an idea,” she repeated, “and we both knew that no one would take it seriously if it came from me. My father poured his life and soul into his research—he was the one who designed the diagrams, he was the one who wrote the spellwork, and he was the one who convinced the world that it could be done.”

“And he’s the one who took all the credit,” Margot said. “Abigail, do you realize how huge this is? Master Wright’s theories could very well revolutionize how the academic world looks at magical research. More and more mages are looking to lithium instead of gemstones. You did that, not him.”

Abigail brought her hand over her mouth as she paced. “I know.”

“Abigail, that’s amazing,” Margot said. She laughed quietly. “You know, I wrote a paper arguing that researchers should take more consideration between the scientific and magical properties of the elements because I was inspired by how your father rejected the idea that gemstones were the quintessential medium for storing magic?”

“The paper Father used to adjust his safeguards?” Abigail asked.

“You know it?”

“I’ve…kept up with my father’s research. I was anxious to know how the mage’s conference would turn out.” She smiled shyly. “It was brilliantly written. My father’s one failing was that he wrote like an academic. I hated proofreading for him.”

“And you should be proud of your contributions to Master Wright’s research,” Margot countered. Then Abigail’s words sunk in. “Wait, you proofread your father’s papers?”

Abigail nodded hesitantly.

“Gods and goddess,” Margot breathed, the bottom dropping out of her stomach. Since starting this case the pedestal on which she’d placed Master Wright had severely cracked, but now it threatened to crumble entirely. “He never credited you, did he?”

“No one knew. Not even my family. Especially not my family,” Abigail said. Her eyes grew distant. “Separating Dessy and I had its intended effect, and we drifted apart during our school years. I hated keeping secrets from her, but I didn’t think she’d understand. Felix was so much older than us and absorbed in his own affairs…he and Father never saw eye to eye after he made it clear he wasn’t going to pursue his Mastery. Telling Mother was out of the question. She was still set on seeing me married.”

“But you kept helping him? Didn’t that seem odd?”

“I’ve been odd my entire life. At least I was doing something I enjoyed,” Abigail said. “Everything was fine until Dessy ran away from home.”

Abigail closed her eyes in a pained expression, and Margot said, “Felix told me that it was hard on you.”

“I knew she was going to do it. I wanted her to do it,” Abigail said. “She didn’t tell me when she was leaving, but it was only a matter of time, and I was happy for her. What I didn’t expect was Mother’s reaction. Dessy was hers like I was Father’s. They would spend hours together, especially after Dessy had left school. I think Mother had her life all planned out, not realizing it wasn’t what Dessy wanted. And when she left, Mother wanted her back.”

Abigail returned to her seat. “Father wanted her back, too, but only to avoid scandal. After years he’d finally found his breakthrough, there could be no more distractions. They would both do everything in their power to bring her home, and if they did I knew she would never have another chance at freedom. So I made Father stop.”

“How?” Margot said.

“Father was still teaching at the University then,” Abigail said. Her rigid posture slumped, and she scrubbed her face with her hands. When she looked up again she looked ten years older, and burdened by an incredible weight. “There had been…a story. That Father had used one of his student’s work for his own research without credit. I don’t know if it was true, and his friends at the university smothered the story before anything came of it. But I knew, and I told him if he didn’t let Desdemona go I would make sure everyone else knew, too.”

A tear slipped down her cheeks. “I wanted my sister to be happy, and she never would be at home. I could go my whole life without ever seeing her again and be content if I knew that she was happy.”

Abigail pulled out a handkerchief and blotted her eyes. “And in doing so I broke my father’s trust. He never forgave me for that, and Mother never forgave him for letting Dessy go. Father became paranoid that someone in the family would somehow ruin him, so he cut off Felix in hopes of curbing his exuberance and had no sympathy when his engagement fell apart because of it, which only enraged Mother more as it pushed Felix away from the family and robbed her of a potential daughter-in-law.

“Everyone was angry with everyone, and still I could have been content knowing that I helped Desdemona escape. I continued to work with Father, because I didn’t know what else to do. It was miserable, but I did it, and after a few rocky months life settled back into a routine.”

“You kept working with your father?” Margot asked. “He let you?”

“He had no one else,” Abigail said. “After I threatened to take the scandal public he resigned from the University. At home he knew where I was and what I was doing.”

“He could control you,” Margot said, disbelievingly.

“Father wanted so badly for his genius recognized that he thought that meant he had to do everything himself, but that’s impossible,” Abigail said. “Discovery doesn’t happen in a vacuum. He needed help, and he had me.”

She swallowed thickly. “Months passed. Felix moved out of the house, and one night Mother and Father left me alone to go to a charity dinner. I don’t know how she managed it, but Dessy must have known I would be by myself because she came back.”

“Desdemona came back to the house?” Margot said.

“To take me with her,” Abigail said. “She had found a place to live, gotten a job, and was saving money so she could travel the world. I can’t imagine how difficult it was going from our life of luxury to having nothing but the clothes on her back, but Dessy managed. That’s the kind of spirit she has.” She blew her nose, and laughed bitterly. “And she wanted to take me with her.”

“Why didn’t you go?” Margot asked.

“I knew I was too valuable for Father to lose,” Abigail said. “If I went with her he would surely track us down, and then what? I told her I was staying. She didn’t understand, because I had never told her. She had no idea what I had done. Any of it.”

She looked up at Margot, a picture of wretched misery. Her cheeks were splotchy red and eyes glassy from crying. “My sister and my father were the two people in my life who made me feel like I was a normal person instead of some kind of freak, and by the end of that night my father thought I had betrayed him for my sister and my sister thought I had betrayed her for my father. I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong or how to make it better. Mother tried to turn me into a replacement for Desdemona, but I couldn’t manage that either, and when Felix came home with a new fiancée I became an afterthought. Isabella was more sociable than I, and more malleable than Desdemona. She finally got the daughter she longed for for so long.”

“And you kept working for your father,” Margot said.

“I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t just leave, and magic was the only thing I’ve ever had any talent for. As time passed I started to hate it, and I started to hate myself.

“My lowest moment came five years after Dessy left. I had finished doing something for my father and went to his study to give it to him. He wasn’t in, so I tried to undo the charm that locked the door like I had one hundred times before. I couldn’t. My magic was gone.”

Until this time Margot had tried to the best of her ability not to let her horror show on her face, but at this she could not. It was a well-known fact that magic was an extension of will, a mage had to want a spell to succeed for it to work. To reach a point where there was no will to do something as simple as unlock a door was almost incomprehensible. Most mages considered their magic to be an essential part of themselves, an expression of their truest being. There was a reason why the color a person’s magic took was unique to them.

The amount of self-loathing it took to sever that connection was too terrible to contemplate. Margot felt like she was going to be sick.

“I just stood there for the longest time,” Abigail said. “I didn’t understand what had happened. I had been walking through a fog for as long as I could remember, it was almost impossible for anything to penetrate through. I think it was Isabella who found me. She asked what I was doing, and that’s when it hit me, all at once. My magic was gone. It was gone and it wasn’t coming back.

“I don’t remember what happened after that, exactly, but it caused enough of a commotion that my parents, brother, and the servants all rushed up to see what was the matter. I was hysterical, and there was nothing anyone could do to calm me down. A healer was called, but it was obvious that I wasn’t functioning. The loss of my magic snapped the one thread I had that was maintaining my façade of semi-normalcy. I was a danger to myself and others.”

Abigail took a deep shuddering breath at the memory, but did not continue. Cautiously, afraid of what she would hear, Margot asked, “What happened next?”

“Father had little choice, but honestly it was the best thing he could have done. As soon as I was well enough to travel he had me committed.”

“To an asylum?” Margot asked.

Abigail nodded. “I spent two years recovering. It was the hardest thing I’ve done in my entire life, but I was away from my family, and because of that I could heal. I know mental institutions have a bad reputation, and I won’t pretend that there weren’t terrible things that happened on the general ward, but Father paid for privacy and he paid for me to be treated. For that I’m thankful.”

“If not for Master Wright you wouldn’t have needed to be treated,” Margot said angrily.

“That’s what Dessy thinks,” Abigail said. “I don’t know how, but she found me there. By that time I’d been institutionalized for two years and was as recovered as I’ll ever be. We talked for hours about everything that had happened. I think it’s the only time I’ve made my sister cry.”

Margot felt the bile rise in her throat.

“A word to Father and I would have been released,” Abigail said. “I’d been judged incapable of making my own medical decisions, and as the one footing the bill he had the right to be in charge of my care. But that would mean going back, and I didn’t want to go back. I would have stayed in that hospital for my entire life before doing that.

“Dessy thought that was unacceptable, but legally there was nothing we could do. So it was decided that I would die at that hospital, and with Dessy and a detective by the name of Conan Westmacott that’s exactly what I did.”  

“I saw your tombstone,” Margot said. “Your brother thinks you committed suicide.”

“And I would prefer it stay that way, Professor,” Abigail said. “I don’t know how many laws we’ve broken getting me this far, but my family already thinks I’m insane. If they were to find out I don’t doubt they would have me recommitted, and without Father’s kindness I might not end up in a private bed.”

“Your father has been anything but kind to you, Abigail,” Margot said, more harshly than she intended. It took a enormous effort of will not to start yelling. What Master Wright had done was despicable, and the only ones who knew were forced to keep their mouth’s shut. 

You witnessed the death of a generational talent. 

The words of Professor Graves, spoken not that long ago, shook Margot to the core. Through the manipulation and abuse of his family Master Wright had succeeded in keeping his reputation lily white. The world mourned his loss, seeing his death as a brilliant mind gone too soon. 

Margot was beginning to understand why Felix Wright drank.

Abigail laughed, a sad, quiet little laugh. “I wish you could see the look on your face, Professor. You look just like Dessy. Just thinking of Father makes her furious.”

“And you don’t?”

“I told you at the beginning, Professor, I wish I could be angry. I know what my father did was wrong, and that I should be angry. But I can’t.” She hung her head. “I love my father, and sometimes I’m ashamed of myself for it, but it’s not something I can help. Do you know what hurts more than anything?”

“What?” Margot asked, half-fearing what she would hear.

“In the two years I spent at that asylum he didn’t visit me, not even once. If there was one thing I wish I could ask him, it would be why.” More tears spilled down her cheeks.

“But I know the answer. I just wished it wasn’t true.”

[kenzieam]

Surrender to the Call - Chapter Two (Bucky X Lev)

Rating: M (language, violence, mentions of torture and abuse, eventual smut, angst)

Genre: Drama/Angst

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**Potential Triggers, please read with caution**

Hey guys…. so ‘The Call of the Void’ is over, and I ended it on a cliffhanger….. sorry about that. Here is the sequel ‘Surrender to the Call’.

Lev has been recaptured by HYDRA, will Bucky be able to save her this time?

All dialogue in BOLD is Russian.

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

“What did she say?” Steve asked, heart sinking; Bucky looked like he’d just had his heart torn out.

He took a deep, steadying breath and answered. “She said ‘You are still my mission, Asset’.”

Steve looked sharply at Bucky, forehead furrowed.  

They were right back where they’d first started with Lev; the first time they’d rescued her from that abandoned base in Siberia. There was no trace of the woman they loved and cared for, the woman that owned Bucky’s heart and soul.

Lev slammed the flat of her fist against the glass and her lips twisted into a sneer when the men on the other side jumped. With a sigh, there was no point of it anymore, not with Lev seemingly able to see through it, Bruce reached over and flicked the switch that changed the glass from one to two-way.  

Lev’s predatory gaze didn’t waver, but her lips curled back from her teeth and she slowly ran her tongue along her canines as she assessed the men in front of her. After a moment, she turned her head and spoke a rapid-fire burst of Russian at Steve; he looked to Bucky for a translation.

Bucky sighed, rubbing the side of his hand roughly across his mouth. “She said, ‘it’s good to see you again, Captain. It’s been a long time.’ She’s -”

He was interrupted by Levi’s sudden laugh, a twisted, sardonic bark. Once more she hit the glass, the flat of her hands this time, and pushed away from the surface, storming away and sitting silently in a corner, folding surprisingly gracefully into a cross-legged position. Her eyes closed and her face relaxed, as if she were meditating.

“What the fuck do we do now?” Bruce muttered. 

Five more hours passed before Tony returned to the Tower. He looked like hell when Steve, Bucky and Bruce met him in the main briefing room, his voice raspy when he asked for a report on Lev’s condition, wincing when he learned the extent of her problems.  

“Jesus,” he mumbled.  

“What about the agreement? Is Lev clear?” Bucky asked, fists clenched in anxiety.

“They want to question her-”

“No. Not gonna happen.” Bucky snapped.

Steve leaned forward to diffuse Bucky’s growl. “She’s not going to say anything.... Tony, she’s just like before, closed off, pure HYDRA. They’d have better luck getting blood from a stone.”

“Yeah, and like I said, they went further this time; chemically enhanced her, cognitive subversion. She’s like a Rage infected ‘roid freak.”

Bucky snarled furiously at Bruce, slamming his metal fist on the table. “Fuck off Green Giant-”

Steve slashed through the air in front of both men with his hand. “Stop it!” Returning his attention to Tony he spoke again, his voice resigned. “It’s pointless, if she says anything, it’ll be a lie, a game. And either way, she’s not in the right frame of mind for what could be taken as a criminal interrogation. How secure is your agreement that she won‘t be held responsible for any of this?”

Tony shrugged. “If their attempts to destroy HYDRA are successful, then pretty secure; but if they need a scapegoat....” he trailed off uncertainly.  

“They can’t prosecute her! She’s a victim-” Bucky began, eyes widening in shock.

“And the country will want retribution. Someone’s head will roll for this, and if they can’t get the ringmasters from HYDRA, they’ll want Lev’s.” Tony replied, sounding exhausted.

“So much for your fucking negotiations! They’re going to destroy my girl like a fucking dog because you couldn’t-”

Steve slammed his fists on the table and both Tony and Bucky, who’d been leaning towards each other, readying to attack, pushed guardedly backwards, eyeing each other warily.  

Steve took a deep breath. “Tony, I thought we had assurance that Lev would be protected?”

Tony shrugged, earning a warning growl from the scowling brunette across the table from him. “She was willing to agree to pretty much anything at the time, but she’s much more calculating about it now.”  

“She can’t do that!” Bucky snapped.

“She’s the President, yes she can.” Tony sounded so tired.

“You can’t let her!”

“How, Tin Man? Start up some kind of Waco stand-off if they come for her?”

“Lev is an Avenger! She’s loyal to you!”

“Until HYDRA started stirring up her brains-”

“FUCK YOU!” Bucky roared, launching himself across the briefing table. Only Steve’s lightning fast reflexes saved Tony from the full brunt of Bucky’s attack, and the two serum-enhanced men crashed to the floor in a tangle of thrashing limbs and bellows of rage, Steve’s voice rising in desperation as he tried to calm his friend.

Tony had the sense to shut up and stumbled back from his chair, bracing himself against the wall, watching the wild scrabble at his feet. Bucky’s eyes flashed murder when they caught his.

“This! Isn’t! Helping!” Steve shouted, struggling with all his strength to restrain Bucky, his nose trickled blood from a well-placed fist and his heart hammered in his chest. This might be it, when Bucky finally snapped and killed Tony Stark.  

“Stop it!” Steve screamed directly in Bucky’s ear. “Think of Lev! Don’t make this worse!!”  

Bucky instantly went slack in Steve’s desperate grip, his eyes nearly black with heartache and sorrow. His chest heaved with exertion and emotion, his jaw clenched. He pushed Steve away suddenly, with surprising strength and stood, Steve clamoring to restrain him again.

“I am thinking of Lev.” Bucky retorted, his deep voice tremulous. “I won’t let you sell her out. You try, and I’ll kill you.”

His promise hanging heavy in the air, Bucky turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Steve turned back to Tony, panting for breath and scowled.

Tony had the grace to look sheepish.  

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

Although it hurt, like razors across his skin, like a lashing across his back (something HYDRA had done more than once in his seventy years at the Winter Soldier), Bucky was drawn again to the sub-basement.  

Lev was pacing again, stripped down to a muscle shirt and sweats that had been left for her on the cot. The changes her body had undergone were sickeningly obvious without her armor and combat gear. There was almost zero fat on her body, only corded, hard muscle, the type that is built through harsh, painful training, pushing past your boundaries constantly, tearing and reforming tissue constantly. Her knuckles were bloodied and scabbed and fresh scars littered her visible skin.  

Gone was any trace of her gentle femininity, her tempest-in-a-teapot elegance, a lethal ballerina; the certainty that, although she looked like a Victoria’s Secret Angel, she could and would kick your ass and you’d still like it. Left was brutal violence, rage and savagery. Her hands no longer looked capable of the feather-soft caresses that always set Bucky’s heart alight, prompting a bone-deep relaxation and contentment like he’d never felt before; instead they looked ready to tear and ravage, break bones as easily as it was breaking Bucky’s heart to see her like this.

His Levi was gone.  

Could she be found again?

“Asset.”

Bucky startled out of his thoughts, locking eyes with her. She’d stopped pacing and was now crowding the glass again, seemingly larger, as if her rage was making her grow. Gone was the gentle amethyst glow, the faint teasing lift at the corners of her full lips. Her jaw and cheekbones looked razor sharp, ready to cut and draw blood.  

“I’m not the Asset anymore.” He answered.

“You can’t escape it.”

“I did.”

“Did you?” The words were flat, mocking.  

“Yes, and you will too.”

Levi threw her head back and roared, a derisive, sneering sound so unlike her normally harmonious laugh. Dropping her head again she fixed Bucky with such a cold, heartless look that his blood froze; he’d never felt such desolation, not even as the Winter Soldier; Lev’s very soul was barren and bleak, devastated, a wasteland.  

“Tell yourself another fairytale, Asset.”

Bucky turned quickly away, fighting sudden tears. This was a mistake, he was too vulnerable, weakened too much by his love for Lev to be able to handle this change, this monster wearing her skin.

“She fought it... for you.”

Bucky couldn’t stop a shudder; every nerve ending screamed to run from the room, but his feet wouldn’t move, he crossed trembling arms across his massive chest, heart hammering a shaken tattoo.  

Lev continued conversationally, speaking in ghoulish third-person. "She screamed your name, twisted and fought the restraints; even when the agents were holding her down and savaging her...  she screamed for you.”

“SHUT UP!” Bucky roared, whirling back, fists clenched, chest heaving.

Lev laughed again, reptilian cunning in her eyes. "She screamed so sweetly, I love the sound of pain-”

Bucky launched himself at the glass, slamming against it with an inarticulate scream of mixed rage and anguish. Somehow, through the red haze, Bucky saw glittering triumph in Lev’s eyes and he staggered back, shaking. This was exactly what HYDRA wanted, they’d corrupted her in every way they could, morphing her body into a killer, and her mind into a remorseless sociopath.      

“Bucky! Bucky, save me!” Her voice, rough and harsh, mocked in a gruesome falsetto, shredding the words and the remaining pieces of Bucky’s heart.  

Bucky screamed in wordless agony, clawing at his face, his mind treating him to an unfiltered, horrific vision; Lev screaming, tears streaking down her bleeding face, eyes wild and rolling, blood-stained teeth bared in a keening wail of anguish and misery, fighting with every remaining ounce of her strength to resist the HYDRA agents swarming her, the wild fear, because she knew what was coming... again, as they flipped the switch on the memory suppressor another time, her body convulsing in agony as the last traces of her former life were torn from her mind-

Arms banded around him suddenly and dragged him away. Sound broke through to him again, and he realized that Steve was here, Steve was pulling him away, shouting in his ear.  

“Bucky! BUCK! CALM DOWN!”  

Bucky went limp, beyond exhausted and Steve dragged him from the room, Lev’s maniacal laughter ripping at the tattered remains of his sanity. With a grunt Steve slammed the heavy doors shut then turned back, catching Bucky as he staggered, before he fell.  

“She’s gone, Steve,” Bucky broke down, clawing at his friend’s shoulders, body shaking. “She’s gone, they took her and turned her into that thing-” his voice cracked and he couldn’t finish, dropping his exhausted head to Steve’s shoulder, his body trembling with mingled exhaustion and anguish. His vision swirled grey, then black.

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

A headache pounded behind his eyes as Bucky hesitantly, reluctantly opened them. It was quiet, and his muddled mind was slow to recognize his own quarters, the soft feel of the duvet beneath him, Lev’s favorite, the one he’d clung to since her capture, cried into each night as he desperately breathed in her fading scent.  

His eyes drifted shut again, unable to hold them open. He was so exhausted, both physically and mentally, bone weary and sick to death. The... creature they’d recaptured from HYDRA was beyond horrific, a sadistic monster who wanted to watch the world burn. It was such a polar opposite from the gentle soul that he loved; the beautiful, both inside and out, woman that he was soul-mated to.  

Could Lev come back from this? This was much worse, worlds apart from the first time. Then, they’d rescued a broken girl, now, they’d retrieved a soulless killer, a remorseless demon. Tears squeezed out from under his lids and trickled down his temples.  

His head turned, wincing, eyes reluctantly opening, when someone cleared their throat beside him.

“Steve,” he rasped, throat dry.  

Steve nodded absently. His bottom lip was swollen and red, like he’d been chewing and worrying at it constantly. He took a deep breath. “What was she saying to you?”

Bucky exhaled tremulously as her words came screaming back to him, all the hateful venom fresh. “She uh.... she said Lev fought,” his voice broke, despite his efforts. “Fought for me, screamed my name as the agents held her down-” he couldn’t finish and looked away.

“She was using third-person? Like her and Lev are completely different people?” Steve sounded perplexed and he rubbed his jaw distractedly, the stubble rasping.  

“Yeah,” Bucky looked upwards, blinking, trying to keep fresh tears from falling. “Lev’s not in there, Steve. It’s a totally different person, a monster wearing her skin.”      

Steve sighed, an exhausted exhale and rubbed roughly at his eyes. “What can we do?”

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe Shuri can help again? Get that HYDRA poison out of her mind? We’d still have the physical problems, but maybe... maybe Levi is still in there.”

Steve picked at his jeans, worrying at a small hole. “They still want to question her, but it’s looking like they’ve gotten some good intel from that captured agent, God knows what they did to get it.”

“So, that bitch will keep her end of the bargain? I’d have let her family burn if I’d known she was going to go back on her word like that.”

“No, you wouldn't.” Steve replied tiredly.

No, probably not... “I doubt they’ll get much, she either forgotten it or just refuses to use English, they’ll need a translator.”

Steve grimaced, eyeing Bucky sheepishly.  

“Me.” Bucky grumbled. The last place he wanted to be right now was back with Lev, translating her answers and listening to the full extent of his love’s corruption.  

“Nat is... Jesus, Buck, she won’t even leave her quarters, if it wasn’t for Clint she wouldn’t even eat.”

Bucky nodded absently, while he’d been in absolute hell these past months, Nat had been right beside him and, more than once, Clint had been the only thing standing between her and utter destruction. She’d emerged from her self-imposed hell for the recovery mission, but the shape Lev had been in when they’d rescued her had sent her scurrying right back. “When do they want to talk to her?”

“Soon. Go eat something jerk, you look like hell.”

“Pot, meet kettle.” Bucky grunted.

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

This is going nowhere, Bucky thought to himself, biting back a snarl as the same question was asked again. The President had the decency to look unnerved, but the agent that had accompanied her to do the actual interrogation was ice-cold.  

“Please explain where you were during the Embassy bombing in Moscow.” The agent asked, again.

Bucky exhaled, doing his best to hide his exasperation and translated the agent’s exact words to Lev, who was lounging against the glass, thoroughly enjoying herself.  

Lev smirked covertly, in a ‘we have a secret’ way at Bucky then began speaking earnestly and enthusiastically in flawless Russian.  

Bucky listened, forcing himself to keep a straight face. " You expect me to tell them that?” He asked flatly.  

Lev laughed heartedly and nodded, eyes dancing with amusement.  

“I can’t say that.”

“Do it Asset, translate for me.”

Bucky glared daggers at her, she was putting him in an awkward position, as she had been for the last half-hour, with her increasingly ridiculous and mocking answers.  

“What did it say?” The agent asked sharply, he couldn’t even be bothered to address Lev as a human.  

Bucky sighed, glaring balefully at Lev one final time. “She said ‘frolicking in a meadow, singing ‘The Sound of Music’.

The President huffed and the agent’s face went an interesting shade of puce.

“She really said that?” The agent snapped.

“You think I would make it up?”

“Covering for your girlfriend? Yes, I do.”

Steve intervened smoothly, stepping in front of Bucky while Tony intervened with the agent.  

“We explained at the beginning that we believed she would be unhelpful. If you don’t believe Sargeant Barnes, you’re welcome to bring in another translator, but HYDRA has corrupted both her body and mind; it’s as useless to interrogate her as it is to hold her responsible for HYDRA’s actions. She is a victim, just like-”

“DO NOT compare that... creature to the innocent people that were killed or wounded or just flat out disappeared.” The President commanded, eyes flashing.                                                                                        

Tony nodded crisply. “Alright, but she is not responsible; you agreed to that and we upheld our end of the bargain, your family is safe.”

The President flinched ever so slightly, her gaze moving abruptly to Steve and Bucky. Bucky was waiting tensely, trying to control his breathing, while Steve stood beside him, his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his volatile friend.  

“Fine.” The President agreed abruptly. She glared disdainfully at Lev, who grinned merrily back. “I am bound by my word, and I cannot afford to have you, Mr. Stark, or the Avengers as enemies; I will need your help to crush the remnants of HYDRA. Do what you can with her, rehabilitate her but rest assured we will be monitoring her progress. If you fail to restore her to her former self and remove this... dangerous corruption, then we will have to intervene.”

“And do what?” Bucky growled.

The agent answered, a faint glimmer in his eyes. “Rabid animals are usually destroyed, Sargeant.”    

Steve tightened his hand on Bucky’s shoulder in warning and it took all of Bucky’s considerable restraint to not react.  

“I’ll escort you out.” Tony said, his tone professional, gesturing with his arm. The President nodded to her agent then turned to follow Tony.

“The hills are aaallliivvveee-” Lev purred, too low for anyone but Steve and Bucky to hear. The men waited until the metal doors had shut before turning angrily towards her.  

“Lev? What the hell was that?” Steve demanded. “It’s obvious you can still speak English.”

“Calm yourself, comrade.” Lev replied scathingly. Her reptilian eyes flicked to Bucky. "I made the Captain swear, my love.”

Bucky flinched. Lev’s voice was scathing, acerbic, mocking. Her pet name slashed at his soul with rusty claws, tearing deep and the twitch of her lips said she knew exactly how badly it had hurt.  

Taking a large step backwards, Lev braced her feet shoulder-width apart and crossed her arms over her chest. The teasing glint in her eyes died instantly, her violet eyes going cold and dark.  

“Take your sniveling elsewhere, you shame our masters.”

Breathing hard, Bucky just stared at Lev for a long moment, unable to reconcile this... monster with his Lev; in a way, this side of her was worse than the raging beast, this showed cruel intelligence, a psychopathic streak of callous, sadistic evil.  

Bucky turned and fled, fighting to control his racing heart.