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sanktnikolais · 4 years ago

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Feed The Wolves

A/N: your local zoyalai stan neighbor is here yet again for another content but this time it’s for @wafflesandkruge‘s birthday!!! I went way overboard with this ig but the Vincenzo fever we’ve been on for the past two weeks was still strong and the ending still tugs at my heart. So pls have this mess, Tiff, I’m sorry HAHDKLHJAFDS Happy birthday, dearest! 🥺🥺

Word count: 13 874

CW: graphic depictions of violence and gore. Read at your own risk.

The Lantsovs have finally taken their move to overthrow the Brums’ tyranny to the extremities. They thought they already have the upper hand and that the odds are finally on their side. But in a game that two players have nothing and everything to lose, there is always a catch in every move they make, and with it also comes a price.

How far are they willing to take it?

If Nikolai could be proud of one moment, he knew it would be today. One couldn’t just make an easy audience with the head of the Brum Family; usually it would take nearly a week to set up an appointment. Jarl Brum was one of the first men to establish their own Families, along with the Tabans, Lantsovs, and the Morozovas, and he was the most powerful among them.

For now.

When one of the biggest Families was in a war and planning to attack another with the same reputation, it was only necessary to play carefully. Especially going against a cunning opponent like Jarl Brum. Today’s predicament was tricky; one wrong move could cost them the chance. Or worse—their lives. Either way, it was dangerous. But if they didn’t at least try to keep the Brums at bay, it would only be a matter of time before they take over all the cities, including Os Alta. And considering how they handled things, lots of lives could be lost.

There was still another way out of this, but it involved extreme measures and there would be no returning after that. He could only hope he wouldn’t have to settle for that last resort no matter how slim his chances were.

Nikolai snapped the lid of his lighter closed, his loud mind finding solace in the metallic clink it made. His eyes caught on the engraving on the side of the lighter. Consigliere Idiot. He fought a smile. The lighter had been a gift to him by Zoya on his birthday a few years back, and it somehow became his talisman ever since. It was a weird kind of gift at first, with Zoya knowing too well that he didn’t smoke that much. But he still got attached to it.

You never know, it might come in handy when you suddenly have an urge to set some place on fire, was what she had told him.

He scoffed at the memory, and then took a deep breath as he focused on his current situation. The risks of having this meeting turn to the bloodbath Nikolai was expecting were high, and if he were to be honest, winning a fight against the Brums was almost impossible.

But he was never the one to believe in impossible. Only improbable. The one thing he could do now was to put faith on the odds being at their side at the end of the day.

He flicked his lighter open and closed again before checking his watch. The bright numbers glared back at him like a countdown of a time bomb nearing its detonation. 17:48. Twelve minutes.

If his estimate was right, Zoya and her men would have arrived by now and started their raid. But knowing the Lantsov Underboss to be careful and precise, they would need a bit more time. It only meant Nikolai had to continue making small talks with the man to try and see if he could settle a score with the Don without the use of violence. Talking proved to be a bit difficult, though, as the head of the Family was being attentive to focusing on his paperworks rather than Nikolai’s presence.

"The numbers are really unstable in the past two weeks and it's mostly plummeting," said Jarl as his eyes scanned the paper he was holding for the last time. Then with a dramatic sigh, he opened the drawer to his right and put the file inside, plastering a rather fake smile on his lips afterwards. "There's been a lot of visitors."

Nikolai could see right through the man's displeasure. He almost laughed. At least the feeling is mutual. "Tell me about it," he said with a light laugh. "Having your business overrun without any reason sure does something to you."

A shadow crossed the Don's face, but Nikolai only smiled innocently and held his gloved hand out for a handshake, a sort of formal gesture between a Don and a Consigliere before and after every meeting. Anyone lower than the Underboss aren't allowed to touch the head of a Family, and they could only do as much as bow in respect for the Don.

Jarl accepted it reluctantly, his grip firm as if he were contemplating breaking Nikolai’s hand. Nikolai was grateful when the man didn't. Maybe because it wasn't a good sight to have and talk business to a Consigliere with a broken hand.

"A pleasant afternoon, isn't it?" mused Nikolai as he took a sip of the coffee. It tasted good, but not nearly as good as Genya's brew. No poison. Or maybe there was and the effects just weren't kicking in yet. He suddenly wished for the woman's knack on any poison. "The perfect chance to kill time.”

The Brum Don laughed lightly, the sound mildly threatening as if he had just thought of something vile. “Indeed, Consigliere,” he said, leaning back more comfortably in his chair. “Is the coffee good? I apologize if it isn’t, but I do hope the atmosphere is comfortable.”

Nikolai fought a wince. He had been here a few times before. Jarl’s office was ice white—ranging from the walls, floorings, and the ceiling. Even the chair he was sitting on had been white. The only thing that gave another color to the pasty room were the furniture and a few appliances. At least his couches were blood red, and the view of the huge window behind his desk was different in shade. Nikolai was thankful for the change of scenery.

“No, no. Everything is good.” It sounded fake, considering how he despised the man's office. But he shook it off. He tipped the mug up in a toast. “I appreciate it, and thank you for accepting my appointment.” He found it funny and silly, when Jarl’s caporegimes used the term “appointment”. It was as if Nikolai wanted to get his teeth checked by a dentist, and considering how the man’s office looked, maybe it really was one. “I thought it would take me another week to wait for the confirmation.”

“You’re a Lantsov, from the first pioneers of the Families.” Jarl paused, a hint of a sneer appearing on his face. “You needn’t to be delayed.”

There was something the way Jarl spoke that didn’t sit well with Nikolai, like the man knew something he didn’t. A thought crossed his mind, but he shook it off. There was no way Jarl knew about that. Or was it? It was not impossible—the Brum Don had a wide network of informants. Rumor had it that there were a few in Os Alta, the city that the Lantsovs had control over.

Him knowing about Nikolai’s real father would only give him power against them. But then Nikolai still decided to brush it off, though its dangerous possibility still lingered at the back of his mind. It wasn’t the time to think of it. They had to take back the territories that were once theirs, even if they had to do it by brute force. It’s what Zoya would have preferred, anyway.

“That’s good to hear,” said Nikolai with a tight smile.

The man crossed his hands over the table, a glint evident in his eyes. Nikolai didn’t know what to make out of it. “So let’s hear it, Consigliere,” said Jarl. “What brings the Lantsovs here?”

Straight to the point. Nikolai put his mug back to the desk and removed his gloves, exposing his scarred hands. Jarl’s eyes flitted to Nikolai's hands for a moment before looking away, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Nikolai felt a sneer twitch on his lips. Scars weren’t new to people like them—they had new ones very often, depending on the work they were doing that time. It was their brand, and they wear it with pride.

But if people knew the history of the scars you bore, especially when you had gotten it from being the vicious Enforcer who once intimidated the streets of Halmhend, you would have an ace against your enemies. And for Nikolai, he exactly just had that.

“We’re eyeing the areas in Halmhend and Ulensk for expansion,” he said, and he noticed the Brum Don perk up a little from his chair. Now Nikolai had his attention. “I heard that the two properties in those locations require some...changes. Big changes, if I may add. So I would like to propose an offer to buy the property for double its actual value.” He stopped to consider, putting a finger to his chin. "No, wait. Make it triple."

Jarl didn't answer for a while, and his expression was in between being offended and amused. Nikolai wondered if the man thought that his offer was a bluff.

"I think you're quite mistaken, Consigliere," he said mildly, his tone having an underlying disbelief. "We do not place our properties up for purchase or any sort of deal."

The properties you had taken from Families by force, Nikolai wanted to say, but he bit back his tongue. The feel of the lighter in his other hand was enough to ease the sudden flare of anger in his chest. He put on his signature grin to cover it up. "Ah, but I thought your numbers were plummeting for the past two weeks? I think my offer would help the numbers to be friendly and rise up nicely again."

"Is that what your father told you to do?" Jarl asked as he leaned back further into his chair. The look on his face had gone from slightly friendly to threatening. "To try and sway me with money?"

"Don't we all want to be swayed and pampered by money?" countered Nikolai, the grin never leaving his lips. Jarl’s expression only became darker, and it made Nikolai want to goad him more. "Think of the numbers finally rising, Jarl. I know you want that."

"It’s foolish to think that I’d willingly sell properties that we have the ability to look after just quite well, Consigliere.” The Brum Don shook his head with a disappointed expression. “I never thought you would be this desperate.”

This ticked something inside Nikolai, and he found himself suddenly saying, “Is that why you worked with the Radimovs to overthrow our territories?”

There was a tense silence, and the expression on Jarl’s face turned from angry to mildly surprised, like he hadn't expected Nikolai to know about the Brums involvement with the assault. They weren't the only Family with spies stationed in different cities; the Lantsovs had just as much informants as the Brums have, if not a bit less.

Nikolai took the silence as his chance to continue. "Ah, let me make that clear. The Radimovs doing the dirty work and the Brums happening to ‘buy’ the two properties the following day from them. That's pretty much all of it, right? And it's not different from what you did with the Tabans and the Demidovs. And somehow the Morozovas too." He chuckled darkly. "Though it's probably pretty much the Morozovas' payment to your Family for protecting their ass, so I wouldn't really take that into account. Doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

Jarl’s jaw was set, as if determined not to admit to the accusation. His eyes were hard, but Nikolai could notice the man's hand suddenly fiddling the pen within his reach in tense movements. He has such an obvious tell. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm merely joking, sir. I mean, I am indeed a genius in certain aspects, but I didn’t learn about that information by connecting the dots. I knew about your tactics from an informant," said Nikolai with a kind smile. "We may have been spiraling a bit out of control since the attempted murder of my father, but we're not as stupid as you think."

The Brums had used the Lantsovs’ distraction in prioritizing the Don’s security to their advantage, going as far as making frequent appearances in their properties, and even in Os Alta. One of the instances he couldn’t forget were the three Brum soldiers who had caused disturbance in their bar in Kribirsk, and it stirred up the brewing dispute between their Families.

Nikolai wouldn't even be surprised if the Brums had something to do with the assassination. And if he were to really think of it now, it was most likely possible. The Demidovs weren't that powerful enough to do something as bold as trying to take down one of the most powerful Dons in the country, unless there was a much bigger hand controlling them.

The only Family who had the ability to pull off a stunt like that was the Brums. But knowing them, they always used someone else to do their dirty work for them as they wanted to maintain the 'clean slate' of their name.

They could always put out the fire, but they can never cover up the smoke.

Jarl considered Nikolai for another moment, and then he let out a loud laugh. “I get why Alexander appointed you as Consigliere and not your older brother. A clever boy, you are,” he said. "Can't be fooled easily."

"I'd take that as a compliment, sir," said Nikolai.

He reached over to the mug of coffee again, but his hand suddenly felt stiff and rigid as if something was keeping it from being able to move. Then his vision blurred slightly for a moment before it sharpened again, making him blink.

It took him a second, and a quiet laugh bubbled from his chest. His suspicions were right, then. He gripped the lighter tightly in his hand like it was the only source of his strength. Coffee was the last thing he had expected to have poison in it, and disbelief muddled his mind.

Cheeky bastard, should have put it in brandy or whiskey instead of slandering coffee this way.

Nikolai held the mug with a bit of effort in his outstretched hand, trying not to let his strain show. But when he looked up back to the Don again, there was no denying that he had already noticed Nikolai’s difficulty in moving, and the beginning of a smirk was evident on Jarl’s expression. The knife hidden under the lapel of Nikolai’s coat suddenly felt heavy.

This was going to be a pain to get through again.

"How's your father, Nikolai?" the man asked. Even his voice sounded faraway now. "Is he recovering well?"

"He is. Quite well, I'll say. He might get discharged next week," Nikolai replied before raising the mug to his lips again. It was only when he took another sip of the coffee did he finally recognize the slightest difference in the taste of a purely black coffee. Genya would have scolded him for not recognizing it right away. Cyanide. Cheap. "He sends his regards, by the way."

Jarl smiled. "I appreciate it." He paused, his eyebrows furrowing in mock concern. Nikolai wanted to laugh. "Are you alright? You seem to be looking quite unwell."

Nikolai shrugged, the movement requiring much more effort as he was still adjusting to the toxins in his body. "I'm fine, just a bit stiff. The coffee had a bit of a kick in it."

"Ah, but you did like your coffee without sugar, right?"

"Yeah, makes it more bracing." He gestured to the mug with a nod before placing it back to the desk. A dull tremor shot through him, and he fiddled with the lighter in his hand to keep it from going completely numb. "So, is your answer really a no?"

"You make me laugh, Consigliere. Here you are, alone, wanting to have an appointment to meet with me just to offer some nonsense."

“I wouldn’t actually call it nonsense I would say ultimatum, but that sounds too threatening so I think I’d tone it down for a bit,” said Nikolai, his tone light. He checked his watch. 17:58. Almost there. But then another tremor shot through him, and this time, he wasn’t able to stop a pained groan from tearing in his throat. He raised a finger. “Wait, give me a second.”

Nikolai closed his eyes and breathed deeply, flexing his fingers open and close. This was becoming rather embarrassing for him, to give threats to someone of a much higher rank than him while looking he was about to throw up, but he took his time. After a few more moments, he finally regained his composure. When he looked back up to the Don, Jarl had an amused expression on his face as if he were thinking of Nikolai as a big joke.

"Consider it a friendly warning," Nikolai said with a grin. “I wouldn’t want to spew threats yet when I still haven’t tried to convince you to change your mind.”

Jarl’s expression darkened. "This is a three-hectare property. No one would notice the Lantsov Consigliere not coming out of here."

"Oh, dear me. Are we doing threats now?" Nikolai laughed, or more like wheezed, and shook his head. "Three hectares, you say? So if I burned down this side of the compound, firefighters won't arrive in time, no? Or even just shooting you, I'm pretty sure no one else would hear."

"You're in my compound, Nikolai. My territory."

Nikolai shrugged. "Hasn't stopped me before."

"There are guards patrolling around right outside the hall. They will immediately barge in the moment I hit the alarm."

"Ah, let them. I like that kind of attention. Boosts my ego exponentially." The watch around Nikolai’s wrist beeped softly, and he glanced down at it to confirm that the numbers had already turned to 18:00. "I also did like my coffee without poison, actually. But I appreciate the improvised addition. Cyanide as an alternative to sugar? Genius. Gave a rush of thrill in my blood."

If Nikolai could frame the look of the evident shock on Jarl’s face, he would have made a whole exhibit just for it. People needed to see such a rare sighting of the Brum Don getting caught off guard. The man blinked repeatedly, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing in front of him.

Trust me, this will get useful at some point, Genya's voice echoed in his head. Nikolai silently thanked their caporegime's insistence for him to develop poison immunity. All those days of handling mild paralysis and unconsciousness was worth it.

"Oh, pardon me. Was I being too straightforward with that?" He chuckled lightly. "I can repeat it though. You got me good there, I can already feel it kicking in. But if you wanted to kill me, I think I would prefer a bullet to the brain just to be sure. That's a hundred percent chance I wouldn't walk out of here alive, or just mix in as much cyanide as you have. A sprinkle won’t be enough."

Jarl let out a laugh of his own, but the sound came out nervous instead of threatening. The man was evidently pale and he was now holding the pen so tightly in his fist he could have snapped it in half. "But that would be messy now, wouldn't it?" he said with a grin. Even his smile looked forced. "As you've told me, we don't do the dirty work.

"Hmm, fair. But there would be no thrill at all, would it? Having to hide behind your coffers and let others do the labor? That's icky." Nikolai shook his head. There was another tremor that shot throughout his body, but it was much weaker than the ones before it, and he almost smiled. At least that was over. Bless you, Genya. He leaned forward for a bit, his eyes narrowing curiously. "Do tell me, Jarl. How would it feel when someone else takes over your business by force, and brutally kills your men and innocent workers in the process? They’re not a threat, Jarl. Much less an enemy. Why involve them in the mess? We don’t do that. That is against our principles. But I guess that's never in your book, was it? You just do things that would satisfy your greed and thirst for blood."

“Getting bolder now, aren't we, Consigliere? I would watch that mouth of yours if I were you. Do you think the Lantsovs could handle another loss, especially their Consigliere?” The Brum Don shook his head, a look of disappointment on his face. “Who would try to handle things diplomatically?”

It was threat after threat. “That is a good question, sir,” said Nikolai. He flexed his fingers on both hands and put them on his knees. “I know Nazyalensky can be diplomatic if need be. But I also know she prefers to use rather drastic measures than talking. ‘It’s the easier way’, she always says. I would have to agree with her at certain times.”

“Are you implying something?”

Nikolai plastered a grin on his face. “Only the fact that you’d be facing lesser diplomatic meetings with the Lantsovs if I ever not make it out of here alive,” he said. A soft ping resounded, and he took out his phone from his coat pocket. He checked the alert, his grin turning smug and menacing, the kind that people rarely see the Lantsov Consigliere ever did. “And that you’d probably be dealing with it sooner than you thought.”

A look of confusion bloomed on the Don’s face, and then, as if on cue, the telephone on the side of his desk blared, the sound startling Jarl and making him jump slightly on his seat. He looked at it with suspicion. Nikolai wanted to laugh, but he figured that it would be rude. Besides, the whole ordeal wasn’t done yet—a lot could still happen, and he was still reeling from the effects of the poison. But he could already see the odds on their side.

“I would answer that if I were you,” Nikolai said calmly, his fingers finding the lid of his lighter again. He flicked it open and back close. He could still feel the strain in his hand, but at least it he could move it properly again. “It’s probably important.”

Jarl narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s your deal, Consigliere? Why are you really here?”

“Just answer the telephone, sir. Maybe it will give you the answer.”

There was another tense silence. The Brum Don suddenly didn’t look like he was having fun trying to get him cornered. This was the best part for Nikolai, the thrill he always got whenever the upper hand his enemies had against him was suddenly taken away from them and he would watch them crumble slowly and back away until they were the ones cornered instead of him. It was such a satisfying view to watch.

And Nikolai were to look at it now, it was exactly how he wanted it. One didn’t just easily get Jarl Brum on the edge of his seat.

“Well?” Nikolai mused.

The frown on Brum Don’s face only deepened, and then reluctantly, he reached for the telephone and slowly raised the receiver near his ear. A few beats, and then, “Yes?”

Nikolai watched the man’s face pale, his eyes shifting everywhere with the look of evident panic in them. His hand tightened around the receiver until his knuckles were almost white from gripping it too much. There was just so much anger radiating off of him that Nikolai was surprised the Don hadn’t even pointed a gun at him yet.

Then Jarl’s attention snapped to him after a moment, his eyes murderous with every intent to kill. Nikolai returned his look with an innocent grin, and the Don’s jaw was set in complete rage. If were some other person, he knew he would have cowered back in fear. But years trying to prove himself he was worthy to be an official member of the Lantsov family despite his bloodline contributed a lot to the name he had built for himself.

The Demon Prince of Halmhend—the people had whispered his name in both awe and fear. And with each dark and nasty scar and blood he got on his hands, the stronger his reputation grew. He would get the job done, and he would use whatever method he had to, even if it meant having to have a staredown with death himself.

It would take much more than some Don’s murderous look to derail Nikolai from his goal.

He watched patiently as the Don put back the receiver to the cradle, his dark gaze turning from enraged to cold fury, like he had finally accepted whatever was said to him in the call. Jarl stared down at him for another long moment, and Nikolai could practically see the gears in the man’s head working.

“Alright, Consigliere. You made your point.” The Don kept his face expressionless, but his eyes told Nikolai otherwise. “What do you really want?”

Finally. “Stop the unnecessary attacks and killings,” Nikolai said. “You can’t keep that act up and expect the others not to turn against you.”

“No one would dare go against us. We both know that.”

“It’s because we’re still holding back.”

A shadow passed over Jarl’s face, and his expression darkened even more. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” replied Nikolai. He reached up to fix his tie. “If I were to be honest, the Tabans could take you any day. They just don’t choose to. Waste of resources, they say. But really, I understand. It would be too easy for them.”

“The Tabans don’t choose to fight because they’re cowards,” Jarl said with a huff. “Not because they don’t choose to do so.”

Nikolai wrinkled his nose. “Tell that to Madam Makhi’s face, and you’ll see your throat by the end of her sword,” he said. He leaned forward as if to tell a secret. “She keeps a very sharp sword in her office, by the way. And she knows how to use it, so I don’t really suggest going against her.”

Jarl shook his head, the smirk still evident on his lips. “And if I don’t agree to your motion? What can you possibly do with—”

“You would find my family retaliating,” Nikolai cut him off, and the Don reared back in mild surprise. “The attacks would continue, and I will let it go on. Don’t try fighting in a war where you’re going to lose.”

The Don didn’t say anything after that. Nikolai gave him a smile, feeling a bit more confident than before that maybe they had driven Jarl Brum into a corner. Then, to his astonishment, Jarl did something entirely beyond his expectation.

He laughed.

And it wasn’t the desperate type but rather a genuinely amused one, like he had just heard the funniest joke that Nikolai could have ever done. Instantly, his grin faded. Jarl Brum was actually laughing. Nikolai could only look back at the Brum Don with utter confusion as uneasiness settled in his gut. The man acted as if he was one step ahead of them, and whatever confidence Nikolai had in himself the moment he stepped inside the man’s office was gone.

“The White Island, huh?” Jarl said through his laughs. He shook his head, dramatically reaching up to wipe the nonexistent tears from his eyes. "That hotel is quite a sight, but its location in Ulensk is utter shit. You can burn it down all you want, I wouldn't mind. You didn't have to hide the fact you would raid it just to make a point."

Dread washed over Nikolai. It felt like this was the real poison taking effect in his system and halted his thoughts completely. How in the saints' name did Jarl know about the raid? Were Tolya and Tamar safe? Which part of the Don's terrified look had been real?

He watched the Brum Don stand from his seat and walked to the drawers behind his desk. He bent down to pull a bottle of wine out along with two glasses, humming happily as he went along. It was a baffling sight to see Jarl’s shift in his demeanor, especially from the perspective of a person who knew their way around manipulating their own emotions.

Was this how he looked like to other people? Awful and terrifying?

"You're a lot silent now, Consigliere," mused Jarl as he poured wine onto the two glasses. He didn't even need to turn around for Nikolai to know that the man was having fun having the upper hand once again. "Did I surprise you?"

Nikolai's hand clenched into a fist to keep it from trembling badly with suppressed fury. It wasn't the right time to act yet. He glared at the Brum Don's back, and with slow, silent movements, he carefully reached for the knife under his lapel and slipped it in the edge of his sleeve. The distress and fear clouding his mind may have been overwhelming enough to make him unable to answer, but he wasn't going to let any chances slide. The Brum Don took his silence as a cue to continue.

"Ah, don't worry. Your guys leading the raid in White Island Hotel is fine," said Jarl with a light laugh. "I didn't put extra security there tonight on purpose. So your guys are probably done turning the place upside down by now." Then he paused, lifting his head up to stare out the glass window in front of him. "It's actually your people who went to the arms factory I'm worried about."

Whatever composure Nikolai had in himself crumbled to nothing. No—

"You're probably wondering how I knew about it. Well, like you, I have my informants too. And that huge shipment of firepower last week? What other reasons did the Lantsovs have to have that kind of shipment aside from going to war? Doesn't need to take a genius to figure that out." Jarl walked back to his desk and placed the other glass of wine he was holding in front of Nikolai. "And what's the most convenient thing to hit during a war? The arms factory and its warehouse. It's only our luck that you sent Nazyalensky to her own demise. I did put more security in that place."

For once, Nikolai didn't have anything to say back. He usually prided himself of being able to make people bow down to his wishes, even if it meant threatening them to the extremes or just simply having a conversation with them.

And yet the mere thought of Zoya in danger was enough to spiral him out of his thoughts.

"I did surprise you now, didn't I?" Jarl chuckled, taking another sip from his glass. "You see, this is what I meant when I said no one dares to go against us. I'm always a step ahead."

Nikolai gritted his teeth, clenching his hands into fists to keep himself from lunging at the Don. "What did you do to her?"

"Do settle down, Consigliere. She's not in danger. Oh, at least not yet. I haven't given them any orders." He paused, frowning as if he had said something wrong. "But that may change in a moment. Unless you do something for me."

"What do you want?"

Jarl raised an eyebrow. "That was fast, I haven't even blinked," he said. "It's quite a sight to see the great Lantsov Consigliere quickly bow down just because his woman is in danger."

"Just say your conditions, Jarl."

"You will agree to sign a contract that would legally make the Lantsovs as the Brums' subsidiary."

Nikolai looked at the Don with utter disbelief like he had just grown another head on his shoulder. Jarl must have been joking. Maybe Zoya was alright and had already handled the situation at Halmhend. Nikolai's irritation suddenly flared. His thinking was becoming too unstable—which wasn't ideal for his current situation. And if he continued to let Jarl’s words get to him, he would certainly lose this fight.

"In fact, it's still quite a generous offer." Jarl tipped his head in respect. "It's for seeing through that coffee I gave you. And even surviving it."

"And what if I don't?" Nikolai asked, voice nearly a hiss.

Jarl smiled. “Then Nazyalensky dies. Very simple.”

“How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

Then as if on cue, Nikolai’s phone rang again, tearing his attention away from wanting to lunge at the Don. He looked at the screen, and it showed a restricted number was trying to make a call. And even though it didn't exactly show who was calling, Nikolai already knew who was on the other line.

"I would answer that if I were you," said Jarl, his tone smug as he repeated Nikolai’s line from earlier. With a confident smile that almost ticked off the last Nikolai’s patience, Jarl added, "It's probably important."

Nikolai looked down at his phone again, thinking that maybe if he stared hard enough at the bright numbers glaring back at him, the call would stop and prove that the Brum Don was just bluffing.

But when it continued to ring, it stabbed fear into his heart. Zoya never called him during an operation, only quick signals and messages.

"Well?" Jarl mused. He took a sip from his own glass and raised an eyebrow. "Nazyalensky won't wait all night."

The urge to act upon his anger was now stronger than his will to keep on a neutral face, and yet Nikolai still held back. He wouldn't do anything unless he was sure he had every reason to.

But the mention of Zoya's name from this despicable man's lips was making it hard to keep himself from killing the Don.

"If you lay even one finger on her," Nikolai said, voice low with threat, "I will burn every single place you have until the flames reach you and you will be burning down with them."

A shadow passed on Jarl’s face, but it was gone as soon as Nikolai could blink, and there was the sneer on his face again. "Just answer the call, Consigliere."

Nikolai did what he was told and he swiped the icon to the right. He slowly put the phone to his ear, his gaze never wavering from Jarl.

The other line was quiet, except for the occasional strained breathing in the background. He fought the urge to call out for her name—it wasn't the time to give the Brum Don more leverage against him. So he waited.

Zoya, he pleaded in his mind. Please be alright.

It was a desperate thought, one he hoped that would be true, because he would have to settle for the last resort and the Don wouldn't see another sunrise after tonight.

There was another silence, more ragged breathing. Nikolai's vision was starting to tunnel as he fought for composure, and Don's smirk was only adding fuel to the fire in him that was waiting to be ignited.

A beat, and there was a pained voice that said, "Nikolai—"

Something in Nikolai snapped, and he was suddenly flicking the knife out from his sleeve and then hauled it at Jarl Brum.

It hit the man on his shoulder hard enough for his chair to tip back, and he fell over with a shout. Nikolai shot up from his own chair and slid over the Don's desk, landing on the ground next to the man and kicking the man's arm even before he could reach for the alarm button under the edge of the table. He kept Jarl's arm pinned to the floor with his foot, and when the Don tried to reach for Nikolai's ankle with his other free arm, he pressed his foot harder against the man's arm he was sure he heard a soft crack.

Dizziness hit nim like a tidal wave that almost threw him off balance. His vision swayed. Waiting for his body to adapt to the toxins would still take a bit of time, but he was being driven by his rage that he almost forgot he wasn’t here to kill the Don.

"Did I catch you off guard?" Jarl asked with a strained laugh. "She really is your soft spot, eh? If I had known earlier I would have—"

Nikolai didn’t let him finish and brought his foot down with force, completely breaking the man's wrist. Jarl opened his mouth to let out a scream of pain, but Nikolai's other foot had already hit the Don across face before he could make a sound. Blood dripped from the side of the man's lips, and he spit it out to the side.

“I would watch that mouth of yours if I were you,” Nikolai said. With casual ease, he nudged the handle of the knife with his toe, and it earned another shout from the man. A smirk twitched on his lips at the sound of the Don's agony. There was always something satisfying in hearing your enemies scream in pain. "Not looking so tough now, aren't you, sir? But do scream all you want. Your office is soundproof, isn’t it?"

Despite himself, Jarl still hadn't cowered back in fear. If possible, he only became much angrier than when Nikolai was goading him before. "The Families would know about this assault," he said through gritted teeth. "You're making a big mistake by attacking the Brum Don."

"Am I now?" Nikolai leaned closer, resting his elbow on his bent knee. He reached out his other hand and patted Jarl on the cheek. The man flinched under his touch. "And 'Brum Don'? All I see is a dead man."

Jarl’s eyes widened in fear. "You won't kill me."

Nikolai huffed lightly. "That's what our enemies in Halmhend used to say." He shrugged, and then reached for the Don’s uninjured arm. "Look where it got them."

With a hard tug on the man’s wrist, Nikolai kicked the desk until it was farther away from Jarl’s reach. He wasn’t taking any chances of the Don trying to sneak and alarm his men to his office. At least not just yet. They had the time for games later. Nikolai dragged Jarl to the wine drawer, throwing him off to the small wooden doors with a resounding thump.

Jarl groaned in pain, and yet it still sounded restrained as if he were keeping himself from making another shout. He was cradling his broken wrist on his lap, shoulder hunched forward enough for him to not show his face.

Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "Don't be shy now, I know you want to shout," he said as he grabbed the Don's fallen chair, standing it upright again and pulling it in front of Jarl before sitting down. He pulled out the lighter from his pocket. "I don't like it when they don't scream in pain."

There was no answer for a long moment, with the Don still in his hunched position. Nikolai eyed him sideways. The man's shoulders were shaking with every breath he drew, and the spot where the knife was lodged continued to leak of blood.

It was new to him to see Jarl Brum in such a vulnerable state. But he was still trying to put up the tough persona a Don should have, and Nikolai was determined to break him slowly. Inflicting immense pain was one of the strengths Nikolai learned in the streets that gave birth to his name.

“Still good, sir?” he asked in mock wonder. “You’re not as strong as I thought.”

The man shot up from his place on the floor, his other arm stretched out as if to reach for Nikolai’s neck, but the Consigliere had already anticipated it. He simply leaned back and grabbed the man by both of his arms. His movements stopped.

Nikolai gave him a sneer. "Courageous," he said with genuine respect. "But still slow."

He kicked the man on the chest, sending him crashing back to the drawers in a heap. Then Nikolai brought his foot down to Jarl’s ankle this time. There was another resounding crack, followed by a howl of pain. He almost smiled.

"Now that's the shout," Nikolai said. He stared down at the Don with pity. Jarl looked incredibly smaller for the Brum Don that terrorized everyone else. It was amusing to see how pain made anyone kneel to its extremities. "I thought your pride would still forbid you to scream. Make it louder for me, yeah? It sounds better."

"What do you want, Lantsov?" Jarl spat as if the name were some poison that stung his mouth. ��Or should I say Opjer?”

Nikolai’s jaw ticked in annoyance. He knows too much. "Not 'Consigliere' anymore? I feel sad about that, sir." He bent down and reached for the man's arm, bringing his hand close to him. He opened the lid of his lighter and put one of the Don's fingers in between the edge of the lid and the case. "I'll be brief, which I rarely do as I prefer talking more." He paused. "Call off your men."

Jarl let out a laugh. "Too late for that, Nikolai. But I can almost assume that they're already leaving now that the threat was handled in the—"

Nikolai forced the lid of his lighter close, and the Don screamed in pain. The tip of his finger was set in an odd angle, with blood leaking from the damaged nail. It dripped onto Nikolai’s hand and his wrist, and then to the cuff of his sleeve. He inwardly winced in displeasure. It could be taken care of later.

He kept his expression impassive and moved to another finger. "Call off your men," he repeated.

Jarl’s face was twisted in cold rage, but there was no denying the agony he was under that he was still trying to put up with. When he didn’t answer, Nikolai closed the lighter onto the man’s next finger. Another howl of agony. He moved to another finger.

“Eight remaining fingers, eight remaining chances,” he said. “I will say it again. Call off your men, Jarl. I’m still being generous with giving you chances.”

The man only smirked, and just as Nikolai was about to break off another finger, a loud thump resounded somewhere behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The doors to Jarl’s office were rattling, almost threatening to come off its hinges. The Don's men had a good way of knocking.

"As I've said," Jarl wheezed, making Nikolai turn back to him, "too late to do that."

Nikolai tsked. "Very well," he said, and then clamped the lid to the man's third finger. He let go of his arm, and Jarl crumpled down to the ground. "A reward for being able to sneak past me."

His men were still trying to barge the doors down, but they were almost succeeding in doing so when Nikolai caught a glimpse of the light outside the hall through the small space by the door that was beginning to grow wider. He turned back to the Don.

"Let's make you a bit more presentable, shall we?" said Nikolai.

He grabbed the man by the collar and forced him to stand before dragging him to the chair. Jarl wheezed in pain as he tried to fight back, but both of his hands were so badly damaged he couldn't make use of them. The Don could only give Nikolai as much as a glare.

He forced the man back down to the chair. "No need to look so angry, sir."

"You won't get out of here alive, Lantsov," growled Jarl. "You are totally outnumbered. My men would—"

"Ah" —Nikolai patted the man on the cheek— "let's not get ahead of our predictions. Let me borrow this for a second." He swiftly pulled out the knife from Jarl’s shoulder. "I'll be right back."

"You and Nazyalensky are goners, Consigliere. Both of you are not going to make it through the night."

"We'll see about that."

Nikolai eyed the still rattling doors, and glanced at the bloodied knife in his hand. He would be at a total disadvantage, he knew, but it was better than having nothing. Besides, he'd had far much worse situations that he got out of, some that involved using bare hands and teeth just to survive.

Tonight wasn't any different either.

He approached the doors just as there was finally the sound of a wood splintering, and he pressed himself against the wall beside the entryway. With a twist of his knife in his hand, he reached up to remove the tie around his neck with his other, letting the ends fall loose onto his shirt. It would only be a hindrance to his movements.

The doors barged open and men in gray overcoats came rushing in. Nikolai tightened his grip around the knife and counted heads. Seven. Jarl should have invited more.

The man nearest to him hadn't noticed him yet, and he took his chance.

Nikolai stepped forward and pushed his knife behind the man's throat.

One.

He immediately pulled the knife out, letting it fly towards the other Soldier to his right. Blood spurted from the man's neck. He crumpled to the ground with a gurgling sound.

A sneer twitched on his lips.

Two.

He started humming. The remaining men finally turned to him with their guns raised, but Nikolai was already on the move. He collided with the third one. His hand closed around the gun barrel and the other to the man's hand, pointing the gun to the other Soldiers.

Nikolai pulled the trigger. It hit the other Soldier on the head.

Three.

He turned a bit to the left and fired twice on the fourth Soldier's chest.

Four.

Nikolai twisted, using the third Soldier as a shield just as the shots erupted. The body convulsed as it took the barrage of bullets. Then the shots stopped, and he pressed the barrel under the man's chin before pulling the trigger.

Five.

He grabbed the gun, aimed over the dead man's shoulder, and fired at the other Soldier. He immediately crumpled on the ground after the bullet went straight through his skull.

Six.

With a push, Nikolai finally let the body fall to the ground. He turned to find the last Soldier, but he wasn't fast enough.

A shot rang out, and pain burst on his ear. He stopped humming and blinked. The remaining Soldier looked at him with a terrified expression, his hand trembling so badly as if he was out enduring the cold winter night. Then he dropped the gun completely and he fell to the ground.

Nikolai approached him slowly, like a predator cornering his prey. The Soldier started to back away. But the tremors quaking his body were too much that he couldn't even move fast enough.

A moment later, Nikolai was hovering above him, with the barrel of the gun pointed at his face, and he immediately raised a hand to protect himself.

"No—"

But Nikolai already pulled the trigger before the Soldier could even plead, and he crumpled to the ground on the pool of blood from the hole in his head.

Seven.

The room went silent again. Nikolai reached a hand up to his ear, feeling the sticky wetness around it along with the sting of pain. When he looked at his hand, his fingers were drenched in blood. He huffed. At least they were able to nick him.

He turned back to Jarl, who was still sitting idly on his office chair, the expression on his face was a mix of horror and bewilderment.

"There'd be more of them in a few moments, right?" Nikolai asked mildly as he went and got his knife from the Soldier's neck. He wiped it at the edge of the Soldier's gray coat, staining it red. Then he put it back behind the lapel of his coat. “How many are there left?”

At the Don’s silence, he scoffed. He walked back to Jarl by the desk, grabbing the man by his collar and forcing him up to his remaining good foot. It’d have to do. An audience was still an audience no matter how few they were, and he wanted Jarl to see every drop of blood shed by his men for everything they had done, and for every life they had ruined.

For hurting Zoya.

Because in the end, he would rather let himself be the one to end all this rather than branding himself as a traitor for selling his own Family out and risking any chances of putting Zoya's life on the line even more. He could only hope Tamar would be able to reach her on time.

There was no turning back from this.

This tyranny had to end tonight, as it would only continue until the point of time where no one could stop them.

It was time to be the monster that he had been once more.

Nikolai dragged Jarl outside the doors of the office. “Let the hunting party start, then.”

---

Zoya struggled against the restraints bounding her hands behind her. But then pain shot up to her side from where a bullet had grazed her during the shootout earlier. She grit her teeth, glaring at the man in front of her. She would definitely break his neck the moment she got free.

The storage room where they had been holding her was guarded with three other men in gray overcoats. They looked stiff and alert, their guns poised readily to aim at her the moment she tried to do something funny. Zoya wanted to laugh. She understood the hostility around her, especially when there's only several of them left in the warehouse.

It was supposed to be much lesser than Zoya had expected—the arms warehouse should have been empty except for a few guards on patrol and a Brum Soldier staying in the upstairs office.

But instead of that, Zoya had walked straight up into a trap instead, with the number of Jarl’s men tripling and they were being led by Ivor Kravchenko, the notorious Brum caporegime known for his brutal tendencies when it came to taking down his enemies.

She had come to think that there might have been a leak of their own plans to orchestrate the simultaneous attacks against the Brums. They had been able to reduce a great number from Jarl’s men, but it cost all the lives of Zoya's men that were with her during the attack. Their blood would forever be on her hands.

The other thing she could hope for now was that Nikolai and the twins were alright on their sides of this predicament.

“You shouldn’t have left your Don’s compound,” she said. It was taking a lot of her remaining strength to speak. "You all left your boss' to the wolf's mercy."

The man, whom Zoya remembered as Ivor and Jarl's notorious caporegime, gave a dark laugh. "A wolf, you say? It doesn't matter, a lone wolf is no match for a whole pack," said the caporegime. "Your Consigliere might even be dead by now. Just like the rest of your men here. Don't get too cheeky now."

Zoya's rage flared, the urge to make the man suffer stronger than before. "You seem to be forgetting that I killed half of your men alone," she said. "You better make sure I don't get out of these bounds because it will be your blood spilled on the ground next."

This seemed to annoy Ivor, making him step forward in haste with a murderous expression on his face. But then he stopped abruptly as if he had just remembered something, and he straightened back up. "I could kill you right now and be done with it, Nazyalensky," he said in a low voice. "But I still just choose not to. It's fun to see the great Lantsov Underboss tied down at the Brums mercy."

"Chose not to, or you're still waiting for your Don to give the order like a good puppy you are?" Zoya said back, savoring the look of new rage on the caporegime's face. She gave him a sharp smile. "It's been an hour since you called my Consigliere and tried to rattle him down. You haven't even heard from Jarl ever since then."

Ivor snarled, and then he was grabbing at Zoya's hair and pulling her head back, his knife suddenly pressed to her cheek. Zoya smirked triumphantly. It was so easy to derail him—the whole Brum Family if possible. They were all bombs that were ready to detonate at any time.

This would be fun when she finally had him under her mercy later. But having to reach that point seemed very difficult and almost next to impossible, especially when there were ropes bounding her hands.

An realization dawned in her head when her eyes trailed down the knife near her face. She just had to make the man drop it somehow.

"Do not test me, Nazyalensky," Ivor growled as he pressed the knife harder to her skin. Zoya felt a trickle of blood run down her face. He traced the blood with the knife point lightly before hovering it to her skin again. "I can be merciless at certain times."

As can I, Ivor. "Suits you, then," said Zoya simply. "I have the freedom to choose when to be merciless. Unlike you, who still has to wait for a go signal from his person before he can bite."

With a growl, Ivor tugged at her hair harder. "Did you know what Jarl told me before I left to go handle the mess you will try to stage here?" he hissed. "He said that the Lantsov Consigliere and Underboss are the ones keeping their Family upright. If they were the ones to go first, they would all crumble, and he planned to do just that." Ivor smiled wickedly, the kind that spoke of a triumph gotten from a dirty play. "Starting with your Consigliere. I wonder how things would be if the Don suddenly decides to get rid of him."

She clenched her fists behind her, her fury burning cold in her blood. Nikolai was a lot smarter than the others give him credit for. There was never a dire situation that he hadn't gone through before—he could always find a way out of anything.

But their current standpoint only struck fear and doubt to Zoya. He was in their enemy's nest, the place where they had the absolute authority on everything. She had been reluctant for him to go alone, and yet he had insisted, saying that he had a plan just in case something went wrong.

And now that there had been a hole in their planned attack, Zoya could only hope that his plan didn't involve him risking his life more than he already did.

She would come and drag him out of hell if needed to.

"I'm pretty sure your Consigliere would run out of ideas at some point," added Ivor thoughtfully. "Tonight might be the time."

You can all dream.

Zoya gave a short laugh, and then she tipped her head back and struck Ivor's nose with her forehead.

The man shouted as he pushed back from her, dropping his knife and putting a hand up to his face. She quickly took the advantage and tipped the chair down sideways. Pain shot up to her side when she hit the floor, and her vision blacked out for a few moments. The blow to her head earlier only added to the dizziness that made her vision spin. But she shook the ache away and her hands felt around for the knife from the floor as the three men were still occupied with coddling their boss.

When she finally grasped the knife handle, she immediately tucked it to the insides of her sleeve before looking back up to Ivor.

Blood seeped through his fingers that were tightly holding his now broken nose, and his face was scrunched up in pain. Zoya felt a laugh bubble from her chest.

"Can't even take a hit, eh?" she called to Ivor, who only glared at her with a murderous glint in his eyes. "Come and train with our men, you'll learn how to brush off a punch to your jaw like it's merely dust."

Ivor let out an angry growl and started to walk his way to her again, but one of his Soldiers stopped him.

"There aren't any orders for us to kill her yet, sir," the Soldier said with finality. He looked a bit younger than the other men, but he had a sway on them that even Ivor stopped to consider his actions. "We should be patient."

Zoya huffed silently. Another well-trained pup, then.

The door to the room suddenly opened, and another one of Jarl’s men appeared by the threshold. "Sir," he said, gesturing outside, "it's urgent."

Ivor sighed in frustration. He gave Zoya another pointed look before turning to one of his men again. "Get her up and keep a close eye on her," he said stiffly, still holding a hand to his nose. "I might finally be allowed to kill her after."

With one last low gaze to Zoya, he stomped off the storage room. She huffed in amusement as she watched the Caporegime's retreating form disappear by the doorway.

"Petty ass," she muttered. But when Ivor's footsteps finally receded, she slid out the knife from her sleeve and started to cut through the ropes.

It was the younger Soldier that moved to lift her chair upright, his movements brusque and rough it made the pain on Zoya's side shoot up again.

"Easy with the moving, will you?" she hissed at the Soldier.

He sneered at her, pushing the chair roughly back down to its feet instead. "Witch," he hissed back, and Zoya had to laugh. The Soldier pointed the gun under her chin. "The only thing keeping me from firing is that the Don didn't want you dead just yet, and we're just waiting for the go signal." He pressed the barrel to her chin harder for emphasis. "Don't get too smug."

Men and their egos. "Sure thing, hon," said Zoya mildly with a shrug.

It seemed to be enough for the Soldier as he put down the gun and started to back off. But then ropes finally cut loose, and a smirk twitched at her lips. She kept her arms behind her and flipped the knife in her hand so that it pointed forward.

"Lapdog," she muttered, making sure the Soldier heard her.

And he did, because he suddenly stopped walking and turned to her again, a look of rage evident on his face. His jaw was set when he reached her again in a few quick strides.

He bent down and grabbed at her face. "What did you say, you—"

His next words came out in a gurgling mess when Zoya's hand shot up and pushed the knife into the man's throat.

She reached for the man's gun with her other hand just as the two other men noticed what was happening. She aimed and fired at the two of them before they could even raise their guns to shoot, and they crumpled to the ground with a thud.

The Soldier clawed at his neck desperately, his movements panicked. Zoya looked at him pitifully before yanking the knife out. The man fell to the ground.

She wiped her bloodied hand and knife to the squirming man's coat for a moment, staining the fabric blood red. His other hand still tried to reach for her ankle, but Zoya merely stepped away.

Then she pointed the gun to the Soldier's face. "For gunning down my men," she said before shooting him in the head.

He slumped to the ground, lifeless. Zoya winced at the sudden sting that pierced her side, and she almost doubled over. She checked her wound. The long line of the bullet graze was still oozing with blood, but much lesser than before. She would have to put up with it for now; she needed to have a talk with Ivor first.

Rushed footsteps echoed outside just as she neared the door. She immediately pressed herself against the wall beside the doorway and waited. A few moments later, the door barged open, and Ivor and another man came rushing in.

They hadn't noticed her yet, and Zoya sprang.

She raised her gun and shot the Soldier in the head. Ivor turned just as she aimed the gun to his thigh and pulled the trigger. He reared back with a shout, and Zoya swiped the gun up and whacked him across the face with the stock. Ivor crashed to the floor.

But when she finally got a closer look at the man's face, she realized it wasn't Ivor at all. The Soldier was only wearing the Caporegime's coat.

Zoya gritted her teeth as she pointed her gun to the man. "Where's Ivor?" she hissed.

He didn’t answer, and it made her anger flare even more. She put her finger closer to the trigger.

"Where—"

A crack of gunshot, and then a flash of excruciating pain on her other side just below her ribs. Zoya backed a few steps, dropping her gun and putting a hand to her side. When she checked on it after a moment, her palm was already covered in red.

"Miss me?" Ivor called out from the door.

Zoya didn’t have the strength to turn completely, and she crashed to the floor. The surroundings blurred into a mess of colors, the sudden flash of lights adding to the swaying of her vision. She put a hand to her wound, and she stifled a groan when another wave pain shot up to her body.

Ivor's figure appeared in her line of vision, his steps slow and deliberate as if he had all the time in the world. Zoya could only do as much as glare at the Caporegime, at the broken nose that had the faint traces of dried blood around it, and hoped for the Saints to give her enough strength to kill the guy right then. But her wishes were ignored and the pain only became worse.

"You think you could get out of my watch that easily?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I thought you were better than this."

"Come closer and I'll show you," Zoya snarled.

"A real tough one, aren't you? Even as you lay dying, you can still make someone cower in fear." Ivor laughed loudly, and it was like the sound of a chair being scraped off a tiled floor. "I had to admit I was impressed on how you got that knife. That was neat."

Zoya blinked. He had known?

As if he had heard her thoughts, Ivor chuckled darkly. "Oh, I did notice. That's why I staged a little dress up with one of my Soldiers here after the phone call. Always did the trick."

"Staged?" Zoya laughed, but it came out as a wheeze instead. "Did you really just use your men as bait just to kill me dramatically?"

"Ten points for Nazyalensky!" Ivor announced before raising his gun and pointing it at the Soldier he had made to wear his coat. "We're busted, unfortunately. Thank you for your service." Then he pulled the trigger.

Zoya winced at the sound of the dead body falling to the ground. She shook her head. "You're mad, Kravchenko."

"That, I am. But you know who's worse?" He bent down a little as if to tell some secret. Then he pointed two fingers at her. "You two." He paused to laugh again, and then he started pacing back and forth.

She took the small distraction to pull the handgun closer to her and hide it under her back. And when he stopped and stared back down at her, she noticed something strange. There was a wild look in his eyes, the deranged kind of glint of a paranoid man.

Ivor waved his gun carelessly in the air. "Oh, don't worry I finally have the order to kill you."

Zoya turned to her bad side slightly, bearing the pain that washed over her again and reaching for the gun she had hidden behind her.

"Worry not, Nazyalensky. You're going to meet your Consigliere soon," said Ivor. "The Don never planned to let your Consigliere get out of there alive, you know. The chance was too good to let it pass. He was a dead man the moment the Don accepted the meeting."

She knew Ivor was trying to get to her head, and she knew better that she shouldn't let it, but it was proving to be difficult when it was Nikolai’s safety being used against her. It was then she remembered this was what Ivor was known for��tormenting his enemies rights before he killed them. But Zoya knew to herself that she would have preferred physical torment than this. She wouldn't even have the chance to know if Nikolai was safe from any danger.

A bittersweet laugh bubbled from her chest. Even in near death circumstances, Nikolai was still her headache. She could only hope he would be able to get through tonight.

Zoya gripped the gun tightly. She wouldn't this man torment her until her last breath. Not without bringing him down with me.

Ivor was seething when he was checking his gun chamber. Something was definitely wrong with him. Had something come up after that phone call?

"This is a payback to your Consigliere for acting stupidly. And for what he's done," he said and he shook his head, fury and annoyance evident on his face. "He's so going to pay for that. I can't wait to kill him myself—" He stopped abruptly and turned back to Zoya. "You'll meet him soon, Nazyalensky. Don't worry, I'll make it—"

With what's left of her strength, Zoya lifted her arm and fired at the Caporegime, emptying the whole gun's whole clip at him. Ivor convulsed with every bullet he took, his eyes wide in shock as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.

When the gun only gave a click, Zoya let her arm fall. A triumphant smirk twitched at her lips as she watched Ivor's bewildered expression. His hand fell limp at his side, and he looked down at the holes on his chest.

A scoff tore from his throat, and along with it came blood that leaked from his lips. His expression turned from shocked to angry in a blink. With a shaking hand, he pointed his gun back at her. "You witch—"

There was a crack of gunshot. Zoya closed her eyes and waited for the momentary pain before the end.

But it didn't come.

There was a loud thud, like the sound of a body falling to the floor, and she opened her eyes again.

Ivor lay on the floor, lifeless, his wide, empty eyes still open. Blood started to pool around his body all too quickly.

"Zoya," a familiar voice said.

Through her blurry vision, Zoya could make out a figure of a woman approaching her in rush. Tamar.

She immediately held out her hand, and felt Tamar take it right away. The woman's other hand came to put pressure on her wound. "You're okay," Zoya said. Her breaths were starting to come out in short bursts. "Is Tolya—"

"He's fine, General, you should think of yourself first. Save your breath. You'll be fine." Tamar let go of her hand to pull out her phone. She dialled a number and started speaking to someone, but the words faded into echoes of distorted sounds.

A moment later Zoya heard Tamar's voice again. "Stay with me, Nazyalensky." She clasped at her hand, gripping it tightly as if it would give Zoya enough life again if she held on tighter.

Nikolai, Zoya wanted to ask her. Is he safe?

But the pain and exhaustion were too overwhelming for her to stay awake, and she found her grip on Tamar's hand loosening with every ragged breath she drew.

Have I done enough?

She didn't know.

Be safe, idiot.

She took another breath.

Then everything went dark.

***

Zoya opened her eyes.

Immediately, a dull throb washed over her body that almost made her pass out again, but the gentle touches she felt on her hand kept her anchored down to consciousness. She drew in a shaky breath.

She was still alive. She has survived the ordeal. Tamar and Tolya were safe too and—

Nikolai.

Where was he? Was he alive?

Zoya turned to her right in haste, but she stopped when she spotted a mess of blond hair on her bedside. The grip on her hand tightened, and she felt her eyes sting.

He's okay.

"Hey," she said, voice still rough from sleep.

Nikolai instantly bolted upright. He looked like a mess, with his hair ruffled and the bruises and cuts on his face. There were traces of dried blood on the side of face down to his collar, his coat, and even on the edge of his sleeves. His hands were no different; the skin around his knuckles were torn open and red. But the worse one he got was his left ear—or what was left of it. He was tired and in pain, and yet he only had the look of utter relief and warmth in his eyes when he looked at her and smiled.

There was an unexpected prick in her heart. Zoya wanted to reach out and hold him to her, to tell him that she was glad he was alive, but she couldn’t do anything of those as her body still felt heavy like lead due to the exhaustion and medication.

A tear fell down from his eye, and Nikolai quickly wiped it away with a tired laugh. Then he shifted closer, his hand reaching out to smooth the hair away from her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned against his touch almost immediately.

“You’re a mess, dear,” he said, his tone light with amusement.

Zoya huffed weakly. “You should see yourself.” She nodded at his state of dress. "It's not you to have your suit ruined like that."

“There’s always a first one, you know.” Nikolai gave her a wink. “Just not the thing I prefered. I can always throw it in the laundry, though.”

“You, doing the laundry? I know you’ll break the washing machine first before you can get anything done,” she said, and Nikolai laughed lightly. A small smile appeared on her lips, and she laced their fingers together. What she expected to be a gentle touch was a trembling grip instead. His hand was badly shaking. Concern washed over her as she looked at him in worry. “Nikolai?”

“I’m fine. I just—” Nikolai stopped. He laughed again, but it sounded more like a sob of relief instead. He shook his head. “You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered. He still looked like he was about to break any moment, but it was gone in a blink and he put on his signature grin that brightened up his features. “But I guess I didn’t have to worry that much now, yeah?”

Tears stung Zoya’s eyes again, and she smiled ruefully. I almost lost you too. But she covered it up with a smirk. “They can’t get rid of me that easily.”

"I know."

Silence fell around them. It was unusual for her to have a quiet as she was used to hearing all types of noises, whether it be the angry and rising tones during meetings or the gunfire that followed after when the negotiations went wrong. Even at nights, which was supposed to be when everything was in peace, were still haunted by the voices of the people who had died under her jurisdiction, and their blood was on her hands.

Having this moment struck dread to her, because good things, even the smallest ones, always came with a price. And she wasn't entirely sure if she was willing to give up anything.

"Do tell me your thoughts, dearest Zoya," Nikolai said, breaking the silence. He smiled as he continued his ministrations on her hair. "When you're quiet like that, I'm worried that you might be planning someone's death."

Zoya huffed. "How can you be sure that it wasn't your death I was planning?"

Nikolai chuckled. "Please, you can't plan something that's already done," he said in amusement, and then his face fell after a second as if he realized what he just said. He smiled but it was half-hearted than his usual ones. "I like being one step ahead, you know."

"What happened, Nikolai?" she asked softly, not wanting to risk him shying away. Her hand tightened its hold on his. "What did you do?"

"I did what I had to do," he said simply. There was a faraway look in his eyes as he stared down at their joined hands. He rubbed circles around her skin, his touch feather light. "There was no other way."

"Did you—" Zoya stopped. She didn't want to say it. She wanted to believe that if she didn't, it could change the truth. But the defeated look in his eyes only solidified the truth.

“Jarl Brum is dead," Nikolai said. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he looked back up at her. “He died when his compound had caught on fire due to faulty gas pipes. And the Lantsov Consigliere died with him in the fire. It’s what the people would hear by morning.” He paused, and breathed in deep. Then he smiled his usual grin again. “He put up quite a fight, though. It ruined my suit doing it. What a sad mess.”

Zoya could only stare at him in melancholy. She didn’t even have the heart to answer his joke back. That was their last resort. They both agreed that if things had turned out the worst, he would have to settle with killing the Don. But that was before, when they thought that their plans were foolproof.

I should have known and done better.

Nikolai must have seen the look on her face, because he shook his head gently and his grin turned into a rueful one. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do that to yourself. I don't regret doing anything,” he said. He took her hand in both of his. “He was going to force me to hand over the Lantsovs to them, saying he’ll have you killed if I don’t. It was a deadend. There was no guarantee they won’t hurt you even if I agree. And I was never going to sell us over, anyway.” He paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "I'd rather get hurt a thousand times more than lose you."

A tear finally fell from the side of her eye. If this was the price she had to pay for having this moment with him, she did not want it. She would give up anything else to pay the price. Just not this. Not him.

“So, I guess this is our last night together,” Zoya said, her voice breaking slightly.

His hand reached up to her face and wiped the tear with his thumb. There were also tears clouding his eyes. He nodded gently, the sad smile still on his lips. Zoya leaned in his hand. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I promise to annoy you to death so you would have enough spite for me to last in a long while.”

Zoya huffed in amusement. She had never hated him so much than she did now. How could he make it sound so easy when he was going to leave? “I already have enough spite to last for the rest of my life.”

Nikolai laughed back. “That’s good to hear.”

Another short silence filled the air, and Zoya looked him over. If it was the last time she would see him, she wanted to bask in the warmth radiating in his eyes and remember all the quirks he had, as if she hadn’t memorized everything about him before.

She lifted her hand slightly, and Nikolai went to hold it back in his. He turned his attention to her forearm, tracing the dark lines of the tattooed dragon on her skin. It felt like he was doing the same, memorizing a distinct feature of her that he would carry with him.

“I’ve always thought this one’s cooler than my wolf one,” he said softly, running his fingers on her skin. “You always get cooler ones than me.”

“Where would you go?” Zoya asked instead.

Nikolai stopped his ministrations, his fingers coming back to lace with hers. “It would be better if no one knew,” he replied solemnly. “Besides, I wouldn’t stay in one place for long.”

Zoya took a deep breath. This was their reality, and she should know better than lament over it. She wasn’t the type to let emotions take over her. But for Nikolai Lantsov, she would always be willing to make an exception.

“Maybe I can mail something from time to time,” he said. “Postcards and pictures, how do you feel about that?”

“Are you trying to make me feel better?”

Her Consigliere chuckled lightly. “No, I am entirely serious.” He shrugged. “Mail is the safest thing to get something across without the risk of being traced.”

Zoya shook her head with a light laugh. I’d take anything. “Whatever you say, corn salad,” she said, and Nikolai laughed. A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over through her. The medicine must be taking its effects now. No, not yet. A few more minutes. “When do you leave?”

A beat, and then Nikolai said, “Soon.” An amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You don’t have to be so excited.”

“Idiot,” she mumbled. There was a twinge in her chest with the nickname she had of him, knowing that it would be the last time she could tell it to him in person.

Nikolai tightened his hold on her hand, and she felt it trembling again. His eyes were bright with tears when he said, “I’ll miss that nickname.” I’ll miss you, was what never said aloud, but Zoya heard it all the same.

I’ll miss you too. Zoya gave him a small smile. “Just look at the engraving in your lighter, it will remind you.” Another wave of dizziness hit her, and she found her eyes drooping slightly.

Zoya heard him laugh softly, making her blink to shake the drowsiness away. Nikolai reached up to brush at the hair on her forehead again.

“Go get some more rest,” he said. His hand came down to her cheek, and he gently caressed her skin with his thumb. “Don’t fight it, I know you’re still tired.”

"I'm not tired," she grumbled back.

"Whatever you say, dear."

Her eyes were starting to feel too heavy for her to stay awake, but she still fought the drowsiness from taking over so she could still see him for a little more time.

"Go rest," he said again.

Zoya squeezed his hand. She was never the first one to ask. To their world, everything was a trade—you give and take. A request meant a desperate wish, and you should always be willing to pay the price.

But she had already paid for it, and it was only fair if she wished for one final request. Be it a selfish, impossible kind.

"Stay?" she asked. Even just for a moment longer. "You've always made a good bodyguard."

Nikolai smiled softly. I can't, was what his eyes said, and yet, aloud, he still said, "Of course." He tucked the blankets higher to her shoulders, his movements gentle and careful. "Now go back to sleep. I'll be here."

They both knew it was a lie.

Zoya closed her eyes, knowing she couldn't bear seeing him leave, and she'd rather have him do it while she was asleep.

Then he started humming. His shitty, off-tune humming. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with silent sobs, her eyebrows drawn tight together to keep her tears from falling. But they still did, anyway.

She felt him press his lips to her knuckles, and small droplets fall against her skin. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know that it was his tears.

"Good night, Nikolai," Zoya whispered in a shaky tone. Farewell. Be safe.

A short, heavy silence, and she heard him draw a ragged breath. "Good night, Zoya." Goodbye, Zoya.

His voice and the feel of his hand tight in hers were the last things she knew before sleep took over her.

And when Zoya finally slept, she dreamed that she would never have to let him go.

***

News about the death of the Brum Don because of the fire that caught his compound was heard early on the next morning. Television news, radio, newspapers, and even the social media boomed with the word, and it spread like wildfire.

It went even bigger when the Lantsov Consigliere was also reported to have died along the fire, with all the current evidence proving that the fire had been intentional. But none of them pointed to Nikolai. The investigation was still open, and it will probably go on for quite a while. The only thing that lightened the burden on Zoya’s chest was knowing that he was alive. He had known how things would go beforehand, and made sure that none of them ended up implicating the Lantsovs.

Always the well-prepared one.

The chair where Nikolai had sat last night was empty, as if he wasn’t there at all. The only traces left of him was the lingering scent of his perfume and the dip on her bedside where he had laid his arms on as he watched her with all the warmth in his eyes, the same warmth he took with him when he left.

Zoya felt her eyes sting with unwanted tears again as she looked out the window, but this time she didn’t try to keep them from falling. She smiled ruefully, a bittersweet feeling left in her heart. It was probably bad fate that had them cross paths, and it was also what separated them. But either way, it was still what had brought them together. She was thankful for that somehow, even if they only had limited time.

But then it struck her, that it didn’t always have to be fate that should handle things. She was the Lantsov Underboss, the one who drove the saintsforsaken Family out of the mud with the Consigliere. If there was something they were good at, it was handling things their own way and bending the odds to their will.

A near death experience had her questioning herself if she had done enough. She didn’t know the answer by then, but she did now.

I am not done yet.

She wouldn’t give up on Nikolai that easily. Even if it took her years to do it. She would bring him back.

Because she knew he would do the same for her.

I’ll see you again, Nikolai, she vowed. And it wouldn’t be the last.

Zoya would make sure of it.

***

A/N: if you’ve reached this far, please know i appreciate you ;-;

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Wisdom Tooth - Kiara Carrera

Request: hi there! can i request a kiara x reader where reader has to get her wisdom teeth taken out and she asks kiara to come along with her and the others come along too bc they know you like kiara. after it’s done you’re very clingy to kiara and keep complimenting her and confess that you like her ? thank you !

A/N: Fun fact, I have 3 out of 4 wisdom teeth still but I had to lose a molar when I got the one removed because it was impacted.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your mom had scheduled your appointment for after school, it was a half day and she figured you could walk across campus to the dentist’s office to get your wisdom teeth pulled before winter break. The upper right tooth was impacted, evidenced by the increasing amount of pain you were constantly in and they had decided to go ahead and pull all of them while they were pulling that one.

“Don’t they like, dose you up with painkillers?” John B asked as the four of you cut across the parking lot after school. The only disadvantage of Kiara not going to the same school as you anymore was that you always had to wait for her to drive down from the Eight. Even now as you walked with John B, JJ, and Pope (who had invited themselves along to your dentist’s appointment for some unknown reason) you were looking for Kiara’s subaru.

“I wanna be dosed up with painkillers.” JJ said, followed almost immediately by a groan as Pope smacked him in the chest.

“I seriously don’t think you guys are allowed in.” You said, stopping at the front door of the house that had been refashioned into a dentist’s practice.

“Why? Kiara’s coming.” JJ argued, glancing over as the green subaru pulled into a parking spot, “why does she get to go in and not us?”

“Is it because you love her more than us?” Pope asked, grinning when you groaned and rolled your eyes.

“It’s because she won’t be a total dick to me when I’m all doped up.” You replied.

“We’ll be saints!” John B swore, placing a hand over his heart. Pope and JJ quickly mirrored his stance. “Honest, we’ll sit in the waiting room and be silent.”

“You’d better.”

“What are you guys doing?” Kiara asked, coming up the front steps behind the four of you.

JJ turned around to face her, “going inside, what are you doing?”

You didn’t say anything, opening the door and going in, everyone else following behind you. The living room had been converted to a waiting area with a fish tank and a few different activities for kids to stay occupied. You went to the front desk window to check in while JJ, Pope, and John B went over to the coloring table, sitting around on kid sized chairs as they divided up coloring pages. Kiara grabbed a chair and sat down, away enough that she could pretend the people she just walked through the door with were complete strangers and not her actual friends.

“Okay,” you fell into the seat next to her, knee bobbing as you took a deep breath. You hated needles and surgery and anything that meant a trip to the doctor. Especially when that doctor was a dentist. It didn’t matter that your tooth hurt so bad that even now you were holding an ice pack that you’d nabbed from the school nurse against your cheek. You hated dentists, “she said they’ll call me when it’s my turn.”

“Well we’re the only ones in here so I can’t imagine that’ll take too long.” Kiara replied, reaching over to put a hand on your knee, “it’ll be okay, I’m right here.”

“I’m just freaking out.” You replied, glancing over to JJ, Pope, and John B, all huddled over coloring pages with crayons spilled out in the middle of the table, “I wish I could be that chill.”

“How’s your tooth feeling?” She asked, glancing their way before turning to you again, sympathetic smile on her face. She’d been the first one to realize that there was something wrong with your tooth.

“Like it’s trying to murder me.” You replied, slumping over slightly in the chair. Kiara pouted at you and put her hand on your back, rubbing in small circles.

The door by the counter opened and a nurse came out, calling your name into the small waiting room that was empty aside from your friends. When all five of you looked up at the same time she looked a little startled.

“Can I bring someone back?” You asked, getting up.

“Only one person.” She replied, eyeing the three boys drawing at the table, “this isn’t an afterschool hang out.”

“We’re here for moral support.” JJ said, winking at you.

You glared at him in return. All three boys knew about your crush on Kiara and had tagged along with the intention of watching you hopped up on laughing gas and uninhibited. Even Pope had been joking about you being all crazy like people always seemed in videos on youtube.

“That’s fine, just,” you pointed to Kiara and she got up, coming over to you.

“Alright, follow me.”

You walked back into the dentist’s exam room, Kiara slipping her hand into yours encouragingly and squeezing. You hated the dentist as it was and if your tooth wasn’t impacted you would have kept all your wisdom teeth in.

You weren’t exactly sure what length of time actually passed between you being led back to get your wisdom teeth out and the dentist sending you back out, five teeth, because your molar had to come out too, in a tiny plastic container. Despite the anxiety you had before and the pain you were in, you came out smiling, Kiara’s hands on your waist as she walked behind you.

“She almost walked into the bathroom door.” Kiara explained as John B, Pope, and JJ stood up to meet you both. “I’m gonna sign her out.”

You were passed from Kiara to John B, who wrapped his arm around your waist as you hugged him. “Hi!”

“Hey, how you feeling?”

“Look,” you held the little plastic container up and rattled it around, bobbing your head as if there was some kind of beat to the sound.

“She made her teeth into a maraca.” Kiara mentioned, looking back at the four of you as she signed you out.

“That’s definitely some serial killer shit.” JJ replied, grabbing your bag off the floor and heading towards the door, John B maneuvering the two of you to follow him.

“Where are we going?” You asked, suddenly concerned, twisting your body to see Kiara.

“We’re going outside.”

“What about Kie?”

“I’m right behind you, promise.” Kiara called, grabbing her stuff and following Pope out of the little house. “Are we headed back to the Chateau?” She asked as she walked around to the driver’s side of her suv.

When John B tried to put you in the backseat with JJ and Pope you protested, calling out shotgun. “I wanna sit next to Kie.”

“Okay, okay, we’re sitting you up front.” He promised opening the door and helping you in.

You leaned against the seat, laying your head on the headrest and turning to look at Kiara as she started the car and backed up into the road. “You’re so pretty.” You mused, drugs in full effect, killing whatever filter you would have usually had.

JJ leaned over enough to smack John B’s arm as Pope started filming the two of you.

“Thanks.” Kiara laughed, “you’re pretty too.”

“Do you really mean it?” You asked, looking a little teary eyed.

“Yeah of course, you’re super pretty.”

You smiled, leaning a little closer to her and just watching her for a minute before opening your mouth again, more damning information coming out. “I like you.”

Kiara looked back at the three boys through the rearview mirror before glancing over at you, unsure exactly what was happening right now. “I like you too.”

“Really?” You seemed even more moved by the idea that she also liked you and Kiara nodded.

“Yeah of course, you’re my best friend.”

You groaned, rolling your head against the headrest momentarily before turning back to her, “no, not like that. Not like friends. I like you so much, you’re so pretty and I just want to go on dates with you and kiss you and love you.” You confessed. “When we went swimming last week and you had the green bathing suit and you looked so pretty and I was just like...what if we were girlfriends.”

“Uh...” Kiara stopped the car at a stop sign, idling for longer than necessary as she fought the urge to look over at you, no doubt smiling at her like you had been since you got doped up, trying to process exactly what you’d just said to her.

“Any response there Kie?” John B asked, trying not to laugh as he leaned toward the driver’s seat.

“I think we should talk about this when you’re feeling a little less foggy.” She finally said, chancing a look over at you. She had been thrilled when you asked her to go with you into the dentist’s, as crazy as that sounded. But she got excited whenever you relied on her for something or asked her opinion or included her in something personal. She knew you were friends but it was always easy to pretend that it was something a little more than that. Hearing you say that you wanted to be her girlfriend had erupted an entire colony of butterflies in her stomach though she hadn’t quite envisioned this as the venue where you confessed your feelings.

“I’m not foggy...I’ve never been clearer.” You replied though she had trouble believing that considering your trouble walking down the stairs.

“She’s never been clearer.” JJ chimed in.

Kiara twisted in her seat, ready to tell the three of them that they could walk back to the Chateau if they didn’t shut up when a car pulled up behind her and beeped.

“Sorry dude, we’re having a friends to lovers moment!” JJ shouted out the window.

“I will come back there!” Kiara threatened as you giggled. The car behind them pulled around, slamming on their horn the whole time before finally throwing back the middle finger as they sped off.

“Some people man,” Pope muttered and Kiara glared at him as well.

“Why don’t we talk when we get to John B’s?” She offered, looking over at you.

“Why?” You asked, “you don’t like me? Are you gonna break up with me?”

“We’re not dating yet.”

“She said yet.” John B pointed out, smacking your shoulder like you were even coherent enough to understand the implication.

“Okay, I am driving this car the rest of the way and if any of you distracts me I will kick you out.” Kiara announced, turning back around to face the front and taking the car out of park to continue driving on. “We will talk at John B’s.”

“Okay.” You twisted in your seat, leaning against the backrest as smiling at her as you watched her drive.

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willow-salix · 4 years ago

Text

Fluffember prompt: Feathers (vaguely, and with a dash of Rainbow)

Day 13 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

“OK, who threw that pencil at me?” Scott demanded to know. No one owned up. Honestly I didn’t even see where it had come from let alone who threw it.

“No clue,” I answered.

“I’m gonna find out,” he growled. “I could have been badly hurt!”

I sniggered to myself, for a real life action hero Scott could be so dramatic sometimes, and didn’t bother looking up from the latest copy of ‘Better Gnomes and Gardens: Witches Weekly’ that I was flicking through.

“Seriously, that could have taken my eye out, it’s like a miniature stake,” he continued to grumble.

“Talking of stakes,” I started, trying to distract him so that he didn’t go off on a ranting tangent about the danger of flying pencil projectiles, “there’s been a development with the Highgate Vampire, he’s been spotted again. Seriously, what more can this crazy year throw at us? Don’t answer that,” I warned John before he could even utter a word. I know my boy and I know that he was about to throw out some highly logical statistic or another that would make complete sense but would make me want to cry.

“Highgate Vampire?” Scott asked, distracted as I'd hoped he would be. My evil plan had worked. I turned my magazine to show him the article. “You remember, when we tried out that new ka- pub,” I corrected myself, aware of just how many of his brothers were crowded around. “We walked past the cemetery and I told you all about the legend of the Highgate Vampire.”

Scott looked blank, which is a look I’m used to seeing on him, I gotta be honest, he barely ever listens to me. “You know, I told you the story of how, back in the 1970’s a group of ghost hunters decided to try to find a vampire that supposedly lived there?”

He shook his head.

“Self appointed bishop vampire hunter dude?” I tried again.

“Oh, yes! I remember him. He’s back?”

"Who?"

"The Bishop."

"No, he's dead, the vampire."

"The vampire killed him?"

"The Bishop is dead of natural causes, and the vampire has been seen again," John supplied.

“Yes," I agreed." Apparently so, and they’re blaming him for this virus outbreak.”

Everyone went quiet for a second, not sure what to say to that. John reached out a hand and I passed over the magazine so he could read it for himself.

“Why do you read this rubbish?” he asked after perusing the rest of its offerings.

“Why wouldn’t I want to know that blue aliens brought Elvis into that lady’s garden?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he told me honestly, handing the magazine back to me.

“Do you remember that time that Virgil thought he was a vampire?” Scott suddenly asked him.

“Oh, God, yes. I hadn’t thought of that in years,” John laughed.

“Wait? He what now? There were vampires involved? Why was I never told about this? This is my one area of expertise and you've been holding out on me?”

“I did not think I was a vampire,” Virgil corrected them. “Our high school math teacher did.”

I tossed the magazine aside, this was far more entertaining than anything I’d find in there.

“Spill,” I demanded.

“It’s really not that interesting a story,” Virgil insisted, trying valiantly to deflect us.

“He was a sophomore, so about fifteen years old,” Scott started, dodging out of the way when Virgil threw a pen at him this time. Scott narrowed his eyes, like he wasn’t sure if that was proof that he had been the perpetrator of the pencil or not. Virgil, for his part, looked innocent. Pen, what pen? I saw no pen? What even is a pen? Isn’t that something you put pigs in?

“And he had to have two of his back teeth out due to overcrowding,” John continued, grabbing me and yanking me onto his lap, using me as a human shield when Virgil lifted his sketch pad threateningly.

“I’m so glad I married such a brave rescuer,” I deadpanned as John continued to hide behind me. "My hero."

“I was driving him back from the dentist and he was still a little out of it from the sedation they had given him,” Scott took up the tale.

“I’m just not a big fan of the dentist, OK?” Virgil defended himself. "They have to sedate me."

“His gums were still bleeding and he’d spat the gauze out within a minute of getting out of there,” John continued, ducking back behind me when Virgil glared at him.

“They’re going to tell it anyway,” I told him, “so why don’t you do it instead?”

Virgil nodded, seeing the wiseness in my words.

“My gums were bleeding but I didn’t know what to do with it all, I didn’t want to swallow it and to be honest, I was still pretty woozy, so I just kinda let the blood collect in my mouth.”

“Aww, that must have sucked, babe, I’m sorry.”

He nodded at me in thanks for my sympathy, something he was NOT getting from his brothers.

“We stopped at some lights and by that point my mouth was getting pretty full-”

“He was drooling like Alan at nap time,” Scott butted in.

“Did you not give him a tissue or something?”

“No, he was evil.”

“I was driving and I don’t carry things like that on me as standard,” Scott argued.

“I’ll pick you up if anything like that happens again,” I promised the big guy. “For girls our cars are like an extension of our house or our handbags, there's tissues, lip balms, snacks, bottles of water, everything.”

“Thank you,” Virgil sniffed, casting Scott a smug look, knowing I was firmly on his side.

“So, how is this vampire related?” I had to ask, I mean, I was sympathetic but I was also nosey as hell.

“I wound down the window as we stopped at the light,” Virgil continued. “And I...well, I was still a bit muddled…”

“He opened his mouth and all this blood came oozing out, it just dribbled everywhere,” Scott practically yelled, bursting out laughing.

“Why are you laughing, you evil thing?”

“Because,” John piped up from behind the shelter of my person, “the car next to Scott’s was Mrs Beddleman’s. Virgil, recognising her, breaks out into this wide, goofy and completely bloody, smile.”

“She looked absolutely horrified and even though she wasn’t going that direction she turned right to get away from us. She was a very religious lady and she took to wearing a cross to school for the rest of the year until I left her class.”

“And she moved his seat to one beside the window,” Scott howled, doubled over laughing.

I bit my lip, trying very hard not to laugh.

“It’s OK,” Virgil sighed, “you can laugh.”

“I don’t want to,” I told him as seriously as I could. “But I really don’t think I can help it.”

I made the fatal mistake then, I glanced at Scott who was at the point of silently laughing, his body shaking and I cracked.

“It’s not like I’m the only one that had bad anesthesia reactions,” Virgil said slyly and I snapped to attention.

“Are you not?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, grinning now. “We’ve all had broken bones and hospital stays over the years.”

“Oh, oh, tell me a Scott one!”

“He had an appendectomy when he was twenty. He was taken in for day surgery and when he woke up he was completely coherent,” Virgil started.

“He was?” Knocked out Scott had to be different to sedated Scott, because sedated Scott was hilarious and very snuggly.

“What can I say, I have a strong constitution,” Scott preened.

“He’s lying,” Virgil continued. “He was talking normally, answering questions and the doctor said he was doing great and could go. He was starving, hadn't eaten since the night before and he insisted that the only thing he would eat was Chinese food, and it had to be a buffet, nothing else would do."

"I mean, he's not wrong, there is nothing like a good Chinese," I agreed.

"Well, it appeared that he hadn't been as recovered as we thought he was."

"What happened?"

"I came round from the anesthesia sitting in the restaurant and as far as I knew I'd just gone under in the operating room and I'd woken up with a plate of chicken teriyaki on a stick in front of me."

John sniggered, muffling his laughter against my shoulder.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Scott huffed. “Have you forgotten about when you had your tonsillectomy?”

“That was not my fault,” John mumbled, clearly regretting his previous amusement.

“Oh gods, what did you do?” I asked him, turning my head to look at him over my shoulder.

“Nothing! I was just talking to the anesthesiologist.”

“The anesthesiologist was new to the hospital so hadn’t met any of us before,” Virgil started.

“Do I take it that you all had frequent user passes? Like buy ten ops and get the eleventh free?”

“Pretty much,” Scott shrugged, unashamed of just how bad that sounded. “So John’s there, being himself, talking to the surgeon and anesthesiologist about the operation and what they were planning, how long it would take, telling them what they needed to do, that sort of thing-”

“I like to know what to expect,” John defended himself.

“Swot,” Gordon teased, coming in at the tail end of John’s mini rant, Alan trailing along behind him.

“It’s not a bad thing to want to go into a situation with full knowledge of it. Research and a game plan are only sensible. How do you expect to get good at something if you don’t know the mechanics behind it?” He glanced around at his brothers who looked less than convinced. “You know you’ve all been grateful for my expertise more than once.”

“I know I have,” I agreed, ignoring the raised eyebrows that came my way. Let them think dirty things, that was their problem. I received a small kiss to the side of my neck thanks for my support so I’m not going to complain.

“So, what were you guys talking about?” Gordon asked, flopping down on the couch beside Virgil.

“They were sharing with me their tales of woe under the effects of anesthesia and sedation,” I informed him.

“Oh, yes, we’ve all got those,” Gordon agreed. “Which one was John telling?”

“The time when he had his tonsils removed,” Scott helpfully supplied.

“I don’t remember it,” Gordon frowned.

“Neither do I,” Alan added.

“He was talking to the anesthetist, we got that far,” I said.

“He was talking to him as they were asking him to count down from a hundred,” Virgil continued.

“I only remember getting to ninety-one,” John told me.

“We were outside in the relatives room, waiting for him to be taken to recovery,” Scott took up the tale. “We had only been in there about fifteen minutes when the anesthesiologist and a nurse came out looking like they had seen a ghost.”

“Dad stepped up and demanded to know what the problem was and if John was OK,” Virgil said. “It turned out that John had been far more coherent than he remembered and hadn’t stopped counting at ninety-one.”

“He’d gotten to sixty-two but when he reached eighty-nine he’d apparently switched to fluent Japanese, and then started talking about a wakizashi, that and asking them about their day.”

“A what now?”

“A small, fourteenth century Japanese sword,” John supplied.

“The anesthesiologist was actually Japanese and he had apparently called three of his peers in the ten minutes that John had been under to ask how it was possible that this Caucasian, american teenager was suddenly speaking in fluent Japanese under the influence or anesthesia.”

“It took Dad a good five minutes of solid laughter to finally tell them that they hadn’t broken John or damaged his brain in any way, he was actually fluent already,” Scott laughed.

“Apparently he gave them the biggest scare they had ever had in more than twenty years,” Virgil finished.

“I was obviously being considerate and had thought that it was more polite to talk to him in his own language rather than English,” John sniffed, crossing his arms around my waist. “I don’t see what the big deal was.”

“I’m just impressed that you were speaking it fluently at all,” I said, earning a gentle finger flick as punishment for ever doubting him. “I meant that I can only speak three languages fluently, English, bad English and Sarcasm, so anyone that can do anything else is just amazing to me,” I quickly defended myself.

“Sarcasm is your native tongue,” John mumbled. I ignored him.

“He’s mostly self taught too,” Scott added, showing that, despite how much time they all spend teasing each other, they are always proud of their siblings.

“I used to watch a lot of foreign films and TV shows to pick up the pronunciation and read a lot of graphic novels and translated books to learn how to read and write,” John elaborated. “It’s a very effective way to learn and I apparently have a gift for languages.”

“As well as many other things,” I added to be nice. “Any other stories I need to know?”

“When Gordon was having one of his back surgeries they told him that they had to strap him down and when he asked why they told him it was so he wouldn’t fall off the table and he said ‘It’s OK, five second rule’,” Scott told me.

“‘Cause I'm a snacc,” Gordon added with a grin. “Apparently I also woke up with a violent jolt and when I was asked if I was OK I apologised to the nurse and told her that I thought I was a shark.”

“You also started a joke with the nurse as you went under and finished it the moment you woke up with no prompting,” Virgil laughed.

I clapped enthusiastically for that one and Gordon bowed modestly.

“What about me?” Alan asked, finding the whole thing highly amusing.

“You’ve only been under once but you were hilarious in both the things you said,” John answered. “You apparently woke up screaming ‘Where are my wings? I want my wings? You stole my feathers you jerk! You were only supposed to take my tonsils!’ and then passed right out again.”

Gordon cracked up laughing, as did everyone else including Alan.

“You then woke up again and asked how long until the anesthetic kicked in, and when the nurse told you it was all done and had actually been two hours you yelled in her face ‘WOAH, DID I JUST TIME TRAVEL?’” John finished.

“That’s so precious,” I cooed, because Alan is adorable in everything he does regardless of what it is.

“We have a lot of stories like that,” Virgil said, “we sometimes have to give pain relief or sedate someone who is freaking out and they do the weirdest stuff.”

“They do? Is there some kind of hippocratic oath that you guys have to swear or can you tell me some?”

“No oath,” they assured me.

“One woman grabbed Virgil’s hand, stuck her fingers up in his sleeve, stroked his arm and said ‘You’d make a great carpet’,” Gordon told me.

“It’s not uncommon for people to feel stressed and unsure of where they are,” Scott continued, “they often wake up screaming or panicking, but we delivered one guy to the hospital who’d had a pretty nasty bang to the head and broken an arm. We were unable to calm him down so we had to sedate him so he wouldn’t do any more damage. He woke up as we were transferring him to the hospital gurney and he hopped off before we could catch him, pulled his pants down with his good arm and started to helicopter right there outside the hospital.”

That broke me, I’m sorry to say. I might proclaim to be far more mature than these idiots and not find fart jokes and the like amusing, but the mental image of this guy, standing there, twirling...I just couldn’t stop.

“One girl asked us if we were single and we didn’t answer and deflected by asking her if she had a boyfriend or girlfriend and she started crying that she just wanted a dog.”

“Remember that young boy who meowed the entire way to the hospital?”

“And that one lady that was really nervous so we told her to think of something nice and she started singing ‘I wish you a merry Christmas,’ but it was July!”

“And the one that said she wanted us to drop her off at the top of a rainbow so she could slide down it?”

“And the guy that woke up when we landed, looked right at Kayo and said as loudly as he could ‘Look! The love of my life! Don’t leave me, I can change!’”

“And that one guy who knocked out a few teeth and spat out the gauze we packed his mouth with and started freaking out crying ‘was that my liver? Nooo, my liver! I need that! Get back in you!’”

“A woman lost a couple of teeth too and was crying about being ugly. We gave her some pain relief and she was so hazy that, when we handed her over to the doctor and gave him her teeth she started screaming at him... what was it she said, John? You heard it over the comms and were laughing so hard.”

“She yelled, ‘Charlatan! I demand you return my teeth! They are mine and I will choose how they are to be spent!’”

I cracked up at that, mostly the way John told it, which I assume was the same way she had, like a plummy Victorian aristocrat that had just been insulted.

“And that teen who said ‘hey, mister, my ass itches and I’m too high to scratch it.”

“Oh, that’s pure gold,” I laughed, wiping my eyes because I was laughing so hard.

“What about you?” Alan asked me. “Have you ever done anything weird?”

“Only every day of my life.”

“I meant under sedation.”

“Oh, yeah, not really,” I shrugged. “I know that when I had teeth out once, after napping on the couch for a few hours I suddenly sat up and announced that I needed to make Mum a cup of tea. She told me I didn’t need to but I said she was my guest and I had to be polite or she’d leave me alone to die. There was no arguing with me so I got up, went to the kitchen and came back and gave her a mug of cold water with a spoon in it. I apparently said ‘drink up, luv,’ like a really bad impression of Parker and face planted the couch and passed out again. Mum made her own tea after that.”

That got a fair few sniggers and Scott threatening to take away my British card for screwing up tea so badly.

“I have to ask,” I said conspiratorially once everyone had calmed down, “has Kayo ever done anything like this?”

They all looked around, as if scared that she might be listening, then eventually Virgil nodded.

“She came round from her knee surgery after she dislocated it and insisted on trying to get out of bed. The nurse told her she had to stay put as they had just fixed her knee and it needed time to heal. She answered in the most confident, how dare you try to stop me way and informed the nurse that she was a ninja and that they heal three times faster than normal people. The nurse let her try and she dropped face first.”

Honestly, out of all the stories I’ve heard today, that one was the best. It’s nice to know that even the most capable and sometimes terrifying of us isn’t always perfect.

#thunderbirds are go #Isolation Island #Thunderbirds in isolation #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 144: Hermione's Helping Hand

The room was a very dangerous landing, each of them got a book to the head no matter where they landed. Frank was on a flaming red comforter on the bed with a dog eared copy, the title so faded he hadn't a hope of recognizing it until he flipped through a few pages, and even then did not follow the Muggle story.* Alice had a heavy tomb smash so hard against her forehead she saw stars, and it was over a copy of some muggle thing to do with the human anatomy a Healer would struggle to follow.

Lily groaned miserably as she removed a book on alchemy from her face, and Potter's glasses had broken where he'd faced planted a window with an interesting view of a Muggle neighborhood and still had a book on the windowsill crack a lens he couldn't even read the title of now.

Peter had to pull himself out from a whole pile of books, on top of which was Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard, and Regulus even found one on teeth he had to dislodge from his own.

Remus landed painfully on a desk, the book losing its place as the bookmark toppled out of sight he felt bad for, and Sirius even found a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages to his distaste for the first time in his life as he pulled it from where it had whacked his ear.

The silver book itself they were all supposed to be here for sat in the middle of the room with the air of innocence. For once.

"As if we haven't been traumatized by enough books already," James sighed as he tapped his glasses to fix them.

"If this room isn't Hermione's, then I'll kiss a centaur," Sirius happily informed the room at large.

"Brilliant deduction there," Lily rolled her eyes, but there was only amusement in her voice. "Did you figure that out before or after this?" She was holding a picture of Hermione in this very room, a still image of her sitting at this very desk with Crookshank's in her lap, the sun just visible on the horizon from the window.

The walls didn't house much decoration, it was simple yet charming to see so much of her personality packed into the comfortably sized room.

"The best part is, I bet this is only a quarter of the ones she owns," James grinned. "She takes most of them with her to school!"

Sirius laughed and Lily found herself smiling in agreement as Lupin tried the door, which mercifully opened. The others scattered about the house, some for the loo, some for the kitchen. Sirius made to do the latter, but lingered in the door jam to watch in fascination as Prongs hesitated, and then turned back to Evans.

There was a reluctance in him he'd seen a few times now, and he had a very good guess why James was suddenly so hesitant to engage with her. He'd been devastated by the news of Sirius' death, arguably more than him even, and it wasn't hard to follow his logic if he had to change something to keep it from happening it would be taking Harry out of the equation via her. He wished his brother wouldn't think like that, but he'd never liked Evans much himself to understand his fascination with her and so wasn't even sure how to urge him back.

When James turned back holding in whatever he'd been about to say though, Lily startled them both by asking, "so, do you know what a dentist is?" The tone was mild, maybe a little mocking, but she was now holding the book Regulus had spat out with a curious smile.

He would have expected James, as usual, to not actually know how to respond to her when she spoke like a normal human being. Instead he hesitated with an odd smile in place and said casually, "not really, but I got the idea. Teeth and such, Muggles need them cared for without a spell."

Prongs hesitated again, some torn expression lingering, before he softly asked as if speaking of her ill coming death, "how come you never took Care of Magical Creatures?"

Sirius snorted fantastically, earning a dirty look from both of them. He raised his hands in surrender and took a step back into the hall, where Remus came up and pulled on him out of sight. James turned back to watching her, still unsure if he should have asked. She'd gotten assurances on their first day from McGonagall, Flitwick, and Slughorn all the creatures came to no harm for their classes to commence. He'd watched her love of animals long after that, she'd taken to cuddling with every cat in the common room and watched the birds deliver post every morning despite receiving none of her own long after other Muggle-borns grew used to it, but that look of awe and longing lingered in her.

Just because he'd given up on the idea of her didn't mean he couldn't still learn more about her, right? It was something he'd wanted to know for years but obviously she'd never have answered before. Maybe if he tried without the flirting he'd get a better result.

And, it worked. She went a little red, but answered casually, "I was trying to prove something, to my parents, to Snape, myself. Taking Arithmancy and Runes, the harder and more difficult classes. I regret it a bit now."

Potter watched her, absolutely fascinated by her little speech it seemed. She kept waiting for that to wear off now that she was actually trying to talk to him on a regular basis, but it didn't seem to be happening.

"You can take it come NEWT year if you want," he told her, that damnable cheerful smile creeping back now as they managed the first casual conversation of their life. "Remus will lend you his notes for the OWL's next week if you want."

She laughed in surprise, then realized he wasn't joking. He really thought she was that smart she could take a class she hadn't been in for two years? "I'll, ah, take that into consideration," she tried to shrug.

He hesitated, seemed to decide he'd pushed her enough, and then finally left. He'd gotten her to laugh, that was more of an accomplishment he'd managed in his life already! He glanced the way two of his friends went, rolled his eyes, and called towards the kitchen, "hey Alice, want to show me how a muggle stove works!"

Lily blanched in fear of him burning the house down and snatched up the actual needed book, not bothering to pretend to herself she was smiling as she followed along and cracked it open, but paused to take in the rest.

The hallway was littered with cheerful hallmark signs such as 'Love, Life, Live,' and several more of Hermione through the years, but Lily kept watching the muggle photos despite the fact that they weren't moving in mild curiosity for several moments before it occurred to her why they seemed a little odd. Hermione was alone in each of them, smiling brightly, but the only one in focus. Not only no friends hanging off her arm in her primary years as she held up spelling awards and science fair projects, but her parents didn't seem in any of them either. One particularly telling one was a candid shot of a very young Hermione sitting in an empty waiting room, reading a book far too big for her lap. Only when she got to the very end of most recent photos hinted at who could have been there all these years, and it was an extremely elder lady, possibly her grandmother or even a nanny, the photo at such an angle it was clearly taken by her as well as she stood shoulder to shoulder with Hermione. The tender look of love in the older woman's eyes only leveled with the weary exhaustion in the folds of her skin. Beneath that was a hand drawn calligraphy plaque with the year and date, but no other sort of explanation except her socially awkward behavior from back at the first book.

The kitchen seemed to double as a study, there were heavy journals on multiple surfaces, Frank was flipping curiously through one that was ear marked with dates, names, and what the appointment was going to be for, another that Regulus was prodding his wand along curiously through every page seemed to house lots of studies and practices on how Hermione's parents could improve their work. She doubted he followed a word, even she probably couldn't.

The chapter title itself was unsurprising, and she went through it still laughing it was all about Harry's first act as Captain sorting out members of his team, indeed with Hermione's help. Wasn't this just a day of surprises.

Potter continued to rank highest of all in that regards. The look on his face when he found out what Hermione did was priceless.

The reason behind it she misunderstood.

"She cheated? On Quidditch! I'd expect this girl to snog Snape before I heard her do something like this!"

"She did set Snape on fire once during a game." Alice happily reminded as she swatted his hand away from the hot surface, again. He seemed to keep forgetting despite the red light and heat waves coming up from the innocent black circle. "Guess her bar goes out the window during sports," she finished with a giggle.

His flummoxed expression still seemed at war if he should be impressed or agitated at this, while Regulus was snickering relentlessly for the show as well as he said, "I thought it was brilliant, as if I want to sit around hearing about that McLaggen's temper for the games, he'll ruin what little fun we've been getting out of these."

His eyes tracked curiously as he seemed to realize his brother wasn't in here to give his opinion, but seemed distracted enough when Peter spoke, "think of it this way, you or Padfoot would have done it to some arse in the hallway if he was really saying half that shite. Does the location matter that much?"

"I mean, yes," he pouted, but if anything he looked more confused. "Quidditch shouldn't be trifled with," he finished with a hint of defiance, but eventually sighed and turned back to turning the stove on and off with the odd switch and all the numbers while she finished.

Remus let his fingers brush against Sirius' and subtly pulled his fingers before letting go. Sirius needed no further prompting before following him out of the room into what must be Hermione's parents room. Remus didn't care as he locked the door and then hugged Sirius.

He laughed in delight, immediately returning it as he said quietly into his neck, "I'm getting whiplash from you."

"I just wanted to make sure you know I'm grateful," Remus told him as he pulled back, having to remind himself not to let his hands linger. "For not beating Frank's face into a pulp, back in the apothecary," he elaborated.

The fact that Sirius never held his mood swings against him or even ever accused him of being moody because of the full moon made him wish he could snog his face off right about now. Merlin, James had barely been involved and he'd called him on being an emotional ass!

"Oh," Sirius' face did not settle into a promising expression, barely concealed anger still there, but he made such a valiant effort to push it back away Remus had to fight back the urge to kiss him again. "Right, you're welcome. If he had done it on purpose though, I can't say I'd have been able to stop myself." Moony and Prongs had made a valid point, better Longbottom occasionally forget the dangers than continue being a racist arse, but his point still stood there was a middle ground that wouldn't put Remus in pain! The Marauders all knew it, couldn't he?!

Remus really couldn't resist and let his hand brush along his cheek and settle down on his neck as he gazed into his eyes. Sirius hummed as always at the physical affection. Remus could have hugged him back in the apothecary and not been an arse about this too! This really would just have to be enough for him, he could never ask for better friends. He reluctantly let his hand drop back away with one more whispered thanks.

Sirius looked hurt though, to Remus' confusion. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?" He denied, he really hadn't thought Sirius would realize he was starting to back off yet, as much else as he was dealing with.

"Remus, you've barely looked at me since the polyjuice prank," Sirius finally called his crap. "So if you're not mad at me, would you please say so?"

"I'm not," Remus instantly promised. Merlin if he was mad at Sirius for every stupid prank he'd never not be enraged at this one. "I'm, mad at myself." He finally reluctantly admitted.

Sirius' face clouded with concern. Even on top of dealing with James, Peter, and Regulus at once Padfoot hadn't once tried to cope a field on him for some fun away from them while in this room, and a traitorous bubble of hope still lingered in Remus' chest this could mean more to Sirius. They were just friends with benefits, he instantly reminded himself. Friends! Of course he cares, you know he does.

"Anything I can do to help?" Sirius was even the one to reach for his hand, their fingers naturally intertwining.

"It's, Harry," he finally gave a half truth, which was still a truth that the book provided. He couldn't believe he'd only been back in Prongs's kids life once so far this year with Sirius out of the picture. "Not even writing to him, I'm just, this future- I don't want to stop-" He stopped himself quickly before something stupid came out. 'Being there for you,' probably sounded way too intimate to Padfoot. Maybe if he'd actually been around Sirius during that awful Ministry fight he would have come back out of it and none of this would be thrown in their face so repeatedly!

What kind of heartless monster couldn't do the bare minimum to look after one of his best friends kids anyways? And he was complaining Sirius wasn't ready for more, he clearly wasn't capable of it either.

Sirius had such a beautiful smile, and one he so rarely showed anyone. A smirk, his teasing grin were all anyone but the Marauders ever got to see, and Remus drank his fill in now as Padfoot squeezed his fingers while mimicking as well, tracing his cheek before letting his hand rest on his neck as they naturally mirrored each other. Remus wouldn't dream of denying he instantly felt warm and assured as he leaned into the touch even before Sirius told, "this future's a mess Moony. Don't kick yourself about this poor kids life we have no control over. We'll find a way to fix this."

He spoke with such assurance it's like they should have heard the very words Evans was reading change to match. Remus was convinced Sirius could hypnotize the moon to never be full again in that moment as he leaned in and kissed him.

It was just sweet, and gentle. There was no randiness in either of them, just a silent promise as Remus leaned back that no matter what, his words would be true.

HPHPHPHP

*Let me know what you think Hermione's favorite book is. I personally always thought it was Sherlock Holmes.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #Hermione's Home #HP #HBP #Marauders #Wolfstar #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Evans #Peter Pettigrew #Regulus Black #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith

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waywardnerd67 · 4 years ago

Text

Spiraling

Summary: If something could go wrong in (Y/N)’s life then it did. Now she is on the verge of spiraling out of control. In her darkest moment, a hero will come to save her and set her on the path she was always meant to be on. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff/Self-hate Talk/Talk of Suicide Word Count: 5040 A/N: The last couple of months have been hard so this is my way of dealing with it. A lot of the details are from actual things going on in my life, but I’ve changed the specifics for storytelling purposes.

“Your cat needs emergency surgery to save her life. In order for us to proceed we need a down payment of $1500 and then the remaining $600 once she can go home.”

“Your starter is bad. You have a battery cable that is carotid. Plus we found that there is a leak in your head gasket and it will need to be replaced immediately. All together parts, labor and tax it will total $4976.”

“Effective Immediately: New Management. Your apartment complex is now under the management of Lindchest LLC. Your rent will go up starting November 2020 to $750 per month. There will be an additional pet deposit of $200 per pet and pet rent of $25 per pet. You will need to log on to our Tenant Portal to sign your lease within twenty-four hours or vacate your unit.”

I read the flyer that was haphazardly tape to my door once more. Looking down to Serenity, my cat with the $2100 bladder sighing, “Looks like you need to get a job.”

I unpacked my laptop letting it wake up only to discover that my internet was not working. I picked up my phone calling the all too familiar number.

“I’m sorry Ms. (Y/L/N), but it looks like there is a major outage in your area due to construction. We don’t have a timeframe of when it will be back up.”

I ended the call flopping down onto my couch, “I would love for one, just one, thing to go my way.”

The last month has been challenging between vet bills, my car being an oversized paper weight and my rent going up one hundred and seventy-five dollars plus two hundred dollar deposit. I did not think anything else could possibly go wrong until I arrived at work the next morning.

“Hey (Y/N), can we meet in my office?” my boss waved his hand for me to follow him.

A sinking feeling settled onto my chest as he asked me to close the door behind him, “I know we’ve had this conversation before, but your attendance.”

Tears welled up beneath my eyelids, but I held them back as he continued, “I know we’re trying to be cautious with COVID, but you’ve already been out sick quite a bit already.”

“I know I was, but my doctor recommended for me to stay out since I had more than half the symptoms of COVID.” My voice quivered at the end as my protective wall was crumbling.

He leant forward on his desk, “I know, but then it was your car issues and now you have a dentist appointment tomorrow morning that you just came to me about this morning. I just want to set up some firm guidelines for you using your time off from here on out. I would also like to see you come in for ninety days straight. (Y/N), you do a great job here, but you actually have to be here to do the job.”

“I know. I can reschedule my appointment for tomorrow and I will work with any guidelines you give me. I’m sorry about my attendance. I love my job and I love coming to work.” I was pleading as a wayward tear slipped down my cheek.

“I never once questioned that. We will work through this together. No need to reschedule your appointment since I approved it already. Going forward I will need at least one week's notice for you to use vacation days, forty-eight hours notice to use your personal days and twenty-four hours notice for your sick days.”

I nodded my agreement not trusting that I could hold the burning sob in my chest from bursting through. I left his office and spent the rest of my day in a complete daze. I drove home in the same daze only to have another flyer on my door from the new management.

“We Missed You! Dear Tenant, we entered your apartment today to make an assessment of it. We have found the following things broken, worn and in need of repair. Since this was not properly taken care of, you will be responsible for all repairs and they will need to be scheduled for completion within one week’s time. Please log on to your Tenant Portal to schedule this as soon as possible. Thank you, Lindchest, LLC”

I caught the edge of my kitchen counter as my legs gave out. The list of repairs was more than what I was renting the place for. I managed to get myself to my bedroom and landed face first on the mattress. Freely the tears flowed down my face and my body shook as overwhelming sorrow ran through her.

Serenity butted her head up against mine, “Hi baby. I’m sorry your mommy is a screw up. Would you want to go live with you grandma?”

She snuggled against my arm purring. My body relaxed as I continued to pet her and listen to her purring until finally I drifted off to sleep. Dreams of a better life tormented me throughout the night. The next morning, would solidify my darkest thoughts into a plan of action as the last bit of bad news I could take happened.

“We will need to extract two molars and all four wisdom teeth. I will refer you to an oral surgeon who can get you scheduled right away. After insurance, you’re probably looking at $1500 to $2000 for everything. You will have to provide fifty percent of the total at the time of service and then I’m sure they could work payments out for you.”

I took a deep breath, “Okay. If you could give me the information I will schedule it. I also need a note for my employer for today’s appointment.”

As I sat in the chair waiting for the dental assistant to come back my inner self yelled loudly.

“You are nothing in this world. You are providing nothing and only taking resources away from everyone. Serenity would be taken care of by your mom. Work will find someone to replace you in a snap. You have no friends. You have no place you can afford to live. I think it’s a sign from up above that now is your time to take matters in your own hands. It’s time to free up your space for someone more deserving. More functional. More worthy.”

“Everything okay?” I looked up to see the assistant holding my papers and I nodded.

I went through the motions of work as my mind was preoccupied of my choices for the evening. Texting my mom, I asked her to watch over Serenity for a while so I could find a new place for us. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary and I as I said goodbye to my co-workers for the evening, I felt peace come over me. Dropping off my cat to my mom, I told her I could not stay since I had plans. On my kitchen table there was one letter addressed to her that would be found when she would come get my things.

I walked a half a mile down to a bridge that was over the river I lived by. The sun had gone down hours ago and now all that was left was for me to finally do something right.

***

Dean Winchester parked his car near the Jefferson Bridge watching as people came and went over it. His brother Sam was flirting with the local librarian, so Dean decided to give him the motel room for the night. He deserved it after all the crap they had gone through. He looked down at his watch, seeing it was coming up at midnight when something caught his eye.

A woman was looking over the wall down to the water. Suddenly he became antsy as he continued to watch her. He got out of his car casually walking towards her so as to not spook her. The cool night breeze blew through her beautiful (Y/C/H) hair. Her body was like a country dirt road with curves for days. His eyes were drifting down her body when she hopped up onto the wall and his heart leaped into his throat.

“Oh no pretty girl, don’t do what I think you’re trying to do.” He whispered as her eyes stayed focused on the water below.

Dean picked up his pace just in time reaching for her as she leapt from the bridge. His hands grasping underneath her arm and at her wrist.

“No! Let me go! Please let me go!” She yelled as I tried to pull her up.

“Sweetheart, trust me, life is not so bad that you should jump off a bridge. Let me help you, please.” He pleaded feeling something deep within him stirring.

She tried to fight against him, but he could feel her losing strength. With one swift move he had her sitting back up on the wall of the bridge. His arm tightly wrapped around her waist as she began to weep.

“No, this is meant to be. I’m not meant to be here. I’m nothing.” She tried to get out of his grasp unsuccessfully.

He pulled her off the wall and carried her to his car, “I’m positive that’s not true. Come on, why don’t I buy you some food and a drink then we can talk about it.”

Her body went rigid, “Why are you being nice to me? You don’t even know me.”

“It’s what I do, sweetheart. I help people who need it no matter what, but if it makes you feel better I’m Dean. Now how about some food and a drink because I’m starving.” He slowly let go of her as she looked down towards the ground.

“(Y/N).” she whispered as she reluctantly, she got in his car sliding across to the passenger side.

Dean drove to the bar nearby his motel glancing over to her every once in a while. Closer now, she was even more beautiful than he originally thought. (Y/N)’s eyes were soft (Y/C/E) and perfect pouty lips. Her body was turned towards her door as she looked out the window but he could imagine himself curling up next to her.

“Let me guess, you’re staying at the Chippewa Motel.” (Y/N) had turned towards him as they pulled into the bar parking lot.

He chuckled, “Yeah, why?”

She let out a soft laugh, “Because those are the only people who go to Sunset Bar.”

For a moment as they got out of the car, Dean’s chest tightened afraid that she would take off. He relaxed when she started walking towards the door and looked behind her to see if he was following. Walking inside, (Y/N) went to the furthest booth in the building. Dean took it upon himself to order them a couple of burgers and beers.

Waiting for their beers, he noticed quite a few men taking an interest in (Y/N). Even red and puffy eyed, she was still catching every man’s eye in the place. Quickly grabbing their beers, he made his way to her staring down every man on the way. He bumped the bottle on her arm motioning for her to move over.

“Thanks.” She muttered, taking a sip and curling herself up on the far end of the bench.

“I wouldn’t normally sit like this with a total stranger, but I think it’s safer for you if I do.” He watched as her eyes followed his widening.

She moved a little closer to him just enough for his fingers to brush against her shoulder, “As much as I don’t want to be a part of this world anymore that is not the way I want to go out.” She waved her bottle out towards the dispersing crowd of men.

“Why do you want to end it all?” His curiosity was getting the best of him.

A beautiful woman like (Y/N) should have everything the world could offer her. Happiness, money, love. His heart skipped at the very word. He pushed it from his mind refocusing on her.

“Have you ever wondered if God was punishing you for something you had no idea you did wrong?” She took a long drag from her bottle and Dean found himself swallowing hard.

“All the freaking time.” He chuckled remembering the recent bombshell that he and Sam were destined to kill one another because of God’s need for a good ending to his story.

She sighed looking up as the bartender brought their food to them. For the first time, (Y/N) genuinely smiled, “Bacon cheeseburgers are my favorite.”

“Mine too.” He smiled back at her before they each took a large bite.

For the next half an hour explaining everything that had gone wrong in her life up until today. From bad decisions, divorce, mental breakdown one and two, loss of jobs, unemployment, her cat, her car, her current job and her tooth. He had to admit the string of bad luck was hard to deny. None of which was a good enough reason to end her life.

When the waitress came for our plates, (Y/N) asked for a glass of water finishing off her beer. I placed my large hand on top hers covering it completely.

“I’m sorry you’ve been through so much and nearly all of it is out of your control. If you could do anything except end your life, what would you do?”

“Well if money was no option then I would grab Serenity and start a new life somewhere far away. Of course, I would keep in contact with my mom, but she would understand me leaving.” She stared off for a moment her face softening at the very thought of leaving.

Before he could stop to think about the words coming from his mouth they were already hitting her delicate ears, “I think I could help you with that.”

“W-What?” Her piercing eyes bore into his with hope, “How could you help me?”

“That is a conversation for a more private place and whiskey.” He chuckled and down the rest of his beer.

Dean started laughing as she practically pushed him out of the booth, “Well come on hero, I know a place that is private enough to talk.”

He threw a few bills down on the table for a tip and allowed (Y/N) to drag him from the bar. She directed him back towards the bridge except this time she pointed to a small, run down apartment complex. He parked next to the car (Y/N) pointed out to be hers, a newer SUV.

“I will deal with you tomorrow.” He pointed to the vehicle giving it a stern look.

Following (Y/N) up the stairs to her little studio apartment, “This is where the hiked up the rent?”

She nodded, “Yeah. At the time, it was the cheapest place to live. You just happen to be in luck that I have a bottle of whiskey stashed away. It’s in the cabinet above the fridge. I’m going to change out of my clothes and freshen up a little.”

Dean watched her disappear behind a room divider and made himself tear his eyes away from watching her gorgeous silhouette. Easily grabbing the bottle and two cups from a local Mexican restaurant he noticed a letter on the table.

“Mom, I know you’re upset. No, I know you’re pissed. I gave up. I didn’t come to you like I promised I would. I couldn’t come to you again with all my problems. I truly believe I was not meant to be in this world and that is why my life has been one shit show after another. I’m taking resources away from this world and not contributing to it. Honestly, everything will move on and you will live out the rest of your life not having to worry about me anymore.

Please take care of Serenity for me. Give her all the hugs and snuggle her extra for me. Mom, this was never your fault and there was nothing you could have done to save me. My mind is made up. The decision was made. I want you to remember what good times there were. I’m sorry for being selfish. I’m sorry for leaving you. Please know I love you very, very much. Goodbye. Love, (Y/N)”

“That wasn’t for you to read.” A small voice brought his eyes from the page but not before a few teardrops could fall onto the page, “You’re crying, why?”

He wiped away the tears falling down his cheeks, “I-I don’t know. I guess reading a suicide note brings out my inner Mr. Sensitivity.”

He tried to give her a sad smile chuckling, but his heart shattering into pieces made it hard too. She took the bottle and cups leading him to the small loveseat. They sat down before downing their first pours of whiskey. The amber liquor burning down his throat and warming his chest. He poured them both another drink before going into his own story.

“My brother and I travel across the country hunting all kinds of… things that go bump in the night.” Dean completely opened up about everything in his life. Carefully watching her every reaction as he spoke and only felt that there was once she wanted to bolt for the door.

“Wait…” she took the bottle and drank from it, “monsters are real?”

He nodded grabbing the bottle for himself, “Yep. Vampires, werewolves, chupacabras.”

Taking a drink, he handed it back to her allowing it all to sink in, “Okay so how does that help me? I’m not interested in hunting monsters or being a monster.”

“Well that’s good because I wouldn’t allow a beautiful woman to become either of those things. I was thinking more along the lines of teaching you how we manage to get unlimited money and then you could move wherever your heart desires. Is that more your speed?”

She nodded, “Now you’re speaking my language. God, it would be amazing to live somewhere remote where I could just write all day long.”

“Well, Sam and I can make that happen for you. We’re probably going to be leaving to head back home in a couple of days. You could travel with us then we could get you all set up and on a plane to all points nowhere, USA.”

Suddenly, (Y/N) launched herself into his arms hugging him tightly, “I can’t thank you enough, Dean.”

His arms wrapped around her and everything felt complete with her, it was strange for him to feel that way. Never once had he ever felt whole but a never ending void deep in his soul that was closing being near her. She pulled away slightly then pressed her lips to his cheek.

***

The next day, Dean had a heated conversation with his brother Sam. Once he was off the phone, he confirmed that I would follow them back to Lebanon, Kansas in my car once he fixed it. He dropped me off at work where everyone noticed the one hundred eighty degree mood change in me. I spent my last hour typing a resignation letter to my boss leaving it on his desk and packing up the few personal items I had.

Dean was waiting for me in the parking lot with his beloved car, “How was work?”

“It was… good. I’m happy to never have to go back to it again though.” He opened the door for me to slide in.

“Dean, would it be okay to stop by my mom’s to get Serenity?” His piercing emerald eyes narrowed for a split second before he smirked.

“Yeah, we can go get the furball.” He chuckled pulling out of the parking lot and leaving that part of me behind us.

I found out that Dean was an amazing liar, but also charming. He won my mom over in a few short minutes as Serenity jumped up onto my lap. I petted her a few times before resting my cheek against the top of her head.

I whispered to her, “Go check him and let me know what you think.”

I watched the shorthair tabby jump off her lap and up onto Dean’s. She sniffed him as he held his hand out to her. His nose began to twitch and she jumped down with a huff before he sneezed.

“Sorry furball, I’m allergic to you.” He sniffled before excusing himself to the bathroom.

Serenity meowed up at me before getting in her crate. The fact she did not hiss was a good sign and I closed her crate up after one last pet.

“So, how did you really meet Dean?” I knew my mom could see right through his story, so I told her the truth, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you should have come to me.”

“I know, but I just couldn’t. I was tired of being a screw up. I gave up.” The last few words were a whisper as my mom got up to sit next to me.

Her arms were around me as tears fell from both of our eyes, “Well I’m glad he saved you. Did you find a place to live?”

I pulled away from her, “Kind of. Dean and his brother are going to help me settle into a new spot. I will call you with all the details.”

I looked up to see Dean standing behind us, “I promise to take care of her.”

“Sounds like you already have. Thank you for saving my daughter.” In a rare moment, I watched as my mom got up hugging someone other than me. Dean was tense for a moment before hugging her back.

The rest of the evening and into the night, Dean spent working on my car. I sat outside with him on the green cooler from his car handing him tools. Grease covered his arms, hands and clothes.

“Hey tiny fingers, come here and get this bolt off.” He called out from under the engine.

I stepped on top of the cooler reaching over looking down to see his beautiful eyes staring back at me. Reaching down my fingers brushed against his as I loosened the bolt in question. Getting down off the cooler I found myself straddling over Dean’s chest as he slid out from underneath the car.

“Hey there pretty girl.” He smirked as I moved back from him.

“Ha. Ha. So, what’s the verdict?” I watched as he stood up seemingly towering over me.

I tried hard to concentrate on him, but between the leather musk on his skin and engine grease was making me dizzy, “Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?”

“What? Sorry, what did you say?” I felt my face burning as he stepped closer to me.

“Am I distracting you from paying attention?” Backing up until my butt was against his car, his hands rested on either side of me caging me in.

“I have n-no idea what you’re talking about. So, tell me is my car a goner?” I swallowed the large lump knotted in my throat.

Dean leaned in closer until their noses were almost touching tilting his head slightly, “Your car is fine. The mechanic was trying to get more money out of you. The head gasket is in great shape.”

He stepped back with a smug grin on his face and my body seemingly followed along with him before I stopped it, “That’s great news! The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

The next morning, I woke up to low murmuring voices. One was distinctively Dean’s voice, “Sammy, I don’t know how else to say it clearer.”

His brother spoke in a concerned hushed tone, “I think you need to come up with another way because you’re sounding ridiculous right now.”

“All I know is that I have never felt this way in my life. Cassie, Jo, Lisa, none of them made me feel complete. None of them took away the gaping, endless void inside of me. I didn’t even think it was possible to feel this way, but here I am.”

Dean sounded distressed and that made my chest ache. I knew exactly how he was feeling since I had felt it since the moment we met. I had been trying to ignore the comfort and hope swelling inside me, but it was getting harder.

“Sounds like you’re talking about love at first sight or even soulmates.” Sam seemed more curious now than frustrated.

I took this opportunity to walk out from behind the wall divider, “Good morning.”

Dean’s eyes met me first bringing a warm smile to his handsome face, “Hey (Y/N), good morning. We didn’t wake you up?”

I shook my head feeling Sam’s gaze on me as I looked down at Dean’s Zeppelin t-shirt covering me, “Um I spilled spaghetti sauce on my last clean shirt. Dean was nice enough to let me borrow one of his.” I felt my face heating up as Sam nodded.

“Uh-huh.” He stood up walking towards me. Sam loomed over me pulling a flask from his jacket pocket, “Could you stick out your arm for me, please?”

I looked over to Dean who was rolling his eyes, “Sam it’s not necessary.”

“It is for me,” He looked at me as I brought my arm out and he poured what seemed to be water on my arm, “Okay, just a few more tests to go.”

I held a bandana from Dean over the small cut on my arm wincing, “What was that for?”

Sam wiped the blade on his jacket as Dean pushed him back gently. His vibrant olive eyes focused on tying the bandana, “Silver blade to make sure you’re not a werewolf or shapeshifter.”

“I’m sorry to be this way, but this whole situation is weird and I have to protect my brother,” Sam held his hand out to me, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

I shook his hand, “Yeah, nice to meet you too. Look, as strange as you both think this is, I feel the same way.”

I made sure to look at Dean when I spoke and his eyes widened, “Really?”

I nodded, “There’s a connection here that I can’t explain. Frankly, I don’t care if it’s ever explained to me. All I know is that being with you feels right.”

Sam's disapproving grunt had us both looking to him, “I think we should do a little more research into this. We should definitely get back to the Bunker and maybe ask Rowena for some help.”

A soft meow came from the ground below as Serenity rubbed against Sam’s legs affectionately. He knelt down petting her and I was surprised to see her go belly up.

“Wow, you must be an animal lover because Serenity has never done that with anyone but me.” I knelt down as well petting her soft fur.

For the first time, I watched Sam let down his guard and chuckled, “I’m usually a dog person but hard to say no to a cat who accepts you.”

“Wonderful, you and the furball can take (Y/N)’s car while she and I ride in Baby.” Dean slipped his arm around my shoulders bringing me into his side.

Sam nodded silently as his eyes never left me. It felt as if he were trying to read me, but there was nothing to reveal. By late morning, we were on the road to Lebanon, Kansas. It would be at least a day’s travel to get there, which Dean reassured me that they had done longer trips than this before. We filled the time by talking about everything from childhoods to Winchester's most interesting hunts. When I would get sleepy, Dean would pull me into his side and turn on his favorite mixtape. Being with him was as easy as breathing to me.

After a few stops for food and gas, we finally hit the city limits of Lebanon. The small town looked straight out of a 50’s sitcom. As we drove out of the rustic town, we drove down a long paved drive behind what looked to be an abandoned building of some kind. I was shocked when we came upon a large set of doors that opened into a full stocked garage.

“Welcome home.” Dean said as he parked his car with Sam pulling up next to him.

The Men of Letters Bunker, as the brother called it, was massive. Sam happily told me the history of the secretive group and how their family tied into it. Dean walked by my side with his fingers laced with mine holding my hand. We came to a door with the number eleven on it and Dean pulled her inside.

“This is my room. Of course, it’s the coolest room here except for maybe the Fortress of Deanitude.”

I looked around at all the weapons displayed on the walls. His massive record collection was set up in bins. His desk contained a computer, a small lamp and a tiny picture. I picked it up seeing Dean who was a young child with a woman he looked familiar too.

He gently took the picture from my hand, “My mom and I. It’s the last picture of us together before she was killed,” he placed the picture back in its spot.

After getting Serenity and I settled into our new room, I found myself overcome with exhaustion. Laying down on my new bed with Serenity lying next to me, I feel into the most peaceful night of sleep I have had in awhile. Dreams of adventures with Dean filling my head.

***

Dean sat with Sam in the Library, a soft smile permanent etched onto his face. Sam’s nose was nearly pressed against his computer screen looking into (Y/N). He was waiting for Rowena to call him back when a familiar voice came from near the Bunker door.

“You would have to go find your soulmate and end the world, Winchester.”

Sam and Dean looked up to see Billie standing tall holding her scythe, her hard eyes glaring down at them.

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wireless-art · 5 years ago

Photo

For the @gerrymichael-bigbang event.

(Click for best quality, this pic is big).

Adjacent to Human by @prentissed

It’s Michael who gets the idea, when they happen to pass by an old, inexplicably terrifying dentist advertisement on the road.

It stretches across a faded billboard, lone in the stretches of desert that surround them, featuring a gargantuan set of grinning teeth being poked and prodded by metal tools. Text overlaid above reads, ‘Every tooth has its end. Eckleburg & Co.’

“Oh, look at that,” says Michael, like he’s just seen a particularly cute cat picture. “I can’t remember the last time an actual doctor examined me.” He sighs. “I wonder how many teeth I have now.”

Gerry looks up briefly from the magazine he’d been peeling through to circle job offers. “Huh.” He wonders why an advertisement would deliberately make itself so existentially horrifying. “Well, I dunno, we could always take an x-ray of you or something. That’s not impossible, right?”

Michael makes an excited noise that briefly removes all sound from Gerry’s right ear. “It might be!”

So that’s how they get the idea to quote-unquote ‘borrow’ some medical equipment. It’s more simple than Gerry thinks it’ll be. Michael just pops them in and out of an empty lab and they take the x-rays before anyone notices. (And for the record, they aren’t careless. Gerry has a fair bit of medical knowledge, in fact, left over from the long-forgotten years when he’d been studying for a doctorate. He’d had dreams once.)

As Michael lies back on the examination table, twiddling his thumbs, Gerry asks, “Why’re you interested in this kind of thing, anyway? I thought you didn’t like having… knowledge about yourself.”

“I don’t,” he lilts, “but sometimes I get curious, you know? Anyone would. No one in the world knows how I work. Not even me.” One of his hands waves fingers just a touch too long. “Besides, there’s no guarantee this will even give that information. Or maybe it’ll be knowledge man wasn’t meant to know.”

“I see,” Gerry says flatly, starting up the machine. “Hold still for a sec.”

After all x-rays have been scanned (and equipment hastily abandoned at the startled screams of returning doctors) Gerry sits with Michael on the couch back in their apartment, rifling through the pictures they managed to snag.

Truth be told, he can’t help but be curious too. Whatever Michael’s insides look like, they definitely count as some sort of once-in-a-century medical anomaly… and maybe, maybe it bothers Gerry a bit that he doesn’t know what’s going on in there either. Don’t judge him. It’s his fucking boyfriend.

“Where do you wanna start?”

Michael hums from where his head is pillowed on Gerry’s lap. “In the spirit of Eckleburg, how about teeth?”

“I hope you’ve been flossing,” Gerry mutters.

The average person has 32 teeth, including incisors, canines, molars, and premolars. Michael has upwards of two hundred and forty-seven. No discernable categories between any— some are almost normal-looking, some are ingrown and nubby, others sharp as blades and spiraling out in jagged hooks, occasionally doubled up like emerging baby teeth. They’re jammed into the vague space where the mouth cavity should be.

“I hope it isn’t a turnoff.” Michael grins. In the flesh, he doesn’t have nearly that many. Well, sure, it’s more toothy than any human-adjacent thing has any right to be, but 247? Gerry counts and recounts. The number remains surprisingly consistent.

“No, no. You’re fine.” It’d be pretty hypocritical if Gerry went around judging someone for the state of their dental. He’s gotten a few knocked out himself— there are some gaps he’s never filling back in.

Besides, Gerry’s long since gotten used to Michael’s smiles. Even if he agrees with the general consensus that they look like “puncture wounds with molars”, they’re all part of Michael’s distinctly unnerving charm. He’s gotten used to a lot these past years.

“Okay, okay, what about the rest of my skull?” Michael claps his hands like a kid about to go on a roller coaster. “I wonder if I still have one.”

“You do,” Gerry confirms. “It’d be pretty wild if you didn’t and still had the capacity to carry teeth.” He squints as he pores over the pictures. “No eye holes, though. And you have a few more nose cavities than usual.”

“Of course, of course.”

Every human has 24 coupled ribs (12 pairs total). Michael appears to have missed the memo, because the x-ray of his torso displays something so distended and crooked it barely looks like a real extension of a creature’s anatomy.

Gerry loses count after around 20 and he’s not even halfway down the left side. Looks asymmetrical too.

Again, when he glances over at Michael’s torso, it really doesn’t look like all that twisted bone is in him. When one gets to know Michael (as much as that’s possible) it’s actually the normalcy of his appearance that becomes weird after a while. It’s easy to forget Michael doesn’t look monstrous to 90% of the general population.

But in a way it’s kind of nice too. When Michael sheds that skin around him, Gerry’s getting a look at something more real— not real, probably not even comprehensible, but truer.

“Let’s take a look at those hands…” Gerry flips the next picture over, does a triple take, and scoffs. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“What? What?”

“These look normal.” Eight carpals, five metacarpals, fourteen phalanges; all lined up neatly in little rows. No unusual curves or even crookedness in the joints. It’s a perfectly ordinary, human-presenting hand.

Michael seems to find this one particularly amusing. He muffles his laughter into his fist, which Gerry glares annoyedly at— like a camera fading in and out of focus, it goes from regular to the inhumanly distended appendage he knows it is. Most people are lucky (or rather, profoundly unlucky) to get even a glimpse. Gerry suspects maybe it’s because he’s spent so much time around Michael; still, the cognitive dissonance gnaws at his brain the longer he looks at it. He doesn’t like his eyes lying to him.

As if to placate him, Michael reaches out and touches his wrist. Now this is a feeling Gerry really knows— something much larger than a hand, heavy, alternately soft and sharp, settling like a sack of stones into his grasp. The skin rasps against his. The texture is more akin to that of a sandbag. Now, that’s something uniquely Michael. It’s an oddity that has become a signature of their shared life between each other.

“Now come on,” Michael croons up to him, not unkindly. “You knew an X-ray couldn’t reveal everything, right? I have my secrets to keep after all.”

“Yeah. But I wanted to see you,” Gerry pouts, letting his face be held between too-large, too-scratchy, too-long hands. He runs his own fingers over one of them absentmindedly and Michael sighs. “Sometimes it just frustrates me that I can’t know you better.”

“There are things that you, nor humanity, aren’t meant to see. Besides,” he adds, nuzzling closer, “wouldn’t you say that knowing someone isn’t the same as understanding their anatomy? I could study textbook upon textbook and still never really grasp why you humans are the way you are.”

“Don’t get started on that,” Gerry rolls his eyes.

Michael gets insistently coy about these things, leveling little jabs implying humanity is some alien race to him when Gerry knows damn well he didn’t always used to be this way. He lets Michael have this because bringing it up tends to make him upset, and Gerry’s content letting him be a bit of a shithead if it makes him comfortable.

Still, though. Sometimes he’d like to ask what exactly’s so bad about being human. Maybe it’s perspective— there was never a time when Gerry wasn’t human, so how could he make that call?

“You know me well enough,” Michael says, smiling up at him softly with those wretched teeth. He takes one of Gerry’s wrists, one of his scarred and tattooed and utterly ordinary human limbs, and kisses his pulse point. “Be sated with this, darling. Don’t be like one of those Beholding folk, hungering for knowledge you can’t have.”

“But sometimes I like knowing things.” Gerry combs his free hand through Michael’s hair. It’s stiff and sharp at the edges, with the faint smell of straw. “Did you know there are over 7,000 nerve endings in the hand alone? Our fingers contain some of the densest areas of those endings in the body.” He watches Michael’s eyes slide shut. “Say what you will about us, but human beings have amazingly complex bodies. Like. It’s a wonder we’re here at all, with how easy it is for them to malfunction— and you have all that, compiled with the fact that it’s a statistical improbability for us to exist at all in the first place.”

He brushes his fingers over Michael’s cheek. “It’s terrifying being alive. The fact that we are alive is pretty astounding, though. That knowledge keeps me going sometimes.”

Michael has such a worn face. So close to human. Almost adjacent.

He sighs in Gerry’s lap. “Hm.” A pause. Then: “Gerry?”

“Yeah?”

“All that being said…” It’s not that Michael’s voice wavers, exactly, but the usual smile isn’t present in it. “Is there any part of this you would like to change if you could, then?”

“Nah,” Gerry decides, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “It’s all part of your charm.”

#gerrymichael #spirals and eyes #the magnus archives #tma #fanfiction #bigbang #pen and ink #traditional #gerard keay #michael distortion #gerrymichaelbigbang

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youllneverknowrac · 5 years ago

Text

Oscar Diaz-So High

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Side note:This is how it goes down at my job and yes the dentist can tell! Only if it was done with force!

@slightlynumb

“Y/N Y/LN!” You hear your name being called as you sit in the small waiting room nervously, Oscar at your side holding your hand.

“Come on nena.” Oscar says softly and pulls you to stand up with him. You look at him with wide eyes and don’t reply as you follow the nurse to the pre-op area. They take your height, weight, and blood pressure and ask you one million questions, just like they did a week ago at your dental exam. The nurse pulls the curtain so she she can go put in all the information, letting you know that it won’t be too long before you’re getting your iv and heading to the OR.

The reason you were here was because you were absolutely terrified of going to the standard dentist, you could not sit still and let them remove all four wisdom teeth while being awake, so they referred you to this surgery center where they put you completely asleep for the procedure. The only problem being that your insurance didn’t want to cover it so Oscar had to pay 3 grand out of his own pocket. You wanted to tell him no and not come, but Oscar basically forced you to come to the exam after seeing how much pain you were in.

“I don’t want to Oscar.” You say as you sit in the chair next to him,”I’m fine really, please let’s just go home.” You plead, looking over to the hospital bed that was a few feet away from you.

“Y/N you can’t even eat bread.” Oscar sighs,”It’s a quick procedure mami, a hour tops. Don’t get yourself worked up. I’m going to be right there when you wake up.”

“If I wake up.” You groan and wipe your face tiredly.

“Don’t say that, you’re going to wake up.” Oscar reprimands,”This is going to make you feel better. You will be glad you did it.”

“You’ve never had to remove yours so I can’t really trust your advise, no offense.” You tell him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“It’s a fact that this will help you eat again without crying every two seconds.” He says and places a kiss to the top of your head,”Just be calm and have good thoughts mami.” Oscar soothes, the nurse opening up the curtain and asking you to sit on the bed so she can do your iv. You slowly pull away from your human comfort source and move to the bed. You hold your arm out and let the nurse tie the band around it, finding a vein with ease and grabbing the iv. You look away not wanting to see the rest, grimacing when you feel the needle go in.

“All done.” She says hooking all the tubing that would be needed to the actual iv. Watching as she hangs a fluid bag on your bed,”Let me go make sure they’re ready for you and then I’ll roll you back.” She smiles

“Okay.” You nod and take a deep breath, Oscar standing up and pushing some hair out of your face.

“You okay?” He asks, giving you another peck, this time on your forehead.

“Yeah, it. hurt a little, but it’s okay.” You tell him as you play with the hospital bracelet on your arm.

“Que chica tan fuerte.” (What a strong girl)Oscar pokes fun.

“You’re suppose to be nice to me today.” You pout

“You’re right, you’re right.” He chuckles and leans down to give you a quick kiss,”I’m sorry.” He mumbles against them before pulling away.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be buying me all the ice cream I want later so it makes up for it.” You say with a small smile, leaning your head back and trying to relax.

“Yeah, I figured you were going to milk this shit out of this.”

“Hey you’re the one that forced me to come.” You tell him just as the nurse comes back and tells you it’s go time. She instructs Oscar to go wait in the waiting room again, letting him tell you bye before she’s pulling you down a hall and through these big double doors and into a room that’s reads OR 1. She connects three little patches on your chest, hooking that up to the machine, along with a blood pressure cuff on your arm and a pulse ox on your finger. Soon a few other workers join her-the anesthesiologist, the dentist, and a dental assistant.

“Big breaths.” The old man says after giving you a quick briefing of what he was going to do, and what would happen in the next thirty seconds or so. You do as he says, your eyes growing heavy as you breath in the gas. Surely enough your world becoming black as you get knocked out.

You feel someone messing with your arm and calling your name. But it’s like you couldn’t fully wake up yet. You try to pull away to stop whatever was going on but you had no force...and this strange urge to cough. Which is exactly what you felt your self doing before something is being pulled out of your mouth(oral airway). Your eyes flutter open and your instantly blinded by the light, also taking notice of the new location and nurse that was at your bedside. Everything just seemed so...slow. Like if you were high off your ass already and then decided to smoke three more joints.

“My throat hurts.” You say, craving some cold water. You’re mouth also feeling stuffed.

“It’s going to hurt baby, you had a long tube down it.” The older lady says as she grabs something near your head,”Let me clean your face off and try not to talk to much. You still have gauze in your mouth.” She instructs

“Sorry, oh my bad. Sorry.” You giggle, the nurse shaking her head but a smile still on her face as she uses a wipe on your face.

“No talking.” She says and waves a finger in front of your face playfully,”I’m going to take you iv out now. Then I’ll call for your family.”

You nod your head in understanding and hold your arm out like earlier. She does it quickly and bandages it up before walking away, the curtain slightly open so you could make out a few other workers. It doesn’t take long before Oscar is at your side and looking over you, the nurse as well.

“How you feel mamita?” Oscar asks.

“I can’t talk, so I can’t tell you that.” You say, your voice kind of muffled from how much gauze was in it. Oscar laughs and takes your hand as the nurse grabs his attention. She goes over a list of instructions and what to expect for the next few days, having Oscar sign your release forms and a bit of other medical stuff. Oscar takes the copy’s along with a prescription for pain medication and antibiotics. They help you in a wheel chair and bring you downstairs, your legs feeling funny as you try to get in the car.

“Woah, I feel like gelatin.” You laugh as Oscar reaches out to help you.

“I got her.” Oscar tells the lady as he places you into the car with ease.

“Gauze comes out when you get home! Call us if you have any more questions.” The nurse says as she pushes the wheel chair away.

“Wait! How long did y’all say this last again?” Oscar asks, slamming the car door shut.

“She should be back to her normal self in the next hour or two.” She answers quickly

“Fuck.” He mumbles to himself,”Thank you.” He says and walks around to get into the drivers seat.

“Blood is on my shirt.” You say as you look down at your clothes, a few drops of blood on your chest,”What.the.fuck. They got blood on my shirt papi.”

“Y/N, you can’t talk. That shits going to fall out of your mouth.” Oscar reminds as he starts the car up,”Also you had four teeth removed, there is going to be blood.”

“Right quiet. Shhhh.” You say and look over at him,”Are you forgetting something?”

“Quit talking!” He groans and looks over at you,”What am I forgetting?”

You give him a pointed look and pat your chest,”Um my seatbelt, do you want me to die. My arms are like not attached to me so I can’t do it.” You laugh and let your head roll back slowly.

Oscar takes a deep breath and reaches over to put on your seatbelt,”Not another word.” He says more sternly before beginning to drive. That only last about seven minutes before you remember something.

“Hey, give me my phone.” You say and hold your hand out.

“Shhh.” Oscar says and reaches into his pocket with his free hand and gives it to you. You try to unlock it but everything was blurry and the numbers didn’t look like numbers.

“I’m confused.” You say and toss it to the back seat in annoyance.

“The fuck, you’re going to break it.” Oscar says, not being able to hide his laugh,”You need to calm down mami.”

“No talking.” You say smartly, the gauze moving from the sides of your mouth and on to your tongue,”Ew!” You say and spit them out, letting the bloody covered squares fall into your lap,”Oscar get it off of me!” You say in disgust.

“My god.” He groans as he glances back and forth between you and the road. He reaches over and pulls out a few napkins from the glove compartment and picks the gauze out of your lap and tosses it all out the window,”I told you to stop talking.”

“I know you did not just litter.” You gasp and swat his arm,”Oscar we love the earth.”

“Okay well where the fuck else was that shit going to go?” He asks as he pulls into the drive through pharmacy to grab your items.

“I don’t know...but what I do know is that I want ice cream after this.”

“We’re getting ice cream after, but be quiet so I can talk to these people.” Oscar says as he pulls up to the window. You try to focus on the windshield and sitting still but you get bored a few minutes in.

“Hurry up.” You complain,”I want Ice cream now.”

“Nena, just a few more minutes.” Oscar says and takes your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it as the two of you wait for the pharmacist to return with your items.

“Thanks.” Oscar says as he takes the bag from them and places it in between the two of you before driving again.

You pull down the mirror wanting to look at yourself and your eyes go wide,”I look so ugly.” You cry, your eyes feeling up with tears,”My cheeks are so fat. Am I gonna look like this forever?”

“Your face is swollen nena. It’ll go down.” Oscar reassures.

“I look like a chipmunk.” You sob

“Nena you’re the cutest chipmunk around.” He laughs and shuts the mirror back up.

“You mean it?” You ask

“One hundred percent.”

“Well I guess that’s good.” You smile, your mood instantly changing. Oscar doesn’t reply as you turn the radio on, a old school rap playing,”Ice cream?”

“Yes, I’m going to get some right now.” He laughs.

“I want strawberry.” You say excitedly

“I knew that already. That’s all you ever get.”

“Cause it’s the best flavor.” You defend,”It’s like sweet but not to sweet and you can mix it with stuff if you want too. But you shouldn’t even want to because it’s so perfect on its own. Don’t you agree?”

“Nah we gonna disagree on that one.” Oscar shakes his head,”Cookie dough is where it’s at. No competition.”

“Wrong. So wrong.” You tell him

“Whatever you say.”

“Just drive Oscar. I can’t believe you could even say something so far from the truth. Strawberry will always be number one. I love it so much I should get it tattooed on me. Like on my neck...or maybe my forehead. Yes! That’s such a good idea.”

“I would love to see you do that.”

“Fine. I will. Call your homie up and have him come to the house.” You say nonchalantly

“I’ll call him later smart ass..” He laughs

“Better to be a smart ass than a dumb ass...I mean it though I’m going to do it. A big ol pink ice cream.”

“On some real shit, I need whatever the fuck they got you on.”

“Um general anesthesia? Did you not listen to them when they explained it?”

“Well I need some of that...you think there’s a market for that?”

“Um I don’t think so...it’s too medical and involves all this other shit.” You giggle

“Well shit. Just gotta stick to what I know.” Oscar smirks

“Duh.” You smile and tap your forehead knowingly,”Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“Do you think the dentist could tell that last night...I you know...” you say, pointing to his lower body and then to your mouth.

“Shit, I don’t know. You think he seen my dick print in the back of your throat?” Oscar laughs loudly

“Oh my god, probably. They’re all gonna talk about me. Or they were while I was knocked out.” You groan

“I don’t think they can really tell mami. I mean I wouldn’t think so and if they did who cares.” He shrugs

“I mean I care, kind of.”

“Not like your ever gonna see them again.” He says and pulls into the different drive through lane to buy you your treat,”You want all strawberry? Ima get a few cups to take home so you can eat later.”

“One vanilla mixed in with strawberry. I like to add a little razzle dazzle every now and then.”

“Of course you do.” Oscar says with a shake of his head pulling up to the voice box to order. Hoping this drug can wear off sooner rather than later.

“Cesar and his little crew are here!” You say excitedly as Oscar parks in the drive, a now empty ice cream cup in your hand. You toss it at him before trying to run out of the car, nearly tripling the whole way to the outside couch.

“Hi!” You squeal and wrap your arms around the younger Diaz brother tightly, making your way down the line. However when you get to Ruby he holds on for a little longer.

“Did you just sniff me?” You laugh, eyeing as Oscar grabs the stuff from the car and heads in, his clean white shirt now stained with droplets of pink ice cream.

“No!” The tiny boy says, his eyes going wide before he sits back down on the couch. The rest of the group laughing.

“Did I smell good?”

“Yes.” He mumbles quietly, keeping his head down.

“Good.” You say and wave at them before making your way inside, humming to yourself. The drug not as strong as it was earlier, but still feeling a little doozy.

“Ohhh, strip show.” You say as you find Oscar in the bedroom changing into a clean shirt.”

“It’s your fault. You threw that ice cream on me.” Oscar says giving you a glare.

“I was just excited to see Cesar.” You say and walk up to him, with puckered lips.

“Hell nah, get away from me with your bloody ass mouth.” Oscar says and gives your forehead a light push as he laughs.

“I thought you loved me.” You say in shock as you hurry to the attached bathroom to look inside your mouth,”Gross.” You say and lean down to cup some water in your hand. Sipping it into your mouth and gargling it.

“You’re never going to kiss me again?” You ask softly when you come back out, walking past him as you throw yourself down on the bed face first.

“I will. Tomorrow.” Oscar says and comes over to take your shoes off,”You need some sleep right now though. A long nap will do you good. Go get under the covers.”

You mutter something incoherent, scooting yourself up like a worm and bringing the blanket over your body,”Lay down with me.”

“I will, but let me go get your medicine so you can take it already.”

You sigh and wait for him to comeback, a small headache forming and the numbness from your mouth beginning to wear off. Oscar returns shortly with a glass of water and two pills,”Open.” He says as you sit up, sticking you tongue out as you do what he asks. He places the medicine on your tongue and holds the glass up to your mouth,”Drink.” You listen and let him hold the cup for you as you down more than half of it.

“Okay, sleep now.” You say after swallowing, patting the empty space next to you.

Oscar nod and sets water down on the night table, pulling off his belt and cargo shorts.

“Your socks are so high, leave them on. They make your thighs look amazing.” You joke, Oscar rolling his eyes as he tugs them down.

“Ima let you talk your shit for today...but tomorrow I’m coming full force mami.” He smirks before climbing in behind you.

“Shut up and hold me.” You say and snuggle into him,”Thank you for going with me today.” You add after a few moments

“I had no choice, I couldn’t let you go by yourself.” Oscar says as he wraps himself around you.

“Yeah but still, thanks. I couldn’t have done it with out you.”

“You’re welcome. Now shut those pretty little eyes of yours.” He says as he pushes some hair off of your face,”I’ll make you some soup later for when you wake up.”

“You’re the best.” You sigh and let your eyes close,”love you.”

“I love you too.” He says, the last thing you hear before your falling asleep for the second time that day.

#couple #netflix #julio macias #on my block imagines #on my block season 3 #omb #netflix on my block #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz #spooky x reader #spooky diaz #freeridge #wisdom #ice cream #funny #playful #my love #relationship

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mochimiyas · 4 years ago

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suna after dentist

summary: you decided to pick up suna from the dentist and take care of him after his procedure, oblivious for what’s about to come.

pairings: suna rintarou x reader

warnings: just some fluff

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, so enjoy! content is under the cut as usual (:

you approached the receptionist desk and rang the bell, hearing someone faintly calling for you to wait as they finished up their task. one of the workers poked her head out from the door behind the desk, remembering what you were here for today and immediately walked out to assist you.

“thank you for your patience! he should be waking up soon, honey,” the receptionist wrote down your name on a name tag, peeling off the backing card and placing it on your collarbone, “why don’t i bring you to his room?”

you bowed, “i would greatly appreciate that! thank you so much.”

“no worries! the nurse inside will go ahead and brief you on what to do once he wakes up okay?” she smiled sweetly at you.

the receptionist gestured you to follow her, and through the doors she navigated you through the clinic and once you finally arrived at his room, she opened the door as quietly as she could, ushering you to walk in. you hear the door close behind you as you approached the bed, seeing your lanky yet muscular boyfriend sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed. “he looks so relaxed,” you mumbled to yourself as you lovingly stroked his hair, gliding your fingers in between his soft strands. zoning out, you didn’t notice nor hear the nurse announcing herself as she walked into the room, watching you absentmindedly play with his hair and giggling at wholesomeness in front of her.

‘ah, young love these days!’ the nurse thought to herself as she announced herself again, just a tad bit louder this time. you snapped out of your thoughts to turn to look behind you, seeing the nurse gesturing you to take a step back.

“ack! i’m so sorry!” you blushed profusely at the nurse and scurried off to the side as she went to check your boyfriend’s vitals and gently nudge him, the action prompting the middle blocker to wake up. you watched as suna rintarou stirred in his sleep, his senses slowly coming back to him as he became more awake.

finally, he opened his eyes.

“rise and shine, suna-san,” the nurse finished wrapping his bandage around his elbow, “how are you feeling?”

you couldn’t help but giggle when suna groaned loudly, lifting his arm to shield his eyes from the brightness from the room. hearing the familiarity in the giggle, suna snapped his head towards the sound, seeing you stand off to the side with a wide grin on your face.

“nurse-san, my girlfriend is here! she’s hereeeeeee,” he drawled happily as he tried to reach out to you, only to see that he was too far away from you. the middle blocked pouted as he let his arm hang in the air, his childish antics making you giggle even more.

the nurse turned to you, “here’s his medications for his recovery. i’ve also placed extra gauze in here just in case along with a brochure that has all the information about recovering from wisdom teeth procedures,” she handed you the bag, “if you have any questions, feel free to call our office and we’d be more than happy to assist you!”

you thanked the nurse for her help and she left the room, letting you know beforehand that suna can take his time getting up. after hearing the door close, you immediately grabbed his hand, making him instantly smile after pouting so long.

“ah rin~ you’re acting such a child,” you teased.

“noooooooo i’m not! i’m your boyfriend, you’re supposed to be nice to me,” he frowned as you laughed. you placed the bag on the bed as you leaned over your boyfriend, placing a kiss on his forehead.

ever since suna told you about how he had to get his wisdom teeth removed, you were actually looking forward to it, oddly enough. you heard stories from your group of friends how the anesthesia makes anyone act out of character and loopy, piquing your interest when you thought about how suna would act. would he act like himself? or would he act completely different? nonetheless, you were surprised when suna started acting all sorts of cute in front of you, the contrast between his aloof, lazy disposition and his cute antics being huge.

“i really, really missed you, my love,” suna rambled on as he fiddled with your fingers. you pulled back and saw suna bringing your hands to his lips, gently kissing your hand and staring you adoringly.

you could feel your heart clench at the sheer cuteness of it all.

suna rintarou, you cute bastard, you.

“c’mon, let’s go home baby,” you grabbed his other hand as he slowly pulled himself up. you grabbed the bag before he swung his leg over the side of the bed, trying to stabilize himself before standing up. he wrapped his arm around you, the both of you walking towards the door.

“i’m doing it! i. am. walking!” suna gleefully exclaimed as you both navigated through the clinic, finally finding the exit as suna sadly waved goodbye at the nurse and receptionist while you were trying to find your car.

your boyfriend let out a sigh as he placed his head on top of yours, pouting as you tried to walk with him clinging to your back like a koala.

“rin, i have to find the car-”

“nooooooooooooooooo”

you chuckled, “if you don’t help me, then it’s gonna take longer for us to get home and we wouldn’t have enough time for cuddle time.”

suna gasped, realizing he was holding you back from finding your car. he really wanted cuddle time with you! he couldn’t wait for you to hold him in your arms, having your fingers gently play with his hair and the warmth! oh, suna swears you’re just like a teddy bear whenever he held you during cuddle time; he wouldn’t trade cuddle time for anything in the world, not even for chuupets!

and that’s coming a lot from him.

he suddenly straightened his posture, having an arm wrapped around your shoulders as he scanned the parking lot in search of your car. you quietly giggled at his determination, his cute antics once again making your heart swell. you just can’t handle the cuteness today that is suna rintarou.

“found it!” he pointed to the black toyota camry while pulling you towards the car, ushering you to pick up the pace. you and suna got in the car and after making sure you both had your seatbelts on, you drove off to the suna residence.

you both arrived at the suna residence safe and sound, even with suna trying to hold both of your hands while you were driving and whining when you wouldn’t give in. once you both finally entered his room, suna wasted no time and tackled you, your back hitting his satin sheets as he wrapped his arms around you, tightening when you tried to adjust your position.

with no avail, you sighed as you cuddled with the middle blocker, one of your hands reaching up to stroke his hair, just how he liked it. the action made suna let out a satisfied groan, and nuzzled his head into your chest.

“you’re so lucky you’re cute, rintarou,” you whispered as you watched suna slowly drift off, feeling his breaths become more shallow and his body getting lax.

you started to feel drowsy, and with one last kiss to his forehead, you dozed off, the both of you enveloped in each other’s warmth.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu writing #haikyuu fic #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna x reader

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speciallinksseo · 3 years ago

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George Campbell Orthodontist

I recently visited Infinity Smiles where my orthodontist was Dr George Campbell, and I was very impressed with the experience I had, as well as how my teeth now look after treatment. I was quite nervous as I’d never been to see an orthodontist before, but I have been self-conscious about my teeth and was hopeful something could be done to improve their appearance.

Dr Campbell was friendly and made me feel comfortable straight away, and I have felt this way during every appointment I’ve had with him since too. I was glad to have Dr George Campbell as my orthodontist as I’d heard good things about the treatment he provides from previous satisfied patients. His knowledge and experience made me feel reassured and confident that he was the right man for the job, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Given my sensitivity about my teeth, I was worried about fixed braces being the only option for me. I expressed my concern to Dr Campbell who assured me that there are other avenues to explore that I could feel more comfortable with.

I ultimately decided to go with Invisalign braces, so they wouldn’t be as noticeable, but still effective in aligning them. I was a bit concerned as I’d heard the price of these braces was quite expensive, but I was pleasantly surprised at how much it would cost when discussing it with Dr Campbell.

He was clear and took the time to break everything down for me and answer the many questions I had. I learned more about Invisalign, which was helpful as I wanted to have all the details before settling on that type of brace as the best for me. Deciding to get braces as an adult is a big decision which he completely understood; he gave me all the information I needed, and I felt that he was caring and patient throughout the process.

George Campbell Orthodontist review

At each appointment, Dr Campbell was warm and took his time, which I appreciated, as I know dentists and orthodontists are extremely busy, but he never made me feel rushed or like I was just another patient, every appointment was personal. When I first got my Invisalign braces, Dr Campbell thoroughly went through the care that was needed so I had a clear understanding of what I could do to ensure I got the best results from my braces.

george campbell orthodontist

I was so impressed with Invisalign as soon as they were put in, I could barely see them. The aligners have a look of thin mouth guards that just sit over your teeth and unlike normal braces you can remove them at certain points too. Dr Campbell took the time to create a custom treatment plan to suit my lifestyle and goals for how I want my teeth to look at the end. To follow this plan, I simply had to replace each set of Invisalign aligners with a new one every few weeks. The process was straightforward, and I started to notice changes in my teeth quite quickly, as did Dr Campbell who was pleased with my progress.

At the end of my treatment, I couldn’t have been happier with the results, my teeth straightened even more than I imagined they could. Having my teeth better aligned has given me so much confidence. I cannot thank Dr Campbell enough for the time and effort he put in to make sure I was happy throughout my Invisalign journey. If anyone in the Glasgow area is looking for a good orthodontist, I would definitely recommend going to see Dr George Campbell, he has worked wonders on my teeth and could do the same for anyone else.

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dibidibifiction · 4 years ago

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Criminal In My Mind: Chapter 3

Warning: foul language

Pairings: Choi Minho x Reader; Kim Jonghyun x Kim Kibum (side) Word count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist Chapter 2

Y/N

I just received a phone call from Minho to notify me that Taemin has been brought to the hospital. I’m now in a cab on my way there, out of breath from being anxious and in a hurry at the same time.

I just told that kid not to do something stupid!

Minho told me that Taemin’s going to be okay but what I’m worried about now is keeping this a secret. I hate lying to Mr. Lee.

So, that’s his name. Minho, like from the book series, Maze Runner. He didn’t sound hostile at all when I talked to him on the phone. He actually sounded reassuring and respectful.

I arrive at the emergency room and immediately catch the sight of him as he stands up to approach me.

“Hey, thank you so much for being here for him. I’m Y/n. Where is he?”

“Right in there,” Minho leads me to Taemin. Although I find myself staring at his back for a second, eyeing his features briefly, as I’m quite astonished by his obvious handsomeness.

I walk right up to Taemin, almost teary. “What happened to you? I thought I already told you not to do something stupid!”

“It’s not my fault, Noona. My girlfriend’s ex and his friends got back at me for stealing her, which is not really the case at all. She came onto me!”

This kid is so adorable that he never fails to make me laugh. I could never be mad at him. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks to Minho Hyung. He would’ve fought off those guys if they hadn’t run away fast enough. He and his pretty girlfriend helped me and rushed me over here. For free I might add.”

I turn to Minho, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I promise we’ll pay you back.”

He chuckles charmingly, “There’s no need for that. Anyway, I have to go. I have to drop my mom off at the airport. Taemin, stay out of trouble.”

We watch him walk away. He does look cuter when he smiles. The chuckle with his deep voice was just a bonus. For some reason, he has this flaming charisma that I find sexy. With his muscular manly figure showing off despite wearing a loose shirt, and his long arms and legs. I wonder how tall he is. And that ass? I mean no disrespect but fuck!

“Was that really his girlfriend that drove you here or was it his mom or his sister?”

“I think she’s too young to be that guy’s mom. Why, do you like him?”

“I didn’t say that!” My voice sounds so high and loud that I seem defensive.

“Oh, please. You’re already smitten,” he continues to annoy me. “Not only is he hot and handsome, but he’s really kind, too. God, I’ll be all over that guy if I was a woman. Or gay.”

I laugh at what Taemin says. Regardless of how ridiculous that sounds, I’m afraid that he might be right.

. . .

Days have gone by after that Taemin incident. It’s finally my day off tomorrow! I have over an hour left before my shift ends.

I will finally get to see Kibum tonight, who I haven’t seen in a long time. We barely hang out anymore ever since he moved out of town with his own family for a bigger place.

He’s been my best friend since junior high school. I had no friends back then because everybody’s too uncomfortable to speak to me after I survived the abduction. He was the new kid in school. One lunchtime, I was having trouble pumping ketchup onto my plate because my limbs were too small and weak. He then helped me out since he’s surprisingly strong for quite a skinny guy at the time. Since then, after we first shared our love for ketchup, that’s how we came to be. We also went to the same college and got the same undergraduate, only he carried on his studies to pursue dermatology and I finally got to be a florist.

Speak of the devil, “Kim Kibum!” I answer my phone.

“I hope you’re carrying some aspirin with you because we are gonna party until roofs blow off!”

“Who are you kidding? You hate clubs,” I get confused at first but immediately realize he’s just being sarcastic.”

“The fuck I do. I just thought I could trick you. But we’re still drinking. I went into clubs so rarely in college but now, I have three-year-old boy twins and a fiancé, who I met in one of those clubs,” he laughs too loudly. Funny for someone who hates noisy and crowded places.

“I know. I was there the whole fucking time! Is Jonghyun Oppa coming, too?” I ask him.

“Uh, no, he went home to his mom with the boys. It’s just a few neighborhoods away from where you are. He might come and join us tomorrow morning.”

“That’s fine. We can just meet up at SM Café.”

“Oh, are still friends with that Jinki guy? I thought we didn't like him anymore.”

“Hey, come on, we only went out for a week. We didn’t even sleep together. Plus, he is a perfect gentleman, although sometimes annoying because of his jokes. But there’s no reason to fall out.”

“Does he still flirt with you?” he asks me teasingly.

“Yes, be right there,” I tell a customer who has just walked in and called out for assistance. “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll see you later, honey. Love you. Bye.”

I hang up and instantly turn to the customer by the vases section of the store.

After almost an hour discussing kinds of soil, pots, and vases with a customer, Mr. Lee comes in from the back of the shop, “Mr. Lee, what are you doing here?”

“Well, I live here. My apartment’s right upstairs,” he’s frowning like an old man who screams at children who wouldn’t get off his lawn.

I laugh at this hilarious sarcasm. “I mean aren’t you supposed to go to the dentist this afternoon and get your teeth fixed?”

“I changed my mind. I’m happy the way my teeth are,” he tells me while smiling widely. “By the way, I hired two new florists to cover for you as you arrange flowers your way all day long. I know how swamped you can be handling customers, deliveries, and bouquets all at the same time. Plus, we have more than enough money to pay for extra help thanks to you. So, congratulations, you’re my new head florist!”

“No way, really? Thank you so much, Mr. Lee!” I jump up and down out of glee. I almost hug him.

“No problem. Oh, and you get a pay raise. Now get out of here. I got this,” he insists, patting me on the head.

I go home to take a shower and put on some more attractive clothes and bold, glam makeup because I don’t know where Kibum and I will end up going, just like the old times. Even though we didn’t often go to clubs—well, he didn’t—we still drank together at our dorm, resto-bars, and barbeque places. I always wanted to be ready to live this single drunk life in case some sexy guy wants to get on with me.

This time I take the bus to SM café and by the time I arrive, I catch Kibum’s car just pulling in for parking. I go ahead, walking into the café, and get relieved that it’s less crowded than it was this morning. I take a seat at a table by the window as Jinki approaches me.

“Hey, is your shift almost over?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I get off at-”

“Oh, my God, Kim Kibum!” I scream and suddenly rush over to Kibum and give him a long tight hug. “I missed you so much!”

Last time I saw him, his hair was pastel purple and longer. Now, it’s blonde and shorter, almost to his roots. I swear this man pulls off every single hairstyle and every single outfit. I can never understand how he does it. There’s not a day when he is not gorgeous.

“I missed you too, babe!” We’re screaming like a couple of teenagers who are so ready for spring break.

“You remember Jinki?” I introduce them then they exchange their hellos.

“What can I get you guys?” Jinki asks, as merry as always.

“Iced black coffee for me and…” I look to Kibum.

“Iced low-fat latté and a piece of red velvet cake for me. Thanks!”

“Great! I’ll be right back with your orders. Nice to see you again, Kibum.”

Kibum smiles and waves at Jinki as he walks away, grabbing empty trays from recently left-out tables.

“He got cuter, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Then what are you doing? Get on with it. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not the kind of guy I get attracted to. You know what I mean? It’s just...” I go on and on trying to explain, listing down reasons but nothing I say seems to make sense.

Kibum stares at me for a second with a wrinkled forehead and slightly parted lips. “I literally didn’t get a single thing from what you just said.”

“Well, there’s this guy I’m hoping to-”

“Here are your drinks and one red velvet cake. Hope you enjoy,” Jinki is back, placing our beverages on the table.

“Thank you so much!” Kibum exclaims.

“I get off at nine,” Jinki turns to me.

“That’s soon. We’ll just wait for you,” I tell him. “We have a lot of catching up to do anyway.

“Alright, as long as you guys don’t mind. We can drink here if you want. I still got several bottles of soju left from when my friends came over last week.”

“Sure, that would be great! It’s less trouble,” Kibum tilts his head toward my direction, referring to me and the many nights I got into trouble in every college bar.”

. . .

I start hearing familiar voices in the background fading in.

“Right, right. So what happened with you and the girl?” I hear Jinki laughing.

“What do you think? I haven’t seen her ever since. I decided to take the twins with me since she didn’t want them. Then Jonghyun and I eventually got back together and worked everything out the way...”

I open my eyes just to realize I passed out. I look around, we’re still at the café. I look at my watch, it’s almost midnight.

Holy shit, have I grown weak? I scold myself. It's only been two hours since we started drinking.

When I was in college, I didn’t stop drinking while the sun was still hiding. I could go all night partying even with people I didn’t know, as long as they didn't sell drugs or dressed up as a cop. What happened to me? Maybe I’m too old for this shit.

“There she is!” Jinki is laughing at me.

Just after a few minutes, I still crave for a fun night so I resume drinking and join the boys. Turns out the night is still young and the fun is just continuing on.

Would you look at that, I’m not too old for this shit after all!

Chapter 4

#ktm cimm #ktm cimm c3

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years ago

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you wrote ‘don’t forget’ on your arm // 1 // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: Jupiter’s going to dress as Lola for the premiere of The Dirt, is dating MGK, and also the premiere happens.

A/N: @misscharlottelee and @local-troubled-writer . I split this into 2 parts because the second part is almost entirely this AU’s version of The Dirt and it was getting too long. Next part to be posted tomorrow!!

Part 1 of 2

----

Jupiter looks like Lola; the same dark hair, same angular face. They’re not a spitting image, they’ve inherited Tommy’s waifishness and green eyes, so the honour of looking like a carbon copy of their mother belongs to Cerie, but whenever people write about Jupiter, on blogs or in magazines, they always feel the need to mention; Jupiter looks like Lola. So with the premiere coming up, Jupiter thinks it’s only fitting; if all anyone sees is their mother, then spitefully, they’ll play into that.

For the record, Alicia, the woman they’ve got playing Lola, looks eerily similar to her, and by extension Jupiter, and Jupiter wonders if it’s egotistical of Freudian to think she’s hot. Whatever; that’ll be their therapist’s problem. The cast for The Dirt is hot, which is an uncomfortable truth that Jupiter has to live with. Even Iwan makes Mick hot, which is somehow way weirder than her mom being hot, because Mick is a gremlin and the only band member Jupiter actually gets along with, their father notwithstanding.

Some time when Jupiter was a teenager, Mick had told them, with the haunted wisdom of a man who has spent over half his life putting up with their parents, that he’d had broken guitars with more common sense than Lola, and Jupiter decided then and there that he was their favourite, and their opinion hadn’t waivered since.

So it’s with a well-worn resentment that they acknowledge how actually stylish Lola was in her youth, not that she isn’t now, but she was more of a punk in her twenties than Jupiter knows they could ever be.

Penny thinks it’s self-destructive behaviour, and that Jup is too old for this shit, but she tags along, never one to pass up a good trawl through a vintage store, that is when she’s not in the studio with Dominic. Jup joins them when they can, when they’re not working on the final touches for their own album.

“Am I allowed to say your mom is hot?” Colson’s laying back on Jup’s sofa, flipping through a scrapbook Tommy had leant him, filled with old newspaper and magazine clippings, trying to find a good photo of Lola, while Jupiter scrolls through pinterest, looking for any and all photos of their mother in her youth. Preferably with clothes on. Christ, Lola. Jupiter shoots him a look, but it’s not angry, it’s just rather… uncomfortable.

“I think you are, but I wish you wouldn’t.”

None of the jackets are ever right; they’ve got the ripped fishnets, the black platforms, the leather shorts, they’d even managed to get their hands on a spiked bra, but for all the leather jackets they’d looked at, none of them were Lola-level of over the top gutter punk. Oh they had spikes upon spikes, and buckles, and a few had some custom detailing, but none of them were right. Up until Motley’s first tour, Lola had lived and died in her black leather jacket, with the spikes on the shoulders, that looked better open than it did zipped up. There was only one option left. They could go to Tommy, but they knew ultimately they’d end up at the same place.

Lionheart Management’s thirty-second floor offices had the same effect on Jupiter as a dentist’s office had on a child; deep seated discomfort, but Jupiter would rather meet her there than have to go to the bullshit family home she shared with Nikki.

Jupiter knocks on the door that bares their mother’s name, grimacing at the little plaque beneath that reminded everyone that she was the CEO. Lola’s voice rings from inside, inviting them in, and she seems pleasantly surprised to see Jupiter when the door opens.

Lola still wears all her earrings she’d given herself in her youth, though now they’re studs rather than safety pins and pieces of wire, as Jupiter had come to see, and for all she’s grown up, she still favours black. Maybe that’s why Jupiter’s always gone for pastels.

“What a lovely surprise,” Lola sits back in her desk chair, haloed the golden records on her wall, and gives a fond smile to her child, “what can I do for you today?” And it kind of stings that Lola knows that Jupiter wants something, though Jupiter considers that that’s no-one’s fault but their own. They don’t make a point of seeing Lola for idle chatter.

“Do you still have that black jacket from the eighties?” Jupiter cuts right to the chase, and Lola frowns a little.

“Which one?”

“The one with the spikes on the shoulders and the weird sort of panel design?”

“I think Nadine gave me that one -” Lola says, something gently faraway about her tone.

“I don’t need it’s history, I’m just asking if I can borrow it.” Jupiter’s tone is sharp, and Lola’s expression falls. After a moment, she agrees quietly, giving a sad smile as she tells Jupiter they can pick it up later that night from her house. Before they turn away, they think they can see what people mean when they say that Jupiter looks like Lola, something haunted, wise beyond her years. They turn away.

“It’s good to see you, Jubilee,” Lola tells them just as Jupiter goes to leave, using the nickname she’d given Jupiter after they’d come out and changed their name, “I’ve heard you’re working on some new music, that’s exciting.” She’s trying so desperately to make some sort of connection with the child who barely acknowledges her, and Jupiter feels a twinge of guilt.

“It’s releasing a month after The Dirt, my album,” Jupiter’s tone is soft and a little cautious, but they turn back in time to see Lola smiling, “I even had Seo and Cyrus help out with one of the songs.” To which Lola actually laughs, warm and fond.

“I heard; Cy has not stopped talking about it, and about how he’s going to thank you when he’s headlining Coachella in a few years time.” Lola enthuses, leaning forward, elbows on her desk, eyes sparkling with amusement. This has Jupiter grinning, amused at their little brothers antics, actually sharing a nice moment with their mom. “Sounds like you’re really keeping busy; dad’s got you and Penny working on some stuff for the premiere, right?”

“Yeah, along with Colson and Dominic,” Jupiter says with a faint smile.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Lola says, a gentle pride in her words, “taking the world by storm, you’re a powerhouse, Jubilee.” And Jupiter feels a strange sort of warmth flourish in their chest.

Lola doesn’t ask why they want the jacket, just hands it over easily when Jupiter comes to pick it up.

When he sees it, Colson whistles low through his teeth, poking at the spikes on the shoulders with an awed fascination.

“Holy shit, dude -”

“Don’t cum too hard, it’s just a jacket,” Jupiter makes a face, but Colson actually snorts.

“Do you know how many guys would give their left nut to touch this jacket?”

“Are you into me or my mom?” Jupiter snaps, and he turns his gaze on them, eyes wide, looking a little guilty. In an instant, he’s put the jacket on the table, and has wrapped Jup up in his arms.

“You, babe, of course, it’s just weird after seeing the replica costuming made; it doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. I’m into you, Jup,” he adds, “jesus fuck.” Jup will leave enough bites and hickeys on him to remind him of this fact later that night.

They haven’t thought much about the movie itself; they’ve been around set out of sheer curiosity, and also to spend time with the cast, as they’re becoming fast friends, but they don’t actually know even the plot of the movie, or have read the script, and they haven’t been motivated enough to piece together any of this information from the snippets they’ve been on set for. Penny’s got a better grip, mostly because she, Lola, and Tommy have had meetings with the director, writers, and actors on how to handle Charlotte and Razzle with sensitivity, but Penny never talks to Jupiter about it, she knows Jupiter, for lack of a better phrase, would rather be surprised by the movie.

So their expectations are low by the time the premiere comes around, but they’re going all out, getting ready with Penny and the hair and makeup team they’ve hired for the occasion.

Dark hair dark eyes, the makeup and hair women do a fantastic job, and Penny’s quiet for a long moment after the reveal.

“They did good?” Jupiter asks with a sharp smile, and Penny gives her a strange smile, a nod, but no words leave her lips. Jupiter doesn’t quite know how to take that, so they get dressed, leather shorts over ripped fishnets, knee-high black platforms that make them taller than any person should rightly be. They’d inherited most of Tommy’s height, which now, with six-inch platforms, is more of a curse than a blessing at 6′7″, but it doesn’t matter. They pull on the spiked bra, and leave their room with Lola’s jacket in their arms.

And Penny is silent.

“Holy shit.” Soft, eyes wide and awed, Penny takes them in, and Jupiter feels a strange sort of discomfort. “You look just like her.” Penny looks stunning in her own right, in a gorgeous, vintage-inspired jumpsuit, hair styled big, looking every bit like her parents’ daughter. Before her words could really sink in, she’s giving a bright smile, rifling through her bag, “we should get a polaroid; Andy and Sami asked if I could send a photo of us from tonight.”

They get a photo together, wait for it to develop before sending it to both the kids’ groupchat, affectionately titled Bastards Incorporated, as well as the group text Penny’d started with the rest of Hanoi Rocks after visiting them a few years ago.

Sami Yaffa sends back ‘holy shit pennylope and kid lee!! what a blast from the past’ and Jupiter feels like they’re hearing that a lot lately. He follows it with a few kind words about how authentic they look, and how their parents would be proud. Penny pretends like she isn’t tearing up a little at that, and Jupiter pretends like they don’t take the comment as a compliment.

Meanwhile, in Bastards Incorporated, populated by the various Lee and Sixx children, amid compliments, Cyrus has changed Jupiter’s nickname from Daddy Kink to Electra Complex 😘 and Cerie is sending selfies from the limousine that’s on it’s way to Jupiter and Penny.

[Jupiter] Electra Complex 😘: cyrus im gonna break all the bones in your arm [Cyrus] DJ Dumbass: im ambidextrous [Jupiter] Electra Complex 😘: *arms [Cerie] Evil Cyrus sent a photo to Bastards Incorporated. [Penelope] the only valid lee: Cerie sTOP you look incredible!! [Cerie] Evil Cyrus ❤️ reacted. [Jupiter] Electra Complex 😘: wait is that SEO NOT WEARING A HOODIE [Seo] King of the Ripsticks ❤️ reacted. [Cerie] Evil Cyrus sent a photo to Bastards Incorporated. [Penelope] the only valid lee: SEO YOU LOOK SO GOOOOOOOD [Seo] King of the Ripsticks ❤️ reacted. [Seo] King of the Ripsticks: 🤵

Since turning 18, no-one outside of the family has seen Seo’s face without his hoodie and sunglasses, a personal choice, and kind of a gimmick to make him more memorable in the skating scene, so when Penny and Jupiter slide into the limousine to see him dressed to the nines, in a powder blue suit with his hair blown out, it comes as a welcome surprise, and they both shower him with compliments.

“Oi!” Cyrus cuts in where he’s sitting opposite them beside his twin, “what about me?”

“You look like a rat,” Jupiter tells him, despite how well dressed he also was. Cyrus flips them off, “Cerie you look stunning.” Jupiter tells her with a warm sincerity, and Cerie gives a toothy grin. Cerie’s always had the makings of a model, and in a sparkling, champagne colored dress and understated makeup, she’ll outshine them all with ease.

“Come on,” Cyrus whined, before tugging at the lapels of his jacket, doing the bottom button up, putting on his most winning grin as he turned on Penny, “come on, Pen, thoughts?” And Penny, ever the favourite cousin, humours him.

“You look great, Cy; I can’t believe you’re wearing a keyboard tie, but somehow it looks good on you, bud,” and at her praise, Cyrus practically preens.

“I can’t believe you’re dressed as mom,” Cerie’s a little disbelieving when she finally takes in Jupiter’s attire, quickly making mention that they look spectacular, it’s just a little jarring.

“You look -”

“Just like her, I know,” Jup gives a tired smile, and pulls out a hand mirror to touch up their lipstick, “it’s kind of the point.”

They all enthuse about the film, about the story they’re about to witness, about how it’s probably going to be weird to see their parents like that - Penny is quiet. And Jupiter takes her hand without a word.

They step out onto the red carpet one at a time, first the twins, Cyrus leading like the peacock he is, followed by Cerie, then Seo. Jupiter goes to leave, but Penny won’t move, won’t let go of their hand.

“What if they tell it wrong, after everything, they tell it wrong?” She asks, a shake in her voice that Jupiter knows all too well.

“Then we’ll burn the theatre to the ground -”

“Don’t be like Lola for just a fucking minute, Jup; this is really important to me, I know you don’t get it, but arson won’t fix if they’ve ruined my family’s memory, you know?”

Jupiter pauses for a long moment before wrapping Penny up in a hug, just as she had so many times for Jupiter before. Penny dabs delicately at her eyes before her tears can ruin her makeup.

“Our family wouldn’t let them release anything that didn’t do your parents justice; you wouldn’t sign off on anything that wouldn’t do them justice.” Jupiter tells her with the utmost seriousness, though Penny’s expression is still doubtful.

“But what if I got it wrong?”

“Penelope Dingley Lee, first of her name, if your parents were here, they’d be so immeasurably proud of you, because they loved you more than anything else in the world,” they took Penny’s face in their hands, made sure she was looking at them, “you couldn’t fail them even if you tried.”

Together, they face the crowd, who go wild at the sight of them, and smile like this isn’t one of the most uniquely strange and painful experiences of their lives. Flashbulbs go off and Jupiter strikes pose after pose, soaking up the attention with Penny by their side. They get to their siblings, to the rest of their family, there’s shock, and surprise, and when they look at Lola, wearing a black, velvet dress with her hair slicked back, she’s shocked.

“Look at you,” Tommy marvels with a million-watt smile, “this is one hell of a stunt, kiddo, you look fantastic!” And he wraps them up in a hug, looking proud as punch.

Mick is laughing harder than Jupiter’s ever seen him laugh before, and Vince and Nikki are wearing almost identically fond and disbelieving smiles. But Lola is unreadable.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Mick makes his way to Jupiter, pats them fondly, and Jupiter makes a point of patting his head with their enhanced height, “you wear it well, kiddo; didn’t realise those two had good genes to pass on but it seems they did.” Tommy, who overheard the remark, sees Mick’s good-natured smile and teasing tone, and flips him off with a smile of his own, while Lola snickers.

“Fuck you, you geezer,” she tells him with a well worn fondness, before looking back at her child, who suddenly feels strangely nervous, though they try their best to cover it with bravado.

“They say I look like you,” Jupiter says with a smirk, and Lola shakes her head, expression turning amused. The rest of the family and the band is busy taking photos, but Lola tentatively approaches Jupiter, asks if she can hug them. Jupiter, who’s never really been one for physical contact, acquiesces, bending to hug their mother.

“You have a much better head on your shoulders than I did at your age,” Lola mutters, and gives Jupiter a squeeze, before adding, “you look so badass, sweetheart.”

Jupiter has no idea what they were expecting, but this almost definitely wasn’t it. Lola and Jupiter get countless photos together, and in the moments that follow, when the cast arrive, Alicia almost doubles over with laughter, crowing about how they should have cast Jup instead. The three of them get a photo together, and it’s one of the proudest moments of Lola’s life.

Focus from Jupiter dies down as people are splitting off to get photos with their doubles; Max and Josie tug Penny away to get a cheesy family photo with her, while the band and cast were taking side by side comparisons.

By the time Douglas has reintroduced himself to Seo, not recognizing him without his hoodie and sunglasses,the rest of Lola’s kids are doing an incredibly poor job of hiding their laughter.

“Dude, who is that?” Colson asks Jupiter, trying his hardest to be discrete. Jupiter raises their eyebrows, casting their gaze to Seo before looking back at Colson.

“That’s my brother.”

“How many do you have?”

“Four.”

“And that one’s -”

“Seo.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Colson half laughs, looking back at where Seo was taking photos of Cerie on her phone for her instagram, “are you- that’s Seo? Seo! Dude!” He calls, and Seo looks over in their general direction, flashes a toothy smile, before turning back. “That dude was under that hoodie that whole time? Guess I owe Daniel five bucks.”

“What?” Jupiter laughs, and Colson looks a little sheepish, wrapping an arm around them as a photographer calls their names.

“We all had a bet about what was under his hood,” Colson tells them, posing for the camera, “Iwan’s money was on alopecia -”

“He thought Seo just had no hair?” Jupiter snorted.

“I was thinking embarrassing face tattoo, Doug had weird-coloured hair, and Daniel had -”

“Regular dude?”

“Weirdly handsome dude, actually, and I can’t believe he’s spot on -”

“And I can’t believe you seem to have a thing for my whole family,” Jupiter gave him a gentle shove, while Colson gave a rougish grin.

“Only ‘cos if I think too hard about you, lookin’ the way you look, we’re not gonna make it to the actual movie,” he murmured in their ear, and Jupiter swallowed hard, smile widening on their face.

“The movie starts in half an hour; meet me in the second story bathroom in ten minutes,” and with that, they split, each moving to take more photos, Colson doing a few interviews while Jupiter made their way to the bathroom discretely.

Before he leaves, Colson can’t help but say hello to the oldest Sixx child; Seo squints at him for a moment before smiling.

“Hey man, good to see you,” he says, and without a doubt, that’s Seo’s unflappable baritone.

“Gotta say, man, you clean up nice, almost didn’t recognise you,” Colson admits, wrapping an arm around Seo’s shoulders as they take a few pictures together. Seo looks at whoever calls his name loudest, smiling brightly. “How you doing man?”

“Great, man, like a pig in shit,” he says, “can you do me a favour?”

“Depends, what’s up?”

“Point me in Penny’s direction; she’s wearing the same colour thing as Cyrus and I am fucking lost,” he laughs, and Colson does a double take, which Seo seems to miss, “Cerie was right, I should have just worn my damn glasses.”

“Dude, are you blind?”

“Legally, yeah, can’t properly see anything that’s not six inches away from my face.” And suddenly things are make a lot more sense.

“Your sunglasses are prescription, aren’t they?” Colson steers him in the direction of Penny, who caught sight of the pair of them, meeting them in the middle.

“Bingo,” Seo tells him with a grin, before letting Penny tuck her arm in his. After a beat, he adds, “thanks Daniel.”

“Actually I’m -” Colson goes to correct, actually a little embarrassed, but Seo snickers.

“It’s a joke, Kells, I know it’s you,” and he adds, “Jup left like twelve minutes ago, if you were looking for her.” And it’s eerie that he knows that he was. But it sounds like a blessing, if anything, and Colson tries to get away as unnoticed as possible.

[Cyrus] DJ Dumbass sent a photo to Bastards Incorporated. [Cyrus] DJ Dumbass: JUPITER WHERE U @ UR BOYFRIENDS ESCAPING [Jupiter] Electra Complex 😘: none of your business [Cyrus] DJ Dumbass: :O [Penelope] the only valid lee: they’re really in character ;) [Cyrus] DJ Dumbass: lmao what if i sent a screenshot to lola [Cyrus] DJ Dumbass: Jup [Cyrus] DJ Dumbass: @Electra Complex 😘 Penelope changed Cyrus’s nickname to QUIT SNITCHIN MFKER. [Cyrus] QUIT SNITCHIN MFKER: they’re not even RESPONDING [Cyrus] QUIT SNITCHIN MFKER: @Electra Complex 😘 this is the fuckin funniest i can’t believe you’ve been possessed by the spirit of 80s mom on tonight of all nights [Penelope] the only valid lee: since they aren’t here to defend themselves, cyrus im gonna rip out ya spine mortal kombat style [Seo] King of the Ripsticks and [Cerie] Evil Cyrus ❤️ reacted. [Cerie] Evil Cyrus: a threat jup would be proud of [Penelope] the only valid lee ❤️ reacted. [Cyrus] QUIT SNITCHIN MFKER: thats fair

Jupiter doesn’t mind, just this once, that history, in it’s own twisted way, repeats itself. If both of them look a little too pleased, a little too rumpled, no-one comments; it’s in the spirit of the film after all.

#tommy lee #Razzle Dingley #razzle x charlotte #lola & charlotte #mgk x jupiter #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker #colson baker imagine #mgk #mgk imagine #the angry lizard writes

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