#my compromise is to give one of the girls a fade and figure something else out for the curse ig

[nyan-bynary]

I CAN'T KEEP GIVING EVERY WOMAN AND MAN AN UNDERCUT I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS I NEED TO GOVE THEM DIFFERENT HAIR I NEED TO STOP

[afictionaladventure16]

Remember Me (Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader)

Chapter 14

Remember Me Masterlist

Previously on Remember Me... 

Word Count: 2,152

Warnings: violence

A/N: I don’t want to spoil anything but there is some stuff that happens within this chapter that will be explained within the chapter... if that makes sense... If you are still confused then please message me and I will gladly explain it to you! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 

As soon as Roger left the room it had become clear to you that Zemo didn’t want a mission report. The frustrated yell that escaped Zemo’s lips made it evident. Your body trembled as you sat in the familiar chair, the armrests were cool to the touch, but it wasn’t a soothing coolness, it wasn’t a cool breeze on a summer day. No. It was deathly. It was as if you were sitting on stone, your hands shook as you clamped them together, watching as Zemo paced in front of you. Glancing down at your clamped hands, they were not tied. You’re okay. You looked back up at Zemo, it has been said that a human’s mind only uses a small percentage of its own capability and the longer you stared at Zemo, the more you hoped something would happen like in that movie Roger had shown you. Matilda. Part of you hoped that he would just explode, maybe if you thought it hard enough, but it was no use. The only thing you were capable of was the sparks that came out from your hands. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that your father was Thor. All you needed was a flying hammer. 

“He’s the reason why this is failing,” Zemo muttered under his breath. His fingers on his chin, giving it a gentle rub as he thought to himself. His mind floated from one frantic thought to another. He’s been compromised, a word any narcissist with a plan hates to hear; a word that has failure written all over it. He couldn’t have that on his name. Not again. Zemo needed this mission to succeed because he needed to have more power. 

“Who?” One of the doctors questioned as they looked up from their work. They had been listening in and out of the things Zemo had been saying. Their minds mostly focused on the machines in front of them along with the paperwork.

“Who do you think!?” Zemo yelled in frustration as he turned to the doctors, his hands flying up and then down to his side, placing them on his hips. How could they not see it? It drove him crazy. He gave his hair a tug, hoping it’ll help the pounding in his head. “It’s the only explanation, he knows this mission like the back of his hand. How else would the Avengers be on to us?” 

“You’re overthinking it,” the same doctor informed Zemo. “The paranoia of failing is getting to you. You didn’t succeed with the Winter Soldier, but our soldier.” he glanced over at you. “This one is better. The chance of failing is low.” The doctor wore an arrogant smile as he gave you a glance, it sent shivers down your spine. 

“There is still a chance,” Zemo whispered. He whipped around, his eyes landing on you. Your heart quickens as your eyes widened with fear. “We start over,” Zemo said as if he had just had the best idea. “We kill him, and bring in a new soldier to become the quote-unquote guardian.” 

“That is ridiculous!” The doctor exclaimed. “You do this and the Avengers will surely know our plan!” 

“And we keep him alive and they’ll have a man on the inside!” Zemo argued, waving his hands like a maniac. He was becoming dry of ideas, yet there was still a hint of denial inside Zemo that his plan was indeed flawed.  

Sitting down on the cold chair, even without restraints, you felt helpless. All you could do was sit and watch it all unfold, your mind, a clueless water lily in an eye of a hurricane, wondering how the hell you got into this situation. “B-but what if he isn’t?” Your eyes widened with shock as you heard your own voice, your mouth had a mind of its own. Zemo whipped his head around to look at you, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to pinpoint what you were trying to get at. “If he isn’t then aren’t you just killing an innocent man?” 

Suddenly, the door is thrown open. Roger storms in, dragging a woman alongside him. Her legs dragged on the floor slightly as Roger held her by the waist. You weren’t sure if she had any injuries, but you knew whoever this lady was, she wasn’t a part of Zemo’s team. 

You got up from the chair, unable to see the woman's face. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Zemo smirks, walking closer to the woman that Roger had thrown to the ground. She landed on all fours, letting out a huff as the palms of her hands met the cold cement. 

“Found her sneaking around the halls,” Roger spat. 

You inched around, finally getting a peek at the woman's face. A small gasp escapes your lips when you realize it’s Natasha. Her eyes darted over to you, tears began to well up in her eyes. Now you know that Zemo’s plan was surely compromised. She had seen your face, she now knows what you are a part of, yet that didn’t seem to be a worry for Zemo at the moment. 

Zemo stepped in front of your view of Natasha. Roger walked over to you, pulling you away from the situation. 

“Roger,” you whispered. You looked up at him, but all he did was give you a small nod before looking up at the ceiling. You didn’t say anything to Roger, but it was as if he had already known what you wanted to say. The softness in his eyes said it all. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Roger said softly 

“But-” A loud crash interrupted you and next thing you knew, Bucky was on the ground in front of you. He jumped to his feet, drawing his gun, but his eyes glanced over at you now and then. It was as if you were distracting him. You knew it must be quite a shock for Bucky to see one of his students in these situations. To find out that one of his students was working against him. Your heart ached at the thought. Or did he think you had been kidnapped? What did he know? Was he briefed before getting here? What did this mean for the mission? What did this mean for you? You glance over to Zemo as his eyes are focused on Bucky. 

Zemo chuckled, “It’s been too long, Sergeant Barnes.” His smirk grew. “I’m sorry I didn’t properly see you last time, but with our last meeting, I’m sure you understand why I had to use a T.V…” 

Bucky didn’t say a word, for his mind began to become clouded. The fact that his daughter was just standing inches away from him was distracting, it was taking everything within him to withhold the action to run up to her and hug her. Maybe Fury was right, they couldn’t do this mission, it was too personal. His emotions were taking over his mind. 

“You remember Widows Bite right?” Zemo said as he motioned towards you. “Or as you two know her by, Jessica.” Bucky had to focus, he couldn’t mess up now, not if he wanted to bring his daughter home. “I hope you remember her now. She is the spitting image of the two of you.” 

Zemo laughs as your face contorts in confusion. “Wait, what?” 

Zemo couldn’t risk it anymore. He knew if he wanted to capture Black Widow and the Winter Soldier, it had to be done by their daughter. Yet, he had hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this, he had been warned that the code wasn’t ready. The girl still had a lot of training to do, but it didn’t matter anymore. Not to Zemo. 

“I’m sorry I am going to have to cut this reunion short.” Zemo glanced back over to you. “Желание” (longing)

“That doesn’t work for me anymore,” Bucky said, his finger lingering on the trigger. 

“I know,” Zemo said with a smirk as he glanced over at you before speaking up again “Ржавый ” (rusted) You felt something inside you begin to stir, you begin to wince at the pounding in your head. “три” (three) you fell to your knees, letting out an excruciating scream. Bucky quickly dropped his gun at the sound of your scream, attempting to aid your side, but was quickly grabbed by the guards that were hiding within the shadows. His heart quickened as he watched you crouch down in pain, letting out a growl as he looked over at Zemo. 

“This isn’t for you,” Zemo said as he looked over at Bucky, who was now being held down by guards, they had placed special handcuffs on him. Handcuffs that were made to hold the Winter Soldier. 

“What the hell are you doing to her!” Bucky yelled, but he knew all too well what was happening. All too familiar with the pain his daughter was currently going through. The fight that is going on inside her, it would feel like someone inside of her tearing her apart, ripping her to shreds as someone who isn’t you took over your body.

“She isn’t ready for this!” One of the doctors yelled at Zemo. He glared at the doctor with flames in his eyes. The doctor quickly backed down after that. 

“Рассвет” (Daybreak) Natasha was being held down by a couple of guards as well, tears forming in her eyes as she watched her down in pain. 

“Zemo, you motherfucker! Stop!” Natasha pleaded. 

But Zemo took pleasure in seeing the torture within the parent’s eyes as their daughter transformed into his greatest creation. “Молния” (Lightning) you clenched your fists, you felt yourself fading quickly, almost as if someone was taking over your body. 

“Stop. Please,” you begged as you looked over at Zemo.  

He had a mischievous smile on his face as he watched you unfold into, what he thought is, one of his greatest creations. “But the fun has just begun, my darling.” Zemo watched you for a few seconds, “тысяча” (Thousand). 

Roger never saw mentions of trigger words in your documents. He never saw any mention of the doctors working on you for such a thing. He thought he had this plan all figured out, that his plan wasn’t as flawed as Zemo’s mission, but he was wrong. Now all he could do was stand and watch as you become Zemo’s puppet once and for all. 

“Добросердечный” (benign) Your heart raced. “Возвращение на Родину” (homecoming) Zemo palms were beginning to sweat as the end of the sequence was coming close, anxious to see his creations come alive “Два” (two).

“You see, Sergeant Barnes,” Zemo glanced over at Natasha, “Ms. Romanoff. Barnes isn’t the only one who has trigger words. We’ve been experimenting with this for a long time and while you all may have hacked into our system, this here… this here was never in the system. Only a selected few were allowed to know the code.” Zemo then glanced back over to you. Ready to let the last syllabus slip out of his tongue, ready to finally bring down his enemies. He will no longer be a fool. A failure. No. To Zemo, he will now be a success story. Oh, how he dreamed of this day.

 "I fucking knew it, Roger! You lied to us! We shouldn't have trusted you!" Bucky spat as he tried to barge over to Roger but the restraints refrained him from moving. One of the guards pushed him down on his knees.

 "I swear, I didn't know about this!" Roger exclaimed as he continued to look with horror in his eyes at what Zemo had done. 

 Zemo's eyes danced between Roger and Bucky, letting out a scoff as he stared at Roger. "I knew we had a traitor in our hands." He looked over to one of the guards giving him a small nod. They ran over to Roger, handcuffing him. "I'll have to deal with the traitor later, but right now, my greatest creation is about to perform and I'd hate for you to miss it."  

 “Лес” (Forest) As the last syllable left Zemo’s mouth, you were no longer in control. Now you were just a bystander in your body. “Soldat?” You got up from your position on the floor, Zemo looked over at Bucky, making sure he was watching, for this was better than what Zemo had planned. Zemo was cherishing every single second of it.

 He glanced back over to you, your eyes lingered at Zemo for a second and within that second Bucky and Natasha hoped it didn’t work. They hoped that the plan had failed for Zemo once again, that their daughter had not become the next winter soldier. “готов собл��дать” (ready to comply) and with those words, Bucky and Natasha’s world began to fall apart once again.

  Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @otomefan @dejaazaro @culturebay @kpopishilarious @fireproof-heaven @iloveyouthreethousand-o6  @weappreciatepower @whereyoustand  @white-wolf-buckaroo @spider-woman22 @coffee-habit @supernaturallover2002 @barnes-parker @therealmrshale @myinternetissoslow @myhippiehopes @celyndavies @xzowiex @ximaginx @wooshytooshy @ellaorelizabeth @rororo06  @chloe-geoghegan1 @hdthdthdt @sophie-barnes26 @thamuddagirl @scarletmeii @ssebstann @fangirl31415 @thepeggyann @lauren-novak @reerrrrskillz @snarky--starky @glitterquadricorn @lady-of-lies  @cassmoreiraxo @just4muggles @mellorine-paprika  @agirlruinedbybands @yougottalovefandoms @avngrsinitiative @lizlil

Remember Me Taglist (CLOSED): @fabinaforever11 @eclipwzee @whitelotus13 @yourwonderbelle @blackbannerx @hollandsaetre @hailqueenconquer @mellxander1993 @iwamaye2 @cookies186 @tywys @princessizzy36 @boney-and-skinny @fmb158581 @vapingisntmything @widowbitessting @marvelsswansong @stat89posts @abswritesfandoms @feminist-fan-girl @royale-trash-slytherin @jupiterspoet @blancastans @brckenmemories @lovefairytailforever @witch-of-letters @rdjparker  @sebastiansmadden @benhardyseyes @sakourim @fools-fallforyou @s-p-a-c-e-g-a-l @thatsuperherosidekick @bethany-z @all-fandomthings @shikshinkwon @majorlyextra @werenotloverss @mottergirl99 @delicatefirespyplaid @sweetcarolinestudies @lazyoswald @thomasthetankson

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @acalmandquietplace @sleepylunarwolf @alicat-life @captaiinameriicasass @noobmaster63  @pleasantlysecretdream @xiumin-girl99 @thejourneyneverendsx @thewintersoldier1124 @scarletmeii @imjusthereforsupernatural  @latsyrc85x @dyckvindyck @dumblani @vapingisntmything @viarogers @supermoonchildbroski @beepbeepmarie  @notice-me-tc @cooflix @hollandsaetre @infinity-saga @marvelsexlol @multifandomwriter121 @charismas-world @marrgaux @biss-stuff @fortunatelynerdylight @deephideoutmilkshake @just-a-random-fangirls-blog

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @sleepylunarwolf @alicat-life @Noobmaster63 @Ballerboobitch @kayleigh2703 @xiumin-girl99 @adriennechavez @becauseilovebooks @supermoonchildbroski @beepbeepmarie @the-lady-cersei-lannister @hollandsaetre @infinity-saga @marvelsexlol @fortunatelynerdylight @thesuitelifeofafangirl @ima-gi--na-tion @just-a-random-fangirls-blog

Want to be added to a taglist? CLICK HERE

[nelllraiser]

garlic dread | milo & nell

TIMING: the middle of spring, before the portals opened. PARTIES: @wickedmilo & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: milo just wants to help nell with her plants, but nell has other plans.

With spring coming into its prime, Nell’s garden had been thriving in addition to her greenhouse. During the time she’d been struggling to pay off her hospital debt, watching the numbers of new flowers in her garden dwindle had been one of the hardest cutbacks, the blooms and otherwise being one of her simpler joys in life. But now that her father had paid off the hospital without the witch’s permission, it meant that she was able to spend a little more money than usual on some new little plants and the like. Which was how she found herself walking home with a plethora of green and leafy friends in her arms, barely able to see over the lot of them as she made her way out of the plant nursery. She was nearly out of eyeshot from the other townies— which meant she was only steps away from being able to freely use her magic when another person caught the corner of her eye. Where the hell had he come from? She was instantly annoyed despite the fact that the young man couldn’t have any inkling of his unintentional meddling. Hopefully with any luck he’d disappear soon enough of his own accord, and then she’d be able to hover her new plants home with minimal effort. Another look towards the guy had her brow scrunching up in thought. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place why.

Milo wasn’t sure he would ever get used to smelling people before he saw them. It was a strange, and uncomfortable instinct. Usually he discovered he wasn’t alone through sight, or through sound. The regular ways. But when the fresh scent of vegetation and potted soil managed to reach him on the evening breeze, he glanced upwards, curious to see where it was coming from. There was a woman on the other side of the road, walking towards him with her arms full. He could only assume she was an avid gardener, nobody else would buy quite so much when they knew they needed to carry it home. For a while, he was too distracted by her plants to pay any real attention to her face, but as she grew closer he began to recognise her from high school. What was her name? Was it Penelope? He felt sure it was, but he also had a feeling nobody ever actually called her that. Jeez, it was so difficult remembering back on a time where he had barely been present. Always high, or on the verge of inebriation. If somebody wasn’t his friend, they faded away almost immediately after graduation. Regardless, it felt rude not to offer his help. He had been meeting so many people from his past, as of late. This could be an opportunity to make a new friend, somebody who didn’t know what a mess he was. “Hey!” He called from where he was standing across the road, there were no cars, so he knew she would have no trouble hearing him. “Any chance you want some help?” 

Highschool maybe? Was it highschool that she knew him from? Nell didn’t really want to ask, not when she was trying to hurry home, and get this guy out of her hair so that she could get her magic up and going. “Yeah- no thanks,” she dropped her reply quickly, taking on a fairly dismissive tone, hoping he’d catch the hint and leave her alone. Still...it was nagging her that she couldn’t place his face. It was definitely from highschool, but she’d had barely a handful of friends back then, and everyone else knew well enough to just leave her alone. Even though the normies couldn’t have known she was actually a witch, that didn’t stop the age-old fear of things they didn’t understand from settling in when it came to Nell Vural.

At first, they’d been taught it by their parents at the hands of a disastrous childhood birthday party where a kindergarten aged Nell had accidentally summoned a swarm of Wolpertingers out of her birthday cake. From then on, all it’d taken for her schoolmates to avoid her was a couple of violent altercations born of shitty people and her temper, and a few more mystic incidents for them to steer clear and whisper behind her back. But they’d had no problems coming to her when they wanted something more salacious, hook-ups underneath and bleachers and in empty classrooms. Apparently it had been fine enough to screw the creepy magic girl, just not get on her nerves or be her friend.

Milo faltered as Penelope turned down his offer, both surprised and irritated by the way she casually brushed him off. He was trying to be friendly, not to mention the fact that he recognised her from high school. She had every right to say no, of course. But he felt like he had decent grounds to be annoyed. If anything, it was an opportunity for good company, a mutual opportunity. Crossing the road without looking, confident he would hear any cars if they got too close, he raised his eyebrows at her. “I’m going to assume you have no idea who I am.” He half teased. “But I swear I’m not a creeper about to follow you home. Come on, let me help.” He gestured to the plants in her arms, knowing he didn’t need to point out how overwhelmed she was by her load. “I’m trying this new thing where I’m not an asshole, you know? This would really help my credibility.” 

Nell. The name came back to him suddenly, along with the reputation she had once managed to build for herself. He had stayed largely out of her way, watching her arguments in the corridor from afar, listening when people whispered about her while making no move to acknowledge the rumours. Honestly, anybody willing to say ‘fuck you’ to societal standards and enjoy sex for what it was had his respect. But it made him wonder why he had never gotten to know her back then. Given what was so often said, she seemed very much like his kind of person. Had she changed since? He definitely had, in more ways than one. “Nell, right?” He asked, unable to help himself. “It’s Milo… Summers. I used to hang around with Kyle.” He had no idea whether she even knew who Kyle was, but given they had both spent most of their days filling the boy’s bathroom with smoke, he figured she had probably heard of him.

To be honest, Nell didn’t entirely mind if some random guy from highschool got caught in the crossfire of her impatience— especially when she was over eager to get home, and get her plants all settled in. Was it rude? Probably. Would she ever see the guy again, and did she really care when she hadn’t even known him well enough to properly attach a name to face? Probably not. She simply raised a brow as he confirmed that no- she couldn’t quite place him within the confines of her highschool memories. “I’m not worried about you following me home.” It most likely wouldn’t turn out great for someone anyway if they decided to follow a girl back to the house where three witches, a reanimated corpse, and a literal demon dog lived. He was trying not to be an asshole? Why did she have to be a part of that when she just wanted to get home as fast as possible? 

Popping her mouth open to give him another denying reply bordering on rude, surprise flit over her face when he managed to remember her name— which quickly turned to intrigue as he mentioned the name Milo in conjunction with Kyle. Oh shit, this was Milo. The same Milo that had been hanging around the werewolf during the time he’d been turned. Along with his name came a few more vague memories from her school days, finally recalling him to be someone along the lines of a stoner who was often in detention. “Oh- Milo, right,” her expression instantly shifted into one that was much more open now that she realized he was actually someone she wanted to talk to. “That’s funny- I was actually just talking to Kyle the other day, and he mentioned you.” Milo didn’t need to know that it had been in the middle of Nell’s moonsitting. Ugh, she supposed this meant she should let him carry a couple things. “Sorry- I was just excited to get home.” She could be perfectly amiable when she wanted something, and she definitely wanted to know more about Kyle during his days around being bitten.

Milo could pinpoint the exact moment Nell began to realise who he was. He had no doubt in his mind her memories were vague, or based primarily on hearsay, but it would be hypocritical of that to bother him when his memories of her were the very same. “That’s me.” He agreed. “If you ever caught me in any compromising positions, now is the time to forget- you know, for the sake of my dignity.” He teased, laughing at his own joke. “I’d rather be judged on my new mistakes, of which I’m sure there will be many.” Her expression was far more open now, almost warm as she observed him, he wondered what she was thinking. It didn’t take her long to sate his curiosity. “Oh, you were?” He asked, his smile growing at the mention of his friend. He had only recently learned of Kyle’s lycanthropy, but strangely he found the knowledge comforting. He felt closer to him now than he had when they were at school together, despite seeing him then on a near daily basis. “What did he say? Good things, I hope?” Grinning easily, he glanced down at the plants still balanced in her arms. “Excited to get home because of this? Isn’t it a little late to be buying vegetation?” Holding out his arms, insisting she pass over some of her items, he caught her eye again, hoping she could see that he was trustworthy, and being sincere in his offer. “Here, come on… I swear I really do just want to help.”

Had she caught him in compromising positions? Maybe once or twice when they’d shared a detention, but highschool seemed so far away by now that sometimes it felt like an entirely different lifetime all together. “Sure- the sake of your dignity,” Nell echoed, biting off a teasing remark about how she wasn’t sure she could spare something he didn’t have. But she was going to be nice, she reminded herself. People didn’t talk to women about their werewolf friends if they thought they were an asshole. “But yeah- I just saw him right around the full moon,” she dropped casually, wondering if the phrase would trigger anything in Milo. Did he know about Kyle and his wolfy tendencies? “Honestly, it was so late when we were talking I barely even remember what we were saying,” she lied easily, not missing a beat. “But I doubt it was anything good if you’re that concerned,” she teased, testing the waters of what she could get away with. While he held out his arms, she let out an internal sigh, knowing she’d have to let him help if she wanted to get information from him. “I have a greenhouse,” she explained while carefully handing him a few of the plants, already feeling rather overprotective about letting him carry them. “It’s not too far from here.”

Milo grinned, glad Nell was willing to play along with his joke. “Much appreciated.” He replied, nodding his head with mock sincerity. But his smile quickly faltered as the conversation circled back around to Kyle. The full moon. It was such a specific thing to say. It jumped out at him, almost startling him out of his lighthearted demeanour. Did she know? He couldn’t see any other reason for her to mention the lunar cycle. So was she testing him? Trying to figure out whether he had also been trusted with the information? Hurrying to compose himself, he could only hope she hadn’t noticed his expression slip. “That’s a weird fucking way to measure time.” He teased, doing everything he could to sound casual. “Do you not own a calendar? Like a normal one, without moons on it?” Forcing a quiet laugh, he actually wouldn’t be surprised if Kyle had nothing decent to say about him. He wasn’t particularly worried, the reason they got along so well was due to that very fact. 

Feeling a strange sense of triumph when his company finally handed over some of her plants, despite not knowing much about her, he could see how much she cared for them. He made an effort to be gentle, holding them as though they were delicate, and breakable so that he wouldn’t cause any damage. Despite genuinely wanting to be of assistance, it would also help to earn her trust, and for some unknown reason, he found he really wanted to. “Define not too far?” He prompted. “Did I accidentally volunteer to walk miles with this stuff?” 

The hesitation in his smile was caught by Nell’s sharp eyes. She might not have noticed it if she hadn’t been looking for any hitch in Milo’s demeanor, but the falter was more than enough for Nell to continue her digging. “You know how White Crest is-” she began, careful to keep the levity in her words. “-always obsessed with the moon and her cycles along with ten million other weird things that wouldn’t fly in other towns. So what if my calendar has moons on it?” She didn’t need to get into the fact that Milo would be hard pressed to find a person that adored the moon more than a werewolf or spellcaster did. The two were generally unified in their waxing poetic of the big, powerful, and glowing lady in the sky. “Kyle didn’t think it was weird that I like the full moon.” Perhaps she was coming on a little too strongly, but if Milo didn’t know what she was referring to, it wouldn’t matter. Normies didn’t generally assume that any mention of the full moon and a person meant the guy in question was a werewolf. 

The greenhouse was Nell’s haven, a place that only a select group of people were allowed to enter, and she already had plans to leave Milo at the door of it once they arrived on property. “Are you gonna complain after you did this to yourself?” she teased back, her steps taking them further into the dense trees of the nearby woods. The Vural home was a part of the Outskirts and the forest that made up the less populated area. “It’s just through the woods a bit.”

Milo wanted to counter Nell’s point, to tell her she was being ridiculous, and laugh at how pretentious she sounded, like he might have once upon a time. But now he knew she was right, now he knew far too much about what happened below the surface of his sleepy, unassuming hometown, and he couldn’t bring himself to disagree. “Said you and every other tumblr girl obsessed with astrology.” He muttered, figuring that would have to be enough. If he abruptly dropped his teasing then she would notice, he knew she would. “Maybe Kyle is also a tumblr girl obsessed with astrology.” He countered, his mind still working to process the strange words leaving Nell’s mouth. It all felt calculated somehow, as though she was carefully choosing them to elicit some form of reaction. But what did she want from him? What was she expecting him to say?

“Oh, I complain no matter what.” He insisted. “Did Kyle not tell you? It’s one of my more favourable traits.” He followed her as she led him into the forest, wondering where her house was located. He only knew the houses in town, and maybe a few of the buildings on the outskirts. He felt stupid for not realising some people needed to walk through wooded areas to get to their homes. “It’s just through the woods a bit sounds like the last thing somebody hears before they’re murdered.” He pointed out, offering her a smile over the plants in his arms so that she would know he wasn’t being serious. Besides, he had already been murdered once. Surely that lowered his chances of being murdered for a second time. That or he had the worst luck in the history of mankind. “You aren’t luring me out here to kill me, are you?” 

Nell’s eyes rolled seemingly without command, all too used to being compared to the cottagecore girls that love to emulate spellcaster culture and teachings. The humans loved to play pretend until a real witch was staring them in the face, and they realized their fear of the unknown outweighed their desire for crystal and starry aesthetics. Subtly was not her aim while she continued on, wondering if she could simply pressure Milo into revealing whether he knew Kyle’s secret or not. “That’s why you think Kyle has a glowing moon lamp on his wall? He’s a tumblr girl? I wouldn’t be surprised if I caught him howling at it one day,” she finished with a laugh, still waiting to see whether Milo would connect the dots. 

“Kyle told me lots of things,” Nell answered cryptically, having quickly abandoned her ‘nice girl’ act. Not that she wasn’t being nice anymore, just that she was letting more of her edge shine through. After all, fear could be a decent motivator as well. Of course she wasn’t actually here to murder the young man. She just wanted to know more about the time Kyle had been turned. With a laugh she shot Milo a coy look over her shoulder before answering his next question. “Oh no, I’m out of the human sacrifice phase right now.” It’d only been once that she’d spilled a human’s blood for magic, and she’d do it again if the situation was as dire, but for the most part she had no interest in taking human lives in exchange for magical power. 

Milo laughed, unable to help himself. “I’ve never been to Kyle’s place so I have zero knowledge of moon lamps. I have, however, seen them advertised on Instagram, so it still fits with the aesthetic.” Keeping his expression neutral at the mention of howling, it was becoming very obvious to him that Nell knew Kyle was a werewolf. He almost wanted to ask her how she knew, but if he admitted to also knowing then he would come very close to outing himself as a part of the supernatural world. Nell wasn’t his friend, this was the most they had ever spoken, so he refused to willingly make himself vulnerable. Raising his eyebrows in a show of polite interest, despite attempting to seem casual, his gaze was sharp, watching Nell for any sign or tell that might imply she was aware of his ‘undead’ status.

“He did?” He asked, almost daring her to tell him what was said. Surely Kyle wouldn’t have confided in her like that. There seemed to be an unspoken rule among the people he had met so far; you never told somebody else what a person was if you didn’t have permission to do so. Maybe there were exceptions to the rule, things he didn’t understand just yet, but he trusted Kyle not to out him. In the same way he hoped Kyle knew he could be trusted not to tell people he was a werewolf. “Hm, good to know.” He muttered in response to the joke on human sacrifice. He was glad they were able to move back into familiar territory. He enjoyed teasing, he was good at teasing. And it carried them further away from both Kyle’s predicament, and his own. “Because I’m sure I’d be a pretty useless sacrifice. Whatever demon you worship would probably send me back and ask for a working replacement.” 

“Really? It sounded like you were good friends the way he told it,” Nell commented smoothly, not actually having all that much interest in the closeness of their friendship at the moment, but figuring she should at least pretend. But her patience was wearing thin, and either Milo knew what she was speaking of or he didn’t. So with a huff and turn of her heel, she would have folded her arms over her chest if she hadn’t been holding the plants. Fixing Milo with her hardest stare, she carried on nonetheless. “Look- you either know what I’m talking about or you don’t. So just tell me if you know or not, and then we can move on.” If he thought her weird and demanding he wouldn't be the first, and most certainly not the last, but she didn’t really care about the opinion a random person from highschool might form from this interaction as long as she got to ask the questions she wanted answers to. 

“He sure did,” Nell replied with the beginnings of a smirk, giving Milo nothing when he seemed determined to do the same. Let him wonder at what Kyle had shared. Maybe he’d reveal too much by asking his own questions. “Why? Were you worried he said something about you?” It was a stab in the dark, and she had no real reason to think Milo might be worried about things he’d rather keep private. But she knew most people had something they wanted to hide. Milo most likely wouldn’t be an exception. She let him laugh at what he perceived to be a joke, waiting with a natural face until he was done, making no effort to join in. “I’m glad you thought it was funny. Demons don’t work like that, though.” Still, she was somewhat amused that he'd managed to stumble onto the demon portion of her magic. Not that he knew that.

They were close to the Vural property now, and the moonlight could be seen glittering on the glass of her greenhouse in the backyard of the house as the woods began to open up. 

“We were.” Milo clarified. “Way back when we were at school. I ran into him the other day but… that was the first time in years.” He couldn’t understand why Nell was taking such an interest, but every word out of her mouth seemed to set him more on edge. There had to be an ulterior motive here, only he couldn’t understand what it might be. His eyes widening as she suddenly decided to take a direct approach, one he definitely hadn’t been expecting, his step faltered. He wasn’t able to hide his surprise, but he did everything he could to compose himself quickly. A few beats of silence passed before he managed to find his words again, and he knew it was essentially too late. But if he admitted he knew what Kyle was, he admitted to knowing about the supernatural. That was one step too close to her realising he was a part of that world too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped. “And you’re being really fucking weird.” He gripped at her plants, angry at himself for offering to carry them. If his hands were free he would be able to walk away from this, remove himself from the situation. 

Glaring at his company, his chest tightening at her words, he wondered whether Kyle really had told her what he was. For all he knew, she hated vampires. Maybe she really did intend to kill him out here in the middle of nowhere. Who knew of his location? Nobody, and he didn’t have time to shoot anyone a text. If he disappeared now, he disappeared forever. Only Nell would ever know what happened to him. The thought caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. “Why should I be worried?” He demanded, kicking at brush, and brambles as he passed through them. “Forgive me for not knowing how demons work.” He added, more convinced than ever that this might actually be the end for him. Surely she wouldn’t risk hurting her plants though. At least he had that. She needed to wait until he put them down, and then he could reevaluate the situation. Maybe even make a break for it. 

“Really? Why’d you guys lose touch?” Did it have to do with the whole werewolf thing? Nell continued to pry, her nosiness knowing now bounds as she tried to learn more about Kyle around the time he was bitten. If she understood him and his control then, maybe it would help with teaching him control now. The second show of surprise on his face only made the witch feel even more confident about her choice to confront him, even if he wasn’t giving anything specific away. She supposed if there was one thing to be said about Milo— it was that he was loyal. Which was unfortunate for her in this situation. Still, it was good that Kyle had friends who wouldn’t easily out him. Not that she should care about Kyle and whether his friends were suitable. His snappy response had her lips pursing, her temper flaring for a moment even though she knew she’d been the cause of Milo’s new shortness. “And you’re being really fucking rude.”  She was used to being called weird, and though she’d set herself up for it, the word still held the gravity of all the times she’d been ostracized for being ‘weird’ while growing up— especially when coming from the mouth of an old classmate. “But if you wanna be a little shit about it, be my guest.”

She rolled her eyes at his comment about demons, no longer interested in curbing her words or being overtly nice now that it seemed he wasn’t going to give her any information. Nell hadn’t meant the words in a correctional way. They’d been more along the lines of informational. “Maybe you should be worried cause you’re acting exactly how people who have secrets would act.” Finally they’d arrived at her greenhouse, and she set her own plants on the ground so she could raise a charmed key to the door. If Milo hadn’t been here she would have used her magic to undo the lock that would respond only to her magical signature, but it’s be difficult to explain such a thing away. “You can put the plants down now,” she commented dryly, suddenly eager to get rid of the guy.

“We used to smoke in the bathrooms at school together. That’s not exactly something you keep doing after you graduate.” Milo pointed out. Not every friendship had a foundation strong enough to last. He knew Kyle because they shared a passion for breaking trivial school rules, and often wound up in the same detentions. Spending time together because you were essentially running on a schedule wasn’t quite the same as actively arranging to stay in contact. He was incredibly glad he had run into Kyle outside of the university, more than grateful considering Kyle was a part of his terrifying new world. But had they not crossed paths again, reaching out probably wouldn’t ever have crossed his mind. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that. “I’m being rude for pointing out you’re being weird?” He asked. “That’s bullshit.” Maybe he should feel guilty for being so cold, it was very possible Nell had good intentions. But until he knew for sure, he wasn’t giving in. And if he genuinely didn’t know about Kyle then this defensive anger would be coming very naturally to him. “I’m not being a little shit about anything, you’re the one demanding information I don’t fucking have.” 

Narrowing his eyes as Nell came to a halt in front of the door to a greenhouse, he couldn’t exactly tell her she was wrong. He did have secrets. But then again, so did everybody. He definitely wasn’t alone in that fact. “Or maybe you’re projecting.” He countered, though he had no reason to believe she was. Watching as she opened the door, it suddenly struck him that a greenhouse might count as a part of her private dwelling. There was little chance of him being able to set the plants down inside if she didn’t first invite him in. He wasn’t sure whether she would be content with him putting them down on the floor, so he hovered awkwardly in the doorway, realising after a few moments had passed that she really wasn’t about to invite him inside. Despite him carrying her plants for her, despite him trying to make polite conversation. He had only been met with a confrontational attitude, and apparently now a distinct lack of thanks. Finally putting down the plants in his arms, lining them up beside the doorway he was trapped in, when he straightened up again, he was more than ready to shoot his company a glare. “What?” He demanded, unable to help himself. “You really aren’t going to invite me in?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking rude,” Nell shot back, her own temper stoked by the appearance of Milo’s. “You think you can just go around calling people weird?” It was more the principle of the matter than anything, the fact that Milo seemingly thought he had a right to call her names and get away with it. She snorted at his claim of ignorance, still not entirely sold when it came to him knowing nothing. “I’m asking, you’re the one getting all offended about it. Which makes you a little shit,” she replied snarkily, a smugness entering her voice. 

A roll of Nell’s eyes, and she was fixing him with a withering glare from inside her greenhouse. “I don’t give a shit about people knowing stuff about me.” Or at least she specifically didn’t really mind if someone knew she was a witch. In honesty she thought it beneficial that people knew of her power. If people knew she and her sisters had power, they’d be less likely to mess with them. As for the more personal feelings in her life- those were the things she was bad at sharing, and letting people in on. She might have thanked him if she’d wanted his help in the first place, but now she wasn’t all that keen on giving him the satisfaction. At first she was pleased, and now surprised that he hadn’t walked into her greenhouse of his own accord. Had the guy finally decided to show some manners? The choice of his words were rather specific, and had her head cocking to the side with intrigue. He wanted her to invite him in? Arranging her new plants on a nearby worktable, a bulb of garlic caught her eye, and a flicker of connection fired in her brain. Well...there was only one way to find out if her newest suspicion was anything of substance. With a quick and easy flick of her wrist, she launched the garlic towards Milo without warning, savoring the flash of satisfaction she felt from the childish move. “No- I don’t think I will.”

“I mean, if they’re being weird then I don’t see an issue with it.” Milo countered, an edge to his voice to match the edge in Nell’s voice. He wasn’t exactly sure how they had ended up where they were but as far as he was concerned, she was entirely to blame. Maybe if she hadn’t pushed him, maybe if she wasn’t so desperate to talk about Kyle. “I’m not getting offended.” He added, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to wait in the doorway. “I’m getting annoyed, there’s a distinct fucking difference.” Letting out a huff of breath, he didn’t care how she felt about people knowing her information. Even if she was projecting, he was hardly interested in learning her secrets. They were probably more akin to which manure makes the best fertilizer, anyway. Something he would be more than happy to tell her. 

In fact, he was in the process of opening his mouth to do so when he was distracted by her suddenly, and very pointedly throwing an object at him. Instinctively, he reached up to cover his face. But it wasn’t until the object hit him that he was able to discern what it was. If his body’s reaction to the plant wasn’t enough to give it away, the scent was very nearly overwhelming. It was a bulb of garlic. An actual bulb of garlic. Who even grew their own? He couldn’t understand why Nell would go to the effort when you could literally buy it pre-crushed in jars. Immediately feeling a jolt of disorientation, he scrambled to bat it away, fangs protruding, eyes flashing red as the skin it made contact with began to sting. “What the fuck?” He demanded, righting himself to stare at Nell with open disbelief. He wasn’t sure whether she had chosen the garlic on purpose, or accidentally stumbled upon what he was, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew there was no point in trying to hide from her. Not now. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He raised his voice, his indignation only growing as he was given time to fully process what had happened. “Did you just- you just threw garlic at me!” 

You really aren’t going to invite me in? Milo’s words were thrown into clarity as she watched the flash of his fangs appear, and his apparent aversion for the plant became clear. “You’re a vampire.” Nell’s words weren’t so much a question as a means of telling him she’d seen the changes, and put the earlier and smaller hints together that she hadn’t thought to put as much stock in. Her stance took on an even more guarded pose, not knowing Milo well enough to feel confident in making a judgment on whether he was a vampire more along the lines of someone like Harsh, or someone more murderous or bloodthirsty. Either way she certainly wasn’t going to be inviting him into her greenhouse now. The witch’s arms folded across her chest, cocking her hip to the side as she gave the young man a thorough up and down, sizing him up in that same way she used to measure threats in the Ring. “So that’s why you were being so squirrely?” Did Milo being a vampire mean he was more likely to know of Kyle’s werewolf status?

“No shit. What gave it away?” Milo bit out, brushing himself down as he retracted his fangs, making a point of continuing to glare at Nell. He watched her as she shifted to take a more guarded stance, one that made it clear she was now actively scrutinizing him. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, but he felt himself shrink a little under her gaze regardless. It was impossible to know what she was capable of, it was impossible to know what anybody in White Crest was capable of. Though he wasn’t exactly holding a torch for self preservation, if she decided to attack, his only real option would be to run. So he opted to stay where he was for now, awkwardly rubbing at his wrist where it had come into contact with the garlic. All he could do was stay silent, and hope she wasn’t trying to figure out where best to plunge a wooden stake. His skin was no longer stinging but the ghost of the feeling was there, he tried not to let it distract him. “I wasn’t being squirrely. Fuck you. You’re the one asking weirdly specific questions about somebody who isn’t even here!” He pointed out, indignant in the face of the accusation. “I know why, by the way. You’re not being subtle.” 

Nell didn’t hesitate to return Milo’s glare, still not even entirely certain how they’d gotten to this point in the first place. Maybe she’d pushed too hard, but that wasn’t anything new for her. It was another one of the many reasons people in highschool had avoided the witch. There weren’t many people who took kindly to her abrasive personality, and it had been even more extreme back in those days. “Well most vampires walk like they have a stick up their ass so that was probably it.” Sorry Harsh. She made the mental apology to her friend, not actually believing the words, but wanting some childish way to retort Milo’s snark. Nell didn’t actually have anything against vampires so long as they weren’t witch hunters like Miriam, or lacked control in a way that made them a constant and active threat to others. “You were being squirrely. Basically dancing around my questions and shit, and getting all uppity.” Her eyes rolled again. “I gave up trying to be subtle about fifteen minutes ago, I’m not stupid enough to come on that strongly without being aware of it.” She’d learned that well enough through her time as a monster catcher and bounty hunter. “So you know Kyle’s a werewolf, then.” At least they’d gotten it out in the open. “Did you know when he was changed?” Now she could ask her questions point-blank.

Milo let out a huff of breath. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever thought maybe that’s just the vampires having to deal with you?” He countered. He wasn’t sure how they had managed to go from a genuine conversation to what could almost be considered an argument. But he wasn’t about to back down, it wasn’t in his nature. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure she wanted him to. “Because you were trying to get me to out a friend!” He explained, wondering whether she might be able to understand his reasoning, maybe even appreciate it. She had made it relatively clear she knew what Kyle was, but she could have been using him to get confirmation, to go behind his back. He would never forgive himself if he gave information to the wrong person, especially information that wasn’t his to give. “Without knowing what you know, did you honestly expect me to just come out and just say it? We aren’t friends, Nell. We said like two words together throughout the whole of high school.” 

Narrowing his eyes when she brushed off his comment, insisting she hadn’t been aiming for subtlety, he waited, wondering whether she was going to say the words out loud. Say what they both knew, what he was continuing to carefully dance around. And then she did, and it was as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Yes.” He said finally. “Did he tell you that?” It still felt strange, talking about it with a stranger. The least he could do was find out whether Kyle had confided in her, or if she had somehow pried the information out of him. If he had willingly been honest with her then he would begrudgingly accept the fact that she could be trusted. “Why?” He asked, some of his anger beginning to fade away. He was curious now, more so than anything else. “Do you mean did he tell me when it first happened? Or just… do I know when it happened in like, the timeline of our lives?” 

“No it’s definitely a you problem,” Nell quipped back, unwilling to take any responsibility. “And I wasn’t trying to get you to out a friend. I was seeing if you already knew. It should have been obvious that I knew by the way I was asking- so you wouldn’t have been ‘outing’. Unless you’re too clueless to connect the dots between me talking about the moon and Kyle. You literally just said I wasn’t being subtle, though.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of them not being friends. As if she cared about something like that when it came to the random guy from highschool. 

“Yeah, we talked about it.” That’s all Milo needed to know when it came to what she and Kyle had spoken of, the deeper conversation they’d gotten into with sleep still tugging at their eyes and the sun barely glinting over the horizon on Kyle’s patio. Her stubbornness made her balk at Milo’s request for why she wanted to know, but she doubted he’d answer her questions if she wholly refused to reply to his. “I’m trying to help him,” she supplied vaguely. “And I mean the second one- do you know when it happened in his life and stuff.”

Milo narrowed his eyes, but stayed quiet, allowing Nell to answer him despite her attitude making him want to interrupt. It would be so easy to cut her off, to argue, but he held his tongue. Resisting the urge so that he could hear what she had to say to him. It didn’t take long for his patience to falter, though. For his frustration to grow exponentially. Could she really be so oblivious? “You weren’t being subtle.” He bit out. “But for all I knew you only suspected Kyle. Isn’t that the oldest fucking trick in the book? Pretending someone confided in you so that you can get information on them from the people they actually trust?” Letting out a huff of breath when his company rolled her eyes, it was everything he could do not to turn around and leave. He only had two reasons to stay. He wanted to know more about Kyle, more about Nell, about the friendship they apparently shared. And he was also incredibly confident his continued presence would annoy her. If he left now he would only be giving her what she wanted, and he was petty. Undeniably so. 

“That’s all you’re giving me?” He asked. “You talked about it?” Coming to realise she was never going to give him the information he wanted solely because she knew he wanted it, he decided to focus on what she was telling him. Or more accurately what she was asking him. “Do you think he needs help?” He hadn’t considered the fact that maybe his friend wasn’t coping. His version of support usually consisted of sharing a drink, and talking until the sun began to rise. What if Kyle needed more than that? Mechanisms that were actually considered healthy by society. He wasn’t any good with those. “Yeah, I know when it happened. I mean, obviously I didn’t at the time. I knew something was up, but it was only after seeing him again that he told me why he started acting so shady way back...” 

“Oh my god, I know I wasn’t being subtle. I literally just said that was the point- that was I was doing it on purpose.” It was becoming rather apparent that something just wasn’t aligning all that properly between Nell and Milo, and the witch was starting to wonder if perhaps they were two people who simply tended to get along like water and oil. Or maybe it was just the conversation they’d chosen. Either way, she was annoyed. She mirrored Milo’s huff, while her eyes gave yet another roll. Nell had lost count of how many times she’d done it since their conversation had begun. “You’re the one who came up to me, remember? If I was actively trying to find out if Kyle was a werewolf, I would have orchestrated some way for us to meet. Not some stupid chance thing.” She’d done it countless times while she looked for bounties. 

“I’m not telling you what we talked about,” Nell replied haughtily. It wasn’t any of Milo’s business, and it wasn’t as if she was going to tell a guy who’d only annoyed the shit out her thus far about the traumas she and Kyle had shared. “It’d be shitty when it was just for Kyle and me.” As for Kyle needing help...that was a question Nell was more willing to answer. Even though Milo was unbearable, he was Kyle’s friend. Someone that might care to help. And Kyle needed all the help he could get. But she didn’t want to outrightly expose Kyle, and she remembered how he’d wanted to set the boundary of requesting help from others. But still...she worried. “It’s...not easy adjusting to being a werewolf on your own.” That was the most specific she could get without outrightly saying he suffered with control. “He hasn’t had anyone to teach him.” She was disappointed that Milo hadn’t known at the time, but intrigued by the mention of Kyle having acted differently. “He started acting shady, how?”

Milo set his jaw. He was over Nell’s attitude, much like he suspected she was over his own. And his desire to hear what she had left to say was infuriating. Why couldn’t he just turn and leave? It should be easy to abandon their ridiculous conversation. “Yeah, I was trying to be nice. That might be a foriegn concept to you.” He snapped. It wasn’t fair that he was being blamed for how their interaction had played out. He had approached her with good intentions, it was utterly undeniable. “How am I supposed to know what he’s told you and what he hasn’t? Jeez.” He ran a hand through his hair, doing his best to expel his agitated energy. “I don’t need to know what you talked about. I think I just need to get out of here.” The longer they spoke, the more apparent it was becoming that they weren’t going to find a common ground. Maybe in another situation, under a different circumstance. But certainly not here, and certainly not right now. 

He actually turned to leave, finally finding the motivation, before Nell hesitated. He noticed it, noticed the way she faltered at his question, and it made him wonder just how much he had yet to learn about Kyle. “No shit.” He muttered, stopping in his tracks. “It isn’t easy adjusting to being a vampire either.” His heart ached at the thought of Kyle, so young and scared. But there was nothing he could do to change the past. All he could do now was focus on the future, on being there for Kyle in any way he was able. “I know how that feels.” Pushing his glasses further up his nose, his expression momentarily softening, he caught Nell’s eye. Sharing in her concern, in her obvious affection for the werewolf. “It doesn’t matter.” He brushed off her request for him to elaborate, knowing the information wasn’t important. It wouldn’t help anybody now. “Just- I don’t know, be there for him, I guess. And I’ll do the same. We don’t have to like each other.” 

Nell didn’t bother even considering that he’d claimed to be making an attempt at being nice, past the point of caring either way. And if he wanted to leave she certainly wouldn’t stop him. But then again...she hasn’t quite gotten to ask everything she’d wanted to. And though she was more than willing to try and bully the answers from him, she tried to think of Kyle— how upset he might be if he heard that she’d done her best to force answers from his friend. So she bit her tongue— quite literally digging her teeth into it in an attempt to exercise the very limited restraint she held. “Then go,” she replied, trying her best not to reignite the animosity in their conversation. 

But then Milo had to go and insinuate that...perhaps he related a little more to Kyle than not. A reluctant prickle of sympathy flickered in her gut, and she did her best to squash it down for the time being. She was already barely treading water when it came to helping Kyle, and she shouldn’t add a vampire who had proven annoying as hell to her plate. Still...maybe she’d message him later, and try and figure out just how much Milo was like Kyle. But being there for Kyle was something she could do. And despite her argument with Milo— she was glad to hear it was something he was planning on as well. “Great. Then we’ll...watch out for Kyle.” Her stubbornness and petty nature made it hard to agree with the vampire who’d been a frustration. Still...in the end Kyle was more important. With a still angry shake of her head, she watched Milo as he left the property, and waited until he was out of sight to turn back to her greenhouse. She’d bother Milo later.

[bluesfortheredj]

Would I lie to you?

Smut ahead.

There’s a short, sharp tapping at your front door and your eyes flick up to the clock on the wall to see that it was still an hour until Taron was due to pick you up, so you take your hands out of the washing up bowl and dry them on the nearest towel before throwing it over your shoulder and making your way to the door.

“Oh!” you smile, surprised at seeing Taron so early, “uh… I’m not ready yet!”

“No, no, that’s fine, I just… I really need to speak to you before tonight. Can I come in?”

“Of course, of course,” you nod, stepping to the side and allowing him to pass by before you shut the door, “come into the kitchen, I’m just finishing the washing up… you can dry.”

He grins at your comment and you hand him the tea towel before your hands dive back into the water and you raise your eyebrows at him as a signal for him to say what he needs to say.

“So you know it was a few weeks ago that we arranged this dinner?” he begins as he tentatively picks up a plate to dry it.

You hum in agreement as a fork slips from your fingers and you sigh as you fish around in the water to find it again.

“Well I may have said something a little silly to my sisters and they may have told everyone in the entire family and their pets about it.”

“Oh Taron,” you chuckle, “what have you said?”

“I didn’t mean to… I didn’t even really say it… I just agreed with what they said because you know how kids are, they go on and on about something and will not let it go until you agree with them-”

“Spit it out already!”

“They kept hounding me with the question ‘is she your girlfriend?’ and I… well, I said yes. In my defence they wouldn’t have shut up if I hadn’t said it.”

You turn your head slowly to look at him with wide, questioning eyes and your brow furrows a little as you realise what this means for later.

“So to save yourself from being harassed by your little sisters, you’ve let them believe I’m your girlfriend?” you clarify.

“Uh… yeah...” he blushes, hurriedly picking up a bowl to fuss over as he avoids eye contact with you.

“Well jeez Taron, you’ve had weeks to tell me and here you are an hour before we go for the barbecue at your mum’s house letting me know that we’ve got to pretend we’re in a relationship?!” you laugh, out of disbelief more than anything else, “bloody hell.”

A silence falls over you both as you take in his confession but it’s not awkward, simply thoughtful instead as you figure out how this is going to work. You’d always been close ever since you met but neither of you had crossed the line into romance even though at various points along your friendship there had been feelings shared by the two of you, although sadly unspoken. It wasn’t a daunting prospect to pretend to be his girlfriend, in fact it was rather an inviting opportunity in all honesty, and you certainly weren’t going to argue about it. You can feel Taron’s eyes on you as you place the last plate in the drainer for him to take, then you empty the bowl and finally turn to face him.

“Right,” you sigh, “guess I’d better get changed then.”

You return to find him sitting on the sofa with the telly on so you move to block his view with a smile as his eyes travel up from your stomach to your face, taking in your ruffled white dress with black spots as he goes.

“That’s...” he swallows heavily, “that’s a nice dress.”

“Thought I’d make an effort being as I’m your girlfriend now,” you shrug, “you ready then?”

“Yep, yeah,” he nods, switching the telly off and rising from his seat.

It was just a few hours in their garden where you had to pretend you were in a relationship with your closest friend; it would be unbelievably easy. His family knew you anyway so there were zero introductions to be made and it would practically be like any other time you saw them, except for maybe being a little bit more tactile with one another.

“Ready?” he asks before he reaches out for the back gate.

“Of course.”

He opens the door and quickly grabs your hand before stepping into the garden as the familiar faces of his family turn to smile at you both, and his sisters run up to him with mischievous grins on their faces.

“We knew you were his girlfriend,” the eldest smirks, “you always come to our house with him!”

“Nothing can get past you two clever little munchkins can it, eh?” you laugh.

“Nope!” they both chime together.

“Okay girls, come on, leave the lovebirds alone!” his mum calls out.

Taron turns to you with an apologetic look upon his face, “we can turn around right now and leave if you want,” he whispers.

“And why would I want to do that?” you ask with a smile as you place your free hand on his cheek and sweep your thumb underneath his eye before sliding down to his neck.

“I have a sudden urge to kiss you,” he states as his eyes flick from your gaze to your lips and back again.

“Well we do need to make this believable...”

He moves quickly, pressing his lips to yours with a deep yearning yet keeping the kiss soft, and you’re taken aback by how much feeling goes into this supposedly fake action, but you embrace it nonetheless.

“I think a line has just been crossed, and I don’t want to move back over it again,” he admits, his lips hovering in front of you as his nose nudges against yours lightly.

“Are you going to join us or stay wrapped up in one another by the gate?” his mum chuckles, “food’s getting cold!”

You turn to face her with a smile and tug on Taron’s hand as you walk up the path to patio where everyone sits with a plate of food already. Taron’s hesitant now, you hadn’t replied to his bold comment and he was worried that you didn’t feel the same, and as soon as your hand slips from his as you reach a chair his heart sinks a little in his chest.

“So come on, how long have you been keeping this from us then? We knew there was something going on, we just couldn’t quite put our finger on what,” his mum smirks, looking between the two of you.

“Uh...” Taron starts.

“Six months, give or take a week or two,” you answer confidently.

“Really? No longer?!”

“We took our time actually admitting that there was something more than friendship between us,” you laugh, “neither of us wanted to cross that line, just in case it went wrong, but we’re mighty glad we did.”

Taron looks up at you with a smile at your words and he knows in that moment that you were both on the same page. Just as quickly as you’d arrived, the evening suddenly begins to draw in, and the girls are soon off to bed as you help clear up some of the plates and glasses on the table. You pick up a beer bottle by the neck but it somehow slips from your fingers and lands with a crash on the patio as you gasp at what had just happened.

“Shit!” you exclaim, bending down to pick up the shards, “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay! Be careful on the-”

“Oh no… Oh no...” you grimace as blood begins to seep down your hand.

“Taron!” his mum calls out, “(Y/N)’s cut her hand, can you get a towel please?”

He comes running out within seconds, knowing full well that you didn’t deal well with blood at all and he helps you stand from your crouched position to take you inside with your hand covered.

“I’m going to take her up to my old room so that we’re near the bathroom… she’s not a massive fan of blood,” he explains.

His mum nods and you sort of zone out as he helps you up the stairs then sits you down on his bed as he keeps a tight hold of your hand with the towel wrapped around it to stem the bleeding.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” he asks as his free hand strokes your cheek and pushes the hair back from your face.

“Yeah, I’m… okay.”

“Right,” he nods, peeking at the wound which had now calmed down, “I’m just going to get something to stick over this, but don’t look at it okay?”

“Got it.”

He doesn’t waste any time in getting the first aid kit out and grabbing a handful of plasters to see which one would fit the best, then he’s at your side once again, slowly peeling away the towel and wiping it over with an antiseptic wipe before sizing up each covering until he finds the perfect one.

“There, all done,” he sighs as he sticks the corners down on your hand.

“What would I do without you?” you smile.

“You’d cope.”

“I don’t think I would.”

His fingers linger on your hand then you both lean forwards until your foreheads meet in the middle softly, and he very gently moves closer to you on the bed before tilting his head so that he can kiss you. Your bodies gravitate towards one another as the kiss becomes more intense and soon the first aid kit is crashing to the floor and spilling its contents across the carpet, and your lips break apart as the two of you chuckle at the noise.

“Let’s hope no one comes up here wondering what that noise was,” Taron whispers as he slides his nose against yours, “they may find us in a compromising position.”

His hands gather your dress up at the sides of your thighs then when he reaches the hem you lift yourself off of the bed just enough so that he can pull it up over your body and discard it on the floor. Your dress ends up being hidden by his clothes then both yours and his underwear, and the bed lets out a loud succession of creaks as you lay down with him hovering over you.

“I forgot how much noise this thing makes,” he laughs, and you giggle as he shifts his weight and it creaks a couple more times, “fucking hell!”

You cover your mouth with your hand as you continue to laugh, “floor?” you suggest.

“I’m not making love to you for the first time on the floor!”

“Well it’s either that or...” you bounce a little, a creak sounding out each time you move.

“Creaks it is,” he winks as he leans down and kisses your neck slowly.

Short bursts of laughter break through the otherwise electrified air around you both thanks to the comedic timing of the bed and its loud noises that almost, but not quite, ruin the loving moment. Your bodies fall quickly into a natural rhythm together, the intrusive sound of your chosen place to have sex now fading into the background as pleasure overcomes you both, the fact that you need to stay quiet yourselves very nearly slipping your minds with every moan that escapes the two of you. The bed alone is enough to give you away, you certainly didn’t need to give those downstairs any more proof of what you were up to in his room; yet there was the hope that they were still out in the garden.

“Taron,” you whisper eventually, dangerously close to the edge.

He nods at you and you take one hand away from his body and curl two fingers up before bringing them up to your mouth and biting down on them as a stuttered, breathy moan slips between the gaps. Taron soon buries his face in the pillow your head is resting on and you hear his muffled repeats of your name until his warm breath is heating the skin of your neck as he turn his head to face you. He settles down next to you, the bed relentless with its creaking as he does so, and the two of you laugh as you tangle your bodies together as carefully as possible.

“So much for pretending, huh?” he grins.

can I request something with Taron? Maybe something fluffy and smutty?

@crazedcatcuddler @aynsleywalker @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @godohammers @celine-wanderwall @lv7867 @nellietara @crazy-souless-demon @queenslandlover-93 @kurtis-conner

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter IX

“So…” Eve began, staring at the various stands and stalls and tables with all sorts of different agendas, occasionally shifting her gaze to the people who would weave between it all.

In every sense of the word, today was, for lack of a better word, eventful.

This was most likely why, when they were gathered in the gymnasium for club sign-ups, the pair simply stood amidst the somewhat organized chaos, clueless.

“What now?” Eve pulled out the club sign-up form from her skirt pocket, thankful she hadn’t lost it in all the ruckus. “My offer still stands, I really don’t mind letting you pick the club we join.”

“I mean. I already told you earlier that I don’t really care what club we go to either way.” Lilith shrugged. She wasn’t trying to sound apathetic, but she couldn’t really remember the last time she enjoyed club time solely for it’s activities and not the friends she would do them with. “You pick.”

“Alright, we’re not gonna get anywhere with this, so how about a compromise?”

“I’m listening,” Lilith chuckled. Of course Eve would be the type to suggest something like that.

The girl in question blushed at the sound, but fought to gather her thoughts and continue.

“You can tell me the clubs you don’t like and I’ll do the same. After we narrow down the list, we can settle on a club that we both like, or at least a club that on of us can tolerate.”

“Okay, but let me tell you now, there are a lot of clubs I don’t like.”

It was Eve’s turn to laugh, her hand automatically coming to cover her mouth as she grinned and giggled.

“Tell me anyway.”

“No music club,” Lilith said, right off the bat. “I’m a mediocre singer and I don’t want to spend two or three hours a week singing hymns.”

“Reasonable enough.” Eve recalled being given a small flier when they entered, the colourful paper listing all available clubs and emptied her pockets once more in search of it before crossing out the words “music club” with a pen she had found while looking for the paper. “Anything else?”

“No home economics. You know why.”

Eve just nodded an drew a line across it.

She was doing this to make up for what she did, not draw attention to it.

“And lastly,” Lilith said, voice tinted with humor as she tried to lighten the mood, somewhat guilty when she saw Eve’s face fall when she mentioned home economics, “no math club. ‘Cause I’m not a nerd.”

The girl succeeded, getting a tiny, genuine laugh from Eve that made her heart flutter like a hummingbird’s wing whenever it graced her ears.

“It’s fine, I’m bad at math too.”

Lilith visibly perked up at the words, the teasing grin Eve had so missed making a comeback at long last, “I never said I was bad at math. I’m pretty good at it, actually. I just don’t like doing it more than I have to.”

“Really?” Eve joked, displaying a mock-disbelief. Lilith was no idiot, though judging by her work ethic when it came to CLE, Eve couldn’t help but make a few assumptions. “What score did you get on the practice test a few days ago then?”

“Ninety-four percent.”

At that Eve’s eyes grew wide as saucers. That was better than she had gotten, and, more surprisingly, it was better than what Mary had gotten, ninety percent, an A minus that paled in comparison to Lilith’s A.

“Oh. That’s neat.” What could she say in response to that?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to struggle to say more, as Lilith returned the question to her.

“What did you get on the test.” Lilith wasn’t the type to gloat, at least not to a person she liked, but the thought of Eve thinking her a fool or a failure wasn’t the kind of image she wanted to project either.

“Eighty-seven…” She stared at the floor in shame, suddenly enamored in the scuff marks a muddy sneaker had left on the floor, shame flooding her face in the form of blood, her cheeks taking on a soft pink for different reasons now. Who could have left this here? A student who had forgotten to clean the soles of her shoes? A janitor, maybe?

Lilith couldn’t help but melt at the sight, immediately speaking to comfort the girl.

“Hey, come on. There’s no need to be embarrassed, that’s a pretty good grade, especially coming from someone who says they’re bad at math!” She clasped Eve’s shoulder and gave a gentle, encouraging squeeze, trying to get her to look up from the floor. “That’s like, what, a solid B? A B plus even?”

When that didn’t work, she slid her hand down to Eve’s and ran the pad of her thumb over the soft skin before giving another, more tender squeeze. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to embarrass you when I asked that. If you want, I can help you review for the next test?” She put on a smile and tried to sound optimistic, mind running a mile a minute as she tried to figure out what to say next.

“There’s always room for improvement!” Lilith said, stealing one of Paula’s lines in the rare occasion that Joan flubbed a test or lost a game. She’d have to thank her for that later.

Meanwhile, Eve hoped that Lilith wouldn’t be able to feel her pulse through her wrist, the pink hue her face took on having faded, only to return with a vengeance when Lilith opted to hold her hand, the way the girl soothed her thumb over her knuckles nearly sending her into cardiac arrest, the momentary squeeze stealing the air from her lungs and running for the hills, if only for an instant before she mustered up enough breath to speak.

“You’d really do that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Are you kidding me?” Lilith grinned, incredulous. “Of course I’d help! With a score like that, there isn’t even all that much to do.”

The way Eve looked at her when she said those words, amber eyes adoring and brimming with marvel as it were, Lilith couldn’t bring herself to look away, it was like she was lost and slowly, willingly sinking into the entrancing, honeyed hue that was Eve’s eyes.

She could hardly handle being the subject of the girl’s gratitude-filled gaze, her heart clenching tenderly when Eve smiled at her, because of her, soft and sweet, dimples appearing on her rosy cheeks, unaware of the near-painful longing that welled up in Lilith’s chest.

In the split second silence, Lilith wondered whether it was for better or worse that Eve didn’t know how her heart ached whenever she made her smile, knowing that Eve, kind person she was, would never want to hurt her, even in the most gentle way, the soft tightening of her chest Lilith herself would sometimes even long for.

“Anyway,” Eve said, breaking the quiet that had settled over them, “I really can’t join the art club, so that’s out of the question. My drawing skills are literally non-existent.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! The best I can do are stick figures, bee doodles, and really loopy flowers.”

They scratched that off the list and began roaming around, Eve unsure of what clubs were a hard no for her but wanting to narrow down the list further.

“Oh, definitely no debate club.” She said out the moment she saw their stand, stopwatch, hardwood podium and all.

“Okay, but why?” Lilith took the list from her and crossed it out, skimming over it in search of clubs the both of them could enjoy.

“They’re sca-“

“Lilith!”

A girl with shoulder-length black hair swishing slightly with every step came up from behind them and hugged Lilith with a fierce grip, nearly making the both of them fall to the ground in the process, her long-suffering partner, local gossip girl, Margaret, merely trailing a few paces behind her, not wanting to be associated with the girl who managed to make at least eleven heads turn towards them.

“Joan told me everything this morning. Where is she?” The girl let go, swinging her head around frantically and craning her neck in an exaggerated search. “I’m gonna beat this chick’s ass if it’s the last thing I do!”

Finally, Margaret came closer and tried to put a stop to whatever was unfolding. “Swearing is against the rules, Julia. I can report you for that.”

The girl, Julia, apparently, turned to look at her partner, joyful demeanor fading in an instant.

“So is make-up and cheating, but you don’t see me yapping about it, do you?”

That shut Margaret up effectively, cheeks probably red with indignance under her foundation.

“Anyway, where is the bitch? I’ll-“

“Okay, before you finish that sentence, I think you should know that the girl you’re calling a bitch is right beside me. Right now.” Lilith said, grabbing her by the shoulders and making her face Eve.

Julia looked at her.

She looked at Julia.

“Hi.”

“Oh shit. Hey…” They stared at each other, a split second of tension filled silence passing between them. “I’m not taking back what I said though, you’re a bitch. I mean seriously, I get not being gay but did you have to- OW!”

Lilith’s elbow met Julia’s rib, harshly.

“When did Joan say all this?” She sighed. The last thing she needed right now was someone making Eve feel worse after everything that happened today, especially now that they were just starting to patch things up and talk free of any awkwardness.

“I already told you, she said all that this morning. We sat next to each other in CLE and passed notes while Sister Jane wasn’t looking.”

“Julia, you’re fucking nuts and I love you for that,” Lilith sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “but now is really not the time. Go ask Joan or Paula to catch you up on things, they should be around here somewhere. We’re busy looking for a club. Until they tell you what happened earlier, you can not call Eve anything except Eve.”

“Oh wow, okay. I must have missed something big if you’re defending the girl who made you sob so hard, you almost-”

“The details aren’t important! Besides, you weren’t there, so you don’t know what happened.”

Julia raised a brow at the girl, shutting up to help her save face, but going in for one last tease before she went looking for Paula to see the whole picture, “I literally just said that Joan told me everything, but okay.” She put her hands up in a sort of surrender. “Say what you want, babe! I’ll get the truth out of you the next time we get wasted anyways, so yeah!” And with that she turned to leave before, rather impulsively, Eve called out to her.

“What club did you join?”

“You’re really gonna look at me and not immediately assume I’m in the softball club? You offend me, Eve. I mean really! You know what they say about softball. It’s the sport of my people!”

The blonde merely stood in silence, absolutely dumbfounded, mouth opening and closing like a fish yet not a syllable leaving her lips.

Julia cackled, tossing her head back and ruffling her soft curls. “Oh God, she doesn’t know?” She asked Lilith, her eyebrows raised so far up that no one watching would be surprised if they receded even further back to join the hair on her head. “You really know how to pick ‘em, sweetheart!”

She walked away, giggling and giving them – well, more Lilith than Eve – finger guns all the while.

“Okay, I’m just going to ask. What was that whole thing about softball about?”

At this, Lilith herself couldn’t help but laugh. “Basically, it’s kinda a stereotype that, and this isn’t a thing we made up, lesbians play softball.”

Eve’s look of confusion turned to bafflement turned to a somewhat exasperated and incredulous amusement. “That makes no sense, but I’m going with it anyway. How did that even start?”

“I actually don’t know, but we went along with it too, cause why the fuck not? You know?” Lilith shrugged and they continued walking again. “There’s probably a bit of truth in there somewhere. It’s how Joan and Paula got together, so there’s that! And Julia has an ex that used to be a member.”

Eve took the list back from her while she was distracted, eyes quickly scanning over it to see if Lilith had crossed anything out while it was in her possession. “I’m assuming there’s a story behind that?”

“Yup!” She snatched the flier away from Eve once more, holding it high above her head when the girl tried to get it again. “But not one you get to hear. Not yet.”

She huffed at that. Eve, despite already standing on her toes, the four inch height difference between them made it so she couldn’t get the list back from Lilith.

“Okay then. But one last question.”

“Yeah?”

“Sweetheart? Babe?” Eve asked, a twinge of jealousy in her. Granted, she had no right to be, at least in her own mind she didn’t. She wasn’t even supposed to be feeling anything for Lilith other than disdain, but what could she do? Her only consolation was the fact she’d yet to act on said emotions.

Technically.

Eve tried to justify what she could, mind jumping from hoop to hoop, connecting loose strings, drawing lines between dots that were barely there. Earlier wasn’t anything akin to love. It was just a friend taking care of a friend.

Yes.

“Oh, that? Yeah, Julia calls everyone that, really. It’s nothing personal.” Lilith felt delusional. Were her feeling for Eve so strong as to warp her mind and affect her hearing, going so far as to imagine Eve’s voice with a pang of envy. “If you get on her good side, she’ll probably call you something too. Not what she called you earlier, though.”

A wave of relief washed over the blonde… followed immediately by guilt for feeling said relief.

It was nothing another round of mental gymnastics couldn’t fix.

The only reason she was relieved was because Lilith not being in a relationship meant that she wasn’t beyond saving.

Of course.

“I hope so, too.” Eve said. They turned to walk down a different aisle, about forty-five minutes left for them to find and join a club.

The pair strolled between stalls leisurely, narrowing down the list bit by bit, encircling the ones they had taken a particular liking to, chatting about clubs.

“The gardening club seems cool.” Lilith suggested, looking at their small stall decorated with small, origami flowers, the girls who ran it not having the heart to pluck what they had grown just yet. “It’s outside so I get some fresh air and it’s no sport, so you won’t have to strain yourself like you did in gym. Whaddya think of it?”

She looked over at Eve, only to see her frowning, a mix of disappointment and contempt in her eyes.

“I’d love to join, but I’m not allowed. My mom doesn’t like me gardening.” Her frown turned into a pout, eyes growing glassy with frustrated tears that had been building up for nearly a decade now. “She made me stop when I was eight because my hands were getting rough…”

“Use me.”

“What?”

“Use me as an excuse. Tell her I made you join it.”

Her words were temptation, the apple offered to Eve by the serpent.

Lilith held the sign-up slip and the red pen out to her, the folded paper an open invitation to rebellion. She wouldn’t force Eve, however, wanting this decision, this sin, to be hers and hers alone, the girl refusing to even write her own name on the paper.

Eve could feel the fifth commandment ringing in her ears, as the Eve before her knew she was defying god.

“Honour thy father and thy mother.”

And yet, Eve could also feel the dirt between her fingers and under her nails, the weight of a trowel in her hands, the sun beating on her back through the gaps in the leaves of their oak tree, the scent of the earth and the flowers carried by the breeze.

The nagging voice in her ears faded and morphed to the gentle buzzing of the bees and the high-pitched chirping of the birds.

Eve took the form and filled it up.

Eve took the apple and ate of it.

______________________________

Taglist: @anon-nom-nom95 @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @i-wanna-be-a-rock @extrabitterbrain @gaypeaches @phillyinthebathroom @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @pirateofblood

[dearcat1]

Alessandra AU

Fandom: Bleach, Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Relationships: Ichigo Kurosaki & Xanxus.

Summary: Ichigo reborn as Xanxus’ little sister.

.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Honestly, Xanxus is not even surprised when these particular bunch of clowns appear in front of him. He's just happy that it happens during his sister's first day of Mafia School. He doesn't want them anywhere near his baby sister. Not after he saw the amount of damage her soul is still healing from. 

There had been quite a lot of casualties the day Xanxus found out. His elements don't talk about it, Alessandra looks oddly touched if the subject ever comes up. The entirety of the training grounds had to be rebuilt but Xanxus figures they should be happy Xanxus had mellowed enough not to go out hunting. 

"Rukia, I presume," he drawls and looks the outfit over. Summer dress and a cute little smile, she looks like a high schooler and all-around good little girl. The act won't serve her well here, though, this is the Varia and they know better than some Japanese teachers over three decades ago. Alessandra is fond of her, Xanxus hates her with a passion that surprises even him. 

Both of them agree, whatever debt was owed to her has long been paid. 

"Ah, yes, mister Xanxus," she demurs, sweet as sugar. "Is Ichigo here? We'd like to talk to him."

Xanxus hides his fury behind his careless facade. He's a mafia Don, he knows how to play this game, no matter how compromised he is. "Ichigo Kurosaki is dead," he doesn't say because of you but he hopes she heard it regardless. "He doesn't live here."  

She falters at that, for a split second, and then recovers. "My apologies. I meant Alessandra, mister. Could we talk to her?" 

With a hum, Xanxus shrugs, takes a deliberately slow gulp of his whisky and watches her do her best to reign in her temper. "I don't believe you can, no." 

"And why is that?" She asks, tone far tighter and teeth pressed together. 

Maybe he shouldn't be taking as much enjoyment from this as he is but Xanxus doesn't give a shit about her comfort, "for starters, she's not here at the moment." 

"And?" Rukia demands and Xanxus lets her.

Let her think that she's untouchable, let her go on with that for a while yet. Xanxus wants to see the realization in her face, the fear creeping in. He'll draw the line in the sand and he's taken measures to ensure it will be respected. "And even if she was, I wouldn't let an ungrateful traitor like you anywhere near her."

"Traitor?" Rukia grits out and there it is, the temper. If Xanxus didn't hate her so, he'd admire her spine. "We are his friends!"

Yes, Ichigo's friends in just the same way that Timoteo is Xanxus' father. It's easier on the mind to call it kindness than manipulation, after all. "Were you? Then why is it that you only come around when you need something?" 

Rukia's eyes widen and she flinches back, Urahara beside her lowers his head and hides behind his fan. The third soul reaper just grimaces slightly and Xanxus has no idea which one this is but he's going to hate him out of principle. "Or am I wrong?" He goes on, knowing full well that he isn't. "Are you here just to say hi and not because you need a child to fight for you? Incompetent as you seem to be." 

"Soul Society needs…" 

"To lower its ego." Xanxus finishes for her, "if it needed to be created, it means the world survived before it as well. Your disappearance might make things hard for a while but the world will adapt. If an organization has become incompetent enough to need a teenager to save them when they have people who have been alive for centuries on their payroll…" 

He lets the implications settle, lets them see how unwilling he is to cooperate. Let them know he will not bow to their self-importance. 

"We could just ask Ichigo directly," she answers, smug with the knowledge that very few have ever been more important to Ichigo than his family and friends.

Xanxus doesn't let it bother him. This girl, centuries-old or not, is in denial. She can't seem to think of Alessandra in any other way than in terms of Ichigo. And yes, Ichigo and Alessandra are at their core the same but reincarnation has its impacts and as much as Ale remembers her life as Ichigo, it's faded like all old memories are. And Xanxus is her older brother, the one she admires and looks up to. The one she trusts to keep her safe. 

"You do that," he mocks, drinking a little more whisky. "She'll give you the same answer: no. My sister won't break a promise to me for the likes of you." But seeing as he doesn't want any of them near his Ale, he leans forward in mostly fake interest. "Let me show you something, before you go. Try to get out of that fake body of yours." 

Though Xanxus can see the obvious disinterest at the beginning, he can also tell the moment she realizes that she can't. Xanxus smiles, all teeth and bloodlust, "what do you think will happen to you should you die in that? You're, after all, already a spirit." 

Verde's services had been incredibly expensive to acquire but Xanxus wasn't about to get stingy on such important matters. Besides, the new data might just be enough for the crazy scientist to stick around a little longer. 

"You're a good brother," soul reaper number three says with something that tries to hide approval. "I am glad. Send Alessandra my regards, we will be leaving."

"But brother!" 

"Rukia," the man Xanxus now can identify as Byakuya reprimands, "we're going." 

The girl follows with a frown on her face and evident confusion surrounding her. Xanxus doesn't care, if he never sees her again he'll be a happier man for it. He turns to look at the blonde instead. "So?" 

"Her soul," Urahara begins, hesitant. "It can't be fully healed."

It's not, it really isn't and Xanxus is both furious and terrified. It must show in his face somehow because the scientist closes his fan, clutching it against his chest like a lifeline. Ichigo loved this man like a father, Xanxus knows. Alessandra loves him mostly the same, perhaps because there was no father in this life to muddy the waters. She misses him, after nightmares or bad days. Xanxus… he doesn't know how he feels about it. 

"I couldn't save Ichigo," and like this, without the fan hiding his face, it's easy to see the grief and regret. The desperation. "I couldn't. But Alessandra… the machines I made to keep Ichigo stable, they should help her heal." 

This is begging, Xanxus knows. And he wants to deny the man, turn him away and demand he never returns. But he remembers his sister's words "Kisuke didn't know what was happening" and her unwavering belief that even if everybody else abandoned her, Urahara would have fought tooth and nail for Ichigo's life. So he nods, ignoring the tightness of his jaw. "Send the research over, if it checks out, we'll contact you."

He doesn't know what comes over him but in a moment of mercy or maybe out of misplaced fondness, he reaches for the man. Xanxus lays a hand on the blonde's shoulder and hands over a small picture the Varia Commander always carries with him. Alessandra, smug and grinning at the camera. He has more copies anyway.

Kisuke leaves after that, clutching the picture to him like it's the one thing that keeps him going. Maybe it is. Xanxus… about this man, he doesn't know what to think.

[piperemerald]

Olive Branch

@lawlightweek Week Day 7: Renewal 

The orphanage was smaller than Light had expected. Truth be told, he didn’t know what he’d expected. L had given him so little to go on. That was fair. Light would argue that was the only thing about this that was fair.

“We’ll do the tour later,” L informed him as they entered Wammy’s House. “You’re jet lagged, you should sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Light said. 

That was a lie and they both knew it. Light was confused. He was frustrated, and relieved, and scared at the same time. He was not fine.

“It’s better if you rest before you meet anyone,” L went on. “Trust me, you’re going to want to be at the top of your game when you do.”

“If you say so,” Light shrugged. If there was anything he’d gotten used to over the past few days it was going with what L told him. Right now, L’s word was the only thing he had. 

“Our rooms are this way,” L lead him down the empty hall.

The house felt like something Light would have read about in one of those British novels Sayu had briefly been obsessed with. From the vine covered walls, to the stain glass windows, stepping inside felt like he’s stepped into another century. 

It was almost comforting to see all of the computers and lack of decor that L’s room was furnished with. Light’s room was connected to L’s through an adjoining door. It didn’t look like it locked. 

That was fitting for a convict. Light just didn’t understand what kind of prison this was supposed to be.

L hadn’t sent him to jail. Instead, he’d informed Light that he was going to be accompanying him back to England and that from now on he wanted Light to assist in the education of his successors. Light thought L was going to give him to the gallows, instead he’d given him a job.

Nothing here made any sense.

—

“I’m Kira.”

For a moment, Light didn’t know if L could heard him over the pounding for the rain. Then L looked at him and that expression silenced any doubts. Light could count on his hand the amount of times he’d seen this man genuinely shocked. This was one of them. 

“Why?”

Why tell him this? Why confess now? Why when they both knew he was so close to winning—to actually winning after so long?

Light felt a smile break across his lips. It was the same smile he’d worn for every little victory he’d been able to succeed over this mental war. It was Kira’s smile. 

“Thanks,” he said out loud. 

Because even if he was surrendering, even if he was letting go of everything he’d worked so hard for, at least he’d be able to keep this with him. At least he’d know that at the very end, he’d stumped L. 

That felt close enough to winning for him.

—

Light was sitting in what he had to assume functioned as L’s office. In the back of his mind, he’d wondered if L had instructed the staff here to add a second desk for him. It didn’t make sense for there to be two, Light was certain that whatever was going on with him was the first this had ever happened.

In front of him was the computer L had given him.

“You can’t bring any personal belongings with you,” L had said before they left.

“Of course,” Light had replied as if he understood any part of what was going on.

Light had just finished the lesson plan L had tasked him with creating. He had a few days before he was supposed to start teaching, but L had stressed that it was important for him to prepare since the children he’d be working with were high maintenance.

Well, no, that wasn’t right. L had briefly mentioned it. Watatri had been the one to give Light a solemn expression and tell him that this was going to be a very challenging experience. L hadn’t offered much guidance. 

“Are you done?” L’s voice broke through Light’s thoughts.

Light turned his gaze to him.

“You look absent minded,” L explained the questioning. “I assume that means you’re either finished or bored.”

“Actually, I was thinking,” Light started.

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t.” L closed his own computer and focused his attention on Light. 

After everything they’d been through, Light would have liked to think that he could read L. It was difficult task, but there were times when Light was certain that he knew what was going on in the detective’s head. He wouldn’t have gotten as far if he couldn’t understand his opponent. 

Only, since the moment Light had waved the white flag he had no idea what game L was playing. Every time he’s reached for answers, L had brushed him off. It was infuriating, but he didn’t know how to get mad at the man who had made the choice to keep him alive.

“You’re concerned about the amount of trust I’ve placed in you.” L apparently had no trouble reading him.

“This place is important to you,” Light said. “These kids are your heirs—and even if they weren’t, Ryuzaki, they’re kids for fuck sake.”

“And?” L knew what he was thinking. Of course he was going to make Light say it.

“And I’m a murderer.”

“Yes,” L seemed disinterested now. That pissed Light off.

“How do you know this isn’t part of my plan?” He demanded. “How do you know you’re safe right now?”

“Well, the fact that we’re having this conversation goes at the top of the list,” L answered.

“L, I don’t know what’s going on!” 

Light never called him that. He always used the alias. Everyone did.

“While you’re here you’re under twenty-four hour surveillance,” L informed him. “Everyone is, it’s safer that way.”

Light didn’t ask what that meant. That was a conversion for another time—another time that he shouldn’t be alive to get. “Still.”

“If you try to hurt anyone in this building, I will kill you.”

L’s voice held no emotion. His eyes were the same cloudy gray that the sky had been the day Light gave up everything so he wouldn’t have to give up the only thing that mattered. It grounded him. Knowing that L wouldn’t hesitate grounded him.

“Is that what you need to hear?”

Light nodded. 

“Well,” L sighed. “Now that we have that out of the way, let me see your lesson plan.”

—

Light hadn’t realized the building had a cell until now. He sat behind the metal bars, on the other side was L and the rest of the task force. He looked at his father’s face once. The disappointment there should have cut through him, but Light just felt numb right now.

He was just going through the motions he’d already calculated. Honestly, he just wanted this part to be over already. He wanted all of it to be over.

“The thirteen day rule is fake,” Light told the group and the running camera. “I had a shinigami add it so I would have an alibi.”

“Who is the second Kira?” L asked.

“There is no second Kira,” Light told the only lie he’d worked into his story.

He’d made Misa give up her Death Note and all memories of being Kira. Then he broke her heart. She’d stay away from him and anything having to do with Kira now. That was the only way he’d be able to ensure that Rem didn’t kill either him or L. 

“There is another notebook,” Light said. “I made other people use it with my notebook. When their time ran out I gave it to someone else.”

“And the evidence we found in Misa Amane’s apartment?” L asked.

“Was planted,” Light lied. “By me.”

“You framed an innocent girl?” It was surprising that it had taken this long for Matsuda to speak. Light figured he’d be the most angry. He’d trusted him too much—they all had. There were all fools.

“As I said before, I think it would be best if I conducted this interrogating alone.” L only sounded mildly annoyed.

The shocked look had long since faded, but each time L met Light’s eyes (he was the only one of the group who seemed to have the stomach to do so) the question was still there.

Why?

—

Light’s first day of teaching was the most exhausting day of his life. His class consisted of only three students, all of which went by fake names. The youngest seemed to be around twelve, while the older two couldn’t be older than fifteen. The loudest seemed to make it his personal mission not to give Light a break.

That was fine, Light hadn’t expected one. He was slightly surprised when L informed him that he wouldn’t be monitoring the class.

“It disrupts their focus if they know I’m watching,” he had explained.

By the end of Light’s three hour class he was ready to pass out. The older students left the room as soon as they were dismissed—they at least gave him the respect of waiting til then—while the younger lingered in his seat.

“Everything alright?” Light asked Near.

He was the age Sayu had been when he would constantly help her with her homework, though Light doubted any of the skills he’d learned from teaching his younger sister would help with L’s successor.

L had given him a briefing on each of his students. Light knew facts about this boy, but that didn’t mean he knew how to talk to him.

“Mello will get used to you,” Near informed him. “He doesn’t like change.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.”

“He also doesn’t like his position as L’s favorite being compromised,” Near’s voice held no emotion. It reminded Light of L’s. Maybe that was why Light knew there was no point in arguing to this child that his mentor didn’t have favorites. 

“I thought you were L’s favorite,” he said honestly.

“I’m the most likely to succeed,” Near replied. “There’s a difference.”

“I see.”

Light turned to the chalk board behind him and started to erase the equations he’d written on it through the course of the class. Dust littered the air, settling on his black shirt in little white clumps. Light had a theory that the other classrooms had dry-erase boards and L had purposely given his this room to torment him.

“Are you Kira?”

“What?” Light turned back to the boy calmly sitting at the little wooden school desk. 

His expression was relaxed, he looked like he’d just asked Light what his favorite food was. Light hadn’t expected this. Maybe he should have given this was L’s successors he was dealing with, but why would this kid think that L would let a mass murder into his home? Well, that conclusion could only be ridiculous if it wasn’t exactly what was happening. 

For a moment Light considered denying it. He considered calling this kid crazy or riddling this off as an attempt to upset him. But that would be pointless. If Near had the resolve to ask him, he was most likely already certain that he was correct.

“How long have you thought that?” Light asked instead.

“I was suspicious when Roger said L was going to be staying for a while,” Near told him thoughtfully. “The timing is odd.”

“So that made you assume he was bringing a serial killer with him?” Light raise an eyebrow.

“No,” Near shook his head. “Meeting you did that.”

“I seem like a serial killer?”

“You seem like Kira,” Near said. “You’re not denying it.” 

“L said I’m supposed to take you seriously,” Light shrugged. This was his new normal. He might as well get used to it. “Did you finish your assignment?”

“No.” Near glanced at the paper in front of him. Light had noticed him working on it at the end of the class. He hadn’t stopped him, knowing full well that some students could work and listen at the same time. 

“You should be working on it, then.” 

“I’m stuck.”

“Really?” That surprised him. 

“It’s not that appalling.” Near deadpanned, the first emotion he’d displayed so far.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Light crossed the room to sit in the desk next to Near. “What’s confusing you?”

—

“I should be on trial by now.”

It was the fifth day since he’d given up. Light was still in the same cell. He was still waiting to die and L was still asking him questions he already knew the answer to.

“There’s more I don’t know,” L hummed. He was the only one on the other side of the bars. Light hadn’t seen the rest of the task force since that first day. He wondered how his family was, then had to stop himself from thinking about that.

“I confessed,” Light didn’t need to remind him. “You found the second notebook in my room. What else do you need?”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“That’s why you’re keeping me here?” Light was angry now. 

“This could be a plan of yours,” L said. “Until I know why you’ve turned yourself in, it would be unwise to place you under arrest.”

“I’m sure the rest of the task force loves that,” Light spat.

“The rest of the task force trusts my judgment and is none of your concern.” 

If there was one thing they’d all been forced to accept it was that L had been right from the start. Light was sure that stung their pride. No, they weren’t like him. It wasn’t their pride that had to be wounded right now. Light was sure that every member of the task force was disgusted—especially his father.

“It’s because I don’t want to do this anymore,” Light tried.

“And I don’t understand what lead you to that conclusion.”

“Maybe the fact that I don’t want to be a murderer,” Light said through his teeth.

“It’s unlikely that you would feel remorse now,” L mused. “After all of the lives you’ve ended to get here.”

“Fine,” Light closed his eyes. He didn’t want to do this. He thought that he’d at least be able to hold a little bit of his dignity. “You want the truth?”

“That has been my goal from the start, yes.”

“I’ll tell you everything, but I need you to come here.” Light doubted L would comply, even if he was handcuffed and L was as strong as him when he was at top form (given the strain the past few days had put on him Light doubted he’d last a minute in a fight even with his hands free).

He is chest tightened when L stood and walked to the bars. He produced a key from this pocket and undid the lock, sliding them open with ease. Before Light could say anything, L sat down on the cell bed next to him. They were inches away, but it wasn’t like L had ever cared about his personal space before.

“Satisfied?” L called his bluff.

“You’re insane,” Light breathed out.

“And you’re Kira,” L replied. “Will you answer me now?”

Light kissed him.

Read the rest on AO3

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You Ch. 20

Read on Ao3

Adrien had screwed up.

He’d screwed up all of it. He’d never been more sure of anything in his life, but the hardest part had been staying away instead of running back to her with flowers and apologies. He’d put of patrolling two nights in a row for that reason. He was painfully aware of just how much he’d hurt her, but his words had been as much for himself as they’d been for her. He’d needed to hear the truth. They both had.

He’d known it had been a mistake to lean on her, but he was hurting, and she was so kind, and…and it was all an excuse. Fear had driven him to her balcony and fear had driven him away. It was better to put the wall back in place. He couldn’t stand to lose her, too, not after…

And that had always been the case, probably half the reason for his feelings for his Lady. Who he was, what he did, would come between him and any person he had feelings for, except for the one person who could understand it.

Adrien raised a picture he’d been holding in his right hand back over his face. It was one of the riskiest things he owned: a never-before seen by anyone picture of his Lady, a shot no one but Chat Noir would have been able to take from a patrol a few months ago. After all, who else could  get to the top of the Arc d’Triomphe? He’d insisted it was nothing more than a photo of the beautiful sunset, but he’d angled it so that his Lady was in the frame. The reds and purples and golds in the backgrounds were stunning, but what was a sunset compared to her face?

And what was a little heartache compared to Marinette’s safety?

Groaning, Adrien let his hand flop back down to the mattress. How had he ended up here?

“You know, I think you were on the right track,” Plagg said, drifting over Adrien’s face. “You should go apologize to that girl. Take her some cheese - on me.”

“Very generous,” Adrien said, rolling his eyes as he twisted onto his side. “You just want things to be easy. That’s not how love works.”

“Are you saying you’re in love with that girl?” Plagg asked, dive-bombing the sheets. 

“Isn’t that what you keep insisting?” Adrien grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“I still think I had a point,” Plagg said primly. 

“All I did was hurt her,” Adrien admitted, sitting up. “I don’t deserve to drag her into this. It’s safer for her if I don’t come around, and better for me. Marinette deserves someone who can give her their whole heart, and I…Chat Noir wouldn’t make a very good boyfriend anyway. Sooner or later the mask would come between us. It never would have worked.”

“And what if she needs saving?”

Adrien couldn’t help a small smile. “Marinette’s never needed saving.”

Plagg frowned. “Anymore thoughts on Trixx’s little message?”

Adrien groaned, throwing his hands over his eyes. “None. Could he have been anymore cryptic? ‘Look for what’s not there’? I mean, what does he think I’ve been doing this whole time? I feel like I have all the pieces, I just need to put them together.”

“You do,” Plagg said, swirling closer. “You can do it.”

“Can you tell me anything else?” Adrien asked. He’d asked before, but Plagg hadn’t been able to come up with anything new. 

“She’s always been just one step behind you,” Plagg said, frustration bleeding into his voice. “You just never…you never saw her, Adrien.”

“One step behind…”

An alarm chimed on Adrien’s phone, and he instantly recognized the alert reserved for akuma’s. He snatched it up, opening Nadja’s live news feed. Once again, his Lady would have to wait.

Adrien frowned, devouring details. He could easily recognize the Louvré plaza in the background as Nadja huddled behind a tree.

“…ments ago an akuma appeared at the Louvré museum where preparations were being made to restore several historical paintings. The akuma - oh my!”

The camera panned over Nadja’s shoulder to the plaza where Adrien could see the monster had appeared. His heart stuttered at the sight of the truly wicked looking blade the thing was carrying. He was a good fencer, but the broad-sword was definitely designed for crushing; he doubted his slender baton could take the brunt of it. Hopefully Red’s lucky charm would be a little more durable. 

“Time to go,” Adrien said, standing. “Plagg - ”

“Um, Adrien?! It looks like you’re already there.”

Adrien froze, then snatched his phone back up. 

Sure enough, two superheroes had appeared in the plaza. They certainly looked like them, but if the past two months had taught him anything, it was that nothing was as it seemed. 

“Senti-monsters?” Adrien wondered out loud.

Plagg shrugged. “Anything’s possible, I guess. It’s happened before, but to what end?”

“Another mass akumatization?” Adrien suggested. 

“Possible,” Plagg said again, “But risky. It didn’t work the last time, and we have the Miracle Box. We could show up with a team to fight him, but maybe he’s counting on Ladybug’s inexperience to take you down.”

“So the best thing then would be to show up?”

“Maybe try calling Chloe first,” Plagg suggested. “If she picks up, you know this is probably a trap.”

“Good idea,” Adrien said, already dialling. Sure enough, it went straight to voice mail. “Looks like that’s really her out there,” he said. He slid his phone back into his pocket and dropped into his desk chair to pull up the live feed on his computer instead. 

The fight continued had continued on and he saw Ladybug call for her lucky charm. 

“I have a bad feeling,” Adrien said as he watched. A pit had formed in his stomach. “I think we should get out there. Even if that cat’s a fake, two is better than one.”

“Wait, look!”

Adrien looked back at the screen to see another familiar figure join the fray. “Felix?”

“I still don’t like that kid,” Plagg grumbled. 

But as they watched, it became apparent that Felix wasn’t fighting with Ladybug and ‘Chat Noir’ - he was fighting against them. Adrien’s eyes grew wider and wider as he took in the scene.

“And I was right!” Plagg exclaimed, squishing his face against the computer screen and beating it with his tiny paws. “I knew it! You can’t trust him! I’M GOING TO CATACLYSM HIS FACE OFF.”

“For once I think we’re on the same page!” Adrien stood so abruptly his chair toppled over. “Plagg, claws out!”

The transformation took seconds. When it was over, Chat Noir leaned into the computer screen to take one more look at the scene, but what he saw made him freeze.

The ‘Chat Noir’ on screen had fallen, his back to the camera, barely concealed by some rubble. The akuma was no where to be found. As he watched, Felix landed a blow that sent Ladybug flying. She fell hard and she, too, didn’t get up. Felix crossed the plaza and bent to the two heroes. Twin flashes of green and pink light briefly lit the afternoon, and when they faded, Felix was standing, his arm outstretched over the two figures, now in plain clothes - clothes that didn’t look like anything in Adrien’s closet. The dim light of the sun glinted off something in his cousins’ palm. 

The Miraculous. 

“Hawkmoth!” Felix shouted. “The Miraculous are mine now. If you want them, come and get them - tonight at the Eiffel Tower, midnght. If you’re not there, I’ll assume you’re not interested.”

“What the hell,” Chat Noir muttered. Enough. This had gone on long enough. He turned and made for the window, ripping his baton free as he went. As he did, he noticed the paw print softly flashing, indicating missed messages. “Oh, this should be good. ‘Hey Adrien, I hope you didn’t think I would just give you the Miracle Box; I think the Ladybug and Black Cat are a fair trade!’ He’s going to be real surprised when the black cat turns out to be…. to be… well, a fake of some sort.”

Scowling, he played the messages. The first one was from Red.

“Where have you been? Salem and I have been trying to get in touch with you all day. I know you’re still mopey about Ladybug and having to be saved by a civvy or whatever, but we seriously need you to pull it together! Get back to one of us; we can’t keep waiting for you.”

The next two were from Felix:

“I was hoping to intercept you on one of your patrols, but I haven’t been able to find you. I’ve come up with a plan. Actually, I kind of borrowed it. Hawkmoth is getting more volatile. It can’t wait anymore.”

And then:

“I’m sorry, Chat Noir, I waited as long as I could. Hopefully you get these messages before you come to kill me. You can yell at me after we beat Hawkmoth, and then you can have Trixx back. He’s eating me out of house and home. Tonight.  Eiffel Tower. Midnight. Don’t make me come get you.”

Chat Noir turned back to look at the footage on his computer. The Louvré plaza was completely empty. In fact, the rubble had disappeared as well, like smoke on the wind - or a mirage in a desert.

“And illusion,” he muttered, understanding dawning on him. “A fake take down to lure Hawkmoth out of hiding and into a false sense of security. Brilliant. Stupid, but somehow still brilliant. Plagg, claws in.”

Adrien had a piece of cheese ready for the kwami as he reappeared, a peace offering more than anything else. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe you cataclysmed him like we agreed,” Plagg pouted, devouring the cheese. 

“New plan,” Adrien explained. “Felix used Trixx to create the illusion of the fight to lure Hawkmoth out. Tonight’s the night. We’ve only got a few hours to prepare.”

Plagg frowned. “Prepare?”

“Hawkmoth won’t come alone,” Adrien said, flicking the switch that would bring up his piano. “We won’t either. We need the team.”

“But…they’re all compromised,” Plagg said. “Hawkmoth will - ”

“Will what?” Adrien said, opening the piano bench where no one ever cleaned. Inside, near the bottom and covered in sheet music, was the Miracle box. “After tonight, he won’t be a threat. If all goes well, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s risky, Adrien,” Plagg cautioned nervously. 

“It’s never been anything else,” Adrien said. “Besides, I’m the guardian now. We finally have the advantage. I won’t waste it.” He paused, staring at the lid of the box. “I haven’t gotten to make a lot of choices in the past few months, but this is one I can make. And Felix was right about one thing: taking down Hawkmoth is the only way it’ll be safe to find my Lady and set things back to right.”

“Well, we’ve got a lot of stops to make,” Plagg said. 

“Then we better get started. Plagg, claws out!”

Chat Noir picked up the Miracle box, stashing it in a satchel and slinging it around his shoulders. He’d have to be fast, but he paused on his way to the window and picked a single pink rose from the vase on his desk. 

Maybe the real mistake had been asking Marinette to be anything other than who she was. Maybe it had been not trusting himself enough. Maybe it had been allowing fear to cloud his judgement. Maybe it was all of those things.

Whatever the case, he hoped it wasn’t too late to set things to right. 

Maybe if he’d left a little sooner, it wouldn’t have been.

But while Chat Noir leapt into the night, the Miracle Box at his hip and hope in his heart, he had no way of knowing he was racing an akuma.

Or that he was going the wrong way.

[dpimagines]

The Sharpest Lives; Wade Wilson (feat. Vanessa Carlysle, Nathan Summers) part one of [?]

author’s note: This is the soulmate au where you feel your soulmate’s pain. (In my take of this AU, it only starts once someone turns 16 to avoid traumatic complications due to age gaps) You’re a mutant with a few powers: by consuming normally or by absorbing someone’s blood through the epidermis, you can temporarily gain their abilities, and your own blood can heal others to an extent. not only that, but you can control blood, kinda like water-bending. This is an AU of Deadpool 2 that more than implies DP1 also went down differently. 

warnings (for the whole story): PTSD, blood, death, swearing, grief, DEPRESSION(!!), suicidal themes, self-harm, negative self-image, sexual themes; it’s Deadpool, you know the drill fam

There’s a bullet in your spine. It’s agonizing, but you grit your teeth. Wade’s blood will heal you, and you’ve faced worse. You’re his soulmate, after all.  

But then there’s another shot, and this time Wade howls your shared girlfriend’s name. You try to crawl over, so he can give her your blood, so she’ll be fine, but your world continues to get darker and your body feels so, so heavy. 

You wake up in the school infirmary. The place isn’t an unfamiliar sight, but as the events of last night come crashing back in, you’re terrified. 

You’re not a part of this day as much as they’d like you to be, but you don’t mind. You’d encouraged them to celebrate the anniversary of when they first met, and you’re excited to see what presents they get for each other. You and Vanessa coordinated gifts, she’s giving him her IUD and you’re giving him lingerie that’ll fit her rather nicely. You don’t want to be pregnant - and you definitely don’t want to pass on any of your genetics - so it makes the most sense for her to be the one to carry the child or children the three of you want to raise together. 

You’ve got a lovely necklace for her, an antique opal pendant. Opal is her birthstone, and it wasn’t exactly cheap, but… You wanted something perfect, and it spoke to you. You hope she’ll like it, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you try to restrain your excited smile. 

Wade’s late, but you two don’t mind. Sure, you’ll both feign annoyance, but he’s not getting too hurt. There’s always the simmering pain of his skin that has become the background noise of your life and his, but it’s okay. There are worse things. There are always worse things. 

He comes home, makes some excuse about rescuing handi-capable children that makes you snort before Vanessa tackles him with a kiss. 

You stand at the sidelines, and she waves you over. That’s something you appreciate about her, for sure. She always notices you despite your solitary nature. They both do, but you’ve always wondered if Vanessa not feeling yours or Wade’s pain is a fluke. She just seems… Right. She’s soulmate-less, which is rare but not unheard of, especially as the world’s population grows. 

She gives him her IUD, and he gives her an arcade token. They’re confused by each others’ gifts, before eventually figuring them out. You give them the ones you got for them and they both grin, though Vanessa’s smile is accompanied by tears and complaints that this is one of the best gifts she’s ever gotten and she has nothing in return for you. You just tell her wearing it is enough and shyly flirting, telling her that the two of them will be giving you a show soon enough. 

Your back is to the door when it bursts open, and you’re shot in the back before you can turn around. Wade fends off the attackers, but not before Vanessa’s shot as well. She’s so far away, and after that it’s just…

Now. 

The constant searing discomfort you feel in your flesh is still there, but your back doesn’t hurt, which means you’re healed. You wonder where they are; You’re completely alone here. This infirmary being empty is a rare experience, but not one that you cherish as you realize that you being alone is more than physical. 

She’s dead. 

You feel wretched pain - nearly as bad as when Wade was in Weapon X - rip through your body, and you scream in torment.

It’s like you’re being blown apart, that’s the only possible explanation. You’re on fire - actually, Wade’s on fire. Your body hurts like it’s been cut into jagged pieces, pain bursting from every slice. Your feel the need to squirm, to writhe in discomfort, but also the need to freeze, to not move until it goes away. 

But the suffering will never end, now that she’s gone. Hot tears roll down your face and there’s a dull ache in your chest that’s doubly infinite due to the fact that Wade is also grieving. You want to rip your own skin off, to carve your heart out, anything to make it stop. 

Ellie bursts in, worried. You’re a couple years older than her, but the two of you have known each other for around a decade at this point, both of your mutations having manifested early. Her girlfriend - who you’re also friends with - Yukio, accompanies her. 

“What happened, are you okay? Of course you’re not okay, but…” Yukio trails off, and they both look to you expectantly. 

“I- I’m fine, I just…” You pant. “Wade, uh, blew up. Where is he?”

“He dropped you here with some of his blood and said he had some stuff to take care of,” Ellie explains, not realizing she probably should’ve minced those words. At least she didn’t use the a-word. “What happened?”

“We… We were celebrating, the… The anniversary of when he and- Of when he and Vanessa met. And then there were these- These men, and I was shot in the back, and Vanessa was shot, too, I think- I think she’s dead,” you re-hash last night, again, trembling at the memory. 

“Oh my god,” Ellie and Yukio both say - not quite at the same time, but close together. They’re so close together, and you’re all alone. 

“I’ll tell Colossus to go find him,” Ellie assures you, and you nod in acknowledgement. “We should get some food in you.”

The thought makes you gag, but your grit your teeth as tears prick your eyes. 

“Just some soup, something small?” Yukio requests. 

“I’ll- I’ll try,” you compromise, and they leave the room. You’re tempted to kill yourself, but you’re so unmotivated in general that you can’t even bring yourself to rise from the bed - and you don’t want them to be the ones to find you. 

So, you lay there in the purest of agony for quite some time, only accompanied by silence, which is simply more agony. Eventually the explosion pain fades - Wade has likely succumbed to his injuries and temporarily died.

But then, another explosion-like pain rips through you - more specifically, your head - dissipating and leaving you with a strange, tingling pain in your arm and half your torso. It’s livable, like the cancer pain, but… Different. It hurts like the section of your body is falling asleep, but in a less distracting way. Not to mention, your grief is now triple. 

The girls come back with the soup, and you get the feeling you shouldn’t tell them about this new pain. Something’s wrong. 

Tomato. That’s the flavor of the soup.

“S’that family recipe you like,” Ellie notes. 

“That why it took so long?” You tease, singular cheek tugging up to create a bitter, sideways smile. She sighs.  

“Colossus immediately left to find Wade,” Yukio informs you, and you can tell by her expression she said it to brighten things for you. 

But you can’t brighten a broken bulb. 

“Thanks,” you tell them. The pain of Wade’s skin and the explosion fade away, meaning he’s dead… But you’re still left with the tingling sensation, as well as even more grief. Is there… Someone else? 

It’s uncommon but not entirely rare, but this is sudden. You would’ve been feeling their pain regardless of their age, and you doubt any soulmate of yours was just born, especially not intensely grieving.

You really might kill yourself now.

[liibrii]

In honour of today being National Culture Day in my country and exactly a year since I've seen my favourite band perform live, I've decided to take a minute and talk about Dream Theater. And by talk I mean mostly nerd out about my favourite songs and why I love them so much.

in case you haven’t heard of Dream Theater before, they’re an american progressive metal band, who’s been around since 1985. idk what else to say except even if you don’t like metal/rock give a listen to Beneath the surface.

tw: some pretty heavy topics such as death, murder, mental illness, alcoholism,... 

so to start, I love the versatility of their songs and yet they still have that distinct Dream Theater sound. my favourite part of their music are the lyrics. a lot of them are inspired by their own personal experience, which often makes them just the more heart breaking. and for others, I don't know what creator juice these guys are on but I'd like some. they’re the kind of lyrics you want to read while listening to the music just to really get the meaning, and you spend days thinking about them. or maybe that’s just me. :D 

also Petrucci's guitar skills are outta this world, which sadly often overshadows others who are also incredible musicians. I have a soft spot the singer LaBrie cause 1. his voice and singing are magnificent, and 2. he damaged his voice pretty badly but perservered even when critics weren’t very nice to his singing and I respect that.

I'll start with my favourite album (and the one I heard live) - Metropolis Pt. 2: scenes from a Memory. it's a concept album, which if you don't know is an album that has a single central narrative (can be lyrics, musical theme,...). in this case it tells a story of Nicholas, a man who keeps having dreams about a girl named Victoria, and how through hypnotic therapy he discovered he was her in the previous life. Victoria was murdered and her death never solved, so we follow him as he discovers the truth behind her death. I won't spoil it, in case you're curious but don't wanna read the lyrics you can find a synopsis here. I'll just say the story of this album is better than majority of movies.

If you put a gun to my head and made me choose my favourite song on this album it would be the very last one: Finally Free. it's charged with so much emotion, the way LaBrie sings the lyrics; you can tell which part belongs to which character, it's just soooo good! The way each repeats the lines This feeling / Inside me / I finally found my love (life) / I've finally broke free - and I'd go on but I'd get into spoiler territory. so. let's move on with the closing melody (it's not much of a melody, more like static) that becomes the opening of the first song on their next album Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence.

Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence is another concept album. this album. man, how do I even begin to explain it? I can't, you gotta listen to it. have you ever imagined an entire album telling stories of people living with things like alcoholism, post-partum depression, autism, schizophrenia? it may sound intimidating and I won't lie, some songs touch you so deeply it's hard to listen to them (looking at you Goodnight kiss).

and now that my fave albums are outta the way let's talk about my favourite songs in no particular order! (just a note, pretty much everything I’ll say about the lyrics is my personal interpretation)

Beneath the Surface (album: A dramatic turn of Events) - the one that makes me cry like a baby. the one I tefuse to shut up about. the story of two people who are in love, neither aware the other feels the same,  both too scared to make a move till it’s to late and their feelings fade. just, listen to it, please. it’s also the least ‘metal’ of their songs, if that’s not the kind of music you’re fond of.

Spirit carries on (album: Metropolis Pt. 2: Scenes from a memory): I can’t say much about it without spoiling the story of the album, so let’s say it was experience of a lifetime singing this song on the concert, off key and out of tune, with your bestfriends beside you, all of you crying. 10/10 experience.

Through her eyes (album: Metropolis Pt. 2: Scenes from a memory) - same as Spirit carries on :D

Finally free (album: Metropolis Pt. 2: Scenes from a memory) - the emotion!! I want to sing this song at the top of my lungs while it makes tears pour down my face. it’s such a good final song to this absolutely brilliant album.

Pull me Under (album: Images and Words) - when that LaBrie voice hits... if you’ve ever heard this song you know what I mean, and if you are yet too, you’ll know which part I mean. you’ll hear it, trust me. (it’s at 2:54)

Vacant (album: Train of thought): ah look, another song that makes me cry. LaBrie wrote this after his daughter fell into coma for 3 hours when she was 7, and let me tell you, you can feel the fear. easily one of their most heart breaking songs. but she’s okay now, don’t worry. :)

Stream of Consciousness (album: Train of Thought) - an instrumental song with guys just flexing their skills. 

Wither (album: Black Clouds & Silver Linings) - the story behind this song is Petrucci had trouble coming up with new lyrics so this mad-lad pulled a UNO reverse card and wrote a song on having trouble creating. and as a writer who often hits writer’s block I relate to that. 

Count of Tuscany (album: Black Clouds & Silver Linings) - the story of this song could easily be a movie. you meet a young count on your travels and he takes you to his home where his slightly eccentric brother lives, and before you know you’re terrified for your life. I have yet to hear a song that captures the fear of dying as well as this one. 20 minutes of pure bliss and singing at the top of your lungs. 

Out of Reach (album: Distance over Time) - you know that feeling of falling for someone who’s out of reach? yeah, that. 

Fall into the light (album: Distance over Time) - the line Too much love is not enough for us makes me question what is really important in life and I love it when songs make me think. it’s such a simple line and yet so powerful. (spare some of the creator juice?)

Ministry of Lost Souls (album: Systematic Chaos) - you thought we were done with songs that make me cry? ha, think again! this is the song that sold me on Dream Theater. the lyrics have 2 different interpretations, both of which are heart breaking and thus I won’t talk about them. :) 

Prophets of War (album: Systematic Chaos) - I’m not saying it’s about the possible ulterior motives of the Iraq war buuuut... oh no, wait that’s exactly what the song is about. 

Endless sacrifice (album: Train of Thought) - just a song about how relationships take work and compromising, especially when one is a musician and often on tours. Petrucci wrote this song for his wife. get you a man who recognises how much you’ve sacrificed to make the relationship work. 

Build me up, break me down (album: A dramatic turn of events) - I have no other reason for liking this song other than it is an absolute banger.

Panic Attack (album: Octavarium) - this song includes my favourite singing from LaBrie. goosebumps every time. and also the suffocating feeling of pure panic, the paralysis you feel are so well reflected in the music it’s unreal. 

Octavarium (album: Octavarium) - this song has my fave line: It's wonderful to know that I could be / Something more than what I dreamed. and it also takes the award of “Lyrics whose meaning I’ve been trying to figure out for years and still have no clue“. and the orchestral parts of this song... I hope to get a chance to hear it live one day.

I was debating putting some of my favourite lyrics here but I think this post is already long enough. :)

in conclusion, I love Dream Theater and I hope they keep making music!! ♡

[artificialqueens]

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 25 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters. xoxo!

Chapter Summary: Grease finishes its illustrious run, and we end the school year with Prom and a group trip to the movies.

TW: homophobia

Chapter 25: Hopelessly Devoted To You

Despite their opening night drama, the rest of the weekend’s performances of Grease went off without a hitch. The principal agreed to beef up security and they kept would-be protestors far away from the theatre - so after 2 days they got bored and stopped showing up.

And, possibly because of all the controversy, ticket sales soared, and they ended up getting a write-up in the Arts section of a big San Gabriel Valley newspaper.

Alyssa was so jazzed by the extra attention that she began to ham it up even more than she had during rehearsals. One night, during the drive-in scene, she hit Roy so hard one night that he had a bruise the next day.

“Where are the fucking protesters for THAT?!” Roy whined, as he got ready that night.

“I mean, you were trying to date rape her,” Courtney reasoned.

“NO I WASN’T!” Roy screeched. “My character was! Why should I get a bruise for something he does?! This is reverse sexism!”

“Awwww…” Courtney soothed, climbing into his lap. “Poor baby…”

“Reverse sexism,” Darienne chuckled to herself, “Like that’s a thing.”

“It is!” Roy insisted.

Courtney kissed his cheek, teasingly saying, “I know, it’s so hard to be a sensitive male these days.”

“It really is,” he whimpered, resting his head on her chest.

“Oh, BOO HOO!” Alyssa crowed from nearby. “Listen, you just watch out the next time Danny tries to touch my girl without consent. I’ll break your goddamn fingers!”

“Alyssa…” Darienne laughed, shaking her head. “I think you’re going off book, here.”

“I think she’s going off the fucking deep end!” Roy said. “Anyone got a straightjacket?”

Alyssa grinned devilishly at him, making some punching motions in the air.

Roy nuzzled against Courtney’s neck. “You’re still her understudy, right? Can we have her killed?”

-

ADORE: You coming to the diner?

PEARL: Yeah, I just have to finish up here first. Order me some fries?

ADORE: You got it.

Pearl tucked her phone back into her pocket, turning her attention to the backdrops. She had to stay a little longer than the cast after the show was over to help reset all the set pieces for the next night. Most of the cast and crew had left, waiting for their rides or making their way to a nearby diner for post-show bonding.

Pearl unlocked the wheels of the drive-in set, pulling the backdrop behind her as she headed to the wings, accidentally running over her own foot in the process.

“Motherfucker,” Pearl groaned, reaching down to rub her throbbing foot.

“Need some help?” Shea appeared from behind the backdrop, catching Pearl by surprise.

“Shea? Hey! Uh, yeah I could use some help,” Pearl nodded, the pain in her foot completely forgotten.

“We're gonna leave it right here,” Pearl guided, nodding to the other backdrop already tucked away.

“Here?”

“Yep, now just lock the wheel on that side. I'll do this one.” Pearl quickly locked the wheel then glanced up to see Shea bent over, face scrunched in confusion. “It’s… it’s right there.”

Pearl walked over to her and bent down, showing her how to lock the wheel.

“You just… and it’s locked,” she smiled.

“Oh,” Shea nodded, gazing up into her eyes before clearing her throat. “Easier than it looked.”

She straightened up, then followed Pearl back to the stage to grab some of the Burger Palace pieces.

“Mhm,” Pearl nodded, gesturing to the booth that they needed to move. “This one slides pretty easily.”

Shea helped her work, biting her lip every time they locked eyes.  

“The show’s been going well,” Shea said finally, looking at Pearl with earnest brown eyes.

“Yeah, people wanted to see what all the hoopla was about after the first night,” Pearl shrugged, brushing her hands off and looking around to see if anything else needed to be moved before tomorrow.

“Hoopla?” Shea brows furrowed in confusion before letting a laugh escape her.

“Yeah, you know, all the commotion, the hoopla.” Pearl’s hand swirled in the air nonchalantly, but the moment Shea burst in laughter, Pearl found herself giggling along.

“Who actually uses the word ‘hoopla' besides someone's grandpa?” Shea shook her head, following Pearl towards the exit, shoulders brushing together as they walked.

“I don't know, I don't know… I watched Spongebob the other day. Really, I've never used that word until now,” Pearl said, turning towards Shea as they approached the big double doors.

“Wow, Hoopla. I should start using that word. It's fun to say,” Shea giggled.

“It is,” Pearl chuckled, then bit down on her bottom lip, her gaze moving to Shea’s full lips.

Shea noticed, her own laughter fading off.

Pearl’s heart leaped to her throat as the silence between them filled with an energy she'd only encountered a few times before. She put one hand on the heavy door, and Shea did the same, their fingers bumping.

Eyes snapped to each other, gauging the other’s reaction. Pearl’s tongue darted across her lip as she leaned towards Shea, eyes flickering between glossed lips and wide eyes.

“Shea!”

The sound of Sasha’s voice had Shea stumbling back, right into a rack of costumes, a small gasp leaving her lips.

Pearl frowned, reaching to help her, but when her hands were swatted away, she backed up letting Shea have her space.

“Shea, you back here? Shea?” Sasha rounded the curtain, footsteps stuttering when she saw Pearl running her fingers through her thick blonde hair, looking at Shea with nervous eyes, while Shea hurriedly righted the wardrobe rack, re-hanging the pieces that had fallen off the hangers.

-

In a bizarre compromise with her mother, Darienne had been allowed to stay in the show despite the “evil pro-gay message” but not participate in any of the fun stuff, like going to the diner after the performances with the rest of the cast and crew.

Courtney had just been texting her a sympathetic message when she looked up. Bob was in the middle of an animated story, while Roy interjected with corrections and insults, as per usual. But what Courtney noticed wasn’t the boys, but how Adore sat in a booth nearby, staring into space.

She decided to take advantage of this rare moment while Raja was distracted at the jukebox with Raven, and squeezed her bestie on the shoulder to grab her attention.

“Hey...”

“What’s up?” Adore asked, giving her a half-smile, biting down on a fry.

“You were great tonight. I mean, you’re always great, but…” Courtney gave her a bright smile.

Adore swallowed. “Thanks. Um, you too.”

Courtney slid into the booth beside her, wrapping her arms around her waist and looking up at her with loving eyes.

“You’re so beautiful…”

“Alright, who gave you weed?” Adore scoffed. “Willam? Pearl?”

“Nobody! I’m totally sober. You’re just pretty, that’s all.”

“Well...thanks,” Adore bit her lip.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering.

“Uh. Of course. You’re stunning. Gorgeous. A living doll.” Adore glanced around helplessly. Where was Raja? Where was Roy?

Courtney giggled and nuzzled her cheek.

“What’s going on over here?” Raja asked, strolling up.

Before Adore could open her mouth, Courtney piped up, “Not much, I was just molesting your girlfriend.” She smiled coyly, head still on Adore’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” Raja sat down. “Seems reasonable.”

“Courtney, knock it off!” Adore said, shrugging her off.

Raja snickered, saying, “Oh yeah, you looked like you were really suffering there.”

Adore folded her arms crossly.

“Dory, don’t be mad…” Courtney pouted.

“Yeah Dory, don’t be mad.” Raja reached over to steal a French fry, brow arched suggestively.

“Ugh, you both suck!” Adore said, getting up and stomping over to the counter.

Courtney opened her mouth, eyes wide and innocent. “What?!”

Raja laughed, shaking her head. “Just let her sulk. Have some fries.”

-

After closing night, there was a wrap party at Pearl’s house, complete with Karaoke machine, mini strobe lights, and sundae bar. Or as Willam lovingly dubbed it, “the ultimate nerd fest.”

Pearl sat on top of her kitchen counter, nodding her head to the beat of the music, watching the party around her as she sipped from her cup of punch.

“Pearl!” Sasha smiled as she entered the kitchen to get some snacks, pulling the blonde’s attention away from Shangela and Alyssa’s karaoke performance.

“Sup,” she nodded.

“What’re you doing in here by yourself?” Sasha asked, crumbling a handful of potato chips over her chocolate ice cream, then topped the whole thing with caramel sauce.

“Just chilling,” Pearl shrugged, then gestured to Sasha’s sundae. “That’s genius.”

“Salty and sweet,” Sasha nodded and the two girls went silent for a moment as she dug in.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Pearl leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

“Sure.” Sasha nodded.

“Um…I’m usually a pretty good judge of when I like, vibe with a girl. And…and I really like Shea, and sometimes it seems like she likes me back. But then…I don’t know, sometimes I feel like I’m totally barking up the wrong tree. Am I crazy?”

“Well…” Sasha took a small bite of her ice cream, head titled thoughtfully. “We haven’t talked about it. And if we had, I wouldn’t tell you, because, you know, BFF trust.”

“Of course.”

“But, just from what I’ve seen…I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The thing is…” Sasha paused. “She's not like you. I mean, she’s still probably figuring some things out.”

Pearl nodded knowingly; Shea wouldn't be the first confused (or closeted) girl she had a crush on.

“So as long as you get that she’s in a different place, and you’re careful of her feelings…I don’t think you’re barking up the wrong tree. I just think you might need to be extra patient. You know?”

“Yeah.” Pearl nodded, taking another sip of her drink. “Thanks.”

“No problem. And, in case you’re wondering, she’s out by the pool. Last I saw, she was talking to Carmen and Laganja.

“Awesome.” Pearl flashed a smile, hopping off the counter.

-

“Adore, you wanna do ‘Bidi Bidi Bom Bom,’ or ‘No Me Queda Más’?” April asked, flipping through the karaoke book.

“Uhhh…” Adore paused, eyeing Courtney and Roy on the sofa before looking back at April to suggest, “What about ‘Dreaming of You’?��

April scoffed. “Omigod, you’re so basic! That’s her whitest song, you fuckin’ gringa!”

“Well, I don’t really speak Spanish, dude, sorry!” Adore defended herself with a shrug. “You know that.”

“Okay, fine, ‘Dreaming of You.’ But will you at least try ‘No Me Queda Más’?”

“I’ll do my best.”

April nodded, writing down the track numbers and handing them to Bob, who was lording over the rented karaoke machine with an iron fist. “Sir, please?”

While Adore waited for their turn, her attention drifted back to Courtney, curled in Roy’s lap, feeding him her ice cream sundae. They’d been sickeningly sweet all night, and while Adore was trying to ignore their nauseatingly adorable antics, it was proving harder and harder.

“I have no idea why I’m eating this,” Roy murmured, licking a drip off Courtney’s finger. “I don’t even like vanilla.”

“That’s funny, ‘cause I think a vanilla sundae is the perfect metaphor for you two dweebs,” Willam called from across the room, causing Bob to snicker and high five him.

“Fuck off!” Courtney shouted back. “I put rainbow sprinkles on it. And this cherry.” She lifted the maraschino cherry out by the stem, twirling it on her tongue.

“Give me that…” Roy said.

“Oh, you want this?” Courtney teased, batting her lashes. She glanced over to see if Adore was watching, feeling a rush of adrenaline from the other girl’s eyes on her.

“Yes. Please baby, give me your cherry…”

Courtney giggled, dangling it in front of him tauntingly. “Say please again, tell me how much you want it…” she breathed.

Unable to take it anymore, Adore got up, utterly disgusted, and stalked outside.

“Adore! Come back, we’re up next!” April called.

“Raincheck,” Adore grumbled, slamming the sliding glass door behind her.

Courtney paused, holding the cherry mid-air, wondering if she’d gone too far. She wanted Adore’s attention, but not to piss her off.

“Babyyy,” Roy whimpered.

“Here,” Courtney said, shoving the cherry into his mouth and letting out a disappointed sigh.

-

Adore found Raja out on the patio with Jinkx, smoking and drinking. She went up to Raja and demanded a cigarette.

“You don’t smoke,” the older girl told her breezily.

“I do tonight,” she insisted.

Raja handed Adore her lit cigarette and lit another for herself, watching her carefully. Adore looked over at Jinkx, holding a bottle of Jack Daniels, and snatched it out of her hands, taking a long slug, then another.

“You okay there, tiger?” Jinkx asked.

Adore wiped her mouth, shrugging. Pearl and Shea were sitting on top of a retaining wall, just a few feet away. Adore looked over at them just as Shea whispered something to Pearl, both laughing softly. Adore narrowed her eyes, irritated.

“What’s with you two?” she asked hoarsely. “Are you like, fucking now?”

Shea’s eyes widened in shock.

“Adore!” Pearl cried, horrified.

“Um, I have to...I should probably get going...it’s late and I need...uh…” Shea stammered, sliding down and backing away.

“Shea, I’m sorry, you don’t have to go, you can-” Pearl protested.

“No, it’s fine, I should have left earlier anyway, but...I’ll see you around, okay?” She turned around, hurrying from the yard through the side gate.

Pearl turned towards Adore, irritated, as shrieking laughter sounded from the pool.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Pearl began.

Nearby, Raven’s voice called out, “Raja! Come here!!”

Raja looked over to the pool, where Raven was fooling around with a bunch of kids and some massive flotation devices, then back at Adore. She took Jinkx by the hand and dragged her over to the pool, leaving Adore and Pearl alone on the patio.

Adore sighed, pulling her flannel tighter around herself. Despite it being May, there was a chill in the air.

Pearl watched her for a few moments before saying, “Alright. Out with it. What’s going on?”

“What?” Adore asked defensively.

“There’s only one thing that puts you in this kind of mood, so what? They do some gross hetero promise ring bullshit? He banging her out in one of the back bedrooms? Tell me.”

Adore sighed. “No, they’re just...eating an ice cream sundae.”

“Oh yeah,” Pearl nodded. “I can see why that would send you over the edge.”

“You weren’t there.”

“True.”

“It was really...too much.” Adore sighed again, taking another drag of the cigarette.

“Have you ever considered just telling her how you feel?”

“About as much as I’ve considered putting this cigarette out in my own eye,” Adore replied.

“Gotcha.”

“This is disgusting, by the way.”

Pearl nodded. “Yeah, it’s awful. Takes years off your life, too.”

“Ugh. Fuck this whole fucking night, man.”

Pearl moved closer to her, put a hand on her shoulder.

“Listen. I’m sorry you’re having a rough night. And you know, I really love you, and I’m always here if you want to talk. But...if you ever fuck up my game again, I will punch you in the face.”

Adore laughed and covered her eyes. “Shit. Sorry.”

Pearl kissed her forehead. “It’s alright. You get one pass.”

-

Adore sat on the retaining wall, holding the empty bottle of Jack, feeling slightly dizzy and more than a little sick. Her downcast eyes were dull with regret.

“So…fun party, huh?”

She looked up to see Raja standing there, with that typical, aloof expression, and her body tensed up, tears filling her eyes.

“Raja, don’t. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just, I can’t, I can’t explain, I don’t-”

“Hey, hey, I’m not asking you to explain anything.” Raja stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Adore sniffled, guilt filling her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m also not asking you to apologize. We all have shitty days. It’s fine. Yesterday I kicked over a trash can and called Raven a cow.”

“Seriously?” Adore laughed, amused in spite of her shitty mood.

“It’s fine, she deserved it.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Adore wiped her eyes.

Raja smiled. “You wanna get out of here?”

“God, yes.”

“Cool.” She took her fingers and gently tilted Adore’s chin up, placing a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. “You really are so beautiful, you know that?”

Adore sighed. “Sure you’re not just looking at your own reflection in my eyeballs?”

Raja grasped both of her cheeks and looked closer at her face. “Holy shit! How have I never seen my own reflection before?”

Adore giggled.

“Hold still! Oh my god, she is stunning!”

“Stop it.”

Raja helped her down and led them towards the gate, an arm slung around Adore’s shoulders.

“Seriously, I don’t know how you manage to concentrate on anything with all this staggering beauty in front of you…”

-

Courtney stood at the stove, stirring a pot of tomato sauce, as Adore perched on the counter. They were discussing prom—or rather, Raja’s prom, which Adore was having second thoughts about attending.

“Don’t you think that she should understand how you feel? I mean you were basically hate-crimed on stage,” Courtney said.  

“Well. I think she does understand, but on the other hand…it’s her prom. And I said I’d go, like a month ago,” Adore reasoned.

“But that was a month ago,” Courtney said. “Come here, taste this.”

Adore jumped down, sighing, and walked over to her.

“I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it was a month ago. But…”

Courtney blew on the wooden spoon, cupping Adore’s chin gently in her hand. She fed her a small taste of the sauce, eyes watching her carefully.

“Do you think it’s too spicy?” she whispered.

Closing her eyes for a moment as Courtney’s fingers brushed against her cheek, a thrill rippling through her at the contact, Adore shook her head.

“No, it...it’s good.” She cleared her throat and took a few steps back. “Um, maybe a pinch more salt?”

“Thanks.” Courtney nodded and went back to the stove, humming slightly. “I think you should do whatever you feel comfortable with. She may be a little bummed if you decide not to go, but Raja doesn’t seem like the type to make a huge deal over prom anyway. Right?”

“Yeah, I...I mean that’s what I thought, but...I dunno.” Adore sighed again, sitting down heavily at the table. “I just really don’t want to make this a big fucking thing.”

Courtney sat down beside her. “So don’t.”

“But isn’t that selling out? Letting the bigots win?” Adore’s voice broke, remembering the heated conversation with Raja earlier that day.

Courtney scooted her chair closer, biting her lip, a slight guilt washing over her. She knew that if she didn’t have ambivalent feelings about Raja, about Adore’s moony-eyed puppy love, the was a chance she might be saying something slightly different. Maybe. But ulterior motives aside, she didn’t like to see her friend so torn up inside. She reached out and took Adore’s hand.

“Listen. Will you have to stand up to these kind of assholes someday? Yeah, probably. And when you do, I’ll stand up with you. But does it have to be over someone else’s prom? This week? Not unless you want. It’s still your life. You are the only one who can make that decision.”

Adore nodded. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Courtney brushed a lock of hair off of Adore’s face

-

ADORE: Well. Turns out I was being a total pissbaby drama queen. It was just a fucking dance, no one said a word.

ADORE: Like, literally, nothing happened and I feel like a complete asshole.

COURTNEY: So you had fun?

ADORE: Yeah. I mean, you know. It was a school dance. It wasn’t life-changing or anything. Lol. But sure, it was fun.

ADORE: I might just not be a school dance type. I don’t have a lot of...like...spirit.

COURTNEY: Well, yeah, duh. ;P

ADORE: lol

COURTNEY: <3

ADORE: I’m gonna sleep now but wanna hang out later?

COURTNEY: Sure. Text me when you wake up.

ADORE: Ok. XO

COURTNEY: XO

-

Adore wasn’t positive why she agreed to this. Granted, she always used to be part of the group movie night expeditions with the neighborhood crew, but ever since she’d branched off and started to hang out with Violet’s group, she’d found one excuse or another to say no. But for some reason, today, she found herself in the local multiplex with Courtney, Roy, Darienne, Thorgy, Bob, April, Alyssa, and Jamin - who she supposed was off probation now that Darienne could stand to be around him again. To make matters worse, they had collectively decided on the most basic of all basic movies - some superhero action nonsense starring Christian Bale and Joey from Dawson’s Creek, who was way less cool when stripped of her Joey vocabulary words.

Adore sighed, sipping her swimming pool sized soda. At least Roy, in a show of macho bravado, had offered to pay for her and Courtney’s snacks. So she had gigantic popcorn, 2 Kit Kat bars, Junior Mints, Twizzlers, Sour Patch Kids, and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups to help her get through the experience. It cost her some side-eye, but whatever. If he was dumb enough to make that offer, then he should be prepared to handle the consequences.

It would have been nice if Raja could have made it, but as usual, she was working. It seemed like lately, the only time they had together was super late at night after CeCe’s closed down. She couldn’t blame her girlfriend - she knew that Raja was saving up to get her own place. But still, it was a little annoying to be sandwiched between April and Bob on one side (who she was pretty sure were engaging in some kind of gross hand job action under Bob’s letterman jacket), and Courtney and Roy on the other, cuddling and making Adore want to vomit, as usual.

Courtney turned towards Adore, a contented smile on her face.

“I am totally not following the plot of this movie,” she whispered, giggling.

Adore rolled her eyes. “It’s not that deep. He’s afraid of bats. He becomes a bat. Joey Potter loves him for some inexplicable reason.”

“Right. I keep thinking there must be more to it though?”

“Nope.”

Courtney inched closer to Adore.

“This theatre is freezing. Share your jacket with me.” She gazed over with a pouty face, fluttering her lashes.

Adore shrugged her off. It was one thing when they were alone, but when she pulled this kind of stuff in front of other people, it always made Adore extremely self-conscious. It was a total lose-lose for her. If she reacted too eagerly, it would be totally obvious to everyone and their mother how hard she was crushing on her best friend, but when she pushed her away, she had to deal with those hurt puppy eyes.

“Get off, bitch…”

“Please, Dory. I’ll be your best friend forever and-”

“SHHH!” Bob hissed.

“How are you not more relaxed right now?” Adore challenged, gesturing to his lap. April’s eyes went wide in embarrassment. Adore smirked and sat back in her seat.

“Babe, come here. You can wear my jacket.”

Courtney snuggled up to Roy, lovingly placing a piece of popcorn in his mouth. What was it with Courtney and feedinghim? Was that like a kink thing? Adore shook her head. Sick. She sighed again, shifting uncomfortably. It was possible that the largest size soda wasn’t the best idea.

On the screen, Joey Potter was reaching towards Christian Bale, drawing him towards her.

Courtney inhaled sharply, and reached over, instinctively grasping for Adore’s hand in the dark, holding on tight while the actors’ lips met in a slow kiss, the music soaring. Adore’s heart pounded. She knew that this was just Courtney, it didn’t really mean anything, but it didn’t change how it made her feel. How it made her palms sweat and her pulse race, to be here in the dark, fingers intertwined and slippery with fake butter.

And then, of course, she saw Roy’s eyes, just for a moment, when the screen flashed white. Glaring at her. Did he know? Was Adore that transparent? Or was he just peeved that Courtney was grabbing Adore’s hand and not his? Anxiety filled Adore’s chest and she wrenched her hand away.

Courtney, oblivious as always, leaned her head on Roy’s shoulder and continued to watch the movie while Adore gripped the arms of the seat, her knuckles turning white. She got up and bolted for the exit, muttering about the bathroom.

Courtney turned her head and watched as Adore raced up the aisle, then turned back to the screen, biting her lip. A lump formed in her throat. She was so tired of this endless loop they were in - Courtney reaching out, taking the smallest baby steps, only to have Adore push her away. Maybe it was useless. Maybe Violet was right all those months ago when she said that Adore would never like her back. She sighed.

Roy kissed the top of her head. “Bored, baby?”

“Uh, no, just...sorry, my mind wandered a little. This movie is so dark. I think I need more color to hold my attention.”

Roy laughed, pressing his lips to her temple. “You’re the fucking cutest, you know that?”

Courtney smiled up at him. “How about after the movie, you can tell me all about how cute I am?” She kissed him lightly, sliding a hand up his thigh.

“Deal.”

[totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes]

Photograph (Fanfic)

I call this “Paige didn’t want to study for chemistry anymore, got home from work late, and even though she said she was going to wait until after finals she compulsively wrote a 4,000 word short story”

Or ya know, “Photography” ...the title of the fanfic

To say Lydia was excited was an understatement. Her and three students from her photography club at school were nominated as finalists in a statewide competition, the winner of that would go on to the nationals. Lydia was the youngest of the four, the only freshman with two juniors and a senior so while she didn’t think her chances of winning were all that great she was just thrilled to have simply been nominated. Of her portfolio, the nominated piece was a photograph of a chemical reaction she had been doing in her chemistry club. Her photography teacher said it was the strangest photo he had ever seen, but he claimed to be mesmerized by it. He actually wanted her to submit another picture but she didn’t think it would be fair to submit photos she took with the help of Adam, Barbara, or Charles. None of the other students could be floated to an ideal location for a picture, so she simply took these for fun. 

Going to the competition was a  whole week off of school, and four hours away from home. Not that she hadn’t been away from home before, her parents used to send her to sleep-away-camps all the time when she was little, but this would be the first time she would be away from her family since….well she didn’t want to think about it that way. She just wanted to be able to go and have a good time like a normal person would. She marked down the days on the calendar in the kitchen excitedly as the trip approached. Breaking the news to Beetlejuice was the hardest, even though he didn’t like to admit it he thought Lydia was funny and without her, it would just be adults in the house. Lydia promised to make it up to him and that they’d play a fun prank on her dad and Delia when she got back. In the end, the negotiated deal was two pranks on her dad and Delia as well as the guarantee that she would bring him back a zagnut from wherever she was going because “they taste different depending on where they’re from.” Lydia didn’t argue with him on that as the discussion had already gone on longer than she would have liked. 

It was the night before the trip and shockingly the person most anxious was Barbara. She help Lydia pack her bag, constantly asking her if twelve outfits would be enough for a seven-day trip or if she needed a new toothbrush even though the one she had was perfectly okay, and hardly a month old. She expected this kind of behavior from her helicopter parent of her father but he was actually very laid back about the whole situation, probably trying to not overwhelm her because even though Lydia denied it she was anxious about the whole thing. Not only that but she really did want to win. She worked really hard at her hobbies, and it took her begging her teacher to let her redo the reaction eight different times just so she could get the photo exactly how she wanted it. She knew her shot of winning was really slim considering that not only was she the youngest in her group from school but she was one of the youngest in the whole competition. She was right in between the two different age categories as a freshman, but she managed to be nominated. 

Lydia was sitting on her bed, the suitcase of her belongings on the floor beneath her. She glanced around the room trying to make sure there wasn’t something important she was forgetting when she smacked herself on the head for forgetting to grab at least one of her cameras. She picked up her favorite camera, though she only had two and the one was a very old polaroid camera she only used for aesthetic purposes and walked down to the kitchen to see what everybody else was up to that night. It must have been later than she expected because the only person downstairs was Barbara who was making herself her typical late-night snack of peanut-butter toast drizzled with honey. 

“Too excited for tomorrow that you can’t sleep?” Barbara asked

Lydia shrugged, “No, I was just going over my last-minute checklist. Making sure I had all my ducks in a row.”

“Oh, so you’re back to being the duck queen?”

Lydia went to playfully smack Barbara’s arm but her hand simply slide through her as Barbara went non-solid to avoid the blow. Both laughed and she gestured for Lydia to join her in the late-night feast. 

“I’m only teasing. So do you think you’re ready? Have you written your acceptance speech for when you blow the competition out of the water and win first prize.”

“Unlikely, all the other pictures I’ve seen look really impressive and I haven’t even gotten to see people from out of our district. I’m just looking forward to getting to spend time with my friends on the trip, they already talked about staying up late to tell ghost stories,” she laughed, “I guess I will be winning that game.”

“And you’re sure that you have everything all set? Did you pack your camera.”

She nodded and pointed at the camera around her neck, “It would take a lot for me to lose this thing.”

“And you have an extra outfit for every day of the trip plus the fancy dress that your dad bought for you to wear to the awards ceremony.”

Lydia simply groaned in response to that one. Her dad should understand by this point that she isn’t a bright and colorful kind of girl, but he insisted on a red and blue dress, arguing that black is too formal for the event she’s attending. The dress wasn’t ugly, it just wasn’t her style at all, but the fact that her dad went out of his depths to get it for her made her a little more willing to compromise and wear it. 

“And it’s four hours away from here, do you have all your medicines packed. I know you’re allergic to penicillin so even if you have to go to the doctor out there because you got some kind of infection don’t let them prescribe you penicillin, amoxicillin, ampicillin-”

“I think I’m old enough to know my own allergies,” she laughed, “Besides I’m not sick so I don't think I’ll be needed an antibiotic any time soon.”

“Just making sure, and if you don’t like what they have to eat I convinced your dad to give you an extra twenty dollars so you can go buy yourself something else because I know you and you’d rather just skip that meal than say you don’t like something. I know it’s part of your anxiety so I figured this would be the easiest solution for you. So no skipping meals okay?”

“I did that twice because they were serving fish at school!” Lydia retorted trying not to be a little agitated with the lack of confidence Barbara had in her about this trip. She was still a kid, but she’s been alone before, she didn’t need the whole run down that she’s already gotten from her father and Delia. 

Barbara smiled at her gently and the agitation faded, “I’m just so proud of you! This is a huge deal and when you get back with your first place trophy.”

“Ribbon and that’s if I even get first place which I’m not-”

“We’re going to have a celebratory dinner and cake!”

“I don’t get cake if I don’t get first place?” Lydia faked whined, knowing the answer

“Nope, so you’d better hope you get first place because I don’t just make a vanilla cake with cream cheese frosting for anybody.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, and without even thinking the words slipped off her tongue, “Okay mom.”

Neither of them said anything, nobody wanting to be the person who acknowledged it. Lydia felt the heat rising to her face instantly and tried to stammer out some kind of correction but she just got more and more flustered the harder she tried to fix it. 

“No, no it’s okay!” Barbara tried to put the girl at ease but before she could even get the next sentence out Lydia ran upstairs and slammed her door shut. Feeling terrible Barbara tried to go and talk to Lydia but there was no answer when she knocked on the teenagers door. She only knew for sure that she was in there when something was thrown at the door in anger when Barbara tried talking to her through the door. She had no clue what she was supposed to do next, it was an accident. She knew Lydia didn’t mean to say it and Barbara certainly didn’t want to be viewed as a replacement for Emily. She never tried to be, she was always very careful about how she referred to Lydia. Though she often laments to Adam and Beetlejuice how Lydia is like the daughter she never got to have, she would never dream to say that to Lydia’s face. Instead, she tried to seem more like a friendly aunt who just so happened to live upstairs and also be there for Lydia anytime she needed her and help her with her homework and school problems. Suddenly Barbara felt really guilty, she hadn’t even realized it until then but she really did encroach into the motherly role maybe a little too much for Lydia’s comfort. She had been pretty overbearing about this trip ever since Lydia told her about it. She should have read the signals Lydia was giving a little more closely, then maybe this whole thing wouldn’t have happened. She didn’t notice that she was sitting with her back to her door until a groggy but concerned Charles was standing in front of her.

“What happened?” Barbara asked him

“I guess I could ask you the same thing. I just about thirty texts from Lydia telling me that she doesn’t want to go on the trip anymore. That she isn’t feeling well and doesn’t want to get anybody else sick and ruin it for them. You’ve clearly been with her tonight, what are we talking because I’m pretty squeamish. I can deal with her having a cough but please don’t tell me she has the stomach flu. I’m no good at seeing other people puke.”

“She’s not sick. Look this is all my fault, I’ve really been overstepping my bounds recently with this whole trip four hours away. I’ve been on her case about making sure she has everything packed and I know she didn’t mean it...Charles, she called me mom earlier. In the kitchen.”

He sighed, placing his hand on his temples, “Not exactly the problem I thought I would have to handle tonight, but I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. Look no offense, but I think it might be for the better if I’m the one who talks to her. She’s probably confusing her anger at herself for being angry at you.”

“Yeah, I’d be careful walking in. She threw something at the door when I was trying to talk to her. It sounded like it broke, I’m not sure if it’s glass.”

Barbara desperately wanted to make sure Lydia was okay but she knew Charles was right, it was better off if she left Lydia to cool down about the whole situation. She couldn’t imagine how confused she must feel. It’s one thing to accidentally call a teacher mom, but Lydia’s situation was a world of difference. She wandered around the house aimlessly for a little while until she just went back into the attic and told Adam about what happened. 

“Well I mean it’s kinda cute that she called you mom.”

Barbara threw her book at her husband, “Adam! No, it’s not, she was really upset about it. I feel awful.”

“I know you feel bad about it but that just means that Lydia loves you so much that she sees you as someone she can trust like a mother. I know she knows you aren’t trying to become the new Emily. Nobody could compete with Emily Deetz for her. Look she’s just embarrassed about it, she’ll get over it by the morning and I’m sure she’ll be feeling fine for her trip.”

“God if she doesn’t go because of me I’ll probably never forgive myself.”

“She’s a resilient girl, I’m sure she’ll come around.”

Barbara nodded and let her husband envelop her in a much-needed hug, “She’s our girl, huh?”

When Charles knocked on his daughter’s door it was a quick response of  “Go away Barbara.”

“It’s dad.”

The door creaked open and standing in front of him was a sullen Lydia wearing a nightdress that was a size too big for her, and rubbing aggressively at her eyes to cover up the fact that she had probably been crying, “What do you want? I told you I’m not feeling good.”

“Barbara told me about what happened.”

She scoffed, “Of course she did. Because everybody has to know how much of a freaking idiot I am.” 

“Do you want to talk about it.”

“No I don’t. I just want everybody to leave me alone, but nobody ever listens to me. Nothing that you’re going to say is going to do anything. I don’t want to go anymore, it’s simple as that. It has nothing to do with what happened. I just don’t feel like it anymore. I’m not going to win anyway so what’s the point of even going?” she crossed her arms and slumped back down on her bed, “I’m not even really friends with the other kids that are going. They’re all way older than me, they probably don’t even want a dumb freshman following them around like some lost puppy.”

Charles sat on the edge of her bed, careful not to disrupt the sleeping cat nestled between the covers. He put his hands on the bottom half of her curled up leg, “I think this sudden change of heart runs a lot deeper than you being afraid of not fitting in with the other kids.”

“Gee, what gave that away dad?”

Charles tried to ignore the sarcastic tone she was taking up, trying to understand that she was very emotional right now and didn’t mean to be disrespectful, “So do you want to talk about what’s really bothering you? Because I don’t think it’s Barbara either.”

There was no response from Lydia besides her shifting position to laying face down in the bed, her face smooshed into her pillow. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Lydia mumbled something but it was muffled by the pillow.

“What?”

“I’m happy!” Lydia shot up and shouted, “Okay? I’m happy and I’m not supposed to be. No, like I know I’m allowed to be happy but it’s just...ughh I just don’t know how to explain it. It’s just so confusing.”

“You’re upset because you’re happy?”

Lydia nodded, “It’s just that everything has been going good recently and I don’t like it. It feels wrong, I feel wrong about it.”

“Honey it’s a good thing that you’re feeling happy! That’s what you’ve been working on with your therapist and with all of us here. That’s just the natural progression of your progress.”

“I feel so guilty about it. Like I’ve got so much going on in my life now. I’ve got school and babysitting, and photography club and this competition, and I’ve got Wendy and all you guys. I feel like I’m forgetting about mom. I don’t think about her as much as I used to. I used to think about her constantly and some days all I get is a quick memory, how terrible is that? I can hardly remember what her voice sounds like anymore. I promised her, I promised myself that I would never forget her and I’ve apparently already replaced her in my mind!” She was getting erratic now, the words flying out of her mouth faster than Charles could process them, “I never thought about it until...I just can’t believe I did that.”

“Sweetheart, it isn’t that big of a deal. It was an accident, everybody knows that. You know that.”

“I called her mom!” She shouted, throwing herself back into her pillow again, “I called her mom, dad!”

“It’s okay, it just slipped out. She’s someone you love and value-”

“I have a mother!” Lydia was crying now, “I have a mother, and I just called another person mom. She only died a year and a half ago, I should still be mourning but instead, I went out and found a new mom. I bet she’s really happy about that in the Netherworld, “Oh Emily Deetz, no don’t bother sending any signs to Lydia anymore. She’s completely moved on, in fact, she gone and outright replaced you!” ”

“You’re being too harsh on yourself!” Charles tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t acknowledge him, “You aren’t forgetting about your mother, you are just going through life. It happens, we all get caught up in things in our lives. You’re young, and though a lot of older people would tell you that your life isn’t hard work you’re really busy! Truthfully I would be more concerned if it had been a year and a half and you still hadn’t been able to go about your life. This isn’t a bad thing, it doesn’t mean that you’re a bad daughter because you don’t spend every waking minute thinking about her. You didn’t do that when she was here.”

She still kept her face buried in her pillow. Charles gently pushed her shoulder and rolled her over to look at him. Her eyes were glassy both from tiredness and sadness, “I feel like I’m betraying her and I know that makes me sound insane but it’s how I feel.”

“She would be so happy for you, you’re doing amazing things in your life and she would be so freaking proud of you. All of it, all the progress you’ve made. Just look at how far you’ve come, Lydia! I know how hard it must be for you to stop and wonder if you’re going through this right and honestly that’s just how life is sometimes. There’s a lot you will never know for certain but I can tell you right now that Emily would want above all else for you to be happy, to feel loved, and to love others. You’re doing all of that in spaids. So try not to feel guilty because you’re doing exactly what she would want you to do if she was here.” 

Lydia sat up and pulled her cat into her lap, a few tears that had been building up streaked down her face and she quickly wiped them away, “I shouldn’t have lashed out at Barbara. It’s not her fault that I called her mom.”

“She understands.”

“I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much, it’s just that this is the first time that I’m going to be away from all you guys, and I’m...I’m scared. Ever since mom died you’ve all at least been around somewhere, I always had somebody else there that knew what was going on and now I’m going to be going four hours away for a whole week all by myself. I haven’t gotten them as bad as I used to but what if I have a nightmare and they make fun of me? It’s bad enough that I’m the youngest one going but if I have a nightmare and start crying they’re all going to make fun of me.” Lydia began to get more worked up and she leaned her head on Charle’s shoulders in an attempt to soothe herself, “I’m always caught in between being okay and then feeling bad that I’m doing okay and then making myself worse! Then I just take it out on everyone else.”

“I get like this too Lydia, it just feels more intense for you because you’re younger. God when I first proposed to Delia I felt like I was betraying Emily too and then when I told you I was convinced that I was doing the wrong thing, but I eventually knew that she wouldn’t want me to be lonely for the rest of my life. She would know that I still loved her, and missed her.”

“I miss her too.” Lydia lamented as she gently scratched her cat behind the ears, “I wish she could be here for the competition because she would love some of the photographs. Doug Hilton took a picture of like a bunch of people wearing these super creepy rabbit masks in a cornfield. It’s a really neat picture, it scared the teacher but I loved it.”

“I’m sure she would love all of them. Especially yours, but not because she’s biased, but because it is the best.”

“You’re starting to sound like Barbara.” Lydia laughed, her guilt and anger slowly starting to fade away as she thought about how her mom would feel. 

“I’m serious though, you’ve got a real talent and I’d hate to see you miss out on this opportunity because you’re feeling afraid that enjoying yourself is somehow disappointing Emily. So what do you say? Do you still not want to go?”

Lydia thought about it for a second before shaking her head, “I want to go.”

Charles smiled at his daughter and patted her proudly on the shoulder, “I knew you would. Now it is way too late for you to still be up. You have to be on the bus for eight o’clock tomorrow morning, try to get some sleep okay?”

She nodded, laying down in her bed, pulling the covers up to her face and closing her eyes. Her cat purred as she snuggled up against Lydia’s stomach. Charles gave Lydia a soft kiss on the forehead before shutting the lights off and closing the door. 

In the end, Lydia didn’t win the competition. She was right that she was the youngest one there. First place went to a senior from a school she had never even hear of, but Lydia didn’t care. When she came back home after the week she sat at the dinner table telling everyone all the fun stories she had from her trip, laughing until her side hurt when Beetlejuice threw a piece of cake at her father’s face, but Charles’ just swiped her face with his finger and licked the frosting off in stride claiming he preferred his cake that way. Even though there was no blue first place ribbon attached to her photography it was framed and hanging on the wall alongside her invitation to the event. By the time everyone had been partied out that night it was just Lydia and Barbara still in the kitchen. Without saying a word Lydia leaped into a huge hug before trotting up happily to her room, her kitten scurrying behind her.

“That’s my girl,” Barbara whispered. 

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

in too deep (part 5) - jules

jules x reader

TW: drugging

warnings: beating, homophobia, threat of death, i think that’s pretty much it??

notes: ooooohhh we’re getting closer to the end! not that i’m excited for this to end, but i’m just excited for you guys to see it

i really hope that me putting homophobia in this story doesn’t make you guys think i’m homophobic bc that’s the farthest thing from true. since i changed the gender of the mickey stand-in, i felt like it might be more interesting to add another dynamic into the story so it wasn’t just a word for word copy of the original except with a girl, bc that seems really one-dimensional to me. i feel like i need to put one of those things they have in movie credits like “the views in this film in no way reflect the views of the studio that produced it” kinda thing

also i think this may be my favorite part that i’ve written, bc if you didn’t notice, i’ve never left the reader’s perspective during the whole thing, so i had to improv a bit during the parts of the movie we didn’t get to see with mickey, and maybe i’m just a lil proud of myself :’)

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

for the first time since you came up with your brilliant plan to siphon the gas, you actually felt a glimmer of hope. jules was smart, she’d surely find a way out of the house; and she was damn loyal, too, so you knew there was no chance she’d leave you behind. 

sadly all those hopes were dashed when you heard the basement door creak open again. 

fuck, this whole plan was dependent on the fact that no one else came downstairs! your hands clammed up, your heart rate quickening as footsteps descended the stairs, stopping dead in their tracks once they reached the bottom. 

  “where the hell’d that little bitch go?” george roared, scanning every nook and cranny in the basement to see if jules was hiding anywhere. “answer me!”

you stayed silent, more out of fear than some sort of strategy. you quickly realized this was the wrong decision as george viciously backhanded you across the face. your head whipped to the side, eyes blinking back into focus from the impact. you felt something sticky on your lips and realized it was blood. 

  “you’re so angry,” you groaned. “why? just ‘cause you’re shooting blanks?” you pouted in mock sympathy. this sudden boost of confidence seemed to be a mistake as you saw george’s expression shift into a dangerously content one. 

  “i’m gonna rip your fuckin’ heart out.” your face dropped as he spoke. “i understand you not wantin’ to tell me where she is. in fact, if i were in your position i suppose i’d do the same. but god almighty i’m gonna watch ya’ die. i’m gonna hurt ya’.”

you were stunned into silence but you decided saying something, anything, would be better than nothing. “she’s gone, man. you just need to give it up.”

this seemed to strike a nerve in him. he turned towards you again and delivered another swift slap, knocking the wind out of you. he smacked you again, the back of your head knocking into the pole and causing your consciousness to fade for a moment. 

  “you think i’m full of hot air, don’t you? only good on roughin’ you up?” he asked rhetorically. “you know i worked as a door-to-door salesman for a few years? learned a lot, but the most important thing i learned was how to read people. and at the end of the day, you’re just an open book, sweetheart.”

the name sounded like poison dripping from his lips. it made you sick, that name belonged to jules. 

  “i know your type, believe you me, i’ve seen quite a few in my time. you see, you like to think you’re tough, strong, resilient, but at the end of the day, you just value her life above yours.” he laughed to himself. “am i right?”

he chuckled again when you didn’t answer. “that’s alright, you don’t have to answer, i know i’m right. well, you people are more loyal than i thought. guess i gotta give credit where credit’s due.”

  “fuck you.” you spat. “don’t fucking talk about her like that.” he stood up again, this time grabbing something from a shelf before making his way back to you. 

  “alright, no more pussyfootin’ around, time to get down to business.” he revealed the knife, positioning it under your ear as he prepared to slice it off. 

  “sheisn’tgoingtothecops!” you breathed out quickly, hoping he’d let you keep both ears with the statement. 

  “what? what’d you say?” he seemed caught of guard by the sudden admission, backing off of you. 

  “not yet, anyway.” you took a moment to catch your breath. “i told her to wait. yeah, we got a little meet up spot. now if i don’t show up there in an hour or so, then yeah, cops galore. you’re fucked, buddy. but, if i do show up, we just continue on our way like none of this happened.”

you took another shaky breath before you continued. “if we’re being honest here, i don’t want the cops involved any more than you do. y’know, the whole ‘not gainfully employed’ thing? the cops aren’t a huge fan of that one.”

george seemed to take this into consideration, nodding quietly to himself. “what about sweetiepie?”

  “her? i don’t give a fuck about her, she’s the whole reason i’m in this mess.” you winked at her, hoping she’d understand the message. 

george snapped the blade shut, producing the key from to the cuffs from his jacket pocket. 

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

  “any last words for this son of a bitch?” george asked gloria as he trained the pistol on you.

  “oh, i do wish you’d handled things differently. we could’ve had somethin’ beautiful here.” she smiled sadly, mourning what could’ve been. 

  “i’ll see you in hell,” george mumbled as he opened the door for you. you stepped into the doorway, only to stop dead in your tracks when you heard your girlfriend’s voice. shit.

  “stop, don’t kill her!” jules shouted from the top of the steps, baby doll in hand. “i will smash it!” she held it over the railing, dangling precariously above the hardwood flooring beneath. 

  “whew, that was close.” george laughed, closing the door behind you. “unhand my baby!” gloria whined. 

  “alright, missy, calm down. no one’s gonna get hurt.” he kept the gun aimed at your head, but gloria quickly pried it out of his hands and took a shot at jules. she crouched to shield herself from the bullet that thankfully missed, but in doing so let go of the baby that plummeted to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces. 

  “get your ass down here or i’ll blow her brains out!” george shouted gruffly as jules descended the staircase. she ran to you, hugging you close and helping you to stand on your injured leg. 

gloria rushed out of the room, bloody pieces of ceramic in hand as george turned back to you. “look what you gone and did. what did i do to deserve you two?”

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

  “cooking’s a zen art for my dear gloria. i’ve found there’s a method to it: the more upset she is, the bigger the dish it takes to pull her out.” george explained. “needless to say, i think the two of you just summoned up a banquet.”

the two of you had been crudely duct-taped to some chairs in the dining room, forced to listen to the stuffy dialogue between the husband and wife. “why? why do you keep her down there?” jules asked. 

  “it’s not what you think.” he looked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t listening. “my gloria, she’s always wanted a child. unfortunately, the good lord did not have that in his plans for us. so, i had to take matters into my own hands.”

  “oh, so you kidnapped her.” jules stated bluntly. george glared at her, but continued his explanation. 

  “as you get older, things get... complicated, and i swear to god i had no ill intentions. i just wanted to make my wife happy.” he smiled. “and she was for a bit, until she started to remind her of what she couldn’t have. she asked me to make her go away, but i couldn’t bring myself do that, so the basement is our compromise.” 

  “dinner is served!” gloria announced, wheeling in a cart full of dishes of shepherd’s pie. she placed one on everyone’s plate before she sat down. they quickly said grace before digging into their food. 

  “so are you guys gonna kill us or...? what’s the deal?” jules asked matter-of-factly. you wanted to nudge her shoulder and ask her what in the hell made her so bold, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. 

  “george, you didn’t tell them?” gloria asked confusedly. “i wanted to make ‘em squirm a bit,” he smirked. 

  “t-tell us what?” you cursed yourself for stuttering but you couldn’t help it, it came out when you were anxious. 

  “we’re not gonna kill you.” george mumbled, almost sounding disappointed. “i said we’re not gonna kill ‘ya, what are you deaf?” you stifled a grin at jules, not wanting to change their decision to set you free. “we’ve decided that, despite your piss-poor behavior, the logistics of it just don’t make no sense for us.”

  “sooner or later someone’s gonna come lookin’ for you two. now, i can hide a body like the easter bunny hides an egg, but the two of you have been sweatin’, spittin’, and pissin’ all over this place.” he paused to take a sip of his drink. “anywho, i’m bound to miss a spot. i figure we have a better chance of hitting the road. we’ll give it 48 hours, tip off the police, they’ll come by and pick ya’ up. i reckon you’ll do some time for whatever the hell you two did, but at least you’ll still be drawing breath. so congratulations, you should be thankful. you just won the damn lottery.”

jules spared a glance at you as if to say, what now? “take your time eatin’ you got another couple days in those chairs.” george muttered as he took another bite of his meal. 

screw it, you thought. we’re hungry and going to jail in the next two days, what harm could a nice meal do? you both picked up your forks and knives and tucked in to the plate in front of you. you nearly let out a moan in satisfaction as the food hit your tongue. you scooped up more greedily as you had no clue if and when the next time you’d get fed would be. 

  “wait,” jules swallowed the food in her mouth. “what’s gonna happen to her?” gloria glanced over to george, waiting for the answer to the question as well.

  “well, i’m sure they’ll put her some place nice. these orphanages, i hear they’re like five-star resorts.” george answered. 

  “does that upset you?” gloria turned to jules, a smile of mock empathy on her face. “anything’s better than down there.” jules mumbled. 

  “you got a heart of gold, jules. is your full name julia?” jules nodded in response. “my mother’s name was julia. she had a good heart, too, you remind me of her.”

  “she died of cancer when i was real little. it was a slow, painful process, but i was with her every step of the way!” she grinned as her husband blew her a kiss. “the day before she died, she told me to look in the closet, that i’d find a special surprise for me in there. it was a package, wrapped up nice and pretty, with a tiny card with my name on it. she insisted i opened it, so i wiped away my tears, tore open the paper and there it was. a doll.” 

everything stilled. every sound, the scraping of cutlery on the plate, the sound of everyone breathing, even the breeze blowing through the window decided this was a nice time to take a break. 

  “she said it was a magic doll,” she continued. “that no matter how sad i became, and believe me, i became very sad, i’d always have him with me. my ethan.”

your gut instincts finally kicked in as you spat out the food that was in your mouth, the gross pile of chewed up beef and potatoes looking oddly blurry to you. jules looked equally as mortified, probably even more since she was the one who brought about the end of the magic doll. 

  “and she was right; he was magical. and you took him away from me.” she grinned her creepy stepford wife grin once more. jules mumbled something but everything sounded miles away from you as your head swam. 

  “wha-what is this?” you slurred, the bright colors of the table morphing into one another. 

  “this is a drug overdose, y/n.” he chuckled when you sluggishly turned your head towards him. “i know, i know, i fibbed about lettin’ you live, but see, you had a veritable pharmacy in that bag of yours. you two just munched down enough pills to put a bull to bed,” his voice muffled into indiscernible nonsense, though you knew he was still speaking. 

  “f-fuck you,” jules managed, still keeping her head up. you, on the other hand, were slumped over, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. 

george got up from his seat, pulling your head up by your hair. “not so tough now, are ya’?” he jested. 

jules muttered something in your defense, but as soon as your head dropped, you were down for the count; just missing the hopeful ring of the doorbell, possibly signaling you might live to see another day. 

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

i should probably put a link to previous parts at the top but i have no clue how to do that lol

tags: @emmyrosee​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @willyourecognisemee​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass​

[mst3kproject]

Tobor the Great

This was a movie YouTube thought I ought to watch. It’s so bad even Leonard Maltin didn’t like it.

Two scientists, Dr. Harrison and Dr. Nordstrom, are concerned about the effects of space travel on the human body, and so they attempt to convince the Civil Interplanetary Flight Commission (think NASA, but with funding) to use an alternative form of test pilot.  No, sit down, dog- and monkey-lovers in the audience, I’m talking about a huge, unwieldy, unnecessarily humanoid robot!  Obviously, foreign agents want to steal this machine and turn it into a huge, unwieldy weapon instead of a huge, unwieldy astronaut, but Nordstrom’s grandson Brian saves the day using his special telepathic link with Tobor!

The movie does not believe we’re smart enough to figure out why the robot’s name is Tobor.  It spells it out for us, literally and on more than one occasion.

Tobor the Great is a children’s movie – the main character is eleven-year-old Brian, who is mostly addressed by his nickname, Gadget or Gadge.  He’s established as an engineering genius in his own right, who gets to hang around in his grandfather’s lab and make friends with this cool robot.  He’s what every white American boy in the 50’s was supposed to want to be.  All of which makes it sort of weird that we don’t meet him until nearly fifteen minutes into the movie.

Consider some better children’s movies.  In Coco, Miguel is the literal as well as the metaphorical narrator – we begin with his voice telling us the backstory.  Lilo and Stitch gives us one title character almost immediately, and then brings in the second as quickly as it can to get us to the point where they meet.  Of course, you don’t have to introduce the main character first in a movie, but if you’re going to put it off you have to do it skillfully.  Star Wars takes its time getting around to Luke Skywalker, but it’s already given us somebody to follow in the form of C-3P0 and R2-D2, who make good audience proxies because 3P0 doesn’t know what’s going on any more than we do.  Tobor the Great lets nearly a quarter of its running time go by before we finally meet Gadge, and even more before we get to Tobor himself, and that time is spent setting up what seems to be a rather different movie.

The opening does establish the need for Tobor, but it takes way too long about it.  We start with narration and stock footage about the American space program, which is as deathly boring as it always is in these movies. Maybe it seemed more exciting in the fifties, when space rockets were the coolest thing around.  Then we get into Dr. Harrison and his complaints about unsafe practices, which lead to his resignation and to him trying to dodge the press before meeting the likeminded Dr. Nordstrom.

These seem like strange things to put in a children’s movie. I feel that a lot more time is spent justifying the need for a robotic astronaut than is really necessary, and the early close focus on Dr. Harrison makes it seem like he’s going to be our main character – but he fades into the background once we get to Dr. Nordstrom’s lab and at the end he’s not much more than a completely unnecessary love interest for Gadge’s widowed mother.  In Star Wars the two droids stick around and participate in the plot for the whole movie – Dr. Harrison doesn’t.  The politicking within the CIFC is not something children are likely to be interested in, nor is the nagging newspaper man, and all of these scenes are just guys in suits talking.  Very little actually happens and none of it involves robots carrying off beautiful women like the poster shows us!

The annoying reporter is a particularly odd inclusion. His name is Mr. Gilligan, which Joel and the ‘bots would have found hilarious.  I went into Tobor the Great totally blind, having never heard of it when the thumbnail appeared in my YouTube recommendations, but if I’d read a plot summary or something beforehand, maybe I wouldn’t have expected Gilligan to play a major role in the plot.  As it was, I figured he was either a Soviet spy or would unintentionally pass information on to them – but he vanishes after the first press conference, and the question of whether he has the right to compromise national security in the name of selling newspapers is never dealt with.  Instead the spies are a bunch of guys we’ve never seen before.

Once all this is over with, though, we do finally get to see Tobor strut his stuff.  Nordstrom and Harrison work on programming him to do things like type reports to be sent back to Earth and dodge meteor showers (as all 50’s space rockets had to do), while Gadge sits and watches… and does very little else.  You’d think this part of the movie would continue the thread of Gadge being the equal of the adult scientists, maybe overlapping with him and Tobor bonding, but there’s almost none of either.  Why set up Gadge as a prodigy if you’re not going to make use of it?  At the climax we expect Gadge to save the day by figuring something out, as he showed he could do earlier.  Instead he just shuts his eyes and thinks really hard at Tobor, like Ichi trying to summon Gamera. It works, but it’s not as satisfying as it could have been.  At the end the movie has neatly avoided almost all of its potential and anything that might have been cool to watch, and failed to give us anything it seemed to promise.

To make things even worse, Gadge is played by one of those insanely cloying 50’s child actors who say things like “oh, gosh!” and “gee whillikers!”  I cannot imagine anybody actually talking like this.  Actor Billy Chaplin sure makes it sound fake as hell.  While Chaplin is a decent actor physically, everything he says sounds stilted and unnatural, like he’s reading it off notes while trying to project his voice to a full auditorium.  The adult actors are much better, which just makes Chaplin look all the worse by comparison.

Tobor, on the other hand, is wonderful, in the ‘stupid cardboard movie robot’ way that makes Torg from Santa Claus Conquers the Martians and the delightfully awful robot of Devil Girl from Mars so much fun.  It’s got lots of blinky lights and moving parts, and stamps around with a pretty convincing sense of weight.  Unlike some movie robots it actually moves at a good clip when it wants to, perhaps helped by the fact that it has working knees.  The movie makes the point that Tobor is a large and dangerous piece of kit at the same time as it’s able to be gentle and dexterous, which reinforces the idea that it would be frightening as a weapon.

My favourite part is when Tobor drives a car.  I wonder if the guy in the costume could see anything. That must have been a hell of a day on set.

What you want me to get back to, though, is the bit where the robot is psychic.  Yes, that’s actually the premise of this movie, a telepathic robot!  I’m not sure how plausible that would have seemed in the 50’s, even in such an explicitly silly movie.  Dr. Nordstrom doesn’t expect the reporters to believe in it without a demonstration, and yet the same decade also produced films like The She-Creature that present such ideas with an entirely straight, albeit incompetent, face.  Psychic powers as hard-ish sci-fi seems to have gone out of style by the 90’s, and nowadays it sounds like something you’d see in the Weekly World News.

Man, I miss the hard copy Weekly World News.  It was so nice to have that little isle of humour in the sea of garbage that was (and still is) the supermarket tabloids.  Remember Hilary Clinton’s space-alien lover?  Classic.

The function of telepathy in this story is not just to give Gadge a way to summon the robot after the spies break Nordstrom’s control mechanism.  It is also a means whereby Tobor may acquire human traits and emotions.  How to make a robot feel things is a perennial problem in science fiction… a lot of the time the mechanism is simply glossed over, as an artificial intelligence becomes more human by interacting with humans. Emotions are just chemicals in our brains, though, and the more we learn about how they work, the harder it gets to justify a machine feeling them.  In Star Trek: the Next Generation Data and Lore have a special bit of hardware that must be installed to enable emotions, and really seem like they’re better off without it. In Saturn 3, Hector has a processor made of cloned brain cells that can produce their own chemistry, as well as a direct neural uplink to its programmer.

As such solutions go, I actually kind of like how Tobor the Great goes about it, even if the mechanism is silly.  Rather than having emotions of its own, Tobor senses and mirrors those of the humans around it.  When Gadge is panicking, worrying that Tobor is out of control, Tobor panics and goes around smashing things, thus making for a self-fulfilling prophecy. When Gadge thinks of Tobor as a hero, the robot comes to his rescue, carrying him to safety like a rescued princess, and responds to the anger and rage of the spies by turning these emotions back on them and beating them up.  This is quite different from many ‘emotional machine’ stories, in that it doesn’t actually require Tobor to be in any way self-aware.

Unfortunately the movie is not very consistent about this. There’s a scene in which Tobor gets frustrated and breaks stuff after being put through too challenging a simulation, which does imply that the robot has an intelligence and emotional capacity of its own.  This bit has a purpose, as it serves to make us worry that Tobor will be unable to tell the difference between friend and foe at the finale, but it just doesn’t fit with the way this machine is treated in the rest of the movie.

Like many others both from MST3K and from the Episodes that Never Were, Tobor the Great has a couple of good ideas at its core.  It even predicted how much easier and safer it is to send robots into space than people, although those robots don’t look much like the lumbering humanoids of 50’s sci-fi. Sadly, the film is uneven, rushed, and poorly-acted, and nothing particularly fun or exciting happens in it. Various people over the years have seen its potential and Tobor has starred in a couple of comic books and an unproduced TV pilot, but these never went anywhere either.

[remys-lucky-franc]

Tick, Tick, Tick...  A Queen of Thieves Fic - Jett x MC (Daisy)

This fic is to fulfil a request sent to my friend by @simpsonjenna1 - the request was for a route that @wrath-gutierrez hadn't read, so I've picked it up instead :)  

The last chapter of Jett's route left off when he and MC were interrupted during an intimate moment by a bunch of masked intruders.  Jett, was unable to stop them kidnapping his girl as he was cuffed to the bed.  Oh and also, there's a bomb ticking somewhere in the penthouse!!  Eek!!

The request was:  CAN YOU WRITE A FIC OF WHAT HAPPENS NEXT WHEN JETT AND THE POPPY TRY TO RESCUE MC?  AND SHE ENDS UP IN A COMA AFTER BEING TORTURED BY THE KIDNAPPERS?

I've changed one part of your request a little and I really hope that's ok, but this plot lent itself to it...  Also, it's slightly canon-divergent, as I have the rest of the Poppy still in Hong Kong, rather than having headed onto Barcelona already.  I hope you (and anyone else reading!) enjoy this!  I've never actually written for Jett before, so fingers crossed I've did him justice!  I've used my MC's name when I wrote it, but let me know if you'd like to read it with a different name and I'll edit it in for you :)

Rating: probably mature due to bad language and mild sex references - nothing very explicit.  There's obviously an element of fear and terror you'd expect when someone's been kidnapped, so please keep that in mind if you think it would adversely affect you.  It got a bit long AF at ~6000 words - oops!

Jett roars after the shadowy figures that bodily lift her up and carry her like a ragdoll out of his bedroom,

"NOOOOOO!!!   YOU BASTARDS!!!  DAISY!!!  DAISY!!!"  

He thrashes against the cuffs, arching his back, kicking wildly as his swinging bed rocks back and forth uncontrollably.  He's in a cold sweat, a panic has risen in his chest from the realisation that there is literally nothing that he can do to stop what's happening...  

Tick, tick, tick...

He looks around, frantic:  the key is somewhere on the floor, somewhere he can't reach because of these bloody cuffs...  Is there anything he could use to pick the lock on them?  Anything on the bed, anything that he could reach with his feet even...??  Desperation sets in as he realises one of the men is standing in the doorway holding a mobile phone...  

Jett eyes widen like saucers as he screams until his throat hurts as the man dramatically directs his finger towards a button on the phone.  Jett feels like his heart is stopping as the martyr makes contact with the button: he braces himself for the explosion that'll end it all, one person on his mind.  

'What will happen to Daisy...?  Will the Poppy ever find her?'  

But nothing comes. There's no searing heat, no blinding light, no ear-splitting shatter of glass and tearing of plaster or brick...  Nothing.  Nothing at all.  Except a callous snort as the masked man standing there watching Jett's confusion unfurl across his face as he realises the ticking noise has stopped...  

"You son of a bitch!!  Sound effects?!"

The man in black turns on his heel and walks out of the room, leaving a naked Jett bucking and straining against the cuffs, despite knowing his best attempts are futile.  As he and Daisy had stumbled to his room in a tangle of limbs, their jackets and phones had been discarded in the common room...  There's no way of alerting the gang...  There's no other option than to lie here waiting for them to return...      

---

Daisy feels her stomach lurch and her head throbs as the room spins, struggling to open her blurry eyes, suddenly she jolts upright, her last memories flooding back to her.  The bomb...  And Jett's horrified face, arms pinned tightly above his head, crying out her name as she struggled to get free of her captors before they forced that handkerchief over her nose.  She looks down at her tightly-bound hands:  her usually pretty polished nails are chipped and broken from trying to wrench it away before that sweet, cloying smell filled her nostrils and everything faded to black, her arms becoming to heavy to keep resisting...  Sucking in a deep, shaky breath she scans her surroundings, trying to clear her head:  

'I need to get the fuck out of here, and fast!'  

It's a non-descript room, rectangular:  maybe  15 feet long by 10 feet wide?  She's sitting on a single mattress.  There are vertical blinds on a small window - closed of course.  There's nothing else distinct about the room: ceiling tiles, a dark tattered-looking carpet, plain walls. Nothing to give her a clue as to her whereabouts...  She can't get to the window to see if she can pinpoint any sights because her ankles are also bound.  

Shifting back against the wall, Daisy drops her head onto her knees.  Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the thoughts racing through her mind,

'Where am I?'   'Why did they bring me here?' 'Where is Jett???' 'Did they bring him here too, or did they leave him?' 'If they left him, did he get away before the bomb...?'

She feels herself get lightheaded as she begins to hyperventilate, anxiety crashing over her like a wave, sucking her downwards, suffocating her...

'What if he's dead???' 'Fuckkkkk what do they want??' 'What are they planning on to do to me??'

Daisy struggles against the ropes binding her wrists rigidly.  Her skin burns below the fibres as she desperately tries to shift them, to no avail.

'Surely they brought us both?  He must be worth more to them than I am?'

She shouts,

"Jett!!  Jett??  Can you hear me??  Jett!!"

No response comes and Daisy sighs, sounding defeated.  She huddles herself together for comfort realising she's all alone, until she hears it.  The sound of footsteps outside of the room, slow and measured, like a jailer walking through the hallway beyond her cell...  Suddenly Daisy seriously begins to regret her decision to yell for Jett...

---

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, an exhausted Jett hears the key turn in the front door of the penthouse, the jovial sound of Remy's laughter peals through the corridor.  Jett starts to shout,

"REMY!!  REMY!!  HELP!!  IN HERE!!"  

Within moments, the door bursts open and Remy lays eyes on a Jett, bound to the bed, naked save for a tangled sheet he's managed to strategically kick over his waist.  He's closely followed by Leon whose eyes almost pop out of his head at the site of his friend's predicament.  Remy races towards Jett,

"Mon ami!  What has happened?!  Are you ok??"

Jett sounds delirious as he shouts,

"I'm fine - never bloody mind me!!  They've taken her!  They broke in, they took her!  They tricked me into believing there was a bomb, and they've kidnapped Daisy!  The key, Remy!!  The key is on the floor, get me out of these fucking cuffs!  We need to find her!!"  

Remy scrambles around on the floor searching for the key, kicked under the bed as Daisy resisted her captors, while  Leon is already on the phone to Nikolai, alerting the rest of the group,

"Yes Nikolai, she's gone...  They've taken Daisy.  Jett's fine, just shaken up:  they stripped him and cuffed him to the bed..."  

Remy stops his search, looking up at Leon from the floor, a smirk spreading across his face,  

"Leon...  Mon couer, please, never change..."  

Leon stops in his tracks, silent, eyes flitting between Remy and Jett, his cheeks colouring vividly as he suddenly realises that it would indeed have been quite strange and unorthodox for the intruders to leave the Poppy's resident explosives expert in such a compromising position...  

Jett clears his throat, muttering,

"Jesus, Remy, hurry up will you?"  

Remy locates the key and releases Jett, who quickly springs to his feet, pulling on a pair of pants.  Remy pats Leon's shoulder twice, nodding to the phone,

"May I?"  

Leon bobs his head as though to say, 'All yours!'.  Remy takes the handset and quickly fills Nikolai in on what he and Leon came home to find, and what Jett's told them.

Jett's pacing like a big cat stalking it's prey while Leon looks around the room, recapping every detail he can remember as they search for any clues as to who could possibly have taken Daisy.  

---

A feeling of intense dread bubbles in the pit of Daisy's stomach as a key turns over in the lock.  She's shaking as a masked man appears in the doorframe, learning against the wood, head tipped to the side, watching her silently, curious.  She curses at him, trying to look brave and ballsy, but as he starts to approach she wants to disappear, she can feel herself shrinking into the wall despite herself, despite her best efforts.  She's vulnerable and she's helpless...  She can't defend herself no matter what he wants to do to her...  Her pulse thunders inside her ears as a myriad of possibilities whizz through her head - is he going to beat her, or assault her?  She feels sick at the thought...  Will he kills her?  What if this is it?  What if this is how she dies?  Scared and alone in some grubby room?  What if no one ever finds her...  He's closing in on her, he's right at the edge of the bed and there's nothing she can do...  Abruptly Daisy makes a noise like a strangled animal before spitting directly into his eye!  On instinct, the act jolts him as he makes a disgusted noise and mutters,

"Jesus Christ!!"  

As he wipes the saliva away with his sleeved forearm Daisy's jaw drops.  

'That voice.  I know that voice...  I.  KNOW.  THAT. VOICE.'

Daisy feels like her heart may leap free from her chest as she chokes on the whisper,

"Geoff?'  

Her masked captor starts away from her. Knowing that she's onto something she shouts louder,

"Geoff?!  You bastard?!  That is you, isn't it?!"

Another masked man, slightly shorter, of a more muscular build appears in the room, muttering,

"Jesus Geoff! I thought the whole point of the masks was so that she didn't work out who we were??"  

Geoff snaps at the mystery man,

"Great work!!  You've just confirmed to her that it actually is me!!"  

He pulls the mask off his face and tosses it onto the bed beside Daisy and gives her a slightly bashful lopsided smile,

"Hey."

Daisy's dark eyebrows knit together as she glares at him,

"Hey??  HEY??  What did you do Geoff?!  Where is Jett??  The bomb?!  You retired?!  You were going to Majorca with your dream man?!"

Geoff reaches out to touch her arm gently but she thrashes away from him,

"Don't you dare touch me!!"

Geoff sighs, as though today has been a massive chore and he's regretting not just taking his retirement...  

"I'm not going to hurt you, Daisy.  Not if you promise to be a good girl.  I'll even untie you.  I'll explain everything, but any shit, any shit AT ALL, and the restraints go back on, ok?  I mean it,  so don't try anything clever."

Daisy reluctantly agrees, and as Geoff releases her ankles she scowls at him in disgust.  She's deep inside her own head,

'Who knew Geoff had this in him?  He's so handsome, so fun, so friendly?!'

She turns to stare Geoff down, her big dark eyes burning into him,

"Where's Jamie then?  I'm guessing he's in on this too?"

Geoff shakes his head slowly,

"No, actually.  I was planning to cut him in on the idea, but the soft git only went and fell in love with you...  There's no way he'd ever have agreed to this ...  This heist is all mine."  

Daisy shakes her head, visibly shocked,

"But...  I-I thought we were friends, Geoff?  How could you do this to me?  To Jett?"

Shrugging as he speaks, Geoff offers,

"It's nothing personal, darling.  This is just business..."

Daisy chokes out a harsh-sounding, hollow laugh, as she scowls at him,

"Yeah, nothing personal, Geoff.  Where is Jett?  Did you bring him here too??  Please, please, Geoff, I need to know you didn't leave him in the penthouse with that time-bomb??"

Geoff chuckles heartily, like The J-Team are trading anecdotes over a drink,

"Oh, please!  Girl, I don't fuck with explosives..."

Whipping his phone from his pocket, Geoff presses a button and the 'TICK, TICK, TICK' sound echoes around the bare room.  

Daisy balls her fists wishing she could lash out and wipe that smile off Geoff's stupid face!!!

"YOU TOTAL BASTARD!!"  

Geoff rolls his eyes theatrically,

"Oh come one.  It was a good distraction, love.  You have to give me that...?"

Daisy's voice starts to crack with relief that Jett hasn't been blown to kingdom come,

"So you just, left him there?"

Geoff smirks ,

"Yeah...  I'd hired a couple of reinforcements, because I was under the impression that we'd need to overpower you both...  Little did I that you'd have did half of the work for me already by the time we arrived, you naughty girl..."

Geoff winks at Daisy and she feels a blush flood her neck and cheeks as she thinks about the intimate position that she and Jett were so rudely interrupted in...  Geoff wiggles his eyebrows at her,

"You never know what goes on behind closed doors, huh Daisy?  Anyway, your man is fine.  He's exactly where you left him."  

Daisy shakes her head angrily,

"Not cool Geoff.  Really, seriously uncool."

Daisy can't decide if she's more relived about Jett being ok, or more pissed off about the situation in general, and Geoff continues as though she never spoke,  

"Anyway.  You just need to stay here with us for a few days until your beloved Gilded Poppy agree to our demands, Then we'll get you home and you can pick back up where you left off with lover-boy...  K?"

Daisy's spitting feathers,

"What demands are you making exactly??  How long have you been planning this you asshole??"

Geoff pouts,

"Only their art collection.  I've been high-key pissed at your boyfriend and his cronies ever since he ditched The J-Team and they double-crossed us...  I just never saw an opportunity to do anything about it, until now..."

Daisy can't stop her jaw dropping at Geoff's confession,

"What?!  I thought it was Jamie who held the grudge??  Why agree to do the Bank Job with us??"

Geoff shrugs, looking somewhat bored,

"The Bank Job was Jamie's gig.  And it got us enough cash to set up in Spain permanently...  But God knows, I've wanted to get back at him for a long time...  And the rest of that bloody Poppy..."

The man still wearing the mask clears his throat, sounding very nervous,

"Uh, Geoff, you're telling her an awful lot..."

Geoff scoffs,

"Steven, babe, it's not like the Gilded Poppy won't work it out...  Anyway, moving on from all this chatter...  Daisy, are you hungry, do you want something to drink?"

Daisy nods hesitantly: her throat feels like sandpaper...  Steven scuttles off to get supplies as Geoff moves closer to smooth a stray lock of hair away from her face, making her flinch.  He sighs,

"Daisy, I have no intentions of hurting you, but you need to play nice, ok?  You're much more valuable to me, alive.  Listen I'm going to untie you, but then I need to go.  Stevie will be back with food and water soon, ok?  I'll come back to check on you later, so just sit pretty for now.  Be good and this will all be over before you know it."

Forcing a tight smile, Daisy inhales deeply as Geoff set her hands free.  Deep red welts stand out on her wrists from where she's struggled against the ropes, her skin angry and bruised...  She grunts a goodbye at Geoff.  He gives her an almost apologetic smile as he exits, locking her in the room behind him.  Geoff's no sooner out of the room than Daisy's on her feet looking for anything to identify where she is and any escape routes she can find.  Quickly establishing she's on the first floor of the building, Daisy groans, noticing the grills on the windows that'll stop her being able to climb to freedom.  She can see the skyscrapers of Hong Kong's skyline in the distance.  It looks like they're in some sort of disused business park on the outskirts of the city; she can see warehousing, empty parking bays, and small office blocks.  The common areas look overgrown and unkempt, and there's not another person in sight as far as the eye can see.  Realising there's no way out of the room, except for through the locked door, Daisy decides that she will need to somehow overpower Steven when he comes back with food, or Geoff when he returns later, then run like her life depends on it.

---

Steven took around an hour to return with a bottle of water and ramen noodle pot, but it felt like much longer than that...  Daisy nods, accepting the bowl.  She's been reading his body language since before he left the room earlier...  And she's sure that he's nervous...  He isn’t a criminal... She doesn't even believe that he's ever committed an offence before, much less kidnapped someone and held them hostage...  Smoothing her rumpled white sundress over her knees sitting on the mattress, she hugs them close to her, her breathing erratic as fat tears roll down her face, ruining her makeup - she's doing everything she can to make herself look small and vulnerable.  It seems like Steven's in over his head here, and if she gets him flustered, he might make mistakes that Geoff wouldn't make...  

Daisy's hunch is correct - she manages to make Steven feel so uncomfortable that he will barely look at her and can't wait to get back out of her 'cell', meaning she manages to pocket the fork he'd given her to eat her noodles with, from right under his nose without him noticing.  Daisy stops sobbing the instant he leaves the room, one eyebrow arching as she smiles to herself,

'Now I have a weapon...  I just need to bide my time...'

---

At Gilded Poppy HQ,  Jett's pacing the floor, cursing and making threats about what he'll do when he finds the kidnappers, while Leon and Vivienne try to talk him down, calm him and turn his ranting into something more constructive.  Remy's out meeting underworld contacts in an attempt to glean any information about the break in  or the possible location of one Poppy member...  Nikolai is in his bedroom, pacing across the room, stopping frequently to scribble notes and add detail to diagrams trying to establish how the intruders got into the Poppy's HQ to begin with, muttering to himself all the while.  Zoe is also holed up in her bedroom, scanning CCTV footage from all of the cameras in the three blocks surrounding the penthouse...  So far, she's managed to pick up the black vehicle and track it to the edge of the city, but then the trail goes cold, probably due to the lack of video surveillance in rural areas...  She's hacked the police database of vehicle registrations, but it's clear they've been smart enough to run on false plates...  Again, a dead end.  As the hours pass, it'll become increasingly difficult to locate Daisy if the kidnappers are still on the move...

Several hours later, there is finally some progress.  

"Nikolai!!  Nikolai!!  They've made contact!!"

Jett is waving his mobile phone frantically as he bursts into the Thief Lord's bedroom.  Nikolai calls for Zoe and they review the text message that has arrived from an unknown number, advising that Daisy will be handed over safe and sound if their demands are met.  Nikolai curses, his piercing blue eyes meeting Jett's,

"They are relieving us of our art collection, in exchange for Daisy."

Jett makes a face as he sucks in a deep breath, when Zoe shakes her head as she hands Jett's phoned back to him,

"They aren't amateurs...  That message came from a burner.  And it's already gone. Off the grid..."

He mutters,

"Damn it.  Nikolai, what are you thinking?  We need to get her back, mate??  Please..."

Nikolai tuts as he shakes his head looking exasperated,

"Daisy is a member of the Gilded Poppy.  OF COURSE we're getting her back.  But there's absolutely no way these degenerates are going to fleece us out of hard-earned and much-deserved art collection..."  

Jett quirks an eyebrow, Nikolai has that confident glint in his eye:  the same one that he has whenever he's masterminded some of their most impossible heists,

"What do you suggest?"

Nikolai moves towards the door,

"Come on, let's all go through this together."

Minutes later, Nikolai sips tea from his ornate glass mug, leaning back in his chair, running his fingers through Elizabeth's dense fur like a Bond Villain as he grins at the rest of the Gilded Poppy,

"We meet their demands and conduct the hand-off on Friday night.  The art in exchange for Daisy."

Remy shifts his feet, glancing at Vivienne who looks a little surprised,

"Nikolai, I didn't expect you just to fulfil their request, darling?"

A wicked smile adorns Nikolai's pale features,

"We will fulfil their request, dearest Vivienne...  But our 'friends' won't be keeping the art collection...  First we rescue Daisy, then we rescue our collection..."  

Remy punches the air, wrapping his free arm around Jett,

"Let's bring our Daisy home, mon ami!"  

---

She's been waiting for what's felt like an eternity, patiently.  She's spent her time, working on controlling her breathing, clearing her mind, steadying her nerves...  Getting up the gall to pull off her own escape.  No Gilded Poppy, no explosives, no master plan, no comms, no getaway car...  Only herself to rely on...  It's a sobering thought, that's for certain.  Daisy's heart leaps into her throat as she hears the lock begin to turn over in the barrel...  She's sitting on the edge of the mattress, fork tucked into her hand, concealed by her forearm...  As Geoff enters the room, Daisy fakes a small smile at him and stands, moving towards him, looking up at him innocently from under dark lashes, she mumbles,

"You know Geoff, I just want this to be over.  I won't give you any trouble."

Geoff looks surprised as he quirks an eyebrow at her,

"That's...  Good.  I'm glad, Daisy.  I like you a lot.  If we can keep this as amicable as possible, I'd be really happy about that."  

Daisy takes another couple of steps closer, doe eyes staring up at him, charming him, disarming him, flattering his ego...

"You know, I've had a lot of time to think about it while I've been sitting here, Geoff.  This is a pretty clever heist.  Ambitious.  The J-Team underestimated you.  You should have been in charge of the planning, your vision could have made them legendary, instead of Jamie...  Only interested in the routine of a bank job, never anything outside the box...  I didn't know you had this side to you..."

Geoff beams at Daisy, a genuine an bright smile lights up his handsome face as he laps up the attention and the compliments, stepping closer as he starts to enthuse about how Jamie and Jock never truly valued his input...  He's caught up in the moment as Daisy shifts position, moving herself from being directly opposite the door, to a ninety degree angle, putting her on level footing to the exit, distance-wise...  And with the element of surprise, she stands a damn good chance...  He's becoming increasing animated as Daisy decides that now is the time to put her plan into motion.  Rapidly she jerks the fork into the air and slams it down with all of her might into Geoff's arm before he has time to realise what she's doing!  He lets out a roar of surprise, but she's already out of the door, running through the dingy, deserted corridors, never stopping to look back!  She can hear Geoff yelling for Steven and she barrels past him as he emerges from a room to her right!  She can see the glass double front doors of the office block, leading outside to a carpark and concrete jungle, they're ajar!  She can't believe her luck!  She psyches herself for the inevitable game of hide and seek she'll have to play with her captors as she reaches the top of the staircase.  Steven's racing behind her and he's making ground...  Her feet are like lightning as she takes the staircase as quickly as she can - freedom is just within her reach!  She's made it!  She's done!  Until on the bottom step, the high heel of her sandal catches on the loose carpet, twisting wildly as she tries to catch her balance, and lands awkwardly, whacking the back of her head hard on the handrail she was grabbing for.

Steven stands at the top of the stairs shell-shocked, releasing a sharp cry of 'Fuckkkkkk!' as he hears the dull thud of Daisy's head against the rail and watches her limp frame collapse onto the floor of the disused reception area, a tangle of limbs and dark curls.  Geoff catches up to him, still clutching at the fork wound, stopping dead in his tracks for a moment, staring at the scene unfolded on the ground level,

"Shit!!!"

He tears down the flight of stairs to the bottom as Steven remains as still as a statue, his hands clutching his temples, hyperventilating as he screams at Geoff,

"Is she dead?!  Oh my God!!!  Is she dead, Geoff?!  What the fuck are we going to do?!  I didn't sign up for this?!  They'll say it was deliberate - they'll say I pushed her!!  I can't go to jail for killing a girl, oh my God!!  What are we going to do?!"

Geoff's on the floor beside Daisy, his fingers probing the side of her neck, cursing under his breath,

"You stupid, stupid girl!  I told you no one was going to hurt you, why did you have to pull a  stunt like this?!"

He lifts his head to yell to Steven,

"She's alive, she has a good pulse!  She's knocked herself out."  

Geoff slides one hand under Daisy's head to try to shift her into a less awkward pose, the colour draining from his face, as he retracts his hand to looks at the warm, wet substance covering it,

"Oh fukkkkkk...  This wasn't supposed to go down like this!! Steven, get the keys!!  Help me get her in the car!!"  

Steven's eyes widen as he looks at Geoff,

"The car??"

Geoff shakes his head, incredulous, "I'm not going to let her die, Steven!!  I'm a bloody thief, not a monster:  I do not want a dead body on my hands!!  We need to get her to a hospital:  keys, masks, now!!

---

"HEY!!  HEY!!!  GET BACK HERE, YOU COWARD!!!"  

The tall, blonde paramedic screams after the rapidly retreating black saloon car that's just off-loaded a semi-unconscious young woman in a blood-smeared white sundress onto the ground in front of the main hospital doors.  He rushes to crouch by her side, she groaning and trying to curl into a ball as he scoops her into his strong arms, with one final look of disgust in the direction the car went, he speaks softly, heading purposely through the automatic doors.

"You're ok sweetie, I've got you, you're going to be ok."

---

Steven paces back and forth, agitation showing on his face as stares at Geoff,

"What do we do?  What if she doesn't pull through, Geoff?  It's all been for nothing.  Nothing!!  We've lost the art collection...  Your revenge...  Our new life in Majorca..."

Geoff rakes his fingers back through his glossy hair as he watches Steven,

"Unless...  Unless we move up the handover..."

Steven stops dead, bewilderment marring his features,

"What do you mean 'move up the handover'?  We don't have what they want us to handover any more?!"

Geoff stands taller, captivated by his own idea,

"No, no, no...  They want her back, and we'll take them to her, they still get the girl in exchange for the collection.  My revenge is complete, we still get to go off and live our best lives in Majorca, love...  We'll send another message to the Poppy, the handover has to be tonight.  We can't wait ‘til Friday, if she dies, the whole jig is up..."

---

When the message pinged onto Jett's phone from yet another burner phone, the Poppy went into overdrive coordinating their double rescue bid.  They have gone from having two days to arrange their attack, to merely a few hours.  

Jett swallows uneasily as Remy pats his hand, trying to calm his nerves,

"Why are they pulling the exchange in, Remy?  There must be a reason.  I don't like this, mate...  Not one bit."

Remy scoffs, trying to lighten the mood,

"If Daisy's being difficult, they probably just want this to be over.  You know how she gets when she isn't pleased...."

Remy tries to lighten the mood by pulling his best scowl and adopting an American accent, impersonating his dear friend,

"The Gilded Poppy will find you and kick your damn ass, you bastards!!"

Jett lets out a half-laugh, that catches in his throat and turns into a sob.  Remy wraps one arm around his shoulder,

"Mon ami, come!  She will be ok, we will see our Daisy again soon..."

Jett shudders, scrubbing his face with his balled fisted,  amber eyes glistening with unspilled tears,

"She was so scared Remy.  I've never seen her look like that...  And there wasn't a single thing I could do.  They just...  Took her.  What if I never see her again?  I-I love her, and I never told her..."

Remy's face softens as he pulls Jett closer to hug him properly, patting his back soothingly,

"Alors...  You can tell her when she comes home."  

---

As agreed, Steven send a message with the location of the meet, thirty minutes prior to the handover time, detailing the location as the Kwong Wah Hospital carpark.  He and Geoff wait in the vehicle, until they see the headlights on a muscle car flash twice at them.  They get out of the car, and walk towards the Gilded Poppy who have also exited their vehicle.  As the factions approach each other, Jett notices Geoff.  The betrayal hits him like a grenade as a rage erupts inside of him he screeches,

"YOU?!?!  Geoff, how could you do this?!?!"

He lunges towards Geoff, only to be pulled back and held firmly by Leon until his blind fury begins to subside, muttering to himself as much as Leon,

"J-Team Geoff...  I can't believe this bullshit...  He was always my favourite..."  

Geoff winks at Nikolai and extends his hand, which Nikolai ignores, staring him down like shit on his shoe.  Nikolai requests crisply,

"The girl?"

Geoff shrugs his shoulders, mimicking Nikolai's haughty tone,

"The art?"

The pair stand there, their stares burning into each other.  Minutes pass with not another word spoken, until Vivienne steps forward, purring,

"Gentlemen, we're not getting anywhere.  You want the collection?  We want our associate.  How can we...  Expedite this process?"    

Geoff's breaks eye contact with Nikolai to stare at Vivienne's slender arm on Nikolai's shoulder, he clears his throat,

"Daisy is here.  Give me the collection and I'll tell you the exact location."

Jett yells, full of vitriol,

"You let us see her, then you get the collection, you wanker!"

Geoff scoffs,

"No can do, Slater.  Put the collection in the car, then you get your little dominatrix back, ok?"  

Leon grips Jett's biceps again to stop him killing Geoff stone-dead, he mutters,

"Let it go, Jett, he's just trying to get a rise out of you..."

Nikolai sighs, a prickly, irritated sound,

"Fine.  It seems like there isn't much option; we appear to have reached an impasse.  Remy, Zoe, please handover the collection?"

Zoe nods her head solemnly,  lifting a small canvas from the car and moving towards Geoff's vehicle.  She glares at a visibly nervous Steven as she places the artwork inside.  Remy moves behind her, doing the same.  Over and over, until the entire art collection from the Gilded Poppy's Hong Kong penthouse lays across the back seat of a black Mercedes.  

Nikolai's voice peals out, commanding in it's tone,

"You have the art.  Now.  The girl."  

Geoff nods,

"A deal is a deal.  She's inside."

Steven scarpers for the car as Jett breaks free of Leon's grip,

"Inside??  What did you do to her?!"

Geoff back towards the car as Jett's fist makes contact with his cheekbone,

"Arrrghhh!  Get off of me, Slater!!  I never touched her!!  We dropped her off her a couple of hours ago after she slipped and hit her head trying to escape!"

Geoff lets out a groan as Jett lands a solid right hook and a swift jab to follow it up before Leon pulls him back.

Leon cracks his knuckles and stretches out his neck as he approaches, looming head and shoulders above the other men and twice as broad,

"Jett, go and find Daisy, leave this piece of shit to me..."

Geoff's eyes bug out as he assesses Leon's stature and bulk,

"Hey!   Hey!  She's fine!!  There's no need for this!!"  

A small smiles tugs at Leon's lips,

"But that's no way to treat a lady, Geoff...  You don't just leave her at A&E...  You wait with her, maybe get her a magazine, a hot chocolate...  It's only polite.  I think you and I should take a little walk and talk about manners..."

Leon's giant arm dwarves Geoff as he grips him firmly, marching him away from the rest of the Poppy.  

Suddenly the black Mercedes roars to life, tyres squealing on the tarmac as Steven tries his best to make a sharp exit.  

Remy rolls his eyes,

"Merde!  Zoe??"

Zoe taps at a few buttons on her tablet, and seconds later confirms with a sly grin,

"Gates are closing... Right...  About... Now..."

A loud bang and the sound of a car horn echoes across the car park.  The black Mercedes has driven straight into the closing electronic gates and Steven looks shell-shocked as he stares back at the Poppy observing him with distain...

Nikolai dusts a particle of imaginary lint from his shoulder and sniffs,

"Zoe we appear to have wasted your time on that GPS tracking...  Remy, Jett, can you load the collection back in Leon's car?"

Jett protests,

"Not a bloody chance, I'm going in there to find Daisy!!"  

Nikolai closes his eyes, letting his head drop backwards for a moment, looking exasperated, before reasoning with the excitable Englishman,

"No you aren't.  Look at your knuckles. No one is going to give you any information about a girl who was dropped off at hospital with a head injury, if you go in there looking like that... "  

Nikolai gestures towards the front of Jett's checked shirt that's covered in blood spatter from the right hook he landed on Geoff.  Reluctantly Jett concedes and watches anxiously as Nikolai and Vivienne enter the hospital to locate his girl...

---

The art is all back in Leon's vehicle, Remy, Jett, Zoe and Leon sit inside, in agitated silence.  Leon's not saying what exactly he did to Geoff, only that the Poppy have acquired a nice five-bedroom villa in Majorca where they can have a couple of weeks of downtime to recover from this fiasco...  Steven's vanished, but Leon's happy to that he's no real threat anyway...  If he has any sense, he’ll get rid of Geoff and find a better boyfriend...  Remy squeezes a worried Jett's knee in the back seat, a gesture of solidarity and a reassurance that Daisy will be fine...  Zoe interrupts the silence as a call comes through and she puts Vivienne on speaker...  

'We posed as her brother and sister-in-law, eventually a young nurse took pity on us...  Daisy was brought in as a Jane Doe by a paramedic when that 'monster' dumped her outside...  She has a nasty head injury, and they had to operate...

Jett almost levitates as he shouts.

"Operate?  WHAT?!"

Vivienne's smooth voice soothes him,

"Jett, darling, it's ok.  They relieved any pressure off her brain and are very happy with how things went.  But..."

Jett's voice is panicked and high as the others sit in stony silence,

"But what???  Bloody tell me Vivienne???"

Vivienne breathes deeply before answering him,

"They put her in a medically-induced coma to let her recover properly. Jett, I'm so sorry."

Jett's hands are over his eyes, he whispers to himself,

"No. No...  No, no, no, no..."

Remy shifts in his seat, unbuttoning his shirt as Zoe raises an eyebrow at him.  He shimmies until he's naked from the waist up, tossing his clothing at Jett,

"Here.  Keep your hands in the pockets.  Go to Daisy, Jett.  Vivienne, he's coming in, ma cherie..."`

Jett's mouth opens and closes a couple of times before he pulls Remy into a bear-hug then jumps out of the car, wrestles his shirt off and throws Remy's clothes on.  He tosses his blood-stained shirt to Remy, who shrugs, then flexes his biceps,

"Non, it's ok, I think Leon and Zoe are enjoying the view..."

Jett snorts a laugh as he takes off towards the doors of the hospital, greeted by Vivienne as he does.  She exclaims, as she leads him swiftly by the arm towards Daisy's room,

"Darling, what took you so long??  Quickly, this way!"

Vivienne smiles gratefully at the young nurse standing by the desk...  

As they enter the room, the mechanical whirr and ping of machines makes Jett's breath catch.  There she is, his Daisy, connected to a dozen tubes and monitors, her dark hair cascading across the pillow over a white dressing.  Dressed in a hospital gown with dried blood on the side of her neck, she looks frail, and so small.  He barges past Nikolai and falls to his knees by the side of the hospital bed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutches her hand in his,

"God, Daisy?"

He turns to Vivienne and Nikolai who stand against the wall,

"Can she hear me?"

Vivienne takes Nikolai's arm as she answers him,

"Yes, she might not remember when she's back with us, but they say that she can hear.  Jett, Nik and I are going to give you some privacy.  Call us if you need us, we'll come straight back."

Jett nods at Vivienne, all his words reserved for the sleeping girl before him,

"Daisy, I'm so sorry.  I'm so, so sorry...  I didn't protect you...  I love you and I..."

Vivienne closes the door behind she and Nikolai, biting her lip as she looks up at him.  He places his hand over hers comfortingly as he leads her back to the car.

---

Three days have passed before the doctors are satisfied that Daisy's injury has had a chance to optimise it's healing process during her sedation, Jett's barely moved from her side.  The other have come and gone in shifts to visit their girl and to bring supplies to Jett while he keeps vigil by her side.  After the sedative IV is removed, he sits by her side, stroking her hand, waiting for what seems like another three days before her fingers twitch against his hand.  He lifts her fingers, pressing soft kisses against them as tear threaten to blind him, praying,

'Come on Daisy, come back to me, please...'  

Doctors rush in as the machines connected to Daisy alert them that she's conscious, they want to check and assess her reactions and reflexes.  Jett stands outside as he waits for them to finish, his eyes locked firmly with Daisy's as he smiles through the glass at her, watching her cheeks flush and her eyes as he touches his heart and mouths,

"I love you."

End <3

[thisartemisnevermisses]

Freefall 5/-

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: angst, fluff, mild smutt, romance, adventure, reconciliation, cursing, anxiety.

Summary:

After the events of ‘Going Under’ you start a new life in Tokyo. Realizing those events changed you in more than one way. You’re not just the nice analyzer girl, you take life in your own hands again. Only to be pulled back into the rabbit whole.

After almost 2 years the Avengers call upon your help. Recapturing the one person that made your life a living hell. Going on a manhunt, or more likely woman hunt, with the one person you hoped to leave behind for good. Will things spark again between the two of you or are you as cold as ice?

A/N: Finally! The backstory is finished and we can sollemnly concentrate on Steve and You! Starting with this chapter! You two finally go on a mission and well lets say, things are heating up!

Chapter 05: Setsuzoku Suru / Connecting

The following days were full of preparations, meetings and arranging things. Tony, Owen, Callie and Lexi were occupied with the digital preparations, making sure your gear was up to date, connected and as invisible as possible.

Wanda and Peter where reading books so they could give you the important information before leaving. Sam and Bucky had whished the both of you good luck, before going on their own mission. Hoping they would find Thor or someone who could make contact with him.

Natasha had taken a plane to Austria, while Avery visited an old friend in Albuquerque. Everyone was occupied with preparing the first part of this mission, trying to think ahead so that every follow-up mission was prepared easily. The fact that all of you knew little to nothing about the Cintamani stone, Shangri-la or Sharon’s plan, made you nervous and on edge. Let alone the fact that false identities was not an option, because Steve was going with you. Going on a mission with Captain America made it impossible to pretend to be someone else.

A mission with Steve, your stomach turned, was it turning or butterflies? How would you cope with your feelings, could you keep them in check. Hopefully everything went as planned, hopefully you didn’t stand out to much seeing you’re with Captain America on a charity event, hopefully you weren’t pushed into some shitty compromised position. Realizing you’re pouring a lot of hope into this mission, makes you chuckle at your own ignorance. Thinking about the things that could happen, let alone the situations that could make things more awkward between the two of you, made your heart race. Continuing packing your bag, a single thought crossed your mind, a cliché when you were on mission, but what if you had to kiss him? What would you do? Could you keep it strictly professional or would you betray yourself? Guess you’d have to wing it, when it happened.

“Do you have everything? Did you check your coms? Have you checked your access to the cloud?” Lexi rambled, while pacing through the room. “Lexi…Lexi…LEXI..Could you shut it!”, you say loud, making the redhead jump and look angry at you. “You kept on rambling about things we’ve already checked trice”, you say looking at her, glaring back.

“Listen, we have everything we need. When we land in Morocco we’ll call grandma over there (you pointing towards Tony) to let her know we had a safe trip. From there, we have radio silence, until we are in the venue”, you explain the first steps of your mission again, seeing Lexi calm down a little.

“Lexi, listen I’ve done this so many times. Technically it’s an extract mission, go in, find the book and get out”, you shrug your shoulders. “Except, that this extract mission has an extra challenge, don’t forget Sharon”, Owen reminds you, putting the last things in your bag.

“Don’t worry Owen, we’re going to make sure, that she doesn’t get the book or see us”, Steve says calm, putting his bag in the quinjet. “You better make sure, she doesn’t get one of you two. And don’t, just don’t pick a fight with each other”, Owen warns, glaring at Steve. “Don’t make such a fuss, we won’t bite each other’s head off, at least until we have the book, okay”, you say playfully, getting an angry look from Owen. “Just make sure, nothing happens, okay?”, Owen ask you. “Can’t guaranty you that”, you smile, giving him a hug, walking in the quinjet, closing the tailgate. “I will keep an eye on her”, Steve reassures Owen, “That’s what I’m afraid off”, Owen replies walking away from the quinjet.

Once the quinjet is up in the air, you settle behind your desk. Looking over to Steve, who’s in the cockpit programming your destination. Ignoring your inner turmoil, you try to focus on your research on the guest list. Looking over names and searching the network for information about them. With every minute you get more aware of the fact that you two are alone. Trying not to let it affect you, but you can’t ignore the feelings stirring inside you. You’ve been apart for 2 years, tried to live your own lives, both of you are visible effected by those two years.

You trying to let the intern scars fade, him chastising himself for hurting you, not trusting you. Wondering if you were childish for hanging on to the pain, your eyes fall upon a name. “Steve, I got something”, watching the tall Avenger come closer, makes your heart beat fast, you were so fucking doomed.

“What is it y/n?”, he says, resting one of his hands on the desk, while the other leans on the back of your seat, making him hover above you. His face dangerously close, startling you when he speaks again, his breath tickling your ear. Snapping out of your trance, you try to compose and find the words in your head. “uuh,..look this name..I’ve seen that name before..”, you point at the screen, when Steve reads the name, his eyes widen. “It can’t be…”, he murmurs, “She’s dead, I’ve buried her”, he whispers to himself. Without hesitation, you lay a hand on his hand for comfort and search his face for an answer. “Steve, I’m right, aren’t I. Ruth Barton, it’s one of Peggy’s old aliases, right?”, watching his reaction, realization in his face turning into a frown, when he figures out it’s Sharon using Peggy’s alias. “She’s there, that’s Sharon”, he points towards the name on the screen, then looking at you.

You’re aware of the closeness of his face, his body, letting out a shacking breath. Glazing at his soft lips, before locking eyes with him, the silence is killing, just as the look Steve’s giving you. He inched closer, slowly closing the distance between you. Molding his soft lips against yours, letting a shaky breath escape his lips, when he breaks away from you. Searching your eyes for any sign, “Steve”, you try warning him, but fail miserably. Crashing his lips into yours with a searing and passionate kiss. When you open your mouth to say something, he feels bold and slips his tongue past your lips, moaning when he feels you melting into him.

Laying one hand in the nap of his neck, while the other fist his dirty blond hair. Desperation and longing in your kiss, wanting nothing more than to feel every inch of each other. Cupping the cheek of your ass, he peppers your neck with kisses. Making his beard tickle your sensitive skin, earning a giggle from you. “I’ve missed you”, he whispers before he captures your lips in another searing kiss. Your mind’s getting foggy from the lack of air or was it the sensation of Steve against you, you pull away.

Breathing heavy, you look silently at each other. Registering the messy hear, bruised lips and dilated eyes of Steve, you can imagine that’s the way you look to. When he hugs you tight, you feel his excitement against your leg, makes you snap out of that warm fuzzy feeling. It felt like the mission with Clint all over again, your mind starting to panic at the memories. Steve feels you stiffen up in his arms and looks at you, realizing what you’re thinking, he loosens his grip on you. “Y/N, I’m..”, he starts, seeing you looking angry at him, “Steve, DON’t..”, walking out of his grasp. “Don’t ever say you’re sorry again or I’ll snap your neck”, you warn him, seeing the hurt on his face, you ask yourself if you’ve went too far. “Look, it happened okay, that’s that. I’m going to go get some sleep, so I can take the nightshift”, you say before laying on the bed with your back towards the room. Its quit in the room for a little while, hearing your breath slow down, he steps towards you, covering you with a blanket.  

“I’m not sorry, I’m just glad it happened. If only you could except that my feelings are still real for you”, he whispers to your back, believing you’re already a sleep, he steps into the cockpit watching the sky, letting his mind wander. At the same time the words Steve spoke, keep repeating in your head. Touching your lips, you scold yourself. You shouldn’t let the things in the past effect you.  

You don’t know for how long Steve has let you sleep, but when you wake up the skies is dark. “You’re awake”, Steve’s voice is hoarse, he tries to stifle a yawn. Looking the tall Avenger over, you notice his tired eyes and ruffles hair. Did he try to sleep in the chair? Why didn’t he wake you up? Getting out of the bed, “For how long did I sleep?”, stretching your body. “Almost 4 hours, it’s 1 in the morning. We will arrive at 5 in Ait Rbaa, their awaiting us there”, Steve answers while rubbing his eyes, yawning again. “Come on soldier, you need some sleep”, patting the bed, “I will take the next shift, get some sleep. I will wake you when we land”, you smile, motioning Steve to come out of the chair. “Okay, okay, I get it. The old man needs to sleep”, he yawns again, laughing about it. Laying himself on the bed, your scent hits his nostrils instantly. It’s almost as if your lying next to him, within seconds he’s asleep.

For the time being you occupy yourself with reading more files, navigating to Ait Rbaa and listening to your own music. When Steve begins to turn in his sleep, you mute the music and hope he will continue sleeping. For a minute it seems to work, but he soon starts to toss and turn, murmuring in his sleep. When his murmuring turn in to shouts, you go to him trying to calm him. “Steve, sss, it’s okay, you’re here, it’s okay”, you caress his hair, hoping it will help. “sss, Steve, stop, it’s okay”, you look at him, the panic in his voice is visible on his face. How could you help him, get him out of his dream. You try to shake him awake, “Steve, wake up, your dreamING!”, you shout hoping to wake him. “Y/N, NO DON’T”, Steve yells, sitting up, searching for something, for you. Noticing you in front of him, he grabs hold of you, hugging you tight, “You’re here, you’re okay”, he whispers hoarse, his eyes still closed, “You’re here”.  

“Steve, I’m here, you’re okay”, you whisper, hugging him back, tightening your grip. Steve cups your cheeks with his hands, resting his forehead on yours, “I dreamed about us, you and I. It was nighttime and we stood on a cliff, one moment you were there, the other gone. I searched for you, I couldn’t find you. It was so dark, so so dark”, he breaths heavy, his eyelids still heavy from sleep. “Steve you need to sleep, I’m here, not going anywhere”, you reassure him, guiding him to lie down.

“I know, I’m not entitled to ask, but..please stay with me”, Steve asks, barely able to look you in the eye, “at least until I’m asleep”, he adds his across his cheeks a pink flush. Eyeing Steve for a moment, trying to figure out if he was messing with you, you decide to shut up your inner voice and give in to your heart. “Scoop over, Rogers, I need some space”, you tease him.

Laying with your back against his chest, he wraps his arms around you. His soft thank you, soon followed by an even breath and light snoring. You smile to yourself, a warm feeling spreading within you. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, wake up, Could you wake us when we arrive in Ait Rbaa or when somethings is happening?”, you ask the AI. “I will, Agent y/l/n”, F.R.I.D.A.Y answers, “Thank you, for that time being please go on autopilot”, you command closing your eyes and try to sleep some more. Subconsciously you curl into him and twist your leg with his own. Letting sleep take you over once more.

“Captain Rogers, Agent y/l/n, we arrive at Ait Rbaa in 20 minutes”, the AI announces waking the both of you. “Thanks”, you reply, rubbing your eyes, trying to stand up. “Just one more minute”, Steve’s sleepy voice asks, “Just one moment staying this way, before we, have to be us again”, he says clearing his throat. “Did you sleep well?”, you ask staring into the distance. “I had a dreamless sleep, thanks to you”, Steve answers, taking your hand, entwining his fingers with yours. “Glad to hear that”, you smile, turning slightly so you can look at him, ignoring the feeling in the pit of your stomach. “I’m going to freshen up”, moving so you can sit up with your back towards Steve, stretching your sore muscles.

Feeling courage taking over him, Steve’s sits behind you, one of his legs on each side of you. Laying a hand on your stomach, while his other keeps entwined with your hand. You feel your heartbeat rising, not knowing if you should give into were you were heading. You lean into his chest, trying to steady your breath. Feeling what this intimate gesture does to you, makes him bolt in his move. Tucking away the lose strains of hair, he kisses the nap of your neck. Feeling you taking in a sharp breath, makes him smile against your exposed flesh. Kissing his way up, towards your cheek, stopping at the corner of your mouth. Feeling him breathing irregular, he brushes his lips against yours, not being able to take the longing you close the distance between the two of you.

Capturing his lips in a kiss, soft, gentle and slow. Moving in sync, slowly, cautiously. Your body overtaken by eccentric panic and rising lust. His hand moving to you jaw, making you turn more towards him, deepening the kiss. Slightly opening your mouth, so he could explore it. Tasting his sweet and earthy taste in your mouth, enjoying every moment of it. His hand traveling from your stomach to your breast, cupping it gentle. His thumb grazing over your nipple, makes you lean in to him. Pressing your ass to his groin. Awakening the lust in both of you. Feeling yourself tremble under his touché, knowing with that you’re in too deep. Too deep, to let this go by and not talk about this if you would continue this. It would make it complicated, before this mission even started. Laying your hand on top of his, stopping him from going any further. You are angry with yourself, knowing what you’re going to do, could set you back in the relationship you’re building. Trying to control the fogginess in your mind, swallowing to ease your dry troath.  

Speaking his name, would ruin the moment, but you had to. “Steve..”, your voice barely above a whisper, “We need to….we need to stop”, you say swallowing hard. Snapping both of you out of the trance you’re in. Laying against his chest, you don’t dare to look at him, not wanting to see the emotions on his face. “We need to focus on the mission”, your chest still rising irregular. “I know..”, he sighs, hugging you once more, before removing himself from the position. Giving you a kiss on your forehead, “We need to talk about this, we can’t….”, Steve starts swallowing the rest of his words. His pupils are still dilated, as were yours if you had to guess. Looking eyes for a moment, you nod at the unspoken words. Walking towards the cockpit, trying to clear his mind before landing.

Staring into the distance for a moment, you try to clear your own mind. With this pace things were getting more complicated by the minute. If only you could focus on the mission and not on the longing for his hands to roam over every part of your body. Clearing your throat, hoping to gain your composure with it, failing miserable with it, you ask the AI to scan the area.  

After the AI signals the area clear, the quinjet is cleared for landing, using its reflectors for stealth. Once the quinjet is on the ground, you take your bag and head outside. Checking the stealth-modus from the quinjet one last time, you start your 20 minute walk. The walk is quiet, Steve and you exchange looks several times, but no one of you speak about the things happened in the quinjet. Breaking silence when you spot the house in the distance.

Checking your environment, before knocking on the door. Waiting for someone to open the door, you feel relieved when a manly figure is opening the door. 

“Hunter, good to see you. Sorry to interrupt your life’s as retired spies”, you smile at the English man, hugging him.

“Good to see you to, smalls”, he smiles back, letting you enter the house. “Bobbi’s in the back?” looking around for the tall blond, not getting a reply from the English man. 

“Hunter, I asked…really Hunter!? He’s just another person, come on Hunter, don’t go all Coulson on me!”, you exclaim seeing Hunter stare at Steve, making him feel awkward and somewhat shy. “oh, sosorry Captain, please do come in”, Hunter stammers. “Thank you, and it’s Steve, please call me Steve”, he replies before entering the house.