#sorry. we're stuck with it being off centre

[ollylotl]

they are friends :^)

[wri0thesley]

hello nat!! zooooming into your inbox to ask abt preadator/prey with gojo or geto (u can pick :3)

i think geto would be so weird about pred/prey

"You barely tried to run." Geto's voice is cool in your ear, his weight on you heavy and forbidding. Your own words get stuck in your throat at the sensation of him atop of you; at the way that one of his hand comes round to curl around your throat, long fingers sliding over the sensitive skin and lingering just a moment too long on your pulse point. Your heart is still beating fast from the adrenaline. "Really. What's the point of the game if you're not going to try?"

Though . . .

You hadn't wanted to run. Not really. Not in your heart of hearts. In the very centre of you, beneath all of that buried shame of abandoning your former classmates to follow Geto, you know that you would do anything for him. And you do not want to run from him. You want to lay down, to show him your belly like a prey animal who knows they are beaten. You want him to devour you, and you do not want to have to play the game for him to do it.

"Really," he murmurs, and he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth in a way that makes a whimper of want die in your throat. "You're quite useless."

"I'm . . . sorry--"

"Sorry doesn't make up for the wasted time," he says, and you can sense the curve of his smile, sharp like a knife, where it is still pressed against your jaw. His other hand strokes up the side of your body, feather-light, ghosting your hip and your waist and higher. He shifts his weight, the surprising broadness of his chest pressing right against yourshoulderblades, and the breath is fully knocked out of you. "Perhaps I ought to have asked someone else."

"N-no," you wheeze, and Geto gives a mean laugh. You hate that the pitch of it makes you whimper again, pressing your thighs together helplessly. Geto, of course, does not miss it - the hand that had stroked up your body moves, tangling your robes in its long fingers to pull them up to ruck about your hips.

"Pathetic," he half-sneers, half-coos - you always feel that way around him. Mean to you with a saccharine sweet edge that suggests if you ever stopped being so much fun to tease, he'd quickly lose interest. "You're so wet and I didn't even get to do half the things I wanted to."

To illustrate his point, he uses his knee to press your thighs apart - the fabric of his robe rubs against your exposed sex, and you try to protest but you're cut off by two long fingers, spreading you open. You don't wear underwear under your robes. Not any more.

"Oh," he says, faux sweetness dripping from him the same way your slick is dripping from your clenching hole. You whine again, helpless, a squeezed sound as Geto continues to lay upon you so you cannot draw breath. "Oh, how can you even think when you're like this?"

One finger presses into you in the briefest of moments, but it feels like it punches the air from your lungs. All too soon, he is pulling it out again - and you hear the unmistakeable wet sound of him popping it into his mouth, the pleased little 'aah' he makes at the taste of you. Your face burns.

Geto's weight abruptly shifts, and your leader - your God, the man you've promised yourself to heart and soul - stands up, dusting his robes off. He looks down at you with his face impassive, but his eyes are dark and blown wide; they are the eyes of a predator, utterly and completely.

"We're going to try again," he tells you. "And I do mean try. And if you don't try harder this time, darling . . . perhaps we'll let some of my curses play with you too."

He smiles. It is a smile he gives to patrons, to monkeys who give him their money to fund their silly ideas - a smile that suggests he is entirely in control, and you are just a pawn in his game. And so help you - you nod, getting to your feet shakily, trying to ignore the sensitivity between your legs. You take a shaking breath.

"Maybe," he says to you, as he crouches like a tiger about to strike. "The thought of them taking their turn with you first will make you run like you mean it."

[zhivaoverdrive]

Used to be huge, pt8

So I let loose, just a little. Then a bit more. To imagine how giant I'd have to pump my tits to fix it... I can barely describe what it does to me. I started pushing myself, just a little bit more... - Hitomi ---

"It says it right here! It's on her chart!" said Ayu indignantly. The temptation to flip the folder open and wave it in the Boss' face was there, but losing her dream job wasn't really an option, in fact the punishment was probably along a slightly different path.

Ayu found her centre, never an easy task after being let loose on the pumps. "I'm sorry Boss, I followed it to the letter..." she said, carefully this time.

"And what precisely do my notes say, nurse?" the Boss said, taciturn as always.

A trap, obviously, but Ayu began to read.

"Hitomi, 24: Patient dissatisfied with volume of existing implants (note: not my work) after minor weight gain Unknown existing implants replaced with IEC Expander MK III. At Patient's request, performed initial fill to 5,000cc per side to balance breast size with her figure, apropos projection of breasts vs stomach. Will revisit volume/balance questions at follow up" she said.

Fixing her gaze now on Hitomi, the Boss warmed, be it only a drop in the Arctic Ocean. "Hitomi, firstly it is good to see you once again, and I'm glad to see you've found comfort with your new expanders" she said.

"Oh I love them Doc! I feel so free. It's just I gained a tiny bit more weight..." replied Hitomi.

She shifted the new weights on her chest slightly as she looked down, just barely seeing the still visible hemisphere of her bloated gut. Naturally, she'd given her belly the good stuff right before the appointment. She was currently HUGE. Like fucking huge.

It was the big day, had to fill the tank she thought, tracing the path of a fresh stretch mark, as it struggled its way over the horizon of her globular midsection and out of sight. Truth be told, she'd barely made the appointment, waddling in at the last moment. Barely on time, and barely on her feet.

"Which of course is not a problem, we did discuss this possibility. Typically I'd prefer to keep a first fill very limited, both for physical and psychological reasons But if you're happy, then I'm happy" said the Boss, inspecting Hitomi's newly inflated breasts and carefully testing their firmness.

"However we'd best keep you, at least overnight. Purely a precautionary measure, help you get used to your new dimensions" she continued.

Hitomi snuck a glance at Ayu, a part of her felt bad, she'd come in looking ridiculous and then asked for an even more ridiculous solution. She didn't want to get the poor nurse in trouble. But.

"Oh that would be great! My flights long off anyway and it's just..." Hitomi said.

"Please, anything Hitomi. We're here to help" said the Boss, still thawing.

Holding out her hand, Ayu quickly caught the signal and helped Hitomi to her feet. None of those assembled really knew how much new liquid was inside Hitomi at this exact moment, be it medical grade saline pumped into her now gigantic breasts, or the litres of cola bubbling away in her bloated belly. Though the strain on her face made it seem like a lot.

Hitomi steadied herself and stood up, though not quite straight. It was a herculean effort, but through the combination many tiny movements, a thrust of the hips, pulling back her shoulders... She pushed out her belly. It didn't have a square millimetre of space to spare, it weighed a ton, but it moved. She hoped desperately that the Doc couldn't see the process, though she was quite sure Ayu could. Her belly imperceptibly swelled out, protruding quite a way before coming to a halt. She'd been mistaken for pregnant earlier this week, but that was then and this is now. Now there was no ambiguity, her belly stuck out far beyond a standard pregnancy.

"Doc it's just.. well the food is really great here and.. I really would just prefer it if my tits were kind of..." Hitomi said, part working her master plan, part intimidated.

The Doc gazed in silence for a moment, her face a perfect mask of composure. "Yes, I see. The projection is still not what we'd discussed. Please, sit down" she said.

That had come not a moment too soon, but Hitomi hid it well.

"While we're here to accommodate you, but there are physical limitations" the Doc said.

Hitomi felt the urge to cry well-up again. This has been a confusing journey of self discovery, but it couldn't end like this.

"BUT. They can be overcome. Not today, perhaps not tomorrow. But if you're willing to stay here at the IEC with some .. flexibility, it's nothing we haven't done a hundred times before." said the Doc. "If you can move your flight, then move it. I'll just be a moment with Nurse Ayu here". —

Ice cold winds blew across the glaciers. She wasn't happy, most importantly for letting a patient witness that.

"5k for MINOR weight gain, Ayu" hissed the Boss, furious but quiet. "Did you ask what the hell happened to her since?"

"She.. said it was just a bit of a belly, but she's happy if we could..." replied a fearful Ayu.

"More than a bit, hm? We'll get back to that. So you pumped, what 10, 15 litres in the girl? Are you not aware of basic geometry? A sphere expands in all directions Ayu, do you have any idea how much volume will be required to push her out another foot? Of course you don't. You were going to just find out" the Boss said.

"Well. Not your finest work. This was a first fillof a new patient, not one of our whales out back. Check her in, find out how she's getting this fat, and more importantly, don't touch a pump without me in that room! Understand? Now smile and go do it" the Boss said.

As the Boss seethed her way out of the room, Ayu couldn't help but smile. Could be worse. Got away with it. And I get to keep her.

As she skipped back to the stationary Hitomi, Ayu didn't have to force the smile, if anything she toned it down. "Dear, you'll be the death of me. I'll find you a room and-"

"Flights been pushed and my luggage is on the way here" beamed Hitomi.

The two women locked eyes, each seeing the other's mischief.

"I pumped you. A lot. You begged and begged and you loved it, so did I. You're lucky I was rostered aren't you?" smiled Ayu, taking the first step of the dance.

"I'm ever so grateful, I hope you didn't get in too much trouble..." said Hitomi sweetly.

"Stop pushing that thing out, I'm not blind, we overshot it. For a first fill, you know, only I would be so-"

"Oh shoosh, come closer, I owe you and I'll tell you," said Hitomi.

"Why? I thought if gaining a little weight was inevitable, it might as well be now. Then the Doc would even me out. So I let loose, just a little. Then a bit more. To imagine how giant I'd have to pump my tits to fix it... I can barely describe what it does to me. I started pushing myself, just a little bit more..." said Hitomi, her hands absentmindedly massaging her gargantuan stomach.

Ayu knelt down and placed a hand on it too, marvelling at this new fetish she'd just unlocked.

"Pushed pretty hard girl. But put a whole lake of saline in you" giggled Ayu.

"It's addictive. It's all addictive. Orgasmic. Pushing myself as big as I can, which means they'll have to get pumped bigger, then I'll push harder..." purred Hitomi.

Ayu began to wheel Hitomi down the hall towards the long stay rooms. "How? Our foods OK but.." she whispered.

"Anything, everything. I had a gallon of soda in the cafe outside, then there's a little secret in my handbag" Hitomi replied.

Closing the door to her new room behind them, Ayu gently hoisted Hitomi's freshly inflated tit from its resting space on her gut. Hearing the soft moan, Ayu smiled wider and more wickedly than ever before.

"So, are we doing this? Push on?" said Ayu.

Hitomi gave a sultry nod, pure lust, no real consideration of what this meant for her future.

"I’ll keep you full, you won't need a trick pose. So a gallon huh... We can work on that".

[ala-baguette]

If Harry couldn’t be an Auror for whatever reason, what Job do you think he be happy doing instead?

I’ve been mulling over this Ask for some time, trying to come up with an appropriate answer.  But I just… can’t.  Harry’s an Auror. 

(Very minor KWTL spoilers in that to know my opinion on this is to know where I'm going with the story, but I think we're mostly past that anyway)

I know the fandom has assigned him several other alternative careers—most commonly, I think I have heard Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and professional Quidditch player.  I see their merits, but… that’s just not my Harry. I would love him to be in a nice, safe profession like a professor.  And yes—I think the DA proved that he would be great at it.  But honestly, Harry started the DA to stick it to people like Umbridge and Fudge.  Not because he found teaching fulfilling in its own right.  It was his way of fighting back while he was feeling his most powerless.  After Umbridge was gone, Harry showed no interest in continuing the DA.  Neville and Luna even asked him to at the start of HBP, and he still just brushed them off saying there was “no point.”  Maybe he would have come by for the occasional guest lecture gig, but I don’t see him happy sitting behind a desk, grading papers, docking house points, planning lessons, writing exams…  The boy’s just not that patient.  It doesn’t feel like his calling. As for becoming Quidditch star, we all know my boy’s got the skills, and we know he feels passion for Quidditch and for flying.  But in a post-war world, I think that level of fame would be off-putting.  Throughout his youth, Harry has moments where he seems to enjoy being the centre of attention when he feels it is for something he deserves (Quidditch matches, Triwizard Tournament wins), but I do feel stepping into the Quidditch world post-war is a different level.  This is willingly accepting more fame that there’s no turning off or stepping away from.  And while Harry would never consider Quidditch frivolous, I do think he wants his career to mean something more.  While preparing for their career advice in OotP, Hermione scoffs that she doesn’t want to be an Auror because she doesn’t see it as adequately “worthwhile.”  Her scope is big.  She wants to change the world in a more systematic way.  But to Harry, I think being an Auror is “worthwhile.”  To him, saving that one person is worthwhile.  Offering justice to someone who was wronged is worthwhile.  He's not looking to fix all the problems in the world and prevent future ones like Hermione wants to.  He wants to help people directly.  Being an Auror to Harry is about being able to stand up for the little guy.  It’s about being able to protect people from going through the things he’s been through.  It’s about having the opportunity to solve puzzles and track clues and satiate his curiosity.  And let’s be honest, it’s about getting that nice little kick of adrenaline.  Honestly, there’s nothing more “Harry” than all that. I do understand why so many people dislike the idea of Harry becoming an Auror so much.  I get it.  I do.  I understand the reluctance to unite him to the Ministry after all they did to wrong him.  But, at least in my headcanon, this is Kingsley’s Ministry, not Fudge’s or Scrimgeour’s.  While it may have taken a while for Kingsley to prove it to Harry, I have to believe things changed post-war.  And of course, I understand the feeling that Harry went through so much, he deserves to be able to step away from all that pain and fighting and death.  Of course, I want that for him too.  But…  Does Harry deserve the quiet life?  Yes, undoubtedly!  Does Harry want the quiet life?  Possibly.  Sometimes.  Does Harry do what’s good for him?  Never. So I’m sorry, kind Anon.  I suppose all of this is me telling you I can’t answer your Ask.  Harry is an Auror.  He was an Auror in my head before JKR even came out and said he was an Auror, and I’m terribly stuck in my headcanons.  (Though, regarding him going on to become Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, to hell with that, Cursed Child!)

[yridenergyridenergy]

Would it be too much to ask you to make a summary/list of features of the live venues you've been to in Japan? I mean stuff like does it have lockers, are there barriers in the standing area, does it require drink fee, etc. Whatever comes to your mind that has the potential to be useful for other fans, it doesn't have to be ultra detailed ofc. I'd really appreciate it! And btw thank you for the live reports!

Hello! Sorry for the late reply. I was taking time to consider my reply, but with the imminent sale of tickets for the next tour in Japan, I reflected more about this and figured that there aren't that many differences between some venues anyway, so I don't need to describe every single location.

Essentially, I was pleasantly surprised by the installation of barriers inside Zepp venues. I only went to the Zepp Nagoya since Japan reopened after the COVID-19 pandemic, but it seemed to be the same at Zepp Haneda too, so I assume it's common to all Zepp venues now. Hopefully they don't remove those after Japan relaxes its health & safety measures to pre-pademic levels, as the barriers are great to prevent being squeezed violently by the mass of people from behind, and if you are close to a barrier on your side or in front of you, it is something to hold onto during headbanging sessions or jumps.

Otherwise, experiences like what I had at KBS Hall, where there were no barriers and way too many people in a small-capacity space, are something that I want to avoid a lot. In the past, Studio Coast was like that, and Namba Hatch had such tendencies, so the similarity to North American venues turned me off and I preferred less popular venues outside of the two main cities in Japan.

I can't remember a venue that was awesome when it came to sight, for example with the back being inclined upward so that everybody can see. Only seated halls offer that to a certain capacity, but either Kanazawa Cultural Hall or Nagano's actually seemed to dip in the centre before curving upward in the back. But seated halls tend to be way bigger, so I assume that people on the balcony and in the back (typically exclusive-ticket-holders, ironically) see Lego-sized Dir en grey members.

In my mind, my last experience at Club Citta got it crossed from my list of potential preferred venues because you really can't see much below the waist, and it got so hot in there.

Yokohama Bay Hall has two huge pillars on the sides that suck.

No clue about drink fees, but I never attended a Japanese concert where people had drinks. I only saw that in North America.

Hm quite sure that they have a cloak service or coin lockers at all venues. I never use them though: I want to waste zero time with that as I enter the venue to occupy the best spot possible, and I don't want to stand in the cold by putting stuff away in lockers too early.

Many venues unfortunately closed during the pandemic, such as Club Fleez , Studio Coast, Nakano Sunplaza and Akasaka Blitz. As you can see from Dir en grey's November tour list, we're basically stuck with either seated halls or Zepp franchises. And Namba Hatch of course.

If you have any specific questions, feel free! And thank you for even reading my reports!

[hella1975]

(hella you dont have to answer this, just wanted to say it) i know you ofc know that grief is a really complicated n fickle feeling but. it is, so i hope u can give yourself that space to grieve and do whatever it takes...but also please take care of yourself. and we're both creators of stuff so i really get the feeling, but i promise youre not destined for getting worse or stuck in that. something similar happened to me my senior year and even if you didn't know him that well, you're allowed that space to feel too.

ik my words prob dont do much, and i dont pretend to know better than you about your hometown or life or anything like that, but im here if u wanna talk. i love u <3

thank you for this my love. this is so kind and you didnt need to say anything but you DID and im so grateful for that. i promise im okay and im very good at being able to tell what episodes are temporary and what are more serious, so i know this one is temporary and is more shock/natural sadness at hearing the news that will peter off over time, so im trying to just. let myself feel it all for now and then put it to rest after a couple days. im sorry you can relate at all, i feel like it's such a specific, strange kind of grief to explain, when it's someone you know very distantly and technically have no 'right' to grieve, because like you said, grief is complicated, and it doesn't care what right you have to it or not. which is something im having to remind myself of and tell myself im not being selfish or self-centred for feeling upset by this. ive reached out to one of my irls and im going to tell her tomorrow bc i trust her to be good about this, so as basic as that sounds that's a pretty huge thing for me and im hoping it'll help even if it is just. talking it out. idk. but i appreciate this and i appreciate you, ily bestie xx

[lliinnkk]

This is a fic I've written from a scene out of my daydreams but this scene itself doesn't fit enough into a fandom to put it on AO3, plus if it did, it'd be multiple at once in a rly strange AU buuuuut I'm rly proud of it and I think it's rly cute so I wanna post it here :) I started writing it in February but I'm gonna post it here instead of writing anything new heh 😂

Word Count: 1.75k

Content: self-sacrificial whumpee; hospital whump; non sexual nudity; stubborn whumpee; comfort

(^Never written up smth for whump tag before so I hope this format is good? Hope I didn't miss anything important)

White light. That hospital stench. Kahston?? What the hell's he doing here??

"Oh shit, she's awake!"

Stop screeching this early in the morning, Faith thought, wincing back at the sound. Was there a needle in her arm?

"Didn't expect you to wake up so soon. Glad you're back! We were just finishing up here." Brandy's familiar face caught Faith's blurred vision, creating a sense of sanity in all the confusion.

"Am I..." her voice fell hoarse and dry and she swallowed harshly before speaking again. "Am I in the med centre? When did I get here?" She tried to sit up but Brandy hurriedly yet gently ushered her back down.

"You shouldn't strain yourself right now, just lie down! You've been in a coma for a long time. Just rest for now." Brandy looked strange, acting so serious, but put on a stupid smile like her usual self with an exasperated sigh.

The memories resurfaced slowly as Faith groggily rubbed her eyes. The last thing she could remember was shouting at Julius, and then...here... Oh.

"Where...the hell is everyone? Are they all okay? How long have I been gone for? Kashton??" So many questions, so little time. "I want answers!" Faith demanded.

"Okay, slow down! I told you not to strain yourself alright??" Brandy fussed, looking like she was about to restrain Faith by force. "Kash, why don't you go spread the good word that she's awake? I'll just handle it myself from here. Let's not allow visitors just yet since she's only just woken up."

"Yeah sure, I'll leave you to it then. I guess that's it for training today?" Kash asked, removing his hospital scrubs. Had he been treating Faith as a patient before she woke?

"Yeah go on, take the day off actually, we'll probably all be celebrating with a drink tonight," Brandy winked as she waved Kash out the door.

Faith took this time to take the rest of the room in. The room was full of hospital beds with equipment filled bedside tables but her bed was the only one being used. On her own bedside table she noted the cluttered amount of flowers and get-well-soon cards piled in with all the syringes and drugs of which the sight sent chills down her spine. She felt again the itch to get up.

"So, to explain the situation for you... Hm, this isn't going to be any easy news to break to you." Brandy let out a breath as though the emotional toll of the topic had physically knocked the wind out of her lungs itself as she took a seat on Faith's left. "Since donating seventy years of your lifespan, you've been stuck in a coma for the past week. I'm so sorry."

Faith's eyes widened. "I've been in a coma for a whole week? Seriously? How could I have lost so much time?" Panicked now, Faith made her third attempt at sitting up, this time unchallenged. The world spun around her and her head swam in a thick void of sickeningly painful dizziness.

"Hey, but don't worry! All our plans went ahead smoothly and everyone's actually settled in really well now. And everyone in hospital is healing super quick too, you don't have to worry." Brandy laid a gentle hand on Faith's shoulder to steady her and they made eye contact, though somehow still they couldn't see eye to eye. "You're fine, we're fine. Everything is going absolutely fine. Trust me. All we need you to do for us now is rest."

Faith's brows still furrowed, an expression of devastating betrayal etched across her face. "but... But what's he doing here?? Why's he here, why's Kash here??"

"Julius and I went to rescue him a couple days ago. No, I think it would be five days ago now actually. Yeah, why?" Brandy didn't understand.

"No... No, no, there's no way, why?? Why is he here? What, are you just saying you don't need me or something? Is that what you're saying? I was supposed to go, not Julius, if I was asleep you should've just woken me up, I'd have been fine, it'd have been easy, so easy!"

"What?? Faith, what the hell are you talking about? Did you not hear me or something? I said you were in a coma for a whole week! We weren't even sure if you were gonna survive, there was no way we were gonna make you do anything short of getting out of bed!"

"Just go and rub it in why don't you? I was just sitting here for a whole week and life kept on moving without me as if I'm not here." Blinking back tears, Faith breathed, balling her fists into her hair in an attempt to pull apart the pounding pain by force. Brandy could all but stare, just trying to put together how to react. "I've lost so much time. I... I've got to make up for this somehow. What the hell can I do to make up for this??"

"What the hell did you expect us to do while you were gone though, nothing?"

"No, I expected me not to have been in a god damn coma! I've lost so fucking much now! Why the hell did I have to pass out like that? I should've been stronger!"

"Faith, what the fuck?? You lost seventy years of your life! You'll never get those back!"

"I... Ugh!" Faith didn't know what else to say so she turned over in her bed and pulled the covers over herself but became tangled in wires and needles. "Ugh, I hate this, I hate being here, I feel like I'm being chained down! Get me out of here!"

"Oh alright, just calm down first, I'm only trying to help you," Brandy sighed, gently removing all the strings and wires attached to Faith's body.

Briefly, Brandy left the room only to fetch a spare wheelchair, then returned to the sight of stupid Faith on the stupid floor, groaning with the nauseating pain of jumping out of bed on unsure footing.

"Oh my god. I'm not even surprised you fucking dumbass."

"Help."

"Just get in the god damn chair."

After clambering into her chair she sanitised her hands before wheeling herself with practised precision out into the woods just outside. She shivered in just a hospital gown, cursing the early January air. This decision looked to worsen the state of her already stupid body but she just needed to get out of that damn hospital. Most importantly she needed to be on her own, possibly the most useless and ashamed Faith had ever felt.

"Thought you'd be here." Brandy's voice startled Faith and she quickly wiped her tears on her arm.

"Go away," Faith said, voice wobbling.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I got you a blanket and a bowl of soup. I don't know what the hell you think you're doing in the freezing cold like this," said Brandy, putting the tray of soup and water on the ground to throw a thick blanket over Faith's stunned face.

"Uh...thanks," Faith hummed, reluctantly taking the tray. She found a neat pair of gloves on it and slowly put them on then spooned the broth into her dry mouth. The steaming warmth spread down her throat and into the rest of her body and she felt as though she hadn't tasted something so good in years.

"it's okay you know?" asked Brandy, watching the wind blow brutally through Faith's hair as she continued to eat. "It's okay that you're not okay."

"I'm fine," Faith said, avoiding eye contact.

"Alright then," she took a seat on a nearby stump and hugged herself, thankfully smart enough to have put a coat on before she left. "But I'm not gonna let you just start walking around like you're perfectly healthy."

"I've never been perfectly healthy," Faith scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

"You act like you are."

"I have to."

"Not now you don't."

"Yes I do. What are people gonna think when they see me like this?"

"Not a single one of us hasn't seen you like this."

"Oh so they just don't care?"

"That's not it. Everyone cares, even Julius, that's why he went for you."

"But everyone's just moving on without me now. No one even needs me anymore."

"Faith, that's not true. You're worth more than just a sacrifice."

Faith just sighed and kept eating, eyes fixed on some stray leaf rolling around on the ground.

"You'd never say that about us so why would you say that about yourself?" Brandy stood up and towered over Faith. No response. This was clearly the end of the conversation.

"I'm done," Faith said, putting her spoon down after some time passed.

"Great, let's go back then."

"No, I'm staying here."

"Oh no you're not, you're coming with me," Brandy grinned maliciously, turning the wheelchair around despite Faith's protests. "You're having a shower!"

Faith nagged and shouted but had no strength to fight Brandy when she carried her bridal style into the shower room and gently set her down on a stool, undoing her hospital gown. It probably would've been easier to bathe than shower since she found it so difficult to walk or move but a fear of the ocean came with consequences.

She sat on the plastic stool under the shower head, completely naked and in need of a shave but probably not today. The water was cold, then hot, then just right, and she soon welcomed the warmth embracing her. All protest melted away at the feel of loving fingers in her hair massaging her scalp. The soft wash cloth saw no complaint as it gently washed down every surface of her body.

Afterwards, she was dried off in the bathroom, wrapped in white robes as Brandy brushed through and blow dried her hair with great care. She was brought to the sink where she could brush her teeth before changing into a clean hospital gown and being carried back to her hospital bed.

"There you go - warm, clean and full on tasty food now," Brandy sang, pecking Faith's forehead.

"Thanks Brandy. And sorry about earlier, I promise I'm really okay now," Faith said, cheeks still pink from the warmth of the shower. Brandy knew she still wasn't really okay but knew better than to kick up a fuss about it. Faith stretched, head no longer pounding. "Alright, I think I'm ready for visitors now. Let everyone in!"

Thank you for reading, I am very proud of this!! ^^

[pumkinbopie]

Boiling T.V show idea (I'm sorry for how much there is)

Ok, so I am by no means a writer, and I do not claim to be one, but I have had this T.V show idea plaguing me for too long now, and much as I talk about it, the more I want to work on it and I can't seem to focus on anything else. So please accept this gift of me frantically writing everything I can down about this my T.V show :)

Some necessary prior knowledge I guess: Jeb is the main character of the T.V show, he lives in a tavern with his mother, his best friend (And romantic interest but that's for season 2 hopefully) and his parents outside the kingdom. Harper is the princess of said kingdom and is to take her father's magic on her 16th birthday (this requires a whole other post about the magic system) Elise and Rei are also a part of the main friendship group (I haven't worked much on them yet) Also, the magic system in the world revolves around the elements and crystal-powered weapons.

The T.V show would centre around the main 5 as they go to the royal academy and learn how to be adventurers, but also crumble a corrupt monarchy and befriend a literal god (Y'know the usual) This is a brief synopsis (I know it's a lot I am sorry) of the first episode:

So the episode would begin with a dramatic and intense adventure going on and a guy running through a dungeon and narrowly avoiding multiple traps. Then he stumbles upon the treasure he was seeking but then gets attacked by something and the screen goes black. Cut to young Jeb and Pierre being amazed as the viewer find out that the sequence was just an adventurer retelling his recent adventure and showing off the scar that he got because of it. His friends/ fellow adventurers disagree with his story and say that's not where he got the scar from. Regardless Jeb and Pierre are impressed and are talking about how they want cool scars like him. Jeb's mother sternly says something about not wanting them to get scars in the first place and scolds the adventurer for setting ideas into their minds, the adventurer then follows up by saying that if they want to be adventurers then they should go to [insert generic fantasy school here], but then a different adventurer chimes in saying "nonsense, only the lame adventurers go there. Go here instead" and slides over a royal academy poster. Obviously, the first adventurer gets offended by her statement and challenges her being like "If you're an adventurer then where are your scars?" then she would come back with the stereotypical answer "I'm good enough where I don't get scars", then she responds with "well, let me be the first to give you one" and lunges for her, she expertly avoids it sending him crashing into a table and chairs, disrupting other adventurer's having their dinner making them join in on the fight. Jeb's mother calls for Pierre's parents to start up the protection runes (the magic system explained in another post) around the building so that nothing else gets broken. Jeb's mother whisks Jeb and Pierre off to bed before they see anything too violent, her saying "It's already too late for you two to be up anyway" and "quickly off to bed with you". Pierre grabs the school flyer before they both head off to bed with Jeb's mother in tow. they get to their shared bedroom and both quickly get into bed, Jeb's mother powers the silencing runes (Again in the other post I am so sorry) plastered on their doors before wishing them both a good night and sweet dreams, as she closes the door the sounds of the tavern below seemed to fade away leaving the two in silence. Pierre says to Jeb "So we're getting into that school right?" and Jeb replies with "Obviously, could you imagine how cool it would be to be adventurers" The scene transitions with Jeb and Pierre talking about their possible adventures whilst zooming in on the school flyer on the floor. Cut to it's been stuck on their wall and seems a bit more tattered and aged. Jeb runs past the poster and the camera follows him as he quickly runs down the stairs to the tavern where his mother is working, wiping the bench. The viewer can now see that he has grown up, appearing to be around 14-15 he asks her if they have arrived yet, "Whatever happened to 'good morning mum!' or 'how's your day going?" she says, either way, his mother hands over two letters with a regal stamp, he gleefully asks where Pierre is and she says "with the sheep". With a quick goodbye, Jeb is off again running to the back and finds Pierre using plant magic to help herd the sheep into their pens. Jeb calls out his name and ofc Pierre looks towards Jeb and that he's got the letters but in doing so he gets distracted from the sheep so one of them rams into him and knocks him over. Jeb obviously runs over to help him get up and Pierre makes a comment like "Oh, my hero, thank you for saving me!" before Jeb helps him up (There's a parallel to this scene in the second season where Pierre gets distracted from wrangling the sheep because he realises he has developed feelings for Jeb). they both sit by the fence to open their letters, ofc they are both nervous about it. But they both get into the school and see that the orientation is later that day.

introduced to the rest of the main characters like Elise and Rei, as the orientation speech begins the principal introduces the school and recalls its history, and then the other teachers are introduced for some reason or another they need a fifth-person to form a group, Jeb notices a girl standing by herself who happens to be the princess Harper and walks over to invite her to their group, she says yes and they walk back together, he is unaware that it is indeed the princess due to him living in an outer village not too connected with the go about with the royal family and neither is Pierre so they're both like "yeah now we can go into the next part of ceremony" whilst Elise and Rei are like "Dudes, that the princess what?!". They then notice the royal guards looking around for the princess, The group tries to wave down the guards being like "yo, she's over here" but the princess grabs Jeb and starts booking it to the next area of the orientation followed closely by PIerre, Elise, and Rei which is centered around finding their strongest form of magic, this would be in the training ground and after arriving at the training ground the gang is like "hey what was that about" "like why did you run away from the guards" "are you a wanted criminal?" but she just kinda shrugs it off being like "they are just really overbearing and i wanted to get away" they are all chill with that answer and begin the next part which is them testing to see which of the natural magic they are strongest at, when Rei goes to grab a crystal with their bear hand the teacher there stops him explaining the whole thing where the energy is just that, pure energy and if touched can lead to diasasterous side effects and taps her leg, which is shown to be a crystal powered prosthetic, so she gives themgloves to put on. They each have a go at each of the magic crystals aiming at training dummies and their main magic is as followed. Jeb: Electric Pierre: Fire Harper: Air Elise: Water Rei: Life/ Plant they go to the student-only ceremony and the principal stops the guards from entering the school saying"Yeah sorry this is for students and faculty only", and when he does it, he gently nods to Harper showing that he knows the princess doesn't want them to be there, which slightly foreshadows his ability to read minds (Again in the magic post I am so sorry) the student orientation goes on the way and they are shown around the school. at all the different classes shown with students in them, then the viewers are introduced first introduced to the magic weapon thing with a kid attacking a training dummy with some sort of water magic. and of cause, all the kids are like "WOAH!!" after the tour has just ended the king turns up to collect his daughter, not entirely scolding her for ditching the guards, but also kind of reprimanding her, hitting her with the "you know they're just here for your protection right?". He would also most likely address the principal, probably using his first name, maybe to establish a sense of power, like everyone else in the show would just refer to him as sir, except when the gang really get to know him at the end of the season/ early season 2, but then when he's taking her away he's a bit peculiar and Jeb and Pierre notice and think he gives off icky vibes, but everyone else just kind of accepts it, being like "he just looks like that" or "he's probably just worried about her". After the princess leaves the Principle finalises the tour and begins to explain the boarding situation for the students, where they will sleep and whatnot, and explain how students that live close by to the school don't have to sleep at the school whilst it is advised for those who live further away from the school to do so. they will then probably return to the tavern to tell their mothers about the orientation, and the episode will probably end with them starting to pack their stuff ready to start their school life.

[jaffacakerebellion]

There's no bad weather, only bad clothing

Character A had trained for years and years, and finally they had been accepted to work on the scientific exploration and discovery centre in the very arctic circle. They were thrilled to join as the newest (and by far the youngest) member of the research team.

Specialising in engineering and wind turbine maintenence, they hadn't really had to think about their fashion sense before. Cargo pants and a big hoodie were usually their thing, unless they had an occasion to get dolled up. When packing to leave home and move to the arctic, the last thing on their mind had been what they would be wearing. In fact, they had mainly packed books.

Character B, the oldest member of the research team, and world-expert in arctic fauna, had openly tutted when they saw what A had brought.

"How are you gonna stay warm? Have you even brought underlayers?" Character A felt like a child being scolded by a parent. The others had been very understanding, offeirng to lend them clothes, but embarassment got in their way, and blushing kept them more than warm enough whenever anyone asked.

When a turbine broke down not too far from the base, everyone forgot themselves in the face of the emergency.

"We're going to have to go out and get the turbine up and running before it has a serious impact on our energy stores," B briefed them as they got their outdoor gear on, over the top of their clothes. "As long as we all remember our training and our roles, and don't forget the usual safety measures, I estimate it should be back up and running within four hours, which gives us plenty of time before sundown."

It all sounded so simple out loud. Not long after, as the team filed out the door, the biting cold and ripping wind tore A's breath away. Uh oh, they thought to themself, as the team set off across the ice, hand in hand so they wouldn't get lost or pushed away by the winds. Character A had been put at the very front of the line, leading them all towards the turbine, their bag of equipment so heavy that the strap was bruising their shoulder.

Within minutes, A was shivering and tensing up, dreams of a nice hot chocolate when they got back to base dancing through their mind's eye. Maybe character C, a friendly meteorologist from New Zealand who had been the kindest to A since they got to the base, would make their famous hot chocolate on the stove once the repair mission was done.

Character A couldn't quite tell when their fingers had started to get numb, and hadn't really had to think about it until they nearly dropped one of their heavy bags of tools, breaking their grip with character D for just a fraction of a second, to pick it back up again.

"Oops, sorry." Character A said to nobody at all. They looked up around them, into the snow that had started falling lightly about five minutes ago but was seriously thick by now. "Hello?!" They called out, not sure which direction to turn in. "Guys, where are you?" The sound of their voice was completely eaten by the wind and the snow.

They pulled their GPS out of their pocket. Every team member had one, and it showed where everyone else was- as long as they had theirs switched on. Some team members did, others didn't, but as long as they all stuck together, A could find them again, right? They spotted character B on the map, their little dot inching across the screen in A's shuddering hands. The glare from the snow and the flakes drifting down made it near-impossible to see the screen. Character A gripped their bags, gritting their teeth and resolving to move towards the turbines. The rest of the team would be going that way anyway, right?

They kept going, battling through harder and harder snow. They wished B were with them, big and strong as they are, more able to weather the elements. B was short and slight, with not much meat on their bones to keep them warm. Finally, they walked nearly headfirst into the broken turbine, unable to see six inches in front of them in the sudden blizzard. They put their bags down, rooting around for an Allen key to open up the compartment at the bottom of the wind turbine. Once the front panel was removed, they set about discovering what had caused the fault. They removed some tools and eqipment from their bag, and hunkered down to get on with their task, hoping that the others would get there soon.

They didn't know hwo much time had passed or how long they'd been working on fixing the turbine when they felt a hand on their back. It occurred to them that their eyes were closed, and there was something on their face, and that their bones were hurting. On opening their eyes, they discovered that they were kneeling in front of the turbine, their forehead pressed against it. They tried to get up, but couldn't, as their legs had turned to numb string cheese, totally deaf to instruction.

"Character A? Character A, can you hear me?" a voice was saying softly into their ear. If they could have turned their head, they might have been surprised to see B talking so softly to them. B always seemed to be annoyed with A- they were so young and new to everything and always making mistakes.

"Character A, wake up." The voice was back again. And then it was quieter. "Guys, I think they're hypothermic. We have to get them back to base."

All of a sudden, a strong pair of arms appeared around A, easing them up into a princess carry, their tense little body easing a little into the warmth. It was with the rocking sway of the steps that A fell into a dreamless sleep, their shivering tremors melting away.

.....................................................................................................

They awoke. Awoke? They hadn't remembered choosing to sleep. They were in the kitchen/communal area/living room sort of area at base. This was not a place they usually came, eating food in their room, not wanting to disturb the others, who all seemed to have made friends long before A got there. Two things occured to them at this moment: 1) they were wrapped in a blanket which didn't belong to them. They weren't complaining, it was lovely and fluffy and warm. 2) everyone was in the kitchen. and was staring right at them.

"What's going o-" they started, but were cut off immediately.

"You. Worried. Us. Sick." B was glowering at them, their big menacing eyebrows like stormclouds on their forehead. "You wore inadequate gear, you wondered off just as a blizzard was hitting, you tried- and succeeded at- fixing a turbine alone?" Character B counted the sins on their fingers. "Carrying tools which are waaaay too heavy for one person to lift, I might add-"

"Alright, alright, we get it, B." Character C cut them off, knowing full well that B wasn't done tirading. "We can talk about it when you're feeling up to it, A. Right now, you need to drink this." Sure enough, C handed A a great steaming mug of hot chocolate, which explained the wonderful smell in the kitchen, and why characters C, D, E and F were all nursing mugs topped with marshmallows and cream. Character A took a sip, and they were filled with such wonderful warmth, they could have fallen back asleep right then and there.

"Now why have you been avoiding everyone?" B's blunt statement snapped them out of their comfortable, pensive daze. They stared up, trying to reposition themself on the communal sofa, almost blushing despite the receding hypothermia.

"I haven't been-"

"You won't eat with us. You don't tell us much about yourself. You barely talk about your work. You basically live in your bedroom, even though it's tiny. You don't join us for film nights or open up when things are getting to you. Are you depressed or is it somethin wrong with us?" B nodded around at the rest of the team, who seemed unsure where to look or what to say, but still held their breath for an answer.

"I- I just- I thought you guys were already friends when I got here, and I'm just some engineer who showed up one day. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me."

B's scowl softened at the humble admission. "On this base, we're a team. We're a family. I know it's hard being so far away from friends and family, really hard, but we've all got to stick together and enjoy each other's company. So, it's not because we've pissed you off?" There was surprising tenderness in B's voice.

"No, not at all, I just didn't want to annoy you guys is all. I just felt like a stupid kid, getting in your way and messing up."

"Being a beginner is hard," piped up D, also an engineer. "Nobody's upset with you for not knowing things sometimes or doing the wrong thing. You're learning. There are very few people in the world who do what we do. Now budge up. It's movie night."

Before A knew what was happening, the whole team was nestling onto the couch around them and arguing over which film to watch. A didn't mind at all, sipping at their hot chocolate, and feeling, for once, at home, nestled among the kindest nerds they'd ever lived with.

I’ve come across your 158 words writing challenge, and I was wondering if you have some stuff similar to it? Or if you don’t, what kind of simple challenges can you give that are just like the 158 words one?

Hey nonny

your ask inspired me to create this uquiz:

whump writing prompt quiz

"Answer a few questions and you will receive a whump writing prompt. Write a short story with no more than 3000 words based on the prompt."

You can tag me if you write a short story based on the prompt you receive and I will reblog it here.:)

I hope this is something you all will enjoy. Let me know what you think of this quiz. I would like to know if people enjoy something like this. It was kind of fun to create it.:)

*Edit/ disclaimer:

Sorry, I forgot to mention: I am not a writer so I let an AI create the prompts, in case someone doesn't want that.

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

A Hunting Trip (Part 4)

pairing: dean winchester x reader x damon salvatore

synopsis: a crash course in self defence  - *yn* finally tells dean and sam what's been going on in mystic falls. dean takes it upon himself to make sure she can keep herself safe.

warnings: fluff, angst, swearing

notes: i love this chappy so much, am so happy to be back writing x

Series Masterlist

"Just this one here."

Dean followed *yn*'s index finger to guide the impala into the driveway.

*yn* still couldn't believe that John had given Dean his car.

"Oh great, here come the million and one questions." Dean grumbled.

The rumbling engine must have alerted Sam, because he was already hurrying down the porch steps towards them. The two hopped out of the impala just as Sam reached the car.

"Where the hell have you been?" He threw his hands up in the air before perching them on his hips. His gaze firm as he glanced between the two, much like a stern mother.

"Why don't you just calm down and hold your questions till we get inside detective." Dean responded. Definitely not the right thing to say.

"Calm down?" Sam looked at him in disbelief. "I thought something had happened, you weren't answering your cell and *yn* was being all cryptic on the phone."

"Well we're here now and in one piece." Dean gestured between him and *yn*. "Although slightly traumatised."

"I'm going to explain everything, come on." *yn* patted Sam's shoulder in apology before moving past the boys to scale the porch staircase.

Sam shot Dean one last unimpressed look which Dean pretended to not see as they followed after *yn*.

"So this is your place huh?" Dean asked her as she slid her key into the front door.

"Yep, home sweet home."

The house was unexpectedly sparse. A single couch and small television occupied the living room. There was no art or pictures on the walls. Dean could see a film of dust coating the small coffee table that stood at the entrance.

It was like no one lived here.

She poked her head out of the door, scanning the quiet suburban street once more. Dean turned to look at her at the sound of the soft click of the lock sliding into place.

"I really doubt that lock's going to do much good if one of your friends wants to get in."

"Vamps can't enter a home unless they're invited in by the owner." She shot back as she placed her keys on the entry table.

"Smart ass." She grumbled under her breath as she shrugged off her jacket.

"I don't need super vamp hearing to hear you, you know." Dean remarked as his eyes slid over every inch of the house.

"I'm sorry, did you just say vampires?"

"Oh you have so much to catch up on Sammy." Dean patted his shoulder as the brothers followed *yn* down the hallway and into the kitchen.

"Take a seat, you guys want something to drink?" *yn* gestured to the dining table.

"We're fine thanks."

Sam's brows had started to do that twitchy thing they did when he was anxious.

Dean turned to look at his brother incredulously. "Speak for yourself." He turned to *yn*. "I'll take anything that even slightly resembles alcohol."

She nodded knowingly, "that I can definitely do."

Dean's eyes fell on the open fridge door as *yn* disappeared behind it.

For the first time since they'd stepped foot in this place, there was evidence that someone lived here. Photos stuck under tacky mystic fall magnets were strewn haphazardly over the door's surface. He could make out photos of her and Elena in cheer uniforms and a few others with people that he had recognised around town. One of her and Damon laughing was front and centre.

None of her dad, or him and Sam, or anyone from her childhood for that matter.

"Will this do?"

Dean quickly averted his gaze as *yn* popped her head around, two bottles of beer on show.

"That'll do perfectly." A grin appeared on her face as she shut the door with her foot and came over to sit with the pair at the table.

Dean thanked her with a nod as she slid the bottle over to him. Sam looked like he was about to combust as he watched the pair take a sip from their drinks.

The silence stretched on. For the first time a look of uneasiness crossed *yn*'s features as she placed the bottle down onto the oak.

"I don't really know where to start."

The admission seemed to soften Sam's urgency. As she sat in front of them and fiddled with her fingers, it was like they were suddenly back in a hotel room, waiting for their dads to finish a hunt. Like they were trying to pretend that they were normal, even for a few hours.

"The beginning seems like a good place." His words were gentle as he studied the girl in front of him.

She bit her lip and glanced at the clock on the wall opposite her.

"Take your time, we want to know everything." Dean was the one who spoke this time, and even he had taken himself by surprise at how calm he sounded.

What was more surprising was that *yn* didn't shoot back with a sarcastic remark or roll her eyes. Instead, a grateful look flashed across her features as she nodded.

"Ok."

So, the beginning was where she started. She told them everything, from the day that her dad died to when they'd shown up. About how it was a regular job and he'd been taken by a nasty spirit and the next thing she knew, she was being moved from home to home.

She told them about vampires and werewolves and witches and dopplegangers. About humanity switches and sunlight and stakes. She told them about the Founder's Council, about the Salvatores. She told them about Katherine and the tomb vampires. She told them about Klaus, about his obsession with making an army of hybrids. She told them about the original family and the coffins, about Stefan's fixation on getting revenge on Klaus.

She did decide to leave some details out, mainly about Damon's less... morally ok decisions and the people that her friends had killed along the way. But she did tell them about her friends, about her new family, about Alaric and Sheriff Forbes, about the bonds that they had all created during this time. About the fact that she was going to a real high school now, with real teachers and real prospects of college.

The whole time their eyes did not leave her. They nodded, smiled, grimaced (a lot) and asked questions occasionally. But there was not one moment where they were not one hundred percent focussed on her. And as she talked, *yn* realised just how desperate she was to tell someone outside her mystic falls circle about what was happening. Someone from her past. Someone who could understand and sympathise with just how messed up her life had been.

As she talked, it was like she could visualise the bonds of their relationship slowly begin to repair after so many years of disuse.

"And, I think that pretty much brings it up to today."

She could feel the brothers' eyes on her as she brought the bottle to her lips and finished the remnants of the liquor in one foul gulp.

"I uh-" She watched as Sam cleared his throat, his eyes darting to look at Dean before turning to her.

"I think I'll take that beer now."

A soft smile presented itself on her lips. The chair scraped against the floor. The sound bounced off the bare walls.

"It's a lot to process."

Dean watched as *yn* disappeared behind the fridge door once more.

"If it hadn't happened to me I wouldn't have believed it." Dean's eyes never left the photos plastered in front of him as he spoke.

"So what, he literally just locked eyes with you and like... mind controlled you or some crap?"

"It's called compulsion, and yes that's what they do." *yn* corrected Sam as she made her way back to the table.

"Right sorry, he compelled you to just do whatever he wanted?"

"Pretty much yeah."

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Dean shrugged. "And if you ingest that herb you were taking about- varvin?" He continued.

"Vervain. And here." Sam raised a brow but still muttered a thank you as he took the beer and a bottle of water from her outstretched palm.

Upon closer inspection he noted the strange herb swirling around in the bottle, making the water slightly discoloured.

"It doesn't taste bad." *yn* commented when she noticed the sceptical look on his features.

"Bottoms up Sammy." Dean clapped him on the shoulder as Sam unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to his lips.

"And this really works?" He asked once he'd taken a large gulp of the liquid.

"You don't have to ingest it. You can wear it in something like a necklace and that will protect you too." She raised her wrist to reveal a bracelet dangling from her wrist.

"Me personally, I like to do both because if they yank it off you, you're screwed. Best to cover all your bases. You can incorporate into all sorts of weapons too, the stuff's a nightmare for them."

Her eyes darted between the brothers and raised a brow when she noted the looks on their features.

"What?"

"Nothing it's just uh-" Sam cleared his throat and glanced at Dean out of his peripheral. "I'm a bit confused as to why you're telling us all of this stuff. Given a lot of your friends are..."

"Vampires? You can say it." *yn* mused as she twisted the cap off her second beer. "And yes, they are my friends. But so are you. And unfortunately most vampires aren't as nice. I want you guys to be protected."

"You might want to consider getting better friends if that's what you consider friendly." Dean muttered under his breath.

"Given I'm in a generous mood, I'll choose to ignore that." Her answer made the side of Dean's lips twitch up into a smirk.

"Lucky me."

The pair locked eyes as *yn* brought the glass to her lips. He was taunting her, dangling his words in front of her like bait on a hook. Begging her to take a bite.

Her instincts were screaming at her, the words literally falling off the edge of her tongue. But the knowledge that she had to convince them to leave town was what prevented them from falling off the precipice.

"So you guys going to tell me why John's left you to fend for yourselves or what?"

"Oh come on." She continued when she saw them exchange looks. "Given I've just trauma dumped on you guys I think it's only fair you both tell me what you've been up to."

"We'd been hunting together for a few years and then he went on a trip." Dean spoke after a few moments. "And he didn't come back."

Trust Dean to include all the important details.

"That was when Dean came to get me from Stanford and-"

"Woah wait Stanford, as in Stanford University?" *yn* cut him off, her eyes growing wide.

"Uh yeah, I was studying law there."

"Sam that's amazing oh my god." *yn* breathed out, a grin spreading across her lips as she studied him.

"Thanks, I guess." Sam ducked his head down as a smile spread across his lips, unable to hide himself as her excited energy seeped into him.

"Don't be so fucking modest you dork." She laughed, "we always knew you were the nerd of the group."

She didn't miss the way Dean's small smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he studied his brother.

"John must have been really proud."

She instantly knew that she had hit a nerve when Sam's smile faltered, anger flashing across his features briefly before he regained his composure.

"Something like that."

Tension pulsated through the room as Dean pursed his lips at Sam's words. *yn* could almost see the wall go up between them.

Jesus what had she missed while she was gone?

"Anyway." Sam cleared his throat. "We went looking for him, to the town we knew he was working a job."

"No dad but there was a job. Spirit, nasty bitch too." Dean remarked, shaking his head and taking a deep drink of his beer at the memory.

"Dean dropped me back home and when I got there-" Sam looked down, a lump in his throat as he felt a rush of heat, like those flames were still licking at him, burning him from the inside.

"Jess, Sam's girlfriend, she was uh- well- she died just like our mum did."

A pregnant pause filled the room. *yn* blinked rapidly as she tried to process the information.

"Like, the exact way-"

The boys nodded solemnly.

"Fuck." She exhaled as she studied Sam. She fought the urge to reach over and take his hand.

"Jesus Sam, I'm so sorry."

"Thanks *yn*." A sad smile flitted across his features. He was unable to hide the anguish in his eyes. She knew he blamed himself for his girlfriends death. He was a Winchester, they were masters of self flagellation.

"Ever since then we've been trying to find dad."

"So what, he just took off without a word and you haven't heard from him since?" *yn* found it hard to believe that he would leave his sons without an explanation. Then again, it was John Winchester, he wasn't ever exactly going to win father of the year award.

"I've spoken to him, he gave me coordinates of another job." Dean answered her.

"That was it? No explanation of where he is?"

"That was it." No matter how good his poker face was, even Dean couldn't conceal the resentment on his face from her.

"We think he's got a lead on the thing that killed mum and that he doesn't want us involved." Sam explained.

"Right." *yn* nodded. "All the more reason for you to keep trying to find him then."

Dean's lips twitched, "trying to shake us already huh?"

"You are a pain in the ass..." She teased, "But it's not like that. I'd love for you to stay.. but you can't. It's not safe."

The mood visibly shifted. Dean's jaw tightened at her words, the veins in his hand protruding as he gripped the beer bottle. She could feel him shutting down already. So instead, she leant forward in her chair and locked eyes with Sam, praying that she could at least get through to him.

"Look, it won't take Klaus long to find out you're hunters. He probably already knows. And you two could be the best hunters in the entire fucking world, you still wouldn't have a chance against an original vampire."

She shifted her imploring gaze to Dean, swallowing the lump in her throat when he refused to meet her gaze.

"I've already lost my dad, I'm not losing you two." She twisted her fingers around each other as she tried to keep her voice steady and calm.

"You need to go and find your dad."

"Well that's ironic." Dean chuckled humourlessly.

*yn* frowned at his words. "What are you talking about?"

"He led us right to you."

"He's been leaving us clues - coordinates." Sam clarified when he saw her confusion.

"In his journal and stuff. There was a whole section on Mystic Falls, about all the mysterious animal attacks and missing persons."

"You think he knew?" Her question illicited a shrug.

"He knew something supernatural was going on. Hard to say if he suspected vampires."

She nodded, her mind was now racing even faster than it already had been. Not only did she have to worry about Klaus, but she also had to worry about word getting out in the hunter community about what was going on here.

"You have his journal?"

Sam nodded. "I'll go get it."

All she could do now was see what sort of information John had collected, what was available for hunters to find that would lead them to the town.

Dean wordlessly fished out his keys and handed them to Sam. His green eyes locked with hers as he did so, and *yn* swore he could read her mind in that moment.

She pushed the chair back, letting it scrape loudly on the wood. She could feel Dean's eyes still on her as she disappeared from view to pull open the storage cupboard under the staircase that led up to the second floor.

The shoe box was in plain sight. She reached up on her tippy toes and plucked it from the top shelf. Stepping out from underneath the stairs allowed her to examine it in the natural light.

It was tattered from age, the nike logo faded and discoloured. A layer of dust encased it. It was heavier than she remembered.

She placed it down gently onto the dining room table. Dean looked at her quizzically as she pulled off the lid. Particles of dust launched at her face, almost as if they were angry for being disturbed after so long.

"I saw you looking at my photos on the fridge." She spoke as she pushed the box towards Dean.

"You think I don't have photos of my dad, of you."

She watched as Dean brought the box closer to himself and peered inside.

"I didn't want to have to explain who any of you were to people who asked."

It also pained her to look at them.

He pulled out a stack of old photographs as she sat down once more. Her eyes never left his face, trying to gage his reaction as he sifted through the grainy faces.

A genuine smile spread across his lips as he chuckled. His mood did a 180. "Holy hell, I forgot how dorky you and Sammy were."

He flipped the photo around and sure enough there was a photo of a young Sam Winchester and *yn* Kitson.*yn* felt her cheeks flush as she snatched the photo from his hand for a closer examination.

Sure enough, there stood her and Sam, cheesy grins on their faces, dressed in matching Star Wars costumes. Sam as Luke Skywalker and *yn* as Han Solo. It was clear that the costumes had been made with whatever was available, her dad's belt nearly dwarfed her entire midsection and the pants were rolled up to her ankles so she wouldn't trip.

Despite her horror, she couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Christ, letting me go out like that has got to be considered some form of child abuse."

Dean chuckled as she placed the photo back down onto the table. "I remember you literally begging me to borrow my vest for that stupid costume."

"You should have said no, you would have been doing me a favour."

"And miss out on the opportunity to reminisce on your dorkiness years later? Hell no."

She shook her head, unable to wipe the smile off her face as Dean continued to sift through the photos.

"Oh my god."

"What?!" She was up and out of her chair, rounding the table to get a look at the photo that had made Dean's eyes bulge.

"Oh my god." She echoed as she slid into the chair beside him and peered over his shoulder.

"That is criminal." She gasped.

"What's criminal?"

The two twisted around in their seats to see Sam standing in the doorway. They glanced at each other before bursting into laughter.

"What? Show me!" Sam demanded as he stormed forward.

"Hey!" Dean protested as Sam reached over and plucked the photo from his hand. "I wasn't finishing admiring that."

*yn* covered her mouth, trying to suppress her laughter as she watched Sam study the picture.

"Oh my god." His face grimaced in disgust. "Burn this please."

"No, you look cute!" She protested.

"Cute is not the word I would use." Sam grumbled as he came to sit opposite them.

"Yeah sorry *yn*, gotta agree with Sammy on this one." Dean grinned as he reached over and grabbed it back from Sam.

"Dorky, loser, nerd, comes to mind though."

*yn* couldn't stifle her laughter any further as she looked at the photo once more.

It was a probably 10 year old Sam Winchester, his fringe even thicker and curlier then it was now, his two front teeth missing as he grinned wildly. He was holding some sort of science project in his small hands.

"Not much has changed in the dorky department."

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean. "What like you wouldn't have some embarrassing pictures in here?"

"Me? Pfft please, I never went through an awkward phase."

This time it was *yn*'s turn to roll her eyes.

"Yeah right."

"I was too busy with all the cheerleaders to go through one."

Spurred on by his words, she leant forward and flicked through the photos. A very young Dean Winchester, hair plastered up into an obnoxious quiff and gleaming with hair gel, wearing a leather jacket far too big for him, was beaming back at her. Her lips curled into a devilish grin as she plucked the photo from obscurity.

"You may not have gone through a dorky phase Winchester, but you definitely went through one just as embarrassing." She held it up triumphantly, dodging Dean's grasp as she held it out for Sam to take.

Sam let out a bark of triumphant laughter as he studied the photo, clutching his chest as he threw his head back in a dramatic fashion.

"Oh c'mon, I'm sure it's not even bad."

"Hm, I'd call using what looks like a whole tub of hair gel to style your hair pretty bad."

*yn* snickered at Sam's words.

"Give me that." Dean grumbled, snatching the photo from Sam's hand.

"Dude this is not even that bad." He protested, although *yn* didn't miss the way the apples of his cheeks turned a slight pink.

"Wasn't this his James Dean phase?" *yn* queried. Sam let out a howl of laughter.

"Oh my god how could I forget about the James Dean phase." Sam could barely get his words out as he laughed. "He'd pretend that lollypop sticks were cigarettes."

Dean's cheeks turned pinker. She almost felt sorry for him.

Almost being the key word.

"And remember that little walk he'd do."

"Hey, the man's a legend alright." Dean protested as they both burst into a fit of giggles.

"He's the definition of cool. Style. Class."

*yn*'s brows raised at Dean's words, biting her lip to stop the giggles escaping as he glared at her.

"I still think it's embarrassing." Sam remarked.

The brothers continued to bicker as *yn* resumed flicking through the photos. Her fingers stilled when her dad's smiling face suddenly stared back at her.

She was wrapped in his burly arms, her pudgy fingers clasping his neck. Pink bow in her wispy hair. A toothless smile and bright eyes aimed at him. She would have been no more than 2.

Grief hit her like an unexpected tidal wave.

She blinked as she felt hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes. The pad of her pointer finger brushed over his sun worn features. The werewolf inflicted scar on his left temple.

Dean's eyes involuntarily darted to her. He went to turn his attention back to Sam when he noted the tightness of her features. The veins in her hand were revealed from her grip on the photo. He recognised the emotion on her face instantly. One that he was all too familiar with.

"So where's your aunt?"

Her eyes met his, widened from the surprise of being snapped out of their focus. They softened almost instantly, and for a moment there was a look of gratefulness on her face. Like she understood what he had done. In a blink her face morphed into one of unreadability. It happened so quickly Dean almost doubted he'd even seen it at all.

"My aunt?"

Dean frowned at her question. "The one you said you lived with? Is she at work or something?"

"Oh. Right."

Her eyes darted between the two brothers. She may be good at hiding her emotions, but Dean was better at seeing through it.

"*yn*."

"She uh, she's... well, she's dead."

"Dead?" Dean balked. "What do you mean dead?"

"Like... the tomb vampires got out and she died of an 'animal attack' sort of dead." Guilt was written all over her features as she spoke.

Two bewildered expressions stared back at her.

"It's ok.. really! It wasn't that sad, it was a while ago and to be honest she was kind of the worst so-"

"I'm not worried about you being sad, I'm worried about who the hell has been looking after you all this time."

Annoyance flashed across her features, "I don't need anyone to look after me."

"Who lives here?"

"Me."

"I mean, who else lives here?"

"No one."

"No one? So you live here all by yourself?"

"Yes, that's what I meant when I said I live here."

Dean and Sam exchanged bewildered glances.

"I'm at Elena's most of the time, I pretty much live with her."

Now it all made sense. The dust. The lack of furniture. Why it felt like no one really lived here. Because no one did.

"So you don't have a guardian? Any sort of parental figure?"

*yn* bristled at his questions. She was starting to become quite irritated.

"Ric is my guardian technically, Elena and Jeremy's too."

"Ric? As in the former vampire hunter we saw drinking with your vampire boyfriend last night? Yeah, sounds like a great role model."

"Dean." Sam warned.

"What? I'm merely stating the facts."

"I thought we were passed the whole judging, making assumptions, just being an asshole in general thing."

She held his gaze. Her eyes glowering with annoyance. She radiated stubbornness. It made Dean falter.

"I'm only asking because I care about you."

Her resolve wavered, a crack in her mask appeared that allowed Dean a glimpse. He saw a flicker of sadness.

"You have a funny way of showing it."

The shrill voice of Taylor Swift rung out through the room, preventing Dean from a response. She really had to change that ringtone.

*yn* avoided Dean's intense gaze as she fished her phone out of her pocket and glanced down at the caller ID.

"Excuse me." Was all she muttered before pushing out of her chair.

She didn't answer until she was upstairs with the door shut. "What do you want?"

"Well hello to you too." She could hear Damon's amused smirk through the phone.

"This better be good, you're interrupting precious bonding time." She grumbled as she flopped onto her bed.

"Things going that well with dumb and dumber huh?"

She huffed at his question. "All I'm going to say is I hope it went better for you with Ric's doctor friend than it is for me right now."

"Yeah funny you mention that, I'm just leaving his flat now."

She frowned, "Why?"

"To check if there was a bunny on the stove." As he spoke she picked up her childhood toy and sat it onto her chest. Buffy the plush pink horse stared back at her unblinkingly.

"That bad huh?"

"She vervained me when I accused her of killing her ex boyfriend, then the little psycho blood jacked me."

"She what?" *yn* sat upright. Buffy tumbled down the side of the bed. "Are you ok?"

"Fine, just a little miffed. Although, somewhat pleased I got to say 'I told you so' to Ric. Just as I predicted. Diagnosed psycho case."

"Great, just what we need."

"Yep, add it to our list of never ending problems." Damon drawled, "I was actually calling to see how it was going on your end with your second favourite set of brothers."

In that moment a memory surfaced. She snatched it before it could disappear once more. As he spoke she swapped the phone to her other ear and hastily leant over to pull open her bedside table draw.

"I think I'm making progress." She rifled through the stacks of paper and trinkets. She froze as her fingers found its target.

"Well that's something."

She pulled it out, hidden deep in the drawers depths. She plucked it out like a prize. A treasure amongst trash.

"Keep me updated, yeah?" She could faintly hear Damon's question on the end of the line.

"Will do." *yn* heard herself mumble as she twisted back onto her back and stared up at the photo.

"I gotta go. Talk to you later." And with that she snapped her phone shut and tossed it onto the bed beside her.

She held the paper up in her hand, stretching it above her head so the ceiling framed it. A photograph. A special one, kept apart from the others in the box in the room below her.

Luke Kitson, *yn* Kitson, Sam, Dean and John Winchester all beam back at her. The only photo of the five of them together. A perfectly dysfunctional family.

She smiled softly, letting the pads of her fingers glide over the young faces. Frozen permanently in time. None of them held a clue as to their fates. Where they would be in 8 years time. She wished she could somehow transport herself into that photograph and stay there forever.

Her anger towards Dean fizzled. Like it always did. She traced his grainy features with her fingernail.

She knew then that she had to do whatever it took to keep them safe. Even if it meant biting her tongue and quelling her anger. If it meant stretching the truth so they felt safe enough to leave her here and go on their way.

She let out a shaky breath as she pressed the photo into her chest, clutching it like she still did with Buffy when she couldn't sleep.

"I promise I'll keep them safe dad."

Sam turned to look at Dean once they heard a door shut above them.

"Oh don't give me that look Sammy."

"What look?"

"The little disappointed puppy look you've managed to master."

"You could have been a bit nicer."

"Oh come on!" Dean threw his hands up in the air. "The girl's living in a house all by herself in a town full of vamps, you expect me to be happy about this crap?"

"No, and I'm not happy about it either, but acting like this isn't exactly going to help things."

Dean muttered under his breath, leaning forward to press his elbows into his thighs so he could run his hands over his stubble.

"What the hell are we supposed to do?"

There was a static pause as Sam studied him before answering. "I think we should do what she says."

"You want us to leave?" Dean blinked dumbfounded.

"Look, if what she says is true, we stand no chance defeating these.. original vampires or whatever they're called. It'd be a suicide mission." Sam answered him, lowering his voice as he spoke.

"If we find dad we can get his help to come back and stop this."

Dean shook his head. "So what, we're supposed to just leave her here? With these-" He cut himself off, his eyes darting to the stairs before looking back at Sam. "These monsters?"

"I don't think we have a choice Dean."

"She could come with us."

"And what? Sit in a hotel room while we go work jobs? C'mon. You know that would never happen. It's pretty clear she wants to stay."

Dean frowned, rubbing his stubble stressfully as he racked his brain for another solution. There was a part of him that wanted to grab her and throw her in the back of the impala and drive away with her. But he knew he could never do that. He could never take away her freedom, her choice. Besides, she'd probably scratch his eyes out if he even tried.

"The longer we stay here the harder it's going to be to find dad."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he looked up at Sam through his long lashes. "Is this about finding dad to help *yn*, or to get to him before he kills whatever killed mum and Jess?"

Sam flinched at Jess' name. His lips thinned into a firm line.

"We have a chance to kill the son of a bitch Dean. I'm not losing that. Not for anyone."

There was his answer. Dean sat up in his chair and leant back, his forehead creased as he studied his brother.

This wasn't the Sammy that he knew. The doe eyed, puppy like Sam Winchester who wanted to help everyone and anyone. No, this was a Sam Winchester who had a hard shell casing beginning to form around him. One that was driven by revenge and bitterness. One that was much too like John and Dean Winchester.

But despite all that, Dean knew his brother was right. They had no choice. If they stayed, they might all end up dead. At least this gave them time to reconvene and plan.

"Fine." Dean relented. "We go find dad, kill the son of a bitch, but then we are getting our asses back here and getting *yn* out."

"Deal." Sam nodded.

"But we ain't leaving until I give her at least some basic training. Who knows when she even last held a damn shotgun."

The staircase creaked before Sam could reply. The two sat up, trying to look as natural as possible as *yn* wondered back into the kitchen.

"Sorry about that, it was Elena." She spoke, waving her phone in the air before sliding it into her pocket. She seemed to return to the room in a much better mood than when she had left it.

"Everything ok?" Sam asked her, a smile on his features.

*yn* glanced at him before looking over at Dean. A strangely friendly smile was also on his lips.

"Yeah, just friend drama." She answered as she slid into her chair.

Each party seemed to be in a much friendlier mood, but the other could not quite work out why.

Her eyes landed on a photo amongst the pile, a genuine grin spread across her lips as she pulled it towards her.

Bobby Singer stared back at her, a rare smile on his face. A five year old *yn* Kitson sat beaming on his lap.

"Do you guys still see Bobby?"

Fondness washed over her at the memory of the grumpy older man. He'd always had a soft spot for her, and her for him.

"Yeah of course." Dean nodded.

"Hey, when this business is done with our dad why don't we swing through here and pick you up and we can all take a road trip to see him?"

*yn* looked up from the photo in surprise. Her eyes flickered to Sam who was nodding encouragingly.

"That sounds like a great idea." He agreed.

She glanced between them, trying to decipher what they were trying to say. "Does this mean you're leaving?"

"Yeah, well we talked about it and we think you're right. It's probably safer for everyone if we go." Sam was the one to answer her.

Her lips parted in surprise. Dean could tell that she had not thought it would be that easy. She turned to look at him and he could tell that she was reading him, trying to find the hidden motive behind their unexpected decision.

He did his best to keep smiling. If she could read him, she did not let on, a smile instead spreading across her lips. One that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"There is just one condition though." Dean finally spoke up.

"What's that?"

"Self defence training." *yn*'s brows shot up to her hairline.

"Self defence training?" She echoed. An amused smirk spread across her lips when he nodded.

"What? Don't think I can handle myself Winchester?"

"Just want to make sure you haven't gotten rusty that's all." He shrugged. There was a glimmer in his eye as they studied each other.

"Well we wouldn't want that, would we?"

A twig snapped underneath Dean's boot. A raven cawed in the distance.

"You sure no one's around?"

The two brothers stepped into the clearing that *yn* had directed them towards.

"Yeah, Ric, Elena and I come here all the time to train." *yn* answered from behind them. A loud thump made them swivel around.

"What the hell is that?"

The two brothers looked down at the duffle bag *yn* dumped down at their feet.

"Things I defend myself with."

They watched as she bent down. The teeth of the zipper parting echoed through the woods, bouncing off the old trees.

"What are we looking at right now?" Dean queried, his brows raised as he watched her pull out a shot gun.

"Well this one is loaded with wooden bullets, excruciating and a pain in the ass to dig out." She chucked it onto the grass.

"This one shoots mini daggers." Another thud.

"This is a vervain grenade."

Thud.

"Oh and this crossbow is pretty handy too."

Thud.

"And I think that's all I've got at the moment, Ric has some more back home."

She glanced up expectantly when she got no response. Their jaws were slack as they stared at the weapons laid out in front of them.

"You made these?" It was Sam who finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, I mean Ric thought of most of 'em but I helped... fine tune the final products I guess you could say." She picked up the shotgun, popping it open with ease and glanced down into the chamber.

Sam raised a brow and looked over at Dean. He didn't need to verbalise his thoughts. It was written all over his face. "What was that about her not being able to hold a shotgun?"

Dean shot him a glare before clearing his throat, "well that's all very impressive but sometimes we don't get the opportunity to grab weapons."

*yn* eyed him sceptically as he took a few steps back to move into the centre of the clearing.

"What about your hand to hand?"

She tried to hide her smirk as she placed the shot gun on the ground. She rose to her feet and dusted her hands off on her jean shorts.

He didn't need to know that Ric had been training her and Elena for months. Or that she never stopped training, even after her dad died.

He shrugged off his leather jacket and dumped it onto the ground, leaving him in a grey t-shirt. It was loose, except for around his biceps that bulged as he tensed. Her eyes darted to his hands, watching them curl into fists. His rings gleamed back at her.

She swallowed and forced herself to move her eyes back to his face. The last thing Dean Winchester needed to see was her checking him out.

She stepped forward so she was only a few metres from him.

"You know vampires have super speed and strength right? I don't think this sort of training is going to be much use."

"Just humour me." He answered her, a small smirk twisting up onto his lips. There was that gleam in his eye again. Challenging her. Provoking her.

"I wanna see what you're made of Kit."

Kit.

It felt like eons since someone had called her that.

"Hurry up Kit!"

"Put your back into it Kit."

"That's my little Kit."

"I love you Kit."

The nickname unlocked so many memories from her past. It didn't even feel like the nickname belonged to her. Like it was someone she'd known in her past life.

It felt so foreign to her ears that her brain took a moment to process it.

"C'mon Kit, what are you waiting for?"

Dean's voice brought her back down to earth. This time, the nickname nestled into her ear and made itself home again. It sparked something in her. A determined look settled onto her features.

Dean's eyes sparked when he saw her face morph. He held back his grin as the pair began to circle each other. They danced around each other, both of them holding their breath to see who would make the first move.

The snap of a twig was all it took. *yn*'s eyes must have shifted for no more than a few seconds. But it was all the time Dean needed to lunge forward and take her by surprise.

She stepped back and moved to curl her knuckles into a fist but he was already on her. Calloused hands gripped her forearms and twisted her around. She grunted as a knee pressed into the backs of her legs causing them to involuntarily buckle.

He used his bodyweight to push her down onto her stomach, twisting her arms and pinning them to her back in one fluid movement. She squirmed under his firm grip but she knew it was pointless. She was trapped, like a fish in a net. A fly in a spiders web.

She let out a grunt of frustration as she tried once more to writhe out of his strong grip. She could almost feel the rumble in his chest as he chuckled. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as a rush of warm air puffed onto the shell of her ear.

"Just as I thought, rusty." His voice was deep and amused. She gritted her teeth as he released her from his grip, chuckling to himself as he watched her get up onto her feet. Her breath was slightly ragged as she locked eyes with him, her jaw clenched.

Her ringtone blared through the woods. She tore her eyes from Dean and hurried to her bag. Damon's name illuminated the Caller ID. Her finger hovered over the accept button. She stole a glance at Dean who was already studying her intently. She flipped her phone shut.

"You don't need to get that?"

"Not important." She answered as she flicked it to silent and shoved it into the depths of her bag.

She rose to her full height and marched back into the centre of the clearing.

"Again."

After an hour, her body was aching and bruised. It was screaming at her to give up. And she might have done, if Dean hadn't just lunged at her for what must have been the 12th time and finally left his stomach exposed.

She stepped forward and punched him square between his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. She jumped on the opportunity instantly, kicking his feet out from underneath him. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, she pushed him to the ground and straddled his torso. A wild grin spread across her lips as she pinned his arms above his head.

Victory was hers. Finally. There was a triumphant look in her eye as his body stilled underneath hers, admitting defeat.

A smirk appeared on his lips as his hands settled on her thighs. His chuckle sounded like gravel. He winced as she intentionally pushed down onto the area of his stomach where a bruise was already starting to form.

"Well played Kit."

The praise affected her more than it should have.

She felt her cheeks flush as the pair locked eyes. The pad of Dean's thumb brushed against her skin. It left goosebumps in its wake.

"I'm spent." Sam groaned from behind them.

She finally broke eye contact, ducking her head down as Dean's hands flew from her thighs.

"Can we have a break now?" She asked as she rolled off him and glanced over at Sam.

"Please." Sam agreed as he collapsed against a tree. He seemed oblivious to the interaction that had just occurred.

"Great." *yn* rose to her feet and began to stretch her aching limbs. She could hear Dean getting onto his feet behind her.

"These weapons really work?" Dean spoke after a few moments of silence stretched through the clearing.

He had her crossbow in his hand. "Yeah, they've been useful before."

"And this one shoots stakes?" He brought it up to rest on his shoulder.

"Yeah, that ones a personal favourite of Ric's." *yn* answered as he watched him settle on a tree as a target. One eye closed as his finger rested on the trigger. Then he pulled.

There was a whoosh as a blurry figure snaked past her. The stake never found its target. It was stopped by a hand. A gaudy ring waved back at her. As did a smirking Damon.

"Uh oh, vampire not staked."

She blinked and he was gone. Firm hands gripped her shoulders before the stake had even hit the ground. A hard body pressed against her.

The band of the gaudy ring that was staring back at her only seconds ago was now pressing into her throat. Her face was guided to the side, exposing her skin. Fangs lightly scraped the side of her neck.

"Pretty girl gets killed instead." He murmured, his lips only millimetres from her skin. His fangs brushed her as he spoke.

Her face flushed and her heart pounded against her ribcage. This was so not the reaction she should be having to this encounter. She was certain Damon could hear the way her pulse was pounding. All she could do was hope that he assumed it was out of fear.

"You guys gotta work on your hunting skills."

*yn* knew how it looked, how Damon intended for it to look in front of Dean and Sam. But what they didn't see was how gently he had shifted her neck. How he had just brushed his thumb along the curve of her skull, almost in a way to communicate that he wasn't going to hurt her.

Dean's face had hardened as he aimed the crossbow at Damon.

"Alright ease up cowboy." Damon raised his hands in mock surrender but didn't make an attempt to move from behind *yn*. His makeshift shield.

"I'm just trying to make this training exercise as realistic as possible."

"Dean it's ok." *yn* reassured him. "This is just Damon's sick idea of a joke." She sneered.

Dean's eyes darted between Damon and *yn* for a few moments before he reluctantly lowered the crossbow. She could see Damon's smirk widen.

"You think my humour is sick? Why thank you."

She rolled her eyes and shoved him off her.

"You're an idiot."

He grinned at her as his fangs slid back into his gums and the veins under his eyes shrunk.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him before he could open his mouth again to spew out another taunt.

"You weren't answering your cell."

It was an accusation, not an explanation.

"I turned it off." His eyes narrowed at her answer.

"I need to talk to you." He glanced over at Dean and Sam, "in private." She rolled her eyes once more but nodded.

"And remember boys, special vamp hearing if you wanted to have a little gossip session about me while I'm gone." He turned and shot them an obnoxious wink.

She didn't wait for a response from Sam or Dean before she grabbed Damon's arm and dragged him off into the woods.

"Oh come on *yn*, why so grumpy." He teased. She gritted her teeth and finally came to a stop once they were out of ear shot of the boys.

"You rocking up with your fangs out isn't exactly going to help me convince them that they should leave me here, is it?"

This time it was Damon's turn to roll his eyes. "Alright I'm sorry, I was just having a little fun."

She sighed and folded her arms in front of her chest. "How's it going with them anyway?"

"Good actually, they've agreed to leave town."

"Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Huh." Damon nodded, his lips pursed, "probably good timing actually."

"And why's that?"

"Well... I sort of had a run in with Klaus."

"What? What happened?" All annoyance directed towards Damon flew out the window.

"He got the coffins back."

"Shit." She cursed under her breath. "So we're all screwed then?"

"Well... I did manage to hide one before he got there."

She blinked in disbelief. "The locked one?"

"Yep." He popped the 'p' as he nodded. "Let's just say he wasn't too pleased with me."

"So we still have leverage." She breathed out, "that's good. Although he's probably going to be twice as murderous now."

"Oh, I think he's going to have bigger things to worry about for a while."

Her eyes narrowed at his words, "and why's that?"

A smirk twisted up onto Damon's lips as he leant into his jacket pocket. She took a step back, her eyes widening at the object.

A white ash dagger stared back at her.

"Is that...?"

"You bet it is."

"Damon what the hell did you do?"

He shrugged. "I thought it was time for a brotherly reunion."

"So you're telling me we've now got two original vampires running around Mystic Falls?"

"Elijah hates Klaus. Wants him dead."

"We thought that the last time and look what happened."

Damon huffed. "This is different, Klaus broke his promise and stuffed him into a wooden box. The dudes pissed. And if Elijah's pissed, it means we have a chance to get him to work with us to finally put a stop to Klaus's little tirade."

*yn* sighed and folded her arms in front of her chest. "You better be right about this."

"When am I ever wrong."

She shook her head, a ghost of a smile spreading across her lips as she looked away. Her eyes involuntarily dragged back into the direction of Sam and Dean.

"You want to get back to your training Kit?"

The nickname falling from his lips made her jerk her head back at him.

"That is what they call you, isn't it?"

"Were you spying on me?" She hissed.

"I had to find you from the sound of your voices. I didn't have a choice but to listen in." He shrugged innocently. If looks could kill, he'd be very much dead right now.

"I did arrive in time to see you tackle hero hair 2.0 to the ground."

"Are you done?"

"It was kind of hot."

She felt her cheeks begin to burn.

"Alright now I'm done." He grinned. "I'll leave you to it, gotta go tell the baby brother my genius plan."

She watched him take a few steps before he suddenly turned back around to face her. All traces of humour had left his face. She jutted her chin up to look at him as he marched towards her.

"Don't put your phone on silent again." A breath caught in her throat as he raised a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. His gaze had softened as he studied every inch of her face.

"I hate worrying that something's happened to you."

In a blink he was gone.

"Fuck." She murmured under her breath.

*yn* spent the time it took reaching the clearing to collect herself and push thoughts of Damon to the back of her mind. By the time she reached the boys, she was the perfect picture of calm and normalcy.

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah." She nodded, "friend drama."

Dean nodded. She knew that he didn't believe her.

"So-" She cleared her throat. "Do you guys want to keep training?"

"It's getting kind of late actually, we should probably get going soon." Sam answered her.

She felt her heart plummet to the ground. She knew that they had to go, but she wasn't ready for it. They'd just got here. They were just starting to reconnect, to mend those bonds that had eroded over the years.

Even though she was practically limping from their training session, it had been some of the most fun she'd had in a long time. Giggling as Sam and Dean bickered, or trying to contain her laughter when she'd accidentally kneed Sam in the groin. It felt so natural. So familial. Almost like her dad was about to pop out and call them in for dinner like he used to all those years ago.

Surely it wouldn't hurt if they stayed just a little while longer. Like Damon had said, Klaus was distracted.

"Why don't you guys stay the night?" She suggested, glancing between them hopefully.

"We could grab some dinner and then you can head out in the morning."

The boys exchanged dubious glances.

"C'mon you can sleep at mine, I'm sure you must be sick of motel beds."

That seemed to be what tipped them over the edge.

"Alright that sounds good, thank you." Dean spoke, shooting her a tight lipped smile.

A grin spread across her lips, "great! Let's get something from the grill. I think it's burger deal night." She spoke enthusiastically as she picked up her duffel bag.

"Ooh! I call shotgun!" And with that she hurried off towards the impala, leaving the boys trailing after her.

"We're not playing any Taylor Swift." Dean called out to her as she neared the car.

She rolled her eyes, "I know you don't actually hate her."

"Oh really? And how do you know that?"

The car lock clicked.

"Because no one actually hates Taylor Swift. It's impossible."

Dean muttered something under his breath as the three of them piled into the impala. Sam's knees were practically up to his face as he forced himself into the back. Dean slid the key into the ignition.

"Do you still have that ACDC tape your dad used to play all the time?"

Dean's fingers froze in place. He turned to look at her.

"You still listen to ACDC?"

"Yeah. Of course I do. Why do you think I chose the name Young?"

Dean thought he might pass out as realisation hit him. "Like as in Angus Young...."

"Yeah..." She looked at him puzzled. "Do you guys still not use those sort of fake names?" She glanced over her shoulder at Sam.

"Yeah we do it's just..." Dean trailed off, bringing her attention back to him.

"Anyway-" He cleared his throat, "I have it, it's already in."

His answer made her smile grow wider. "Well what are you waiting for Winchester?"

He shook his head in disbelief before twisting the key in the ignition, letting the impala rumble to life. He pressed a button and the beginning of Back in Black started to blare through the speakers.

Sam internally groaned.

"Now that's what I'm talking about." She leant back in her seat and kicked her feet up onto the dash as Dean pulled out onto the road.

Sam's brow raised when Dean didn't say a word. If that had been him, he'd have been told to get out and walk.

Dean grinned and began to tap his fingers along the leather of the wheel, his head bobbing in time.

"Back in black, I hit the sack - come on Winchester!" She exclaimed when she didn't hear Dean's voice, hitting his chest playfully.

Sam blinked in disbelief as Dean began to join in, the pair of them shouting at the top of their lungs. Dean cranked the music louder.

"Oh my god." Sam mumbled to himself.

"There's two of them."

I really love this part - don't worry though there's gonna be soooo much drama coming up hehehe <333 As always, feedback would be super super appreciated and you can give it back HERE!

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[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 30

Previous | Next | Master List

ahahaha… Hello after many months (Sorry)

TW: Violence (again…)

Heads-up this is very long

"Merde."

————————————————————

Ladybug fiddled with her yo-yo string, the silver thread glistening in the first rays of moonshine. Her eyes glanced between Carapace and her yo-yo. None of her other teammates had made any connection through the comms which should have been a good sign, but Ladybug couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off. It was deadly silent, the only sound being that of a water droplet dripping from a nearby pipe.

"Carapace," Ladybug got her companion's attention. He hummed, telling her that he was listening. "Have you heard anything from anyone?"

"I haven't, it's dead silent on my end," Carapace replied, his worried eyes visible through his green visor. With his head, he gestured toward the gas cloud. "It's stopped moving." She furrowed her eyebrows and turned to the gas, her eyes squinting at the green monstrosity. The sudden static crackling in her ear made her jump and her hand went over to take the device out. The ringing stopped and Ladybug blinked in confusion, her eyes locked with Carapace's. Of course, they weren't the only ones who were confused.

"'Is everything alright over there?" Rena Rouge's concerned voice filtered through her earpiece. Ladybug instinctively moved her hand to answer when another voice stopped her.

"We have located the akuma on our side." The sound echoed in Ladybug's ears. Honey Bee's panicked tone was incredibly obvious and Ladybug nodded to Carapace before they both took off. The heroine then touched her comm.

"Status on the akuma," She commanded, jumping over a rooftop with Carapace close behind.

"Hostile, actively attacking us." Honey bee responded. "The akuma possesses long tentacle-like arms and they're heavy and strong enough to send you flying." The cut-off grunt from the heroine was heard.

"Keep the akuma in your area, we'll all make our way over there." Ladybug ordered, her fast pace barely being matched by Carapace's. Her eyes glanced at the cloud of green smoke, seemingly centred in an area near the Seine. Ladybug's gaze hardened as she tried to see the akuma from where she was. Then, another voice spoke.

"Viperion is down," Chieneux spoke into the communicator. Ladybug almost tripped in her shock. 

"Down? What the hell do you mean by down?!" Ryuko nearly yelled into the comms. Chieneux's voice was cut off as Ryuko spoke again. "Explique-toi déjà, putain! (Explain yourself already, damn it!)"

"Ryuko, I understand that you're feelin' upset but you gotta calm down," Carapace spoke, his voice repeated next to the spotted heroine. He looked in Ladybug's direction, a silent question in his eyes. "Was that- I mean, was it-" She nodded at him and he sighed in relief.

Ladybug reached for her earpiece. "Carapace is right, we'll deal with all of this after we defeat the akuma." She jumped down from a rooftop and ran towards Chieneux and Honey Bee, both of whom were avoiding the strong plant-like arms that swiped at them. Ladybug almost staggered at the scene. 

"Putain de merde! (Fucking shit!)" Carapace cursed, gaining the attention of not only the two blonde heroes but also the akuma. Then another tendril emerged from the green smoke and swiped at both Ladybug and Carapace. They both jumped out of the way as the akuma's arm smashed through a brick wall. "Merde (shit), my bad," Carapace muttered, looking over at the tendril, now stuck within the fallen rubble.

"That's how Viperion got injured." Honey Bee told Ladybug after jumping to her side. 

"He hit the wall head first," Chieneux added on, standing next to Carapace. "The smoke reached him before we could." The despair in the hero's voice was poorly hidden and the turtle-themed hero rubbed Chien's shoulder.

"Alright, we'll first focus on capturing the akuma. If we're able to reach Viperion we'll retrieve him." 'Or whatever is left of him' Ladybug pushed the morbid thought away. "When Ryuko and Rena get here, we'll then try and find out who this akuma is, we might be able to figure out how to defeat them." The heroes nodded and braced themselves. A green vine shot out from the gas towards Ladybug. She jumped up on impulse but another one appeared. It aimed straight for her neck, moving at a speed almost faster than a heartbeat. She braced for the impact. But it never came. Carapace had launched his shield at the vine and it sliced, landing on the ground. Ladybug landed on her feet and pulled out her yo-yo. "Thanks, Carapace."

"So, it can be sliced," Honey Bee observed, taking her spinning top and winding the string between her fingers. Carapace caught his shell and readied himself to throw it again. 

"It would seem-" Chieneux began to talk but he paused after he saw the sliced vine twitch. Two new tendrils then burst through the blunt end where Carapace's shield had cut the plant. It didn't waste any time and began swiping at the group. "Nevermind."

"How the hell do we defeat that thing if it's going to keep getting bigger?" Honey Bee questioned, throwing her spinning top at a nearby vine and slicing part of it off. Two new snake-like plants emerged. "See?!" she exclaimed.

Ladybug didn't respond and instead focussed on dodging the vines as best she could, using her yo-yo as a shield without cutting the plant. "We have to hold out until the other two get here, focus on defending yourself and only injure the vines as an absolute last resort." Another one of the Akuma's green arms came charging at Carapace as his back was turned. There was no time for thinking as she launched her yo-yo right at the vine, hitting it away from the green hero. The vine fell limp and Ladybug almost believed that there was a way to defeat it. Until it twitched and began moving away. However, it moved back into the green gas cloud. She could hear another tendril creep up behind Chieneux and before she could do anything about it, an orange flute intercepted and whacked the plant away.

"Thanks, Rena," Chienuex thanked the fox heroine before whacking another plant away.

Ryuko kicked a vine back into the green cloud of gas. "Any ideas Ladybug?"

She didn't answer for a moment and instead motioned for her team to back away. "Fall back. We need to get to the akumatized object, force the akuma out of the gas!" Ladybug wrapped her yo-yo around one of the earthy tendrils and pulled on it. The others nodded and worked their way backwards.

Ladybug could only hope that this would work

~~~

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock was distracting in a room with nothing but silence. Damian's class were doing a test, it wasn't one of those life-changing exams so Damian knew that there was no point in wondering what grade he got. He always got full marks. But of course, he still had to do the test. Actually, he had already completed the test five minutes ago with around half an hour to spare. He knew he couldn't go up to the teacher until he had checked his paper at least twice, so he checked it ten times. Everything was correct.

Damian closed the paper and peered down at it, resting his chin on his palm. He didn't understand why he had to wait for the others who didn't bother revising, it felt as though he was being punished for everyone else's lack of preparation. Nevertheless, he sulked in silence. But not for long. He counted a minute in his head. 

One, two, three. He traced the top of his pen over the bold text. Ten, eleven, twelve. Someone was clicking their pen and Damian sent a glare to the back of their head. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three. Funny enough, he caught almost everyone else in the class sending glares too, so much so that the person next to him gestured to knock it off. Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three. Two boys near the front were exchanging notes, he couldn't see what the contents were but they were presumably sharing answers. One of them softly snickered, catching the attention of the teacher. He began glancing at the students one by one, Damian chose to keep his head down, but the teacher's gaze was focused on him. Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three. Damian looked up, meeting his teacher's questioning eyes, obviously asking if he had seen anything. Damian sent him an unimpressed expression back, causing his teacher to sign and return to his desk,  his eyes back on the computer. Fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three. Damian looked over to his right and saw a student seemingly praying to a god, the exact same student that claimed they were atheist. Sixty.

Damian got up from his seat, paper in hand, and walked over to the teacher's desk. He sat at the very back of the class, this seat allowed him to get a full view of the students around him and whatever they could be up to. That way he could be certain that no one was watching him. But when he had to walk to the teacher's desk, he had to walk through the middle of the classroom, meaning that all eyes would be on him. Each step he took, the more he felt their hardened gazes, whether that be looks of annoyance or glances of desperation, begging him for answers. Damian would always ignore them.

He placed the paper on the teacher's desk and then turned away to go back to his seat.

"Did you check your answers?"

Damian inhaled sharply through his nose before turning back around. "Yes."

"Twice?" His teacher asked again.

"If any of my answers were incorrect, I wouldn't be handing you my paper," he answered, causing a few students behind him to snicker. The teacher looked at said students, unimpressed.

"Any more nonsense and you'll get an automatic fail." The students quickly shut up. He turned to Damian's paper and sighed. "Very well, you may return to your seat, Mr Wayne."

The boy nodded and went to his desk. The problem of not having anything to do arose again and Damian found himself reaching down to the phone in his pocket. But he stopped. Having nothing to do for the rest of the period was better than having his phone confiscated. So he glanced between the clock and the classroom window. The skies were grey with clouds, a normal sight in a city like Gotham. Every once in a while there would be a stray bird perched on a street light, but after a while, they would fly away. Damian took out his notebook from his backpack, flipping through the pages before landing on a blank one. His pencil began to draw aimlessly, he had no specific goal nor did he draw simple lines. And among the lines of pencil lead was the Eiffel Tower with two distinct figures sitting at the very top. Their faces could not be seen, their features were not distinguishable, and yet Damian knew who they were. 

"Sir? Damian isn't doing the test," a student near the front of the classroom had announced. Everyone else had then turned to him, Damian despised the smug look the student had. Surely they were listening when he said he was finished, or were they just not paying attention? 

The teacher rubbed his temples. "Yes, I am aware. Mr Wayne has finished the test so I suggest that you focus on your own paper rather than anyone else's." The student was seated at the front of the class, so if they really didn't see him turn in his paper then they would have had to physically turn around just to spy on him. They were obviously just trying to annoy him like they always do.

Damian stopped himself from sighing and instead rolled his eyes, he had gained too much attention in this lesson already. He wondered how he could pass the time. Fiddling with his pencil wasn't an option and other students would probably call him out if he were spotted on his phone, so he took his phone out because there was no way he would let them notice he had it on hand. Playing games on his phone was beneath him and he did not need to search for answers as he knew they were all correct. 'This so-called assessment was far too easy,' he thought to himself. 'Waiting for the others to finish is agonizing.'

"Damian." He looked up at the sound of his name. His teacher had his paper open. "You may spend the rest of this period in the library." The boy nodded and quickly gathered his things, swiftly exiting the classroom. Damian was thankful for the freedom and made his way to the library. Once entered, he made his way to a far and secluded corner. There he sat and pulled out his phone again. He knew that he had to tell Marinette about what his father was doing. Keeping his father's competition a secret would only cause problems later down the line. And so he sent a message.

Me: Hey Angel, how's your evening going?

He tapped a finger on the dark-wood table, unsure of how to bring about the conversation.

Me: If you haven't already seen the flyers, my father is hosting an annual competition. 

Me: And I'm just letting you know in advance that my father's company decide on the winner and there aren't any biased votes on my behalf. 

That was alright, wasn't it? He thought about sending another message on the matter but then saw that none of them had been delivered. 

Me: How has your day been?

Damian didn't fully expect an answer and instead tried to access one of the live akuma coverage links, to no avail. He switched the location on his phone to Paris and tried again. This time it opened but only to a freeze frame of green. Damian sucked in a breath. This was feeling much too familiar, a sense of dread that happened once before when Ladybug was...

He closed the link and gave Marinette a call. As expected, it went to voicemail.

"Hello Malaki, I know you're probably busy trying to resolve the current... situation so I'm just letting you know to reply to me in the morning. It'll be late by the time it's all finished." Damian glanced down at his hand, his thumb tracing over his finger where Plagg's ring once was. "I'll talk with you later, goodbye for now Angel. I miss you." He ended the call and sighed into his seat, putting his phone back in his pocket. He then got some assignments that had been in his backpack out and began working on them. They weren't due for another week or so but he had the time, so why not? It was also better to have his mind focussed on something other than the reality that his girlfriend was currently fighting an akuma.

He could only hope that they were doing well.

~~~

The akuma tirelessly lashed its arms at the heroes, the number of vines had increased each time one was slashed.  While her team were doing their best, Ladybug knew that they couldn't keep this up forever. Fighting in the dark with the moon as the only light source was obviously not helping them much either. The vines were swift predators while she and her team were the blinded prey.

"Have we brought the akuma out far enough?" Chieneux asked, smacking a vine away with his palm.

Ladybug shook her head. "We haven't seen anything other than the vines, Chieneux. We need to force it out of the gas. The dog-themed hero nodded and moved back when the plant lunged at him, making it move farther away from the green cloud. Ladybug, on the other hand, froze.

'The gas...' She took a few steady steps back, peering up at the massive wall of green that seemed to get taller. She blinked once, twice, and it indeed was getting taller. With her yo-yo wrapped around a nearby streetlight, Ladybug pulled herself onto the flat top to gain a better look at the cloud's movements. From her viewpoint, the cloud of gas had stopped engulfing Paris. However, it had begun heading to a different location; it was crawling towards them.

"Hey, Bug?" Rena Rouge called up to her from down below. "I think we have a problem." 

"Yeah, I can see it from up here," Ladybug responded, her gaze still focused on the clouds of gas. She then called upon her lucky charm and a matchbox fell into her palm. She looked around but there wasn't anything significant so she placed the small box inside her yo-yo for the time being. Ladybug readied herself to jump down when a large vine ripped through the gas, aimed right at her. While she was able to dodge the plant, she lost her footing and began plummeting to the ground. But in that split second, she saw through the empty passage that the vine had left behind. She saw something. Someone. A thing with a similar silhouette to that of a person, their right arm was the producer of the smog while her left was the core branch which all the vines stemmed from.

Ladybug twisted her body around to land on her feet when another vine emerged from the foggy barricade. Before she could move out of the way, a small, dark, being appeared in front of her. "Cataclysm!" It yelled, touching the vine with its tiny paw. The plant then turned black and disintegrated into a pile of dust.

"Thank you, Plagg." Ladybug smiled at the kwami and it floated to her.

"Anytime, Ladybug." Plagg stayed by Ladybug's side as she equipped her yo-yo once more. Chieneux moved back so that he was by her side.

"Think you could do that to all of them?" Chieneux asked.

Plagg hummed. "Unless I have food on hand to regain my energy than probably not. Don't suppose you have any camembert, kid?"

"Not since I got Barkk, no."

The kwami gasped and flew behind Ladybug's shoulder. She playfully rolled her eyes at their bickering but she was glad to have some escape from the situation. As Ladybug was trying to brainstorm an idea, Honey Bee came over.

"You'd think the akuma was a hydra with the way its vines are growing back," the heroine stated, trying to catch her breath. Ladybug blinked. She then took the matchbox out from her yo-yo and Honey Bee looked at it. "What are you going to do with that?" 

Ladybug glanced between the matchbox, her yo-yo, and Honey Bee's spinning top. Her eyes drifted off to both Ryuko and Carapace, and then to the final place where she saw the akuma.

"She knows what to do, doesn't she?" Honey Bee whispered to Chieneux, who nodded in response. Ladybug then spoke to all of her team.

"Alright, I've got a plan. Ryuko, you'll use your wind dragon to gather all the gas into one area, the akuma. As she's doing that, Honey Bee and I will tie the akuma's arms and if Rena or Chieneux could find a sharp tool, use that to cut the akuma's left arm. I'll set the gas on fire and Carapace, you summon a shelter to keep all of us safe," Ladybug ordered, taking out the horse miraculous from her yo-yo and merging the two transformations. "Is the plan clear?"

"Crystal," Rena Rouge replied and the others expressed their understanding through a vocal response or a simple nod. 

The newly-transformed Pegabug turned to Plagg. "Stay near me and don't use your cataclysm unless absolutely necessary." Only after the kwami, hesitantly, nodded did she begin the plan. "Whenever you're ready, Ryuko!" Pegabug called out. The heroine nodded and sheathed her sword. Then she began running towards the cloud of gas.

"Wind Dragon!" Ryuko shouted, turning into a gust of wind. She then began circling around to create a tornado that would trap the gas in one area. As the green smog began moving against Ryuko's winds, the akuma was unveiled and visible thanks to the moonlight. The akuma tried waving its right hand around but was left looking rather confused when the gas was stuck in one area and would not move in the direction it commanded it to. It then began swiping at the wind with its vines. Ladybug exploited the brief moment that the akuma was occupied and ran towards it, launching her yo-yo to wrap it around the akuma's left arm. Honey Bee quickly followed suit.

Rena Rouge went over to a nearby shop and smashed the largest window with her flute. The shattering startled the akuma out of its perplexed splendour and it began lashing out at the two heroines trying to tie it down. Swipe. Dodge. Swipe. Dodge. The pattern continued as they pulled the akuma's arms together. But it wasn't the fight that got Chieneux's attention. There was a dent in the wall decorated with crimson blood. The red liquid trailed down and Chieneux felt shivers run down his spine. Viperion's body was slumped forward, blood oozing out of the back of his head.

He had no time to think. Cheinuex sprinted to where Viperion was and picked him up. He ignored the bleeding. He ignored the burn marks on his face. He ignored the smell of burnt flesh. He only focused on one thing: getting his friend to safety. 

He carried Viperion in his arms, only stopping once he reached Carapace's side. "Merde," the hero murmured under his breath. Carapace opened his mouth to say something but it died in his throat. Instead, he looked away." Chienuex placed two fingers on Viperion's neck, then on his wrist, desperate to find a pulse. And he did.

"A pulse... I can feel a pulse!" Chieneux exclaimed.

"You did? Oh, thank-"

"It's weak, but he's not dead." The word 'yet' was not said, but it still lingered I'm their minds. Chieneux leaned in close to Viperion's ear. "Luka, if you can hear me, you have to hold on. You have to hold on, okay? You'll be healed soon." He looked up at Carapace, who glanced away. Rena came over, a large piece of glass in her free hand.

"I got the- oh purée (Oh my goodness)." The fox heroine clenched her stomach and a look of nausea took over her face. Carapace rushed to her side. "How did this even happen?"

"We didn't know the akuma had those tentacle vines, Viperion was struck while trying to locate his mother," Chienuex replied, gently lifting himself off the ground. "We have to focus on La- Pegabug's plan for now." She hesitantly nodded before turning in the direction of the akuma.

"We're ready over here!" She yelled. Pegabug nodded and looked up to where Ryuko was still circling the gas in her wind form.

"Get ready, Ryuko!" Pegabug and Honey Bee shared a nod and the heroine opened the matchbox in her hand while still tugging her yo-yo with all her strength to keep the akuma still. Once she had a match in her hand, she opened a portal. "Voyage!" From the corner of her eye, Pegabug could see Rena Rouge ready to throw the piece of glass and she could feel Ryuko's winds starting to slow.

Honey Bee quickly pulled her spinning top away. "Venom!" she stung the akuma's body and it stood still. The vines, however, kept moving. Pegabug placed the box in her mouth and quickly scratched the match on the side of it, sparking a flame. She looked up to give Ryuko a final warning before releasing the akuma's arm and dropping the lit match through the portal.

It all happened so fast. Rena Rouge launching the glass and slicing the vines. Ryuko transforming back into a person and diving for cover under Carapace's Shelter. She wasn't even sure if she heard him say it. She and Honey Bee managed to get under the green shield before the explosion reached them. But the heat was unbearable, it luckily only lasted a few seconds, a few minutes at most. The sound, however, left a ringing noise in their ears. Plagg himself was covering his ears, curled up into a tight ball next to Pegabug. Once it had all died down, Pegabug stood up from where she was lying on the ground and let her transformation with the horse miraculous fall. She began to approach Carapace who was now shaking. 

"It's ok, Nino," Ladybug said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You can let the shield fall now, we're safe." Carapace looked up and with a heavy sigh, the shelter came crumbling down. Rena Rouge rushed to his side and Ryuko nearly sprinted to where Viperion was laying on the ground. 

"He'll die, Ladybug... he'll die," Ryuko's voice was a quiet plea. The dragon-themed heroine looked up at her. Ladybug took a breath, exchanged a glance with the black kwami who floated next to her head and knelt on the other side of Viperion's body. 

She placed her open palms on his head and focused all her energy on keeping him alive. She didn't have the experience to fully heal him, nor was she in the physical shape to do so, but she could stop him from dying. Ladybug slowly pulled her hand away from his head and placed them on his wrist. She let out a sigh of relief as his heart rate slowly started to reach a healthy speed. The black kwami left her side and picked up a pebble. Ladybug caught sight of this and shook her head. Plagg gave her a desolate look and placed the small rock down, floating back to her. Her eyes returned to Ryuko.

"He'll make it, Ryuko. Don't worry," Ladybug told her, but her words weren't much comfort so she let them be. She walked over to Chieneux and Honey Bee, both of whom were standing by the akuma. Plagg wasn't too far behind, but he stayed silent. It was still frozen in place but the vines were nowhere to be seen. Ash clouded the skies and it fell like black snow.

"Why the explosion?" Chieneux asked, his arms crossed.

"Twelve Labours of Heracles, the Lernaean Hydra. It was the first thing that came to mind," Ladybug replied, walking passed him and searching for the akumatized object.

"The hydra was a water-based creature, this akuma was a plant-based," He responded.

"It worked, didn't it? Isn't that all that matters?" Ladybug turned back to him, her arms gesturing to the falling dust.

"And what if it didn't?" She stepped away from the akuma and moved to Chieneux.

"Why question fate when it has already worked in our favour?" She looked him straight in the eye. "You'd only be tempting it, and we don't have time to deal with unnecessary bad luck." Chieneux looked away and Plagg purposefully avoided eye contact. Ladybug moved back to the akuma and Honey Bee handed her a pin, one shaped like a hydra. Ladybug smashed it to the ground. A purple butterfly emerged and she caught it with her yo-yo, letting the creature go after it had been purified. Plagg seemed slightly offended that he wasn't the one to break it but he said nothing, again. Chieneux noticed the polka-dotted matchbox on the ground and took it.

"I guess it's best to wrap this up," he murmured as he gave it to her.

She nodded and threw the box up. "Miraculous Ladybug." Hundreds of ladybugs covered the city, clearing the air of ashes and healing all the Parisians affected by the akuma, including Viperion. As the light died down, Ladybug picked up the now-fixed pin off of the ground and walked to the civilian. "I believe this belongs to you."

The civilian was a young boy, he couldn't be older than ten. He looked up at Ladybug, carefully taking the pin out of her palm. "Yeah, it was my Papa's," the boy whispered. "But he got sick and... Maman said he's in the skies now." Chieneux stepped next to the heroine, kneeling down so he was at eye-level with the kid. 

"I know it's rough right now and that it may seem like it will stay that way forever, but it really won't." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and gave him a comforting smile. The boy, however, frowned and pulled away.

"How do you know?" He asked.

"Because I lost a parent too, my Mère," Chienuex answered. "She got sick and passed away, so I understand how you feel." A year ran down the boy's face and Chienuex wiped it away. "You have every right to be upset but I want you to think about how your father would want you to live. Do you think he'd want you to be sad?"

The boy sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "Papa always said that I should live life free and happy but not to ignore my hardships because those are what milder me into who I am now."

"Your Papa had wise words," Chienuex smiled. "You should follow his advice."

Ladybug sat down next to him. "Look up at the skies, do you see anything interesting?"

The boy was silent for a few minutes. "The stars."

She smiled. "You know, my Maman used to tell me that every star in the sky is a soul that used to live on earth. And that each soul was watching and guiding us." The boy looked between the sky and Ladybug before his eyes were fixed on something, and he gasped.

"That star!" The boy pointed towards the sky. "That one must be my Papa!" He reached his hand out in the direction of a particularly bright star in the night sky. "I just want to touch it."

Ladybug continued. "My Maman also said that no matter how far you reach, or how high you can climb. You won't be able to touch the stars because they're too far away."

"So I can't reach my Papa?"

Ladybug shook her head. The boy's shoulders drooped. "But, he is always with you. The stars will always shine."

He looked at Ladybug, then to Chienuex, and then finally back to the night sky. "I think I understand."

"Harvey!" They looked over at the sound of the voice.

"Your brother is Maxime?" Chienuex asked and the boy, whose name was now revealed to be Harvey, nodded. Maxime ran up to them, a worried expression on his face and Ladybug stood up.

"Harvey, Maman and I have been worried sick!" Maxime placed his hands on his younger brother's face, checking for injuries.

"I became an akuma," Harvey spoke nonchalantly. His older brother froze and turned to the heroine, who nodded. The teen sighed.

"I'm really sorry about any trouble that's been caused," Maxime apologized, running a hand through his little brother's hair. The guilt was clear on his face. 

"Emotions are part of human nature," Ladybug replied "Hawkmoth is a cruel man for choosing to exploit them." Chieneux nodded before standing up.

"Take care little guy, your big brother and your mother are here for you," Chienuex ruffled the boy's hair.

"And if you ever feel alone, you can always reach up to the stars. Your Papa will always be there," Ladybug whispered with a smile. The boy finally smiled back. "But be careful not to fly too close because-"

"The wax in your wings will melt" they both finished the sentence together.

"My Papa would always say that. The myth of Icarus and Daedalus," The boy gushed. 

Ladybug give the boy a small hug before he left with Maxime. Chieneux stepped forward to be in line with her. Plagg floated over from where he was previously, sitting comfortably on her shoulder. She smiled at the kwami and then looked behind her, Viperion was now fully conscious and was hugging Ryuko. The dog-themed hero let out a sigh of relief. "Viperion's fine-"

"We need to talk."

Chieneux froze and turned to her. "What?"

Ladybug met his gaze. "I said we need to talk." She didn't give him the chance to speak as she began walking back to where the other heroes were. Plagg didn't say anything and somehow didn't fall off her shoulder despite the pace she was moving at. She reached them fairly quickly but Chienuex, on the other hand, still stood in shock, only making his way back to the others once he realised he was standing alone. 

"Viperion, you alright?" Chieneux asked the moment he was in earshot. The snake-themed hero smiled and stood up, wobbling slightly and having to lean onto Ryuko.

"I will be," Viperion reassured, taking a breath.

"I think it'll be best to rest for the night," Ladybug told them all, more specifically to Viperion. Plagg nodded and Ladybug herself was surprised at how long he stayed quiet. 

Rena Rouge nodded. "It's Friday tomorrow, which means we still have school." She yawned, sheathing her flute. Despite being tired, Rena wasn't blind to the growing tension between Ladybug and Chieneux and from the looks on the others' faces, they weren't either. Carapace was the first to break the tension.

"I'll be going straight home," he said. "It's late and I haven't left anything at the hotel." Some of the others nodded. "So... see you dudes and dudettes later!" And with that, Carapace left, jumping up onto a roof and travelling away.

"I left some things in Chloe's room so I should probably go get them," Rena mentioned as he left, chuckling nervously. 

Honey Bee nodded. "I should go with you then." After a quick wave, they both left, leaving the other four heroes behind. But not for too long though.

"A lot's happened today," Viperion began. "I just want to go home and rest."

"I'll help you back to the boat," Ryuko suggested a soft smile on her face. Viperion smiled back.

"You two get going then." Ladybug stepped towards Viperion and Plagg floated off her shoulder, hovering in the air just behind her. "Sleep well, yeah?" Viperion agreed with a nod. She tried to smile but in that instance, she believed that Viperion didn't deserve to be treated as though nothing happened. "Viperion, I'm so sorry."

He let out a shaky laugh. "It's alright bug, I'll be alright." Luka was always good at hiding his emotions, Viperion was no different. After seeing his words had no effect on the heroine, he gave her a hug. "I swear on it, I'll be fine."

Ladybug hummed, returning the hug. "I'll check up on you."

"Goodnight, Melody," he whispered.

"You too."

They then let go and Viperion left in the direction of his mother's boat with Ryuko following close behind. Now it was just Ladybug and Chieneux, the original duo except that one carried a new miraculous.

"Ladybug..." He was curious but he didn't want to force the conversation to happen.

"Let's go and de-transform somewhere near the hotel," Ladybug said as she turned to face him. "We'll have time to speak." Chienuex nodded and followed as she used her yo-yo, Plagg easily keeping up as she travelled at great speed. They soon reached an alleyway and dropped down. Ladybug dropped her transformation first and opened her purse, taking a macaron for Tikki to eat. The red kwami didn't have time to take a single bite before Plagg grabbed her by the arm and dragged them both into Marinette's purse. The girl shot Plagg a questioning look but closed her bag anyway. She looked back and Chieneux and he let his transformation fall.

"Am I in trouble?" Adrien asked as Barkk floated onto his shoulder. Marinette tilted her head in confusion.

"What? No, of course not," She answered and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why did you think that?"

"Mon dieu, Marinette (My god, Marinette)," Adrien exasperated, dragging a hand down his face. "You scared the crap out of me with that stern voice of yours." He then laughed at his nervousness.

"Oh, sorry," Marinette chuckled. "I didn't mean to make you worried, that was my mistake."

"No, no-," Adrien waved his hands in front of him, "-it's fine, I'm just curious... what did you want to talk about?"

Marinette crossed her arms and leaned against the brick wall. "It's just... I feel as though what happened to Viperion was my fault."

"Mari, it really wasn't," Adrien tried to reassure her but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I feel like it is, you and the others are my responsibility. I asked them all to be a part of this, I put them in danger. They shouldn't have to deal with this," She muttered, her eyes focussed on the ground.

"You didn't ask me-"

"Not as Chat Noir, but I asked you to return. There isn't much difference," Marinette interrupted him, her eyes locking with him. Adrien frowned and stepped forward.

"But we all accepted to be a part of the fight, we all knew of the consequences and we accepted anyway. Because we want to help you, we trust in you and we want to protect Paris." Adrien placed his hands on her shoulders. "We want to defeat Hawkmoth by your side."

Marinette smiled up at him and looked away. "I made this about me again. I really should stop that..." she trailed off and before Adrien could get a word in, she spoke. "This isn't what I wanted to talk about."

"Well, what do you want to talk about?" Adrien smiled, bringing his hands back to his sides and stepping away.

"I think it would be the best decision, and Plagg would agree with me on this, if you used the Black Cat Miraculous again." Immediately after she finished her statement, Plagg shot up from her purse and Barkk floated off Adrien's shoulder.

"What?!" The dog kwami screeched.

Plagg floated next to Marinette's head. "Yes, that's that would be the best decision."

"I barely get my user and the cat tries to steal him again?" Barkk complained. "I can't have this, I'm not having this."

"Oh, but you must, Pup," Plagg spoke, feigning empathy.

"What about your chosen, huh? Why can't you just go to him?" Barkk flew right into the cat kwami's face, practically spitting at it.

"Don't get me wrong, I adore my owner. He's absolutely purr-fect," Plagg began and Barkk frowned at the pun. "But Loverboy isn't here and Pigtails would benefit from having her miraculous' other half present." The black kwami shrugged and Barkk scowled because she knew that Plagg had a point.

"Alright you both, calm down," Marinette finally told them. Barkk huffed and flew back next to Adrien while Plagg slowly floated back to be in line with Marinette. She then looked back at the blond. "We've seen how difficult it was without Nuit Noir when it was just Mayura, but now Hawkmoth's back. It's not going to be easy." 

"Yes, I know that." His words seemed like an automated response like he was still processing what was just said.

"You don't have to accept, it's just a suggestion." The moon caught her attention. "We can talk about this as we walk back." Adrien nodded and Barkk made herself comfy in his pocket. Plagg disappeared into Marinette's purse where Tikki was resting. They then walked in silence, their footsteps being the only sound. It was peaceful, but she needed an answer. "So, what do you think?"

"I'd like to but..." Adrien glanced away for a moment, his hands in his pants pockets. 

"But what?" She pressed further and he sighed.

"What about Damian?" Adrien clarified, glancing at the ground. "Shouldn't you check with him first? I mean... it is his miraculous." He seemed to grow quieter at the end and Marinette gentler tapped his shoulder with hers.

"Damian's far from stupid, he knows how important balance is and he'd advice for Plagg's miraculous to be used in his absence," Marinette told the boy next to her. "And I know that you'd be his first and only choice."

Adrien froze in his steps. "You... you really think that?"

"I really do," she whispered. Of course, Adrien was still hesitant. "If you're still not convinced, I can check with him now, if you want?" Marinette suggested and Adrien nodded.

"If you don't mind?" He asked sheepishly.

"Not at all." She took her phone out and tried turning it on. The screen stayed black and she hummed. "The battery's dead."

"Oh," Adrien muttered. "It's alright I think I... can contact him later."

Marinette lit up and put her phone back in her purse. "You sure?"

He nodded his head but there was still hesitation in his eyes. "I'd love to have Plagg again, I really do, but you thought of that elaborate plan to retire Chat and I'm just afraid that using his miraculous now will erase all that hard work."

"We can worry about all that later." She placed a hand on his shoulder. The sound of a car caught their attention and their eyes landed on a familiar silver car. "Looks like you have to go."

"Yeah, looks like it," Adrien replied and he turned to face her. Marinette reached forward to give him a hug. 

"Talk to Damian and I'll talk to him once I charge my phone," She whispered. "Remember, you don't have to accept all of this."

"I know," Adrien replied. "Get home safe." He pulled away and stepped towards the car. Marinette watched and waved as the car drove off. Once it was out of sight, she turned towards the building she was in front of, the hotel. When she entered the lobby, she saw Jagged and Juleka mid-conversation.

"Oh, Nettie, you're alright." Jagged let out a sigh of relief as she walked over. Juleka smiled and gave a single wave, clearly happy at the fact that she was alright. "Have you seen Luka? Is he alright?"

"Yes, he is." She nodded and Jagged was visibly relieved, Juleka too. "He went home already," Marinette added. "I think he thought that Juleka was already home so he left."

Jagged made an 'oh' shape with his mouth and then nodded. "I see." He turned to his daughter. "I guess I'll see you later then?"

The girl nodded and gave Jagged a hug. "See you another time, father," Juleka told him and he hummed.

"You bet. And stay safe." He pulled away and waved as she walked away. Marinette also waved Juleka goodbye. "I'm guessing that you're going to your friend's room?" Jagged asked and she nodded.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to Alya before going home," Marinette explained and the man smiled.

"We can go together then, I think I'll retire for the night." Jagged and Marinette began walking to the lift and there was one waiting for them. They both pressed separate buttons and remained in silence as the lift began to move. Then in the silence, Jagged sighed.

"Is there something wrong?" Marinette asked with her head tilted slightly. 

"It's just," He leaned against the elevator wall, his arms crossed. "Do you think I'm doing enough?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sure you already know about my estranged relationships with my kids," Jagged began and Marinette was surprised to see him so serious. "How I left Anarka after she found out she was pregnant. How I left her to raise them on her own. How they never knew that I was the father until a while ago."

"Yeah, I know about that," She replied quietly.

"Well, I don't think their mother has told them why," Jagged looked over at one of the walls in the lift, his eyes glossed over as if he were reminiscing a certain memory. An argument maybe? Something that seemed to upset him. Marinette stepped closer to him. "And I don't think I should tell them."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't feel forced to." Jagged looked back at her, a worried expression on his face.

"Do you think I'm doing enough? I know there's nothing I can do to repay them for making them live a childhood without a father," He got his words out in a hurry and muttered the last few. "I'm trying my best but I don't think I'm being the best for them."

"I think you should have this conversation with Luka and Juleka," Marinette suggested and Jagged exhaled. But Marinette continued. "But I've seen how you are with them, I can tell you're doing your best." Jagged smiled and brought her close into a hug.

"Thank you, Nettie," he whispered.

"No need to thank me, Uncle Jay," Marinette whispered back and as they pulled away, the elevator doors opened. 

"This is where I get off," Jagged walked out and turned back to face her. "Night, Nettie."

"Goodnight Jagged," Marinette waved and then the doors closed. She closed her eyes and let her head rest on the wall behind her. It didn't take too long for the doors to open again and she stepped out. Marinette began walking down the hallway, passing a few doors before she heard the faint sound of two people talking. She followed it and sure enough, it led to Chloe's room. Marinette knocked on the door and the conversation stopped in an instant.

"Give me a second Mari!" She heard Alya shout from behind the door. So she waited. There were shuffling noises and very shushed voices. It left Marinette very confused. Marinette counted to around thirty in her head before the door finally opened. "Hey, Marinette!" Alya greeted suspiciously exclaimed. Marinette raised an eyebrow at her best friend. "Je cherchais mes lunettes. Enfin bref, elles étaient sur mon nez. (I was looking for my glasses. Anyway, they were on my nose). Shall we go?" The girl spoke quickly. Marinette only caught a slight glimpse of Chloe before Alya shut it in her face.

"You do realise just how suspicious you look right now?" Marinette teased with a smile. Alya nervously chuckled.

"Am not," she responded defensively, placing her arm over Marinette's shoulder and leading her back to the elevator. "I thought you'd be going straight home?"

"No I... wanted just to be with you for a bit," Marinette muttered, slightly turning her head to Alya. 

The girl's face grew concerned. "There's something on your mind isn't there?"

"How did you know?" Marinette laughed but it was only to lighten the mood. 

"I can see it in your eyes, Marinette. Something's bothering you," Alya murmured, stopping her steps to look at her best friend properly. "So, what is it?"

Marinette frowned and glanced away. "I'm just worried about Luka," she stated. "He nearly died." Memories from the nightmare she had began to flood her mind, but she shook her head in an attempt to push them away.

"Why don't you send him a message? Or call him?" Alya suggested. Marinette took out her phone from her purse and showed her that it was at 0%. "I can call him then." She nodded and Alya took her phone out. After pressing on Luka's name, the phone began to ring. Then he picked up.

"Hello Alya, you need something?" His voice seemed normal. Had Marinette not known about what happened during the akuma attack then she would've thought nothing of it.

"Hey Luka," Marinette greeted him. "My phone died so Alya let me talk to you on hers." Alya said a small 'hi'. "Did you get home safe?"

Luka chuckled. "Yes I did, Mari. Gami's taking extra care of me, although I told her there's no need." In the background, Marinette could hear Kagami's voice but it was too far away to distinguish any real words.

"I'm glad." She let out a sigh of relief and the sound of Kagami's footsteps got louder.

"Don't worry, Mari-hime, I'll make sure he's alright." The worry in her voice was well-hidden, Marinette was almost fooled. Almost.

"Okay, you both get some rest tonight. There's still school tomorrow, remember?" She tried to keep her voice light and since no one, not even Alya, called her out on it, Marinette assumed it was convincing. "Goodnight you both."

"Goodnight, Marinette," They both said in unison before Alya ended the call.

"So," Alya began. "How do you feel now?" Marinette thought for a moment before answering.

"Better," she finally answered and Alya nodded with a smile.

"That's good." She then looked at the time. "We should go back home." Marinette hummed in agreement and they called for the lift, stepping in once it had arrived. 

Everything else happened in a quick blur. Leaving the elevator, walking out of the hotel, waving goodbye and parting ways, now Marinette was on her way home. The bakery came into view and the bell above the door rang as it was opened. She took her shoes off and left them at the door, putting her house shoes on and walking up the stairs. The soothing sound of the television and her parents talking nearly lulled her to sleep. Marinette just reached the bottom of the stairs to her bedroom before her mother took notice of her presence.

"Oh, Marinette!" her mother jumped up from the couch and rushed to Marinette. Sabine placed her hands on Marinette's face to inspect her daughter. "We were so worried after the akuma attack."

"I'm fine Maman," She replied quickly and Sabine pulled her hands away. "What about you both? Were you caught in the gas?" Her father approached them both and gave Marinette a hug.

"The gas didn't get through the doors or windows, we were lucky," he responded and he exhaled. "We're just glad you're alright." He pulled away and smiled. "Did you have a good dinner with Jagged and your friends, ma chérie (my dear)?" Tom asked, changing the subject and she nodded. "That's good."

Sabine placed her hand on her daughter's cheek once more. "You look tired bǎo bèi." Marinette smiled at the nickname. "Go sleep."

Marinette nodded and left to go up to her bedroom. She closed the door and flopped onto her chaise with a sigh. Both Plagg and Tikki emerged from her purse. The cat kwami spoke first. "Pigtails, what you did to help Luka, while admirable, was dangerous and it'll affect you." He spoke with a worried tone. "You should've just let me cataclysm that rock so that it would've lessened the consequence."

"You already used your cataclysm earlier, it would've taken a big toll on you, especially since there isn't anyone currently wearing your miraculous," Marinette argued, sitting up. "Thank you for offering, though."

"He's right Marinette," Tikki chimed in, floating in front of her user's face. "The output of creation without some form of destruction from Plagg's miraculous will harm your body." Marinette frowned and stood up, her heart felt heavy.

"I'll just have to get ready for whatever happens then," she murmured, mostly to herself, as she walked over to her desk and charged her phone. Marinette then walked over to her closet, taking out some pyjamas to change into. 

She took off the clothes she wore during the dinner and slipped into the clothes she picked out. Then she walked back downstairs, placing her clothes in a basket before going to the bathroom and brushing her teeth. As she placed her toothbrush back, a slight burning in her chest began to ensue. Marinette stiffened and swiftly made her way back to her bedroom, picking up the glass of water on her desk. She hoped it was something like heartburn or just a stomach ache, but deep down she knew that the pain only came from where Guerrier's blade had struck her skin. The sensations of pain became frequent enough that she had some painkillers in her room, not like they made that much of a difference.

"Marinette?" Tikki hesitantly questioned when she saw the girl gulping down some pills with water. She placed the cup down with a heavy clank.

"I was not ready Tikki," Marinette painfully laughed, her fake amusement ending in a sob. "I was not ready at all." Tikki floated over with Plagg not so far behind, the concern mirrored in both of their faces. The black kwami hugged her cheek as Tikki began talking.

"It won't last forever Marinette," The kwami began. "You have to pull through the pain, we're here." She then hugged her owner's other cheek.

"Thank you, Tikki. Thank you Plagg." Marinette smiled but the pain in her chest was getting worse every second. A tear fell down her cheek and right onto Plagg, but he didn't say anything. Then the pain skyrocketed.

She gasped, the room was spinning, everything went blurry and her head began pounding like a drum. Somehow, Marinette managed to find her way onto her bed. Once her head hit the pillow, she turned to her side and curled into a tight ball, tears streaming down her face as Marinette bit down onto her pillow to conceal the fact that she was in pain. The other kwamis from the miracle box emerged and spread Marinette's blanket over her. Plagg and Tikki rested on either side of her pillow worriedly watching over their guardian, both knowing that there was nothing they could do. They were powerless to stop her suffering, and Marinette knew she was helpless. 

So she just laid there, hoping to somehow fall asleep. Marinette didn't notice her pillow get warmer with every tear. She didn't notice how her phone screen lit up the room. She didn't notice how her parents went into her room to see if she was asleep. 

All she noticed was pain. She had no choice but to notice.

~~~

The drive back to his house was quiet. It always was. When Adrien arrived home, he briefly looked into his father's office, and then in the dining room. There wasn't anyone there. He sighed, but it was expected. Adrien went up to his room, pausing for a brief moment when he heard the sound of conversation. But there was nothing. He continued walking. The second he closed his bedroom door, Barkk flew out from his pocket.

"The cat miraculous? I can't believe it," she complained as Adrien began to walk over to his desk. "I only just became your kwami and now he wants to get you back." Barkk sounded half genuine, half playful.

Adrien chuckled. "You're still my kwami, Barkk. Here-" he pushed a plate of fruits towards her. "-you haven't tried these yet." The kwami gasped and picked up a slice of fruit that was pink and had small black seeds.

"What's this one?" She asked curiously, inspecting the fruit.

"It's dragonfruit," Adrien replied, sitting down on his chair. "But this time, it's pink." Barkk hummed before eating the entire slice. He waited for his kwami to be finished before he continued speaking. "Barkk?"

"Yes?" 

"Do you remember what Luka said earlier? Before we went off to fight the akuma?" He looked intently at the kwami as she tilted her head in thought.

"When he said to open your eyes?" Barkk questioned.

"Yes that's the one," Adrien confirmed and moved his chair closer. "What do you think he means?" He stared at Barkk, waiting for her answer as she thought up a thought. 

"Well from everything you've told me, and from the knowledge I have from being with Marinette, he says you're blind," Barkk told him flatly, taking another piece of fruit. Adrien, on the other hand, looked very confused so she elaborated. "You focus too much on what's presented to you. Luka is saying that you should begin to look beneath the surface and not to accept what you see at face value as the true answer."

"Why is that?" He asked, crossing his arms. "I don't need to find out about people's personal lives, and I don't have to if I already know them."

"Adrien, all you humans only display what you want to. There could be so much that happens in their minds and in their eyes but you listen to their words and you only see how they present themselves," Barkk sighed and left the plate of fruits, floating up to Adrien's face. "Do you want an example?"

He nodded. "Yes?" His words came out as a question but Barkk continued.

"Marinette," she told him.

"Marinette?" Adrien sounded confused, he was confused. "What could she be hiding? She's a truthful person."

"Yes but not once have you taken notice of her true thoughts when it comes to you," Barkk spoke lowly, she was about to reveal some information so she might as well prepare herself for his reaction. "She had a crush on you for the longest time, Adrien."

Adrien froze, a shocked look on his face. "What? No. She only ever saw me as a friend."

"Did she really? Or did you say that she was a friend so much that it was the only thing you believed?" Adrien's eyes widened when Barkk finished speaking and he leaned forward in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face.

"I... I don't know," he finally whispered and the emotion on his face was soon replaced with realisation. "Wait, so she had a crush on me all that time?" When Barkk nodded, Adrien sighed and let himself fall back into his chair. "I'm so stupid."

"I wouldn't say stupid," Barkk hummed. "Rather blind, just as Luka described." She floated back to the plate of fruits as Adrien sulked in his chair.

"I really am blind," he murmured before his eyes widened. "Also I'm not going to pursue Marinette, she's happy with Damian and Damian's happy with her. I'm not going to go in between them." He swivelled around in his chair, towards his computer.

"Good, now don't you have something to do?" Barkk questioned, referring to his call with Damian.

"I think he gave me his number after that sleepover we all had," Adrien mumbled, mostly to himself. "I'll message him." Adrien began typing on his computer, sending a text to Damian and was taken aback when he got a reply straight away. "That was quick, did Marinette mention what the time difference between here and Gotham was?"

Barkk narrowed her eyes in thought. "Six hours."

"So it's around four over there, okay," Adrien worked out before typing another message. Barkk flew over onto his shoulder. "I'm asking to video chat because I don't think this conversation should be done over text."

"I think that's a good idea," Barkk responded and Adrien sent a video call request. It got accepted and soon there was a teen with black hair and green eyes sitting at his desk in front of the screen.

"Bonsoir, Agreste, tu as besoin de moi pour quelque chose? (Hello, Agreste, do you need me for anything?)" Damian asked and Adrien glanced awkwardly off-screen.

"Yes, actually. It has something to do with Plagg and your miraculous." Damian seemed to sit up straighter even though Adrien wasn't sure how that was possible.

"Is he being a nuisance?" He asked half-heartedly and Adrien chuckled while shaking his head.

"No he's not," Adrien replied and there was a look in Damian's eyes, like his eyes could talk while his mouth was shut. "Marinette would've told you earlier but her phone was dead so..." He trailed off and Damian was about to start speaking when someone opened the door to his room. Adrien watched as a boy with black hair and blue eyes walked around the room. Damian and the boy began speaking in English.

"What do you need?" Damian asked the newcomer and he beamed at him. Adrien was almost taken aback by the image on the screen, two polar opposites.

"Just my notebook, you can go back to what you're doing," the boy replied waving him off. Damian tutted and turned back to face Adrien. It was easy to see that Damian was more relaxed now, like he was with Marinette. Adrien didn't feel too offended, if anything he was glad the new person came in to break the tension.

"Continue talking, he doesn't know French," Damian told him and Adrien raised an eyebrow. Seeing this, Damian closed his eyes and took a breath. "Jon, tu es mon meilleur ami (Jon, you are my best friend)."

The boy didn't look up and was still searching for the notebook. Though Adrien watched as he glanced at the screen, his eyes hardened on the computer as if he were trying to see who Damian was on a call with. Damian raised his hand in a 'see?' motion. The blond hummed. "Do you not tell him that already?"

"No, no I do not," Damian replied and Adrien didn't feel too surprised. Then the boy picked up a book like it was the key to solving every problem in life. "Did you find it?" He sounded sarcastic.

The boy nodded and walked over to where Damian was sitting. "Yep I did, it was just- oh," the boy paused when his eyes landed on the screen. "...hello," the boy greeted somewhat nervously.

"Kent, this is Agreste, one of Marinette's friends in Paris," Damian introduced and Adrien waved, a smile on his face. The boy (Kent? No, Jon) waved back a bit awkwardly.

"It's uh... nice to meet you," Jon spoke slowly, his cheeks turning the lightest shade of red. "I think I hear my mother calling me. Nice to meet you- I already said that, sorry. See you later!" Adrien watched as he rushed out of the room and was left slightly confused, did he do something to offend him? If anything, Jon was similar to Marinette in terms of awkwardness. 

"He isn't usually like that," Damian murmured, looking quite amused. But then a switch went off in his head and a serious expression returned onto his face. "As you were saying?"

"Okay..." A shuffled in his seat. "Well about the miraculous," he began "Today there was an akuma attack."

"Hawkmoth returned." It wasn't a question but Adrien still nodded, his eyes trailing off to the globe near his desk.

"It was this massive attack and we almost lost a teammate," the blond spoke in a low voice and when his eyes returned to the screen, he was surprised at the lack of true emotion on Damian's face. It was scary, seeing him so composed and appearing as though he was just thinking. "Luka."

"How is he now?" Damian carefully asked.

"He says that he's fine, but how true that is? I'm not sure." Adrien shook his head. "To the point... Marinette suggested that I use... your miraculous." His words were slow, he wasn't sure how Damian would react.

Damian remained silent for some time, his eyes showing that he was deep in thought. Then, he spoke. "What did you say?" 

"I wanted to contact you first," Adrien replied and he took a breath. "I wanted to know what you would say."

"What do you think you should do?" Damian leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. 

"But Damian-"

"I already know what my thoughts are, I want to know yours," He interrupted. Adrien briefly glanced down at his computer's keyboard. 

"In all honesty, I think I... should use your miraculous. The akuma today was brutal and I think it would be better to have both the ladybug and the cat miraculous being active. But-" Adrien lifted a finger. "-I will not take it if you don't want me to. The miraculous is yours after all."

Damian hummed and leaned forward in his chair. "I agree with you."

"What?" Adrien asked out loud.

"I said I agree with you," he repeated. "With Hawkmoth back, the battles will become increasingly difficult and the cat miraculous will be needed."

Adrien frowned at his answer. "But how do you feel about it?"

"What I feel doesn't matter when I'm not the emotion you're battling," Damian told him. He rested his folded arms on the desk. "If anything, I'd be offended if there wasn't anyone using the miraculous."

"I don't believe you and I'm saying this with all my honesty." Adrien peered down at his fidgeting palms and Damian's features softened.

"Adrien, I am also being honest. And in my honesty I'll say this, you are my first and only choice when it comes to who holds my miraculous other than Marinette herself," Damian's voice was low, soft, almost comforting. Adrien felt himself going back to the times when his mother would talk to him when he was upset. "It would be an honour to have the miraculous be used by my predecessor."

"I... do you think so?" Adrien murmured and Damian nodded.

"I don't show it but I have great respect for you, just like I do with my brothers," Damian responded. "So believe me when I say, I want you to use my miraculous."

Adrien's eyes widened and after a few moments of silence, he spoke. "Thank you, Damian."

"I'll send a message to Marinette, you get some rest," Damian replied. Adrien nodded and he bid the boy goodbye. Once he ended the call, he turned away from the computer and ran a hand down his face.

He let out a sigh. "Thank the heavens for that."

"I can't believe he agreed to let Plagg have you," Barkk muttered under her breath. Noticing that Adrien heard her, she changed the subject. "So that friend that Damian had around, Jon, what did you think of him?"

"Why do you ask?" He questioned and the kwami hummed.

"I'm just curious, and curiosity killed the cat so..." Barkk laughed to herself and he sighed with a smile. "So? What do you think?" 

Adrien tilted his head in thought. "He reminds me of Marinette."

"How so?" Barkk pressed, a knowing smile on her face.

"His eyes remind me of hers," He muttered. "And... the way he was acting reminded me of her too."

"Elaborate, please," the kwami spoke, placing her now-empty plate on the coffee table in front of Adrien's television.

"Well, he struggled a bit with his words," the blond began. "And he got a bit red in the face."

Barkk hummed. "And Damian said he didn't usually act like that, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct," Adrien confirmed hesitantly, eyeing the kwami as he wasn't sure what the kwami was trying to imply. 

"Well, we kwamis can't feel love to the extent that humans can, but-" the kwami floated up to his face, "I think he fancies you."

"What?!" Adrien exclaimed, bewildered. "Why do you think that?"

"Because..." Barkk began in a singsong voice. "That's how Marinette used to act with you."

Adrien froze. "Did she?"

"Yes, so that's why I believe this Jon likes you," Barkk finished, floating over to a pillow on Adrien's bed and getting comfortable. "Or at the very least, is somewhat interested in you."

"I don't know," Adrien whispered mainly to himself as he got up from his chair. "We only just met and we're probably looking too much into it." Barkk hummed as she curled herself into the pillow. Adrien looked over and smile to himself. "Goodnight Barkk." The kwami was already fast asleep.

He moved to get some clothes to sleep in but the thought of Jon lingered at the back of his mind.

'His eyes,' Adrien thought. 'His demeanour.'

'He's so much like Marinette...' 

Adrien tensed. "Jeez," he muttered to himself rubbing his face. "I can't get her out of my head." He looked out of his large window, gazing up at the stars. "You wouldn't know it Marinette, but everybody wonders what it would be like to love you." Adrien smiled solemnly to himself. "It probably would've been sweet if it were me."

He took a step towards the glass, placing an open palm on it. "But you deserve the best, and the best is Damian." Adrien moved back. "You both are so perfect for each other."

"I'm sure he knows what it's like."

His words held no jealousy, no envy, nothing to wish misfortune on their names. He only spoke the truth, with nothing but contentment in his heart. But why did his heart hurt so much? And whenever Jon came into his mind, why was the image of the blue-eyed girl the first thing that came to mind?

Adrien pushed both Jon and Marinette away from his mind; he didn't want to hurt anyone and this included himself. Of course, no thought can be contained just like that.

'I wonder, what's Jon like?'

~~~

It was getting late in the Agreste Mansion and one would expect it to be dead silent, but the noise of someone slamming their first into a desk echoed through the walls.

"It should have worked!" Gabriel sneered, his jaw clenched. Nathalie was opposite him, in bed, a concerned look on her face.

"Gabriel, it was your first akuma attack after your unexpected hiatus. It won't be successful but it has shown you how your power has grown," Nathalie told him, playing her cup of tea down on a tray. Gabriel looked up at her.

"The design was perfect, the emotions were perfect, the abilities I have the akuma were perfect! How couldn't it have worked?" He over around the room, dragging a hand down his face.

"Have you considered that maybe the akuma wasn't your best designed?" Nathalie suggested with a frown. Gabriel dismissed her with a wave.

"The akuma's vines were perfect for taking down Ladybug and her team. If that didn't work then there was the gas, it should've killed them," He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "The akuma should. Have. Been. Perfect."

"Perhaps it was better that it wasn't," Nathalie thought out loud and Gabriel snapped his head in her direction.

"What do you mean?" He asked accusatorially.  

"You lacked control over the akuma," she stated and at her words, Gabriel scowled.

"And how exactly did I lack control?" Gabriel turned, crossing his arms. 

"It was easily agitated all throughout its akumatization, the tentacles did not respond to your commands," Nathalie spoke in a flat tone, similar to the one she'd use when in public. Gabriel opened his mouth to speak but Nathalie interjected. "The gas could have easily got it, what do you suppose we would've done then?"

"I would've stopped the akuma long before that would've happened," he insisted.

"What about Adrien?" Nathalie asked. "What if the gas got to him? Have you checked on him?" Nathalie saw how Gabriel's sharp gaze softened for a brief moment before they pierced into her soul once more.

"I'll speak with him during breakfast," he stated. "I doubt the akuma went near him." Gabriel seemed to stand straighter as he inspected the woman in front of him. "And why are you so persistent in making me believe I made the wrong choice?"

Nathalie knew she wasn't any match for Gabriel, not in the weakened state that she was in. She could barely even stand on her legs for over ten minutes. Gabriel could tear her to shreds. And she saw the growing fury in his eyes. With a sigh, she spoke. "Forgive me, Gabriel. I barely have time to see Adrien these days so I grew worried. I did not mean to criticise your judgement." Nathalie hid her relief as Gabriel exhaled, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes.

"That's fine, Nathalie," he murmured, exasperated. "I understand that you are unwell."

"And while this akuma may not have been successful," she continued, getting Gabriel's attention once more. "It has certainly made a great on the Parisian population and they'll be anxious, living in fear not knowing where you strike next." A smile appeared on Gabriel's face and he slowly nodded, placing his glasses back onto his face.

"You're right, it wasn't a complete loss." He walked to the bedroom door and just before he walked out, he turned. "Get some rest." Nathalie nodded and he closed the door behind him. She frowned.

Something was wrong. Something had changed.

Gabriel was that something that changed.

And only Nathalie could see it.

~~~

The sound of business chatter and footsteps were deafening. Well, not really. It only seemed that way because Tim hadn't remembered to bring his coffee into the meeting. He assumed that it would be over quickly. He assumed incorrectly. If anything, the only thing keeping him going was the information that he would tell Bruce the moment they were alone.

"Mr Luthor has requested a follow-up meeting with both you and Mr Drake, Mr Wayne," one of the men crowded around told them. "He requested it to be scheduled next Tuesday."

"That's not possible," a woman, one of Bruce's personal assistants, interjected. "Mr Wayne has an appointment at Wayne Botanical Gardens. And Mr Drake has a meeting with Mr MacSporran from the Scottish firm that day. Mr MacSporran will come all the way from Perth so I doubt he would be pleased with the sudden schedule change"

"Speaking of which," another woman spoke. "The branch in Scotland has had an increase in profit, around 22% higher than last year."

"And the branch in Bordeaux?" Bruce asked, his eyes still focused in front of him.

"Despite only being set up in the last half-decade, it's doing surprisingly well," someone else commented. Tim was paying attention, definitely, he just didn't register whose voice the words belonged to. Bruce hummed.

"Very good, I'll make sure to pay a visit. And perhaps Tim can visit them too," Bruce suggested with a smile and Tim straightened.

"Yes, one day," Tim muttered trying his best to conceal his fatigue. While the others could have been fooled, Bruce was not. He merely nodded.

"How is the business firm in Ottawa?" Bruce asked and one of the women spoke up.

"Not as good as we'd like it to be," she tried to let down gently. "Profit has decreased by 2.5% and I heard that a portion of the staff had been fired." 

"On a happier note," another man began. "The scientific engineering team here are doing very well and have tested a prototype for easier communication." Bruce and Tim paused, they had finally reached the door 

"Tell Mr Luthor that the meeting will be delayed until both of our schedules will correlate with his," He told the man from earlier and he turned to his personal assistant. "Try to arrange a timing that works best. You-" he gestures to another person. "Try to get us more information on what exactly is happening in Ottawa. And finally, send us a detailed report on our science and engineering team's progress. It will be interesting to read about what they have been working towards." The people all nodded their heads and began scurrying away. 

Tim watched as Bruce let the fake, over-exaggerated, smile fall and he opened his office door. Tim closed it behind him and walked towards Bruce's desk, dropping himself into one of the chairs in front. As he covered his mouth with a yawn, Bruce came over to the other side of the desk and collapsed into his chair, his hands rubbing the temples of his forehead. Tim could understand why his adoptive father was tired, the meeting they had just finished was filled with business and stress, mostly of the latter. The meeting took up much of his energy and he was in desperate need of caffeine, he wasn't sure how he was still awake. Then he remembered.

"Have you looked at the email yet?" He asked. Bruce shot him a look of both confusion and interest. The man then opened his computer and Tim got up to get some coffee from Bruce's personal coffee machine. If Tim remembered correctly, Bruce should have gotten an email from Lucius Fox that read 'Urgent' which had a file attached as well as a message that read: 'I believe this is what you're looking for'. He heard a click from the computer mouse and Tim counted down from 180 in his head. Once he reached zero, he turned around and Bruce looked up from his computer.

"What have you found out?" Bruce asked and Tim took a breath, of course his father already knew that he had done research.

Tim came over to sit down. "This entry was written by Alya Césaire and Chloe Bourgeois, two classmates that go to Collège Françoise Dupont, a school in Paris, France." 

"The location fits," Bruce muttered and he gestured for Tim to continue.

"So far I've only had time to look into the two girls who submitted this entry but I'll tell you about them anyway." Tim finished his statement with a big sip of his precious coffee. "First Alya Césaire. She's fifteen, her father, Otis, works at the Ménagerie du Jardin des Plantes as a zoo keeper, her mother, Marlena, is the head chef at Le Grand Paris, and she has an older sister and two younger twin sisters. Most interestingly, Alya is the creator and admin of the 'Ladyblog'. You know that live stream where Ladybug was stabbed? Yeah, she manages that." Tim ignored the grimace on Bruce's face and continued. "So she has great experience with the Akuma attacks."

"And Chloe Bourgeois?" Bruce questioned further. Tim smiled.

"That's where it gets more interesting." He leaned forward in his chair and set his cup of coffee down on the desk. "Chloe Bourgeois attends the same class as Alya. She's the daughter of Audrey Bourgeois, the fashion designer, and André Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris." Bruce tilted his head slightly to the side, his subtle way of showing interest. "Most of the reports I've found on her are generic mean girl type things but there was one thing that stood out. Chloe was in the possession of a miraculous."

Bruce blinked. He leaned forward as Tim had done. "And how exactly did that happen."

"Most sources don't specify that but according to Ladybug, she wasn't supposed to have it," Tim clarified. "Chloe announced herself as 'Queen Bee', apparently only to impress her mother. Either way, Chloe must've done something to impress Ladybug instead because there are multiple instances where she brought her back into a few different battles."

"That's not an ideal choice to make," the man spoke and Tim nodded.

"But in Ladybug's defence, she only brought Chloe into battle in desperation and has not brought Queen Bee in since then." Bruce seemed more satisfied with this answer and he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed and his eyes focussed on the computer screen which Tim assumed had the entry.

"It's all perfect," the billionaire muttered. "Almost too perfect..." His eyes hardened on the screen for a brief moment before he turned to Tim again. "The faster we get them here, the faster we can take down this Hawkmoth. I'll send Lucius and the rest involved an email, to write an apology for closing the competition early."

"And make some excuse of technical errors?" Tim suggested.

"I suppose so." Bruce straightened in his seat. "This entry itself is worthy of winning so I'll get in touch with the school's administration before sending in the congratulations letter. Then once that's done, I'll organise everything necessary to accommodate them."

"Let's bring these kids to Gotham," Tim chuckled dryly, picking up the cup of coffee that he had placed on the desk.

Bruce gave him a look before he began to type up the email. "Let's bring these kids to Gotham and keep them safe."

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmomadragon, @starlit-dreaming, @icerosecrystal, @lolieg, @kashlyn, @mochegato, @eggadoodle, @walkingthroughonautopilot, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @lady-bee-fechin, @weebjai1, @trippingovermyfeet, @laurcad123, @twsssmlmaa, @queenz-z, @maribat-is-lifeblood

[winterandwords]

It looks like my brain is taking some time off doing things with words. This honestly almost never happens. I'm ✨obsessive✨ about writing to the point where it often sometimes becomes A Problem™

So, this used to drive me crazy with frustration. I'm a very push-through-it kind of person. This is also A Problem™ and one that I'm actively working on for reasons of physical and mental health. Before, I would admonish myself for not trying hard enough, force myself to do the thing, be utterly miserable, and ultimately end up despising every fucking word I wrote when my mind and my heart weren't in it.

Now I'm trying this new thing where I don't do that and I think about how I got here. I've been working on Project Frequency non-stop for a while, even though I didn't fully intend to get stuck into it just yet. I published a short fiction collection on my website. I finished the last revision on Project Storm way sooner than planned after it came back from my editing folks (still needs proofread, but sooooooon!).

Within the last few weeks, I also started creating regular writing-related content for Instagram, which has included making artsy fartsy microfiction videos where I read things with my own fucking voice OMG. This is legit one of my favourite forms of creative expression right now and I'm learning so much. I gathered three years' worth of microfiction into categories for future posts. And I completely overhauled my entire website.

My mental health has been not amazing. OK, that's a massive understatement. My mental health has been an explosive catastrophic disaster because of stuff relating to serious trauma that I don't want to talk about here. I fell apart in a full-on breakdown kind of way, which is not something I do very often because I live in a perpetual state of denial and dissociation and like to pretend I don't because it makes me feel like I've got my shit together better than I really do.

I contacted a trauma support centre that specialises in the very specific context of my trauma. I realised I wasn't ready to go through that whole process yet and cancelled the initial outreach assessment. Then I felt like a weak piece of shit and hated myself a bit. Then my close family and a very good friend helped me understand that this was an act of self-care and boundary setting and sometimes first steps have to be taken a number of times. So it's OK. Sort of. And I'm doing way better at dealing with the mess in my head with the support of people who love me. And I'm extremely lucky to have those people.

My chronic illness/disability stuff has been a pile of fuckery too, but the more manageable kind of fuckery. Except I've been really struggling with mobility aids lately because I'm basically going in cycles of fucking up my lower body by not using them, then fucking up my upper body by using them. So I found a truly epic rollator/wheelchair hybrid (swear to god, this thing is cyberpunk AF) that is everything I need and actually possible for me to operate even when my stupid hands are being stupid, and now we're trying to work out how to afford it and hopefully I'll be able to get it within the next few months.

Now that I type all that out, I'm not quite so much like "Why am I not feeling creative right now? It's a mystery!" I am burned the fuck out and profoundly exhausted on every level. And I'm doing that new thing I mentioned at the top of this post. I'm accepting it. And I'm letting myself rest. And I think it's good.

Anyway, I just wanted to check in and say hi and I miss you all and I'm still lurking even if I'm not posting as much. Love love love. PS. Sorry if I've missed any tags lately. Please keep tagging me. I don't usually suck this bad at keeping up <3

[talatomaz]

fear | paige dineen x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i’ve been rewatching Scorpion lately and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. this is based around 3x17. it’s a criminally underrated show and so original. also this is the first fic i’ve written in months so, sorry if it’s shit /lh

warnings: mentions of death/coma

word count: 3.1k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

reader is paige’s 18 year old daughter and sometimes helps out team scorpion but when she inadvertently inhales poisonous fumes, she soon finds herself on the brink of death, hallucinating her deepest darkest fear

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Here.”

You said, placing a George Washington style hat on your younger brother’s head.

“Did you know that these are called tricorns and were referred to as-“

“Cocked hats? Yes, and they were worn not only by the aristocracy, but also as common civilian dress, and as part of military uniforms.”

You explained, interrupting Ralph as he stopped adjusting the hat and looked up at you with surprise.

“I was a history major, remember? You’re not the only one who knows things.” You joked, smiling when he did.

“So why am I wearing this tricorn?” Your genius brother asked.

“Well, you’ve got a history project due about Washington and what better way to understand his actions than by getting into his persona and pretending to be him?”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Toby.” Ralph smirked.

“Hey!”

You and your brother turned to face Happy and Toby who had just entered the garage.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a world-class behaviourist.”

“Shut it, doc.” Happy said, but there was no malice in her words.

“Where’s everyone?”

“Mum and Walter went out somewhere and Cabe’s with Allie at Sly’s desk because Sly’s asleep and drooling over himself.”

“Ew.” You said, replying to your brother.

As Happy and Toby left to find Cabe, you and Ralph continued discussing George Washington. You were both interrupted when you heard your mother’s voice.

“Morning!”

Yours and Ralph’s faces lit up when you saw she was holding a bag from Fro-Yo-Ma. Ever since Walter had got himself banned after a petty argument with the manager about a loyalty card which resulted in him having a black eye, you had all been unable to attend the establishment.

You smiled when an idea formed in your head and faced your brother once more,

“Hey, how about we sneak up to Mum whilst she’s distracted and grab our fro-yos?”

Ralph nodded in agreement and you both cautiously approached your mum who was busy telling the team that the frozen treats were for after lunch. As you both flanked your mother, you glanced over at Ralph and gave him a slight nod. Then you grabbed a tub each and began to sneak away as quietly as you came but your Mum looked at you both in confusion.

“Quick. Run, Ralph.”

Ignoring your mother’s laugh, you took a hold of Ralph’s free hand and ran back to the corner of garage you were studying in.

“I got to stop leaving them with you people.” Paige said.

Halfway through eating the frozen yogurt, you heard Cabe announce that Scorpion had a case.

Like your Mum, you weren’t a genius but you did help Scorpion anytime they were down a member, especially now since Toby had said he’d stay back to help Ralph with his project.

You were a little hurt that Ralph welcomed his help more-so than yours, despite you being the History expert, but nonetheless, you brushed it off and gathered your things to join the team’s trip to Greenland.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Arriving at the Granse World Seed Vault, you tugged at the lapels of your winter coat, trying to keep some of the warmth in you which was a large feat considering you were stuck in a blizzard in the middle of nowhere.

The winds, that could only be described as gusting, blew through your hair, further obstructing your view as you entered the building.

Moving the hair from your face, you shivered and looked up to see that the vault was desolate.

“Well, now we know why nobody ever comes out here.” Sly stated.

You all watched as Walter failed to use the key card resulting in Happy jump starting the generator using the battery from the snowcat you travelled in.

Then you all split up to go and complete your tasks.

Your Mum and Walter remained at the entrance whilst Happy started to repair the generator, Cabe went to the breakroom, Sly went to the server room and you went to find the operations centre to locate the power conduit which you needed to switch off and on again.

The dark hallway you were in suddenly brightened meaning Happy had managed to fix one of the power sources. You let out a breath of relief; you didn’t exactly welcome the idea of wandering around a pitch black vault alone where no one had been for almost a year.

You then began to cough as the vents let out some sort of yellow dust. The smell was putrid, almost making you heave.

“God, that smell is awful. So much for this being an antiseptic facility.” You groaned.

“Well, this facility self-purifies its air, but the system's been down for days, so the seeds have decayed a bit, the vents are just stirring up seed dust.” Walter said through your comms.

“Speaking of stirring up, I can only imagine what kind of trouble is being stirred up in the garage. I worry about his maturity level.”

“Mum, don’t worry. Ralph’s the most mature person I know.”

“Oh honey, I know. I was talking about Toby.”

You snickered to yourself and then stopped when you realised you’d found the Ops Centre.

“Guys, I figured out what caused the surge.”

You listened as Sly’s voice crackled through your comms.

After he had finished explaining, you spoke, “So the whole place went dark because the programmers forgot to synchronize their watches?”

“Right! But if I can get the operating system's clock lined up with Finland's, then I'll have this fixed.”

Sylvester paused for a brief moment and when he spoke again, his voice came out in a panicked whisper.

“Is anyone else getting a weird vibe? Like...like we're not alone?”

“Hey, Sly. It’s okay. Just breathe.” You said calmly before telling him to follow your breathing pattern to regulate his own.

“Good job, y/n. Sly, everything’s going to be fine. Fix the server’s clock and we’ll be out of here soon.”

You smiled at your mother’s praise and went to find the panel switch.

You enjoyed working with your Mum, loving the fact that you got to spend more time with her since starting University. But sometimes, you found yourself feeling...lonely because most of your Mum’s attention was focused on Ralph and the rest of the team.

You understood Ralph, in the broadest of terms, that was. You loved him as much as your mum and you knew her looking after Scorpion was her job but it still hurt you because you didn’t have anything in common with the rest of them.

THUD

You jumped when the door behind you slammed shut.

“Mum? I’m locked in.” You shouted out worryingly.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Our blast doors are locked too.” Your Mum said, her voice calming you with every word.

“The vault prioritizes keeping seeds safe so it must go into lockdown when it's most vulnerable, i.e. a reboot. So the doors will open in 40 minutes when the reboot is done. Everything is fine.”

Walter explained before you winced at the shriek that came through on your comms.

“Sly, what the hell?” You yelled, rubbing your ear, as if trying to sooth the pain.

“They’re in here. They’re in here.” The genius repeated as your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Sly, what’s going on?”

“Sylvester, do you copy?”

“Sly!”

You all started to shout in concern, scared for Sly’s safety, before stilling when the latter’s screams fell quiet.

“I was right. I’m not alone. It’s chickens!”

How the hell had chickens got into the seed vault? You thought to yourself.

“Hey guys. I didn’t want Sly to hear us.” Toby said.

You figured your Mum must have called him and patched him through to your comms.

You all listened as Toby explained how Sly was suffering from a psychotic break but when he commented on some yellow dust, he realised that you had all breathed in seed fungus that affected the fear centre in your brain.

You started to get even more concerned when it became apparent that Happy and Cabe were hallucinating but you were shamefully relieved that the ergot spores hadn’t affected you. You weren’t sure you wanted to experience your darkest fear, especially when you were surrounded by your Mum and the team.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Mum. I’m not seeing or hearing anything.” You reassured her, hearing her sigh of relief.

“Okay, thank god. We’ll get you out soon enough, okay, sweetie?”

You blinked, turning around when you heard your mother’s voice behind you.

“Y/N?” Paige said through your comms.

But you just blinked again, because you could see your Mum in front of you and you couldn’t distinguish the look on her face.

“Mum, what’s wrong?” You said.

“What? Nothing’s wrong. Toby. Walt. What’s happening?” Paige said frantically.

“Y/N must have inhaled the ergot too and she’s now trapped in her false reality.” Toby explained.

“We got to get her out of there, Walter.”

Paige said, near tears, before falling silent as she watched you on the security camera. She saw you sit on a chair and converse with an imaginary Paige.

“Mum, what did I do? I’m sorry.” You said, tears forming in your eyes at your mother’s words.

“I told you, I don’t love you. Scorpion is my family. They’re geniuses and you’re not.”

“Mum, please.” Your voice broke, as you started to plead with her.

“I-I can’t watch this. I need to get her out of there. Y/N, listen to me. I am here!”

Paige ran up to the blast doors and started to bang on the reinforced steel. Her attempts, however, were futile, because she knew that the doors wouldn’t open until you, Cabe, Happy and Sly had completed your tasks.

“Paige, you have to keep it together.” Toby said.

“No, my daughter is living her worst fear and I can’t do anything to stop it.”

“I know. I want to help Happy too. But we can’t until we figure out what psychological baggage the fungus is unpacking.”

“And we might need to hurry because Sly is getting unsure of foot.”

Walter said as Paige returned to his side to see Sly having trouble keeping his balance.

“God, we need to get them out of there. The exposure seems extensive which means their blood vessels are being constricted, especially in the brain meaning-“

“Less blood flow. And less blood flow means less oxygen. And less oxygen means...coma.” Walter finished solemnly.

“We have to talk them lucid so they can finish their tasks. I’ll take Happy. Walt, you take Cabe. Ralph, you have your work cut out for you with Sly. And Paige-“

“I’ll help y/n. Y/N? Y/N, honey, if you can hear me, I need you to flip the switch on the panel next to you. Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry, Mum. Please don’t yell. What did I do wrong?”

“I told you, you’re just not special so why should I waste my time with you?”

“Please, Mum. I’m sorry I’m not special enough. I’m sorry I’m not smart like everyone else. Please don’t send me away.”

Paige’s heart broke as she watched you cry on her screen.

“Y/N, I love you so much. You are special. I love you.” Paige cried, tears dropping down her face.

“Toby, it’s not working. I can’t get through to y/n!”

“Ralph and I may have come up with another idea. You need to go back to the point when these fears started and attack that seminal moment.”

“Okay, so she’s talking about not being smart enough. I can only guess that this started when I joined the team. Y/N? Baby, can you hear me?”

Paige’s voice softened as she spoke to you once more.

“Yes, Mum?” You replied, sniffling as your tears continued to fall down your face.

“Oh, honey. Just because you’re not a genius like the rest of these guys, doesn’t mean you’re not special.”

“But I’m not.”

“Y/N, yes, you are. You’ve been special since the moment you were born. Since the moment I first held you in my arms. You’re my baby, y/n. You are special in your own way.”

Your Mum grabbed your hand and held them to her heart.

“You feel that?”

“Y-Your heartbeat?” You asked, feeling the light repetitive beating under your palm.

“Yes. My heartbeat. More importantly, my heart. You are my heart, y/n. You have been for 18 years. I grew up with you. You made me into the person I am today. The person I am now. I love you so much.”

“Yes, you’re not as smart as Ralph or Walter or the rest of the team but neither am I. Y/N, you are bright, intelligent. You are twice the person I am. You care so much about everyone. Your heart is beautiful.”

Your mother gently dropped your hand in her lap and lifted her own to cradle your face.

“That’s what makes you special.” She moved to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Now, y/n. I’m already so proud of you but I need you to do one thing for me. I need you to turn the switch in front of you off and on again.”

Paige held her breath as she and Walter watched you slowly stand up on your shaky legs and walk over to the panel that had the power conduit switch attached to it.

“Done.” Your voice echoed on the security monitor.

“Good girl.”

“I’m kinda sleepy, Mum. I’m just going to take a quick nap.” Your voice quietened as you lay down on the floor.

“Uh, Toby. Y/N flipped the switch but she’s really sleepy and I can’t get her to wake up.”

“Oh god, Happy, Sly and Cabe are out too. They’re in comas. They need medical assistance stat or they will die.”

“Walter.” Paige whispered, unable to speak any louder due to fear of losing you.

“We can synthesize a treatment!”

Toby then explained the different seeds they needed to mix together to make the medicine whilst Ralph hacked the vault’s database to locate them.

Once Paige and Walter had manufactured oxygen tubes out of PVC pipes, they hastily made their way to the vault before stopping when they saw you unconscious on the ground.

Paige ran to your side, still holding her breath, and quickly checked for a pulse, relaxing slightly when she felt it, albeit it was weak, but it was still there. She ran her thumb against your cheek in a gentle caress and then followed Walter to the vault, passing the others, also unconscious, on their way.

Easily finding the required seeds, the duo made the medicine oil but when a chemical fire broke out, Walter stayed to put it out whilst Paige ran to give the oil to the rest of you.

She found Cabe first, then Happy and Sly. Once she had rendered them conscious, she ran off in pursuit of the Operations Centre where you were.

Carefully but quickly, she lifted your head to rest against her leg as she poured the oil beneath your tongue.

“Come on, sweetie. Wake up. Open your eyes. Please, God.” She murmured to herself.

You opened your eyes with some difficulty, wincing at the light above you.

“Mum? What happened?” You groaned, sitting up.

“Thank God, you’re okay. I thought I’d lost you.”

Ignoring your question, your Mum gathered you in her arms and hugged you tight against her.

“I love you so much, y/n.”

Hugging her back, you rested your head against the crook of her neck, “I love you too.”

“Guys, come on, we gotta go.”

You both looked up to see Happy standing at the door. With the help of your Mum, you stood up and she then grabbed your hand and you all ran back to the entrance.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

You had all safely arrived back home and managed to make it in time for Sly’s debate.

You sat in the chair next to Happy, slowly falling asleep, exhausted from the ordeals of the day.

Soon after you’d left the Vault and were on your way home, the grogginess of the poisonous fungus had fully left your system, allowing you to remember your hallucination. You’d barely said more than two words on the plane ride home, unsure of the right words to say to your Mum who had undoubtedly heard your fear.

“Hey, sweetie. Stay awake for a little while longer. We’re going home. Sly’s going to look after Ralph tonight.”

Your mother said, resting her hand on your shoulder to rouse you. You nodded in response and got up, following her to her car.

Similar to the plane, the car ride was silent. Not necessarily an awkward silence, but it was far from comfortable. You felt the constant glances your Mum gave you as she drove on the quiet roads. You noticed her lips part a few times too, as if she was about to say something but then stopped herself at the last moment.

Arriving home, your Mum unlocked the door and you made a beeline to your bedroom to get changed into your nightie. As you laid in your bed, you heard a soft knock on your door.

Inviting your Mum in, you saw she had changed too. She sat on your bed, the lamp providing some light in the room.

“Honey, can we talk?”

Not waiting for an answer, she got into the bed beside you and rested against the headboard.

“I want to talk about what happened earlier.”

There was no need for her to clarify what she meant.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, y/n, we do. It broke my heart to see you cry today. And it hurt even more to hear that I was the reason why. I’ve never ever wanted to cause you any pain and the fact that I was a part of your deepest fear just-“

When her voice faltered, you looked up to see quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Mum, I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m sorry that you felt like you weren’t special. But I meant what I said back there. You are special in your own way. Yes, I love you and Ralph in different ways but you mean so much to me. I’m surrounded by geniuses all the time, and frankly, it gets tiring. So I’m glad I have you. You bring me back down to Earth. You’re my heart and soul, y/n.”

Not knowing the right words to say, you simply lay your head against your mother’s chest and hugged her close.

“I love you, Mum.”

“I love you too, baby. I always have and I always will.”

Soon enough, both of your tears stopped and you fell asleep in her arms, her hands gently stroking your hair as she cradled you against her.

You may not have been a genius but you were smart enough to realise that no matter what, your Mum would always love you.

[polyamorouspunk]

Not so angry but my polycule partners all live 3 hours away from me and I don't get to take time off work until the summer because we're busiest at spring (i work at a garden centre) so I havent seen them since new years day (for my throuple) or valentines (for my boyfriend) and i miss them like hell. sucks cuz i had to ask for a special allowance to have day off for next week because my dad is getting married and even though hes not my favourite parent to put it lightly and it taking place 4 hours away i felt obliged to go because of how he's given me a big financial deposit towards buying a house in the future (like thatll happen in this economy lol). I'd rather be snuggling with my throuple or watching my boyfriend play video games than having to deal with my extended family misgendering me and dead naming me ya know. Guess this was a bit of a rant aha

I feel that. I’m tired of people having friends and hanging out with people. I haven’t seen my friends since last August and unless my aunt dies before next August, which is looking more and more like a possibility, I’m not going to see them until them. My best friend has a bunch of other friends she’s met since high school and is living her best life going to concerts of the bands I got her into with her friends and having tons of sex etc. etc. and I know it’s not roses for her but still. My other best friend finally graduated college after putting in her 4 years to get a degree and I’m not really sure what she’s up to tbh and tbh she probably doesn’t have any friends either but. One person I talk to daily just goes to concerts and stuff all the time and has gay sex with multiple people multiple times a week and said they’re now maybe joining a polycule and I’m like cool the one person I like has been in AZ for a month getting a divorce and also we’re not on the best of terms. The other person I talk to every day is also in a polycule but feels underappreciated by his boyfriend which I get but I don’t really relate to either of them and I only talk to them because no one else talks to me daily except my ex who I’m thankful for and one other person (hi). My FP has been away for months like I’ve said and everyone here knows because I don’t shut up about it and everyone is sick of me talking about it and hearing about it and we aren’t even getting along that well but in the past 3 years he is the only person I’ve hung out with outside of my ex here. Hearing him complain that someone he was supposed to go out with bailed when he asked if they could come over his house like you have people you’re hanging out with though. Like every time I talk to him he’s like “I’m busy doing tattoos” like okay. Like I’m sorry your life sucks and I get being a full time parent to a kid with special needs while having a retail job and being in a messy divorce is hard. I do. But you spend your free time drinking with the girl you live with and giving each other tattoos and I guess going out with other people you’ve met there and meanwhile you are my only friend that I’ve made in 3 years and unfortunately I’ve become obsessed with you because I don’t have anyone else.

I get when you have to do something and you take a day off it’s like “finally I have a day off and I should be doing something I want to because I have a day off” but it’s not really a day off it’s “I need to fill an obligation I don’t really want to fulfill” and especially when you’re watching everyone you love doing things without you and you’re stuck with your same family that sucks (luckily my family is great but). I hope you do buy a house where you can come home to your partners every day. Hopefully at least time away from busy work will be better in the downtimes you’ll have to yourself around the wedding.

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned (Part Nine)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: violence, blood imagery

Context: The first of the SRS has arrived, but thankfully not in large numbers.

A/N: hopefully I'll have a more Halloween-esque part to this out next weekend, so stay tuned for that!😁💛

Masterlist

A shiver runs through my body as I move silently through the back streets of Santa Carla, my hand resting on the gun holstered at my hip, gloved fingers tapping lightly on the deadly weapon as if in anticipation, my muscles taut and ready to spring into action. Unsurprisingly, a cool wind is blowing through town, the late October chill easily seeping into my new, stolen black denim jacket, the new outfit the boys found for me acting as a suitable disguise, seeing as the SRS uniform from before is a little too conspicuous, though the chains rattling quietly by my thigh are a little distracting, and the studs adorning the variety of clothes are a little superfluous, but it does it's part well enough. Thankfully, I got to keep my boots, so at least I'm not getting blisters from any new ones.

Biting my lip, I turn down yet another deserted alley, quickly scanning it for danger, noting the lack of people instantly, though there are a few cars and bins sitting by the surrounding walls here and there, each of them providing sufficient cover for a person, or multiple persons. Slowly, I edge forwards, watching the surroundings for any movement, aware that there could be danger at any moment, my heart pounding as I clock the lack of sound in the area, suddenly aware of the fact that there are no working streetlamps on this particular strip of alley, leaving it completely cloaked in darkness. Uneasy, I stop still, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Very carefully, I take off my gloves, placing them in my pocket as I listen closely to the eerie silence, watching the dark space in front of me, hoping to catch anything, should it come closer.

My head snaps round in the direction of a muted footstep, my fingers wrapping around the stock of the gun, pulling it from its holster and smoothly cocking it, flicking off the safety as I turn towards the noise. Mechanically, I lift the weapon a little higher, calming my racing heart before I step over towards the car the noise came from, holding my breath as I try to make out any shapes in the suffocating blackness, finding it nigh-on impossible to do so.

As I approach the car, I lift the gun higher still, edging around the seemingly abandoned vehicle, keeping my eyes trained on the space in front of me, my training kicking in as a dull calm spreads through me, keeping me from moving erratically, everything around me filtering out as I round the bonnet of the car.

A sudden blow to my upper back throws me forwards into the wall ahead of me, the air leaving my lungs as I collide with it painfully, tears springing to my eyes as my nose makes contact, the gun falling from my hands. Recovering quickly, I duck down before the second punch can come, a stifled yelp of surprise escaping my attacker as their fist connects with the hard surface, their knuckles most likely cracking from the force, causing them to reel back a little, leaving me time to spin around and jump back upright again. Without pausing, I swing my fist round into their exposed ribs, feeling the bones give slightly under the impact, my other hand coming round to land a hard blow to their descending face, their body whipping to the side in response. I move closer, intending to grab them, only for them to suddenly lunge forwards and shove me up against the wall, fists pummeling my sides, low grunts of pain leaving my lips as I grab their shoulders, but to no avail.

After a particularly well-aimed punch to the centre of my collarbones, I have to suck in a sharp breath of air, wincing as pain explodes through my chest, rendering me momentarily incapable of retaliating, giving my attacker the perfect opportunity to grab my hair and throw me away from the wall, my body violently crashing into the car bonnet as they drop me there, pain quickly spreading through me as I make contact. Under my weight, the windscreen cracks and shatters, shards of glass digging into my back as I skid over them, my attacker advancing on me with a newfound confidence, my eyes swiftly spotting the knife in their hand. Ignoring the blood pouring from my nose and mouth, I quickly roll to the side to avoid a sudden downwards thrust of the blade, dropping off of the car and onto the floor, going to get up, only to be stopped by a hand grasping my hair again, yanking my head back and pressing the knife to my throat. Eyes going wide, I take hold of their arm and press against it, feeling the icy sting of the blade just cutting into my skin, panic starting to well up in my body as I fight against their strength, only to find them slowly overpowering me.

With one last push, I drive an elbow backwards, catching them in the knee with enough force to make them buckle a little, giving me the chance to duck out of their grip and throw them onto their back on the floor, swiftly pinning then down as I grab my own knife from my pocket, wincing as they manage to use their's to leave a long gash down one of my arms. Putting my knife to their throat, I press down until they stop struggling, the two of us breathing very heavily as we calm ourselves, both waiting for the next move.

When nothing happens, I go to lean back slightly, only for my captive to suddenly write underneath me, kicking me backwards a little so that I have to stretch out my arms to keep myself upright. In doing so, however, I manage to lodge my knife in their thigh, a scream of agony tearing itself from their lips at their self-inflicted wound, blood starting to ooze out from around the base of the weapon, colourful curses and swears aimed at me accompanying the whines and whimpers of pain that follow. Climbing off of them, I swiftly grab their wrists and use the rope at my belt to tie them together, ignoring their pleas and begging, the voice now distinctly male as they try to appeal to my better nature, seemingly forgetting that they just tried to kill me.

I don't look at their face, turning to their newly sustained wound, thinking things over, before making a split decision. Pulling another rope from my belt, I tie it around the top of his thigh, pulling it tight to stop the bleeding, choosing to leave the weapon in place as I work, eventually telling him to shut up as he continues to ramble on.

*

"Who the hell is that and why the fuck is he here?!" David growls at me as I eventually manage to drag the Scout into the cave, a trail of dirt mapping out the path I used as I manoeuvre my way around the messy interior.

"This," I start, dropping the man's legs as I find a better source of light, "Is a Scout, someone sent to find me before the rest of the Clean-up Team arrives. He's here because we're taking him hostage."

Kneeling down beside the now-unconscious man, I turn my attention to the knife protruding from his leg, quickly deciding how to go about this. Taking hold of the Scout's knife, I carefully cut away the fabric of his trousers around the wound, gently testing how tightly the knife is wedged into the muscle, before dropping the weapon in my hand and grabbing a piece of nearby cloth.

"A hostage? Why are you taking a hostage?" David continues to interrogate me, scowling at me as I yank the knife from the wound and use the fabric to staunch the flow of blood that rushes out.

"So that I have some leverage over them when they come for me, though I'm not too sure how well they'll react to this." I muse out loud, only now realising that the platinum blonde vampire across from me is having a hard time controlling himself, "Sorry, I forgot that this would be difficult for you guys."

A small part of me is glad that David is the one who volunteered to stay behind tonight to keep watch with me, given that he seems to have the most self control (apart from Dwayne) when it comes to blood; if it was Paul, the Scout would be dead by now.

David just huffs, sitting in his wheelchair sullenly as he waits for me to finish, blue eyes watching me as I examine the wound.

"Hey, do you think you could get the med-kit from my rucksack, please? I need to stitch this or he'll bleed out." I ask him quietly, hoping he'll agree.

The vampire rolls his eyes, but stands and gets the kit anyway, handing it to me with a grunt. Thanking him, I take out a needle and thread, sterilizing them both as I prepare them for use, removing the makeshift bandage from the wound and leaning in to start sewing the edges shut.

"Where did you learn to do that?" David asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

"This? I learnt on the job, a few years ago. Some werewolf caught me with its claws when I got too close. I had to stitch myself up, so I learned from the experience." I explain dismissively, remembering the incident well.

"A werewolf?" The vampire questions, seemingly confused, "Where was that?"

"Somehwere in Texas, I think. I don't really remember the specifics. Why?"

"Oh, I wasn't aware that there were still werewolves in this country."

"Really?! You can't possibly think you're the only supernatural beings left in the U.S?" I ask, incredulous.

"I've been stuck in Santa Carla for as long as I can remember, so I wouldn't know." He chuckles in response, "What're you gonna do with him when he wakes up?"

I shrug.

"Talk to him, interrogate him. I just need to know how close the SRS are to finding me."

"How close do you think they are?" David queries quietly.

I sigh to myself, sitting back on my heels as I finish the job.

"Honestly, I'd rather not think about it."

Part Ten

[artificialqueens]

Just the Game We're In - Chapter 11 (Ortega)

a/n: sorry.

The rain was crashing against the pavement as Willam slammed the door of the taxi and ran across the shiny wet road into the pub. Immediately the heat of all the bodies packed into the bar made her face flush red, and she began to peel her coat off as she scanned the room looking for Sharon. She spotted her tucked away in the corner inconspicuously, drinking from a bottle of beer and gazing out of the window

She’d chosen a sort of nondescript pub for them both to meet in- in Chiswick, of all places. Willam had asked her why they couldn’t go somewhere more central, but then Sharon had moped that she didn’t want to run the risk of bumping into Alaska. Willam had been about to dismiss her as ridiculous until she realised that she didn’t really want to take the chance of meeting Courtney with Andrew, so she shrugged and accepted the fact her taxi was going to cost more than it usually would to get to a night out.

Sharon caught her eye as Willam began to make her way over and her face brightened up in a way Willam hadn’t seen it do in a good couple of weeks. She felt a little guilty as to how happy she was, thinking that maybe if she’d been a better friend to Sharon then she’d be feeling a whole lot better by now. As she reached her table, Willam gave Sharon a quick hug and sat down in the seat opposite her.

“Well, you remembered makeup exists then,” she smiled by way of a compliment, Sharon laughing and raising her bottle in a toast.

“I’ll take that as a ‘you look nice’, so thank you,” the other woman said in reply, taking a drink from her bottle. She gave Willam a guilty look when she was done. “Sorry. I got you one but I drank it while I was waiting for you.”

“It’s fine, I’ll get one just now and then we can sit and chat.”

Sharon gave a happy sigh. “We can have a good old nostalgia trip!”

Willam froze a little and glared at Sharon through narrowed eyes. “We’re not here to just chat about uni.”

Sharon looked taken aback. “We don’t have to! Just thought it would be fun.”

“Well, it won’t be. So let’s not,” Willam said quickly, pulling her purse out of her bag and leaving Sharon to queue at the bar. As she stood amongst the waiting crowd however, she couldn’t help but think back to that point in her life. Uni was so long ago now, but it still felt somehow so recent, and things that had happened years previously only seemed like mere months ago. Just like the first day at uni- it was eight years ago, really almost nine, but to Willam, it seemed as if it was yesterday.

***

Willam arrived at her new halls with most (not all) of her worldly possessions in a suitcase as big as a small bungalow. She’d had to lug it onto the train then into a taxi herself but, looking around at the car park of her new accommodation, she would conclude that it was worth it. To others, the self-catered halls would seem far from idyllic- the car park was hemmed in by four concrete towers which held tiny flats, the only hint at sunlight being the huge gate that was currently unlocked and allowing cars to stream through. To Willam, however, it was as far away from home as she had applied, and she would take what she could get.  

Anything had to be better than back there.

Dragging her suitcase out of the back of the taxi and stuffing a few notes through the small gap in the pane of glass that separated driver and passenger, Willam looked around in the way someone does when they try to pretend they know what’s going on but in reality they’re as dazed and confused as they could possibly be. Looking at the other arriving freshers though, she smirked to see a similar expression on their faces- a self-confident girl in harem pants and a tan fresh from her gap year faltering as she realised she wasn’t sure how to enter her block, a boy in cuffed joggers and an Adidas hoodie chastising his parents for fussing over him but a look of fear in his eyes at being left on his own, another girl with glossy dark hair and bright makeup who seemed to be in Willam’s position in more ways than one- alone, clutching a huge holdall, and with absolutely no idea what to do. Well, thought Willam, I’m on my own, and so is she. Might as well attempt to say hi and if she’s a cunt then at least I know someone to avoid. Win win.

She made the decision and crossed the small expanse of courtyard to meet her.

“Hey. You look like you have no fucking clue what’s going on either, so I figured two heads are better than one,” she said blythely and shrugged as she reached the girl, who seemed a little taken aback that Willam was bothering to speak to her. She gave a reserved, if not relieved, smile.

“Oh shit, thank you. I don’t even know how to navigate this city, never mind the college! The letter said we need to go to the Smythe Centre for our keys but I’ve looked and looked and can’t find it at all. Maybe I’m just blind?” she joked nervously, waving the print-out map that the uni had emailed them.

Have to be to wear that outfit, Willam thought.

“Well, let’s see if Google Maps can help us out,” she shrugged instead, figuring that she should probably dial back the shade if she was to make any friends around here any time soon.

It turned out that the map the uni had given them failed to mention that the Smythe Centre was located outside of the blocks of flats, just beyond the black gate. As they walked, the girls made small talk that was a little awkward, but on the whole flowed easily. Willam found out that the girl was studying Law and that she’d moved to Uni from America. The girls also found out they were in the same block, but not the same flat. Eventually they picked up their keys and walked back to their building, Willam taking the lift up to her flat while the other girl was on the ground floor.

“Well, this is me, but I’m sure I’ll see you around. Thanks for helping a sister out,” the girl smiled warmly at Willam. Then her face contorted into one of surprise. “Oh shit I just realised- I never got your name?”

“Oh, it’s Willam. Like William but…without the extra “i”. It’s pretty stupid, but it’s my name, and I’m stuck with it.”

The other girl laughed and smiled, sticking out a laughably formal hand for her to shake. “Honey, I’m the queen of stupid names. Nice to meet you. I’m Mayhem.”

***

Willam sat down with a thud, surprising Sharon who had just been on her phone, scrolling.

“I’ve changed my mind. Uni chat might be fun. As long as we keep it lighthearted, though,” Willam said, trying to keep her voice free of emotion as she took a swig of her beer. Sharon snorted.

“I thought you were dead against it?”

“Like I said, it’ll be funny if we keep it light. Like I was just thinking about Mayhem.”

“Aw, Mayhem,” Sharon smiled and shook her head. “I wonder what she’s doing now. Christ, I haven’t spoken to her in ages. Haven’t really spoken to anyone from uni in years.”

“Yeah I can imagine your brief stint as a junkie interfered with any cosy reunions,” Willam deadpanned, earning her an unimpressed raised eyebrow from Sharon that indicated that she wanted to take offence but really couldn’t be bothered to. “To be fair, neither have I. Territory of the job, I guess.”

Sharon nodded and looked as if she was about to speak, but then Willam laughed as something occurred to her. “Alaska and Courtney were basically my friends, and now one’s gone off-grid and the other fucking hates me.”

“You’ve got me,” Sharon said, now taking slight offence. Willam tilted her head at her and frowned.

“Are we friends now?”

Sharon seemed taken-aback by the question. “I guess Alaska was all I really had too, and she was my girlfriend. I love Courtney, but I’m not really close with her, although I’d love to be. You and me, though, it’s different.”

Willam nodded. “Are we, then? Friends?”

Sharon blew into the air. “It’s your call, really. But I consider you a friend. I don’t really have anyone else.”

“Christ, what a pair of sad sacks,” Willam laughed, calming down as she looked at Sharon’s slightly expectant face. She paused, surprised she was in this position. “I mean, I guess we’re friends? Yeah. We’re friends.”

Sharon smiled easily, clinking her bottle against Willam’s own. “Cheers. To being friends.”

Willam couldn’t help but smile.

“Willam Belli, my only friend. God help me,” Sharon laughed jokingly, Willam instantly tapping the bottom of her bottle against the top of Sharon’s and causing beer to froth out the top and spill all over the table. As Sharon cried out and laughed, fumbling with some tissues in her bag to mop it up, Willam wondered how on earth she’d ended up here. It was at this point that she admitted that she couldn’t lie to herself any more. When Bianca had mentioned the name Sharon Needles to her, the picture in her mind hadn’t been a hazy remembering. It had been a thunderbolt, a complete and utter shock to the system, and there was a reason she’d been so against Sharon’s appointment.

***

Willam turned up on her first day to lectures with a hangover, a single scrap of paper that had her flat’s rules for some obscure drinking game she hadn’t quite got the hang of yet scrawled on the back, and a raging intolerance for anyone who was in the mood for making eye contact with her, never mind saying hello. She was lucky enough, however, to be blessed (or cursed) with the kind of hangover that naturally woke her up at around 6am and provided her with no ability to get back to sleep, and so she’d had enough time to shamble around the university buildings and figure out where her lectures were meant to take place. Even better, she was early enough that she could blag whatever seat she wanted, and so she was slumped over at the very back corner of a lecture theatre with raked seating, hoping that increased height and distance would stop the lecturer picking on her.

What the fuck did they think she was there to do, learn?

She watched as the other students began to arrive, all dressed in the same preppy designer clothing or working-class appropriating “chav chic” Reebok tracksuit. Looking down at the black playsuit that she’d woken up in, Willam felt out of place. She had thought she could style it out- she’d always been confident enough to before back home- but since arriving at uni her confidence wasn’t really what it used to be. The new confusing social circles of everybody trying to make friends or place themselves within the social hierarchy of being a certified “freshaaa” was almost suffocating, and Willam couldn’t really tell who out of her seven flatmates that she actually liked- she’d only ever spoken to them when they were all either drunk or hungover.

So Willam had done what Willam could do best and slept around. On the endless carousel of clubs that she and her flatmates had tried each evening, she always seemed to bring someone home, each boy more disappointing than the last but at least they filled some sort of void.

Willam looked up as people started to trickle into the lecture hall, averting her eyes from each one. She had Mayhem, the only person so far she felt she’d really connected with, and one was enough. She adopted the same sort of facial expression that kept people from approaching her when she was at school- dark, hostile, more an active bitch face than a resting one. Which is why she was confused when a girl- tall, with dyed hair that was more yellow than blonde- casually slid her way into Willam’s row. Noticing Willam’s eyes on her, she turned to face her and smiled. Willam gave a glare back, but the other girl only gave a laugh.

“Oh, okay. Not a morning person either, huh?” she offered, causing Willam to look down at the playsuit she was wearing and back at the other girl.

“Are you taking the piss?”

“No, definitely a night owl. Me too, babe, me too,” she nodded, as if Willam had even asked. Willam watched in disbelief as she lifted up a black backpack from the floor and took out an immaculate notepad and pencilcase. Looking in front of her, she instantly saw her problem.

She didn’t have a pen.

That was okay, though, Willam reasoned, as she felt an embarrassed blush hit her cheeks. She could just catch up with the lecture later in her flat and take notes then, even though she knew that was a pipe dream as she ached to sleep away her hangover as soon as the lecture was finished. Feeling watched, she looked to her side again and saw the girl looking at her.

“Can I help you?” Willam asked sarcastically, to which the other girl gave a snort of a laugh.

“Not at all. I was just wondering if I could help you, seeing as you don’t have a notebook or literally anything to write with,” she smirked, Willam cursing herself for her lack of organisation.

“I’m fine. I’ll just look over the slides at home and take notes then. I’m not going to be listening properly if I’m taking notes at the same time,” she replied, happy that she had the upper hand. The other girl frowned at her.

“As if you’re doing any more work when you get home, you’re clearly hungover to fuck!” she said, looking at Willam as if she had escaped from a psychiatric ward. “Look, just take a pen. Do you need paper?”

“No, I’ve got some,” Willam grumbled, gesturing at the crumpled mess that sat in front of her. The girl raised her eyebrows.

“Mm, I bet Ryman’s are shitting it,” she deadpanned sarcastically, Willam giving a colossal roll of her eyes as the lecture began.

***

“I fucking hated you,” Willam laughed, enjoying the trip down memory lane and remembering how incompetent she was all those years ago.

“I thought you were a fucking idiot!” Sharon exclaimed, then descended into snorts of laughter. “Who turns up to their first lecture of uni without anything to write with, and wearing a fucking playsuit?!”

Willam burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh and forget about things for a while, and not to be stressing about the future but remembering the past instead. “I don’t even think we introduced ourselves to each other that day.”

“No, it took a good three or four lectures before that happened,” Sharon smiled, her memory spot-on. “I think you dropped something with your name on it and I picked it up and handed it to you. So really I introduced you to myself.”

Willam nodded. “And then introduced yourself to me, which at the time I didn’t really give a fuck about.”

Sharon smiled. ��Why did you hate me so much?”

Willam’s stomach dipped at the change in tone of the conversation. “You tried speaking to me when I was hungover, and you were that chirpy, upbeat kind of morning person that I fucking despised. I still hate people like that. Obnoxious,” Willam took a swig of her beer. “Anyway, from day one I had decided I hated you and I didn’t really go back on that ever. How come you hated me?”

Sharon blinked, confused. “I never hated you.”

“What? Yes you did!”

“I didn’t! I chose to sit beside you on that first day because I saw you and you looked like a laugh. Girl wearing a playsuit and last night’s makeup in the first lecture of uni, obviously going to be fun. How was I meant to know you were a complete bitch?” Sharon explained, laughing. “But I never hated you. I don’t know how you got that impression.”

Willam frowned, picking at the label on her bottle. She didn’t know either. Perhaps her own bad feeling towards Sharon in the early days clouded her own judgement of how Sharon had felt about her. Or maybe it was just the way she remembered it. It was weird, Willam thought, how your memories could be completely warped and changed over time. How they were affected just by thinking what you wanted to believe. It made her wonder just how differently Sharon remembered how they both met for the first time. Willam found herself hoping that she hadn’t been as massive a bitch to Sharon as she remembered.

“So when did we actually become friends?” Willam asked, frowning as she tried to work it out. Sharon screwed up her face.

“I don’t know if we ever really became friends, we just went straight into-”

“Was it not when one of your flatmates had a party? I think it was around Halloween.”

Sharon narrowed her eyes, then laughed. “That was my party!”

Willam shrugged. “Well it was at your flat at least. How come you even invited me to that anyway? I behaved like a total dick to you.”

Sharon looked awkward. “Well, because I…I did think you’d be a laugh.”

Willam eyed her suspiciously before taking another drink.

***

Willam threw her notebook and pen back into her handbag and began sliding her way across the benches of the lecture theatre, eager to get home and start getting ready. It was Tuesday, there was a great club night on at one of the new-ish bars, and she, Mayhem and both of their sets of flatmates were going to go. 5pm lectures were always the worst, exacerbated by the blonde canary that seemed to always sit beside her under the mistaken belief that they were friends. Willam couldn’t stand Sharon, always asking questions in lectures or whispering loudly to her if she didn’t understand something. Even the way she leaned forward and squinted at the powerpoint when she couldn’t quite read something instead of actually fucking wearing the glasses in her case annoyed Willam, and she hadn’t at any point concealed the fact. Which was why Willam was stunned when Sharon turned to her just as she was about to leave.

“So are you coming to my party or what?” she asked, Willam stunned at her forthright manner. The heavy eyeliner around her eyes framed a glare that appeared to be somewhat accusatory.

“Oh uh, yeah, I got your invite,” Willam shrugged, remembering the Facebook event that had popped up in her notifications which prompted her to reply if she was attending, a maybe, or couldn’t go. Willam recalls wondering if there was a “fuck off, not a single chance in hell am I going to your shit party” option, and she wondered if she should say that to Sharon to make her piss off for good, but she supposed that was a little too harsh even for her.  

“So?” Sharon smiled, upbeat and expectant and immediately draining Willam.

“Um, I don’t know. It depends where my flatmates are going, I’ll let you know,” Willam gave a reluctant smile as she made to leave. “See you later.”

She completely forgot about the party until she was getting ready with Mayhem later, the other girl having brought her makeup up to Willam’s flat so she didn’t have to get ready on her own.

“What are we doing for Halloween?” Mayhem asked out of nowhere, Willam looking up at her from her position on the floor where she was curling her hair.

“I don’t know. Probably Tornados? Maybe the union?”

Mayhem paused before replying as she swiped some clear lipgloss over her bottom lip. “Yeah, could do, or I was thinking maybe this flat party over at Tarvin’s Court? My whole flat are going and yours probably will be too.”

“Depends who’s hosting,” Willam said, hissing and scowling suddenly as she burned herself. “Although if everyone’s going I guess I’m going to have to come as well.”

“It’s a girl called Sharon Needles. She knows Mariah from my flat.”

Willam gave a groan and set her curlers down. “You’re joking, right? That’s that weird girl from my lectures.”

Mayhem raised her eyebrows. “Well, honey, that weird girl has got the most hyped Halloween party out of the rest of the flat parties that are going on, so we’re going. She could huff glue for all I care, if it’s a good party then I’m going and I’m getting wasted and you’re coming with me.”

So Saturday came, and in the days that preceded it Mayhem had managed to convince Willam that hey, maybe it would be fun after all to go to Sharon’s party. One of the cute-ish boys from her block that Willam had been eyeing up was meant to be going, and Willam wondered if she’d be able to corner him tonight. She’d bought a ridiculously revealing “Slutty Nun” outfit and new suspenders, all courtesy of Ann Summers in town- because in Willam’s view, what was the point of Halloween if you couldn’t dress like a massive whore?

Turning up to the party and walking through the already-open door, Willam was slightly thrown at how busy it was already. Grudgingly she admitted that it did seem like a good party, and she tottered through the door in her heels, the half-bottle of vodka she’d already downed at her flat’s predrinks making her a little unsteady on her feet. Weaving her way through the crowd, she quickly found the boy in question and struck up a conversation. In her drunken haze, Willam was happy. He seemed interested, and he definitely liked her outfit. She felt as if things were going to go somewhere. Suddenly needing to pee, she pushed her drink into his hand with an instruction to hold it and made her way to the toilet. Amazingly, there was no queue and she stumbled into the tiny cubicle-like room.

She was just about to sit down when someone else barged in through the door which she’d obviously forgotten to lock.

“What the fuck? Get out of here, bitch,” Willam slurred, pulling some hair out of her face which was tricky with the habit on. Leaning against the wall she was shocked to see Sharon in the cubicle with her, dressed as a devil with a red feather boa draped around her neck. She was looking at Willam with wide eyes.

“Hey. That’s, um. A costume,” Sharon stammered, Willam feeling a little funny under her gaze.

“Yeah, it is. Now can you piss off so I can pee?”

Sharon shook her head, her gaze switching into something that conveyed a sense of urgency. “That guy you were talking to spiked your drink.”

Willam blinked slowly, her mind processing everything at 0.5% speed. “What do you mean, spiked it?”

Sharon frowned. “How can I make that any clearer? He put something in your drink.”

Willam rolled her eyes, annoyed at Sharon’s mothering. “Well I hope it’s good shit, getting fucked up is the aim.”

Sharon gave an agitated sigh. “Willam, this is serious, he’s going to take advantage of you.”

“How do you even know what…how do you even know he’s doing?” Willam slurred out, acutely aware of the fact she wasn’t making sense.

“I saw him! When you were talking. You looked away and he put a pill in it. I tried to tell you sooner but I couldn’t get through the crowd, I’m sorry,” Sharon explained quickly, her expression concerned. “Are you feeling alright?”

Willam narrowed her eyes at Sharon. “Why were you watching me?”

“What?” Sharon asked, taken-aback.

“You’re at a party, why were you watching me?” Willam found herself asking, although she wasn’t really sure why. She continued on in a sort of ramble. “You don’t just watch people at a party, you don’t just stand and watch…it’s not a cinema, you don’t watch people…”

“Well, I don’t know, I guess I was staring into space and saw you both,” Sharon explained, her cheeks a little red. “Are you feeling okay? I told my flatmates to chuck him out.”

Willam suddenly felt as if she had to sit down. She sunk onto the toilet seat. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“Christ, Willam, you had at least three drinks out of your cup after he put that pill in, I’m not leaving you,” Sharon hissed, exasperated. Willam watched as the other girl bent down and took her face in her hands, kneeling between Willam’s legs which were splayed open. “Are you seeing things clearly?”

Sharon’s face seemed a little blurry. It was probably nothing, though. Willam nodded. The seat she was sitting on suddenly seemed very unsteady. A gradual sense of dread began to creep over Willam that she couldn’t really explain, and all of a sudden the party seemed incredibly scary and full of the unknown. Sharon seemed to be the only thing that was safe.

“I want to go home,” Willam found herself slurring in a small voice.

“Are you sure? You can stay here if you want, my room is quiet,” Sharon offered, her face full of concern and making Willam feel as if maybe she didn’t have anything to be afraid of. Still, her own bed seemed safer than a bed in a flat with a party going on, where anyone could walk in. Willam shook her head, which felt as if it was full of cement. “Right. I’ll go get Mayhem, she lives with you, right?”

Willam tugged on Sharon’s arm as she made to leave. “Can you stay?”

Sharon nodded immediately. “Have you got your phone? I’ll call her.”

Willam reached into her bra and produced her phone, which Sharon started scrolling away at instantly. She began to phone Mayhem who somehow miraculously answered. As Willam felt suddenly tired, she heard snippets of the conversation as she slipped in and out of a doze.

“…so you can’t get in? Okay, but could she stay at yours?…Perfect, thanks. Sorry about this,” Sharon signed off, putting the phone down on the floor as she straightened Willam up on the seat and took her head in her hands again, tapping it gently. “Willam? Mayhem’s coming, okay? She’s just outside smoking, she’s coming up and she’ll take you home. I didn’t realise she wasn’t your flatmate, but she said you can stay with her, okay? Don’t worry, Willam, you’re safe.”

That was the last thing she heard and Sharon’s face was the last thing Willam saw before she passed out, and even though Willam was terrified and didn’t know what the fuck was happening to her, Sharon’s words were a comfort.

Maybe she would be alright.

***

Willam found herself shivering a little as she recalled the memory of that night, Sharon’s face taking on that concerned look again from across the table.

“Yeah…wasn’t the most amazing party I’d ever been to,” Willam said awkwardly, peeling at the label on her bottle.

“I remember seeing that guy at a party in like final year and punching him in the face,” Sharon smirked fondly at the memory. “I must have been jacked up on so much shit that night, I would never have had the balls to otherwise. But I’m glad I did it.”

There was a small silence as Willam remembered feeling so small and so scared.

“That was a bitch of a hangover the next day,” Willam laughed bitterly, attempting to make the mood lighter. Sharon frowned.

“You kept apologising to me in lectures on the Monday, as if any of it was your fault,” she shook her head, the memory clearly paining her.

“Well, it was the only time you’d ever get an apology from me. You should have savoured it,” Willam brushed off her concern and took another drink. “Anyway, that was definitely when I started tolerating you. Couldn’t have let you save me like that and kept being a cunt to you.”

Sharon smiled warmly, laughing a little. “I still remember-”

She stopped abruptly, her eyes darting about a bit in panic before she took a swig from her own bottle. Willam was amused.

“What?”

Sharon picked at the label on her bottle. “Nothing it’s just. It was a good costume.”

Willam snorted a little and bit her lip to keep from responding. She still remembered how blown Sharon’s pupils had become when she’d seen what Willam had looked like and the way her mouth had dropped open a little bit. Her pulse thudded beneath her skin. She took another drink and found that she’d reached the end of her second bottle. Sharon’s eyes darted to the empty bottle and she stood up.

“I’ll get them in. Same again?” she offered, Willam only nodding and not trusting herself to speak.

She remembered everything that came after the Halloween party. The lectures that followed where she and Sharon had got closer and Willam had warmed up to her a bit, how they both laughed together until Willam felt that her ribs would break at this one lecturer that came in wearing an obvious toupee. She remembers no longer feeling annoyed by anything Sharon did, and instead feeling glad that she would ask the questions she was too afraid to, or smile when Sharon would squint at the powerpoint and refuse to wear her glasses, or even feeling an inexplicable sense of joy when Sharon leaned in to whisper something to her. At the time, Willam remembers feeling confused about how her feelings had changed, explaining it all away by thinking she was just making a friend in Sharon at last. Willam swallowed roughly.

If fucking only. It would have made my life a whole lot easier.

***  

It was just before the Christmas break- exam season. Willam was nervous. They were the first exams of her degree and she was determined to do well in them, if only so she could prove to her Mum that her degree wasn’t too hard for her and that she was, in fact, suited to it. And it was true, she was doing well- she understood her lectures, she participated well in tutorials- but there was one module that really fucked with her, and she found it incredibly difficult. Luckily, Sharon seemed to get it with no problem.

“I can come over and help you with it, if you want?” she had offered earlier when they were in a tutorial. Willam had accepted, happy that she was getting to spend more time with Sharon, and so they had walked back from lectures together to Willam’s flat in the freezing cold, Willam shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her faux-fur coat and hoping her flatmates had switched the heating on. Miraculously they had, and as soon as they arrived at Willam’s flat Willam threw herself down onto her uncomfortable uni halls bed and moaned that she didn’t want to revise, that her and Sharon should just get drunk and watch It’s Always Sunny instead, and Sharon had laughed and pulled her up into a sitting position and told her that they’d be done before they knew it.

They had started to revise with good intentions, Willam concentrating and actually learning something from what Sharon was saying. But soon enough, Willam found herself beginning to lose focus as the heat of the room prompted Sharon to take off the huge jumper that she’d been wearing, leaving her in a strappy black top and her red leather skirt. Willam couldn’t tell why she was suddenly distracted by everything Sharon did. Every time she would push her long, thick hair out of her face, or push her glasses up her nose, or bite down on the pen she was using, Willam had to narrow her eyes and blink a couple of times to re-gain concentration. She didn’t know why Sharon was doing this, and it was beginning to piss her off.

It was only when Sharon leant forward slightly and crossed her legs that Willam couldn’t stop herself from blurting out.

“Okay, Sharon, what the fuck?!”

Sharon was startled and dropped the pen she was holding. “What?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Willam shook her head, her eyes tightly squeezed shut. When she opened them, Sharon was still there, only staring at her as if she was insane.

“I’m not doing anything! What are you talking about?” Sharon snapped, irritated. “You’re behaving like a total idiot, you’ve not been focussed for the past fifteen minutes at all!”

Why was this feeling not going away? Willam frowned deeply. “Sorry.”

“Right,” Sharon calmed down, looking at Willam in confusion again. “Okay, so see this diagram? This is showing circular- oh, hang on, you can’t see that from there.”

To Willam’s dismay, Sharon shuffled closer to her so that she was sitting right in front of her. If Willam leant forward, their faces would be only centimetres apart. As Sharon continued explaining, Willam finally realised what she was feeling. It was the same fluttery feeling she’d get when she was talking to a guy when she was out, knowing that she was going to go home with him when the night was over. Except she wasn’t out and this wasn’t a boy, it was Sharon, a girl from her lectures, and she was feeling this way about her. Why was Willam apprehensive? She was never this nervous with any of the guys she’d hooked up with before. So why was Sharon different because she was a girl? Fuck it, thought Willam. She might as well.

“So at the top is the, um, households,” Sharon said, her eyes darting to Willam who was looking at Sharon and trying to figure out if she had the balls to actually do what she was thinking about doing. “And, um, they spend money on goods, which go to firms. And the firms then provide the incomes, which provide, um. Which provide…”

Sharon trailed off as Willam leant forward, placing a hand on her thigh. “Willam, what are you-”

Without thinking any more about it, Willam closed the gap between them, placing her other hand on Sharon’s jaw and kissing her. She didn’t expect the kiss to be as heavy as it was, and before she knew it Willam had her tongue in Sharon’s mouth. Sharon tasted of cigarettes, and Willam absent-mindedly wondered why she’d never seen her smoking before, but it didn’t matter because her perfume was all Willam could smell, and it was fucking incredible. She realised that Sharon had rested one of her hands on her waist, with the other buried deep in her hair. The kiss was deep and Willam could feel her lips becoming swollen, and she found herself wishing that Sharon would trail one of her hands down underneath Willam’s top and take it off, so she pushed two of her own fingers under Sharon’s skirt, her heart feeling as if it was beating at an unhealthy rate as she willed everything to go further, and just as she felt that she was about to burst Sharon pulled away. Willam opened her eyes and saw her in front of her again, breathing heavily with her eyes wide. Sharon spoke first.

“Um. Okay. Where did that come from?” she asked, Willam a little nervous and wondering how she had felt about everything that had happened.

“I just…” Willam started, her heart still beating too fast and her eyes unable to look away from Sharon’s face. “Um. I don’t really know?”

To her relief, Sharon let out a laugh. For a second, Willam wondered if it was meant to be mocking. “Sorry, you probably didn’t-”

“Don’t be sorry. I liked it,” Sharon laughed breathlessly. She looked momentarily as if she was about to lean in and kiss Willam again until she looked up at the clock on Willam’s wall. “Shit. I have to be at my tutor meeting in ten minutes. I need to rush off.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Willam blinked, a little thrown. “I’ll, um. I’ll see you for the exam, yeah?”

“See you then,” Sharon smiled apologetically, pulling her jacket on and rushing out of the door.

She didn’t realise she’d left her jumper and, like an idiot, Willam picked it up from its position on the floor and held it close to her, her head spinning and leaving her dizzy.

***

Sharon returned from the bar with four beers as opposed to the promised two, but that was alright with Willam. Fuck knows she’d need it, the way things were turning out. As Sharon sat down, she smiled apologetically.

“I thought two each, save us having to queue at the bar again,” she shrugged, tipping her head back as she drank some of her third bottle. Willam smiled tightly, not speaking just yet. Sharon looked at her inquisitively.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re thinking about something, I know that much,” Sharon gave a look of disbelief, and Willam sighed deeply.

“I’m thinking that Andrew cunting Brady will probably be balls deep in Courtney right now and that I’ve completely fucked the one chance I got to be with her. Happy?” she reeled off, giving Sharon an irritated glare and swigging her beer back, slamming it down on the table with a thud. Sharon only widened her eyes in amusement, then her gaze softened.

“You haven’t fucked it. She still likes you, I can see it,” Sharon smiled, Willam letting out a tut of indignation.

“Your eyesight’s even more shit than I thought. She hates me.”

Sharon took another sip, a thoughtful look on her face. “Have you actually told her how she makes you feel? From my memory you’ve never really been too good at admitting things to people.”

Something snapped inside of Willam like a match to petrol. “Don’t you fucking dare. We both know what happened when I tried that the first time, and from what I remember I wasn’t the fucking problem.”

Sharon winced, a small silence descending for a moment. “I’m sorry, Willam.”

“Whatever. Let’s just keep drinking,” Willam rolled her eyes, too tired to argue or push the situation further

As she took another long drink, Willam remembered what Sharon had been referring to. It hadn’t been the moment Willam was thinking of- it was another, after Christmas, when they were both still in their first year, and Sharon was right. Willam hadn’t been really big on talking. Then again, neither of them had.

***

Willam fucking hated Christmas.

She wanted desperately to look forward to it like other people, normal people, to be excited by it and celebrate it like the families in Christmas movies. Willam remembers watching Elf as a child, wishing that she had a magical long-lost-elf brother who would come and bring her family together and there wouldn’t be any more fighting and tension and her parents would be happy together.

But she didn’t, and her family was dysfunctional to a ridiculous degree, so Willam’s first uni Christmas contained terse conversation with her Mum about how no, there were actually lots of girls on her course and no, politics wasn’t just for guys, and yes, she was coping fine with the work and no, she was sure she didn’t want to drop out. Her Dad, disconnected from her as always, would continue his aggressive, tense comments to her and her Mum and, like a moth with anger management issues to a flame, her Mum constantly bickered and fought with him and broke down afterwards, Willam having to pick up the pieces.

So her Christmas holidays were dire, and they weren’t helped by her sitting and replaying the moment she’d shared with Sharon weeks before over and over again in her mind. She’d seen her once after that, at the exam, and afterwards she’d practically bolted out of the building, too afraid to face her. That was the last time she’d seen Sharon. She wondered how the other girl was doing and what she was feeling or thinking, but realised that she was probably enjoying herself too much celebrating Christmas with her family to even think about Willam.

New Year passed and she thought about sending Sharon a text, something, anything to let her know that she was thinking about her, but every time she stopped herself. If Sharon didn’t actually give a fuck about her, Willam was damn sure she wasn’t letting her know that she cared about her either. So time went on, and at last Willam finally went back to uni, away from the tension and tears and noise and unhappy silence of her family and back to the hilarity of her block. As Willam stepped through the door of her room she could feel herself instantly relax, her shoulders slumping in relief. She unpacked the gifts she’d been given at Christmas and said hello to her flatmates, then bolted downstairs to see if Mayhem was back.

As she wandered down to the other flat, though, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Now that she was back at uni she was back in the same place Sharon was, and so she could bump into her anywhere- fuck, lectures only started in a couple of days. She had to figure out what she was going to do before she saw Sharon again.

It turned out she had less time than she thought she would as, when Willam found Mayhem and they hugged and caught up with each other, she found that she was hosting a party that evening.

“I know that it won’t be huge since not everybody is back yet, but there’ll still be a good turnout- Rhea, Jackie, Mariah, Asia, Sharon-”

“Oh fuck,” Willam’s heart plummeted. “May, I can’t go.”

“The fuck are you talking about? What…” Mayhem then did a sort of double-take, narrowing her eyes at Willam. “Has something happened with you two?”

Willam tore her hand through her hair. “We got with each other in my flat before Christmas.”

“Willam! Holy fucking shit! How?!” Mayhem screeched, Willam frantically shushing her in case her other flatmates heard.

“I don’t know, we were just revising…we weren’t even drunk, fuck, and now I don’t even know how to react with her. We haven’t even spoken since.”

Mayhem hadn’t stopped smiling since Willam had told her. “I mean, do you like her?”

Willam made a face. “I don’t know? Like, she’s cute? I’d never thought about her like that until she was in my room, it was insane. I don’t know, though. I don’t know if I want to see her again yet.”

“Well,” Mayhem suggested, her face scheming, “Come tonight. See how she is with you. And then see what happens.”

So Willam spent the next five hours til the party exfoliating, fake-tanning, and wondering what the hell she would say to Sharon if she saw her. Maybe she wasn’t going to see her- maybe she wouldn’t come after all, but then Willam found herself hoping that she would be there for some unknown reason.

The party arrived and so did Willam, dressed in a deliberately short and strappy blue dress and towering gold heels. If Sharon was at the party, she wanted to look good. It had only been around five minutes before Willam saw her from across the room- skintight black jeans and a ripped band t shirt that seemed to be an accessory for a plain black bra. Her heart ricocheted off her ribcage as Sharon made eye contact with her. Panicking, Willam decided to pretend that she hadn’t noticed her and instead skulked off to the kitchen.

The night went by in a somewhat similar vein- Willam would somehow find herself looking Sharon’s way, then having to look back and pretend she hadn’t seen her. She didn’t know why she was avoiding Sharon like a child playing a game of peek-a-boo, but it seemed easier than going over to talk to her.

Except finally, as the night was reaching its peak, Willam had no choice but to speak to Sharon. Someone had told her that there were some spare cans of Red Bull in a box room down the hall, and Willam had wanted to make Jaegerbombs, so she’d gone in to get some. As she turned to leave, however, someone was standing in the doorframe. Sharon.

“Oh. Hey,” Willam slurred, awkwardly looking anywhere but at the face in front of her. “How are things?”

“Yeah, they’re good,” Sharon smirked, rolling her eyes. “Apart from the fact that the only way I’ve managed to speak to you tonight is basically cornering you in a fucking cupboard. Willam, what’s going on? You’ve just totally avoided me.”

Willam felt surprised at how eloquent Sharon was being, then drunkenly remembered that they were both quite drunk and to a sober person everything would have probably seemed like gobbledygook. Blinking, she shook her head. “I just didn’t, um. I didn’t think we had to talk? You know…what happened happened and…there’s no point in talking about it, I guess.”

Sharon blinked then smiled slowly, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind her. The darkness suddenly closed in around them, and the only light was three long strips of yellow from the hallway outside. Willam suddenly felt her heartbeat in her ears, her pulse hot under her skin as Sharon took a small strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear, the tiny amount of contact making Willam’s breath hitch in her throat. She was pissed off- she, the girl who could manipulate any boy to do anything she wanted, the girl who didn’t call anyone back and slept with people without forming any attachment was completely and utterly under a spell, and she could feel herself melting as Sharon’s hands found her hips and pulled Willam in close.

“Well…we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”  

WIllam didn’t know who initiated it, but suddenly their lips crashed together, both pairs of hands touching and trying to rip off any clothing that stood in the way of bare skin. Teeth grazed at necks, fingers tore their way through two sets of blonde hair, and Willam had never felt more completely and utterly torn apart and yet so put together all at once.

It was only when Sharon’s fingers had found their way under Willam’s dress and were inching up her thigh that Willam stopped, pulled away, and looked with distaste at the carpet on the floor.

“I live upstairs,” was the only thing she said, looking at Sharon’s huge, blown pupils before the other girl grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the box room and out of the flat.

***

“Willam?”

Willam slowly turned her head from its position looking out of the window and staring into space, and forced herself to look at Sharon. All of a sudden her eyes seemed far too intense and familiar, and Willam swallowed roughly and crossed her legs.

“We should stop talking about uni.”

Sharon looked at her suspiciously. Her eyes had that sort of glazed look, and Willam knew instantly that she’d had one too many drinks- but then, perhaps, so had she. “What? Why?”

Willam shifted in her seat. Realisation suddenly dawned on Sharon, and she let out a cry followed by a yelp of laughter.

“Oh my God,” she screeched, before her voice dropped to a whisper as she leant across the table, her eyes lighting up excitedly. “You were thinking about me and you, weren’t you? The sex we had…oh my God, you were, weren’t you?!”

“Shut up, no I wasn’t,” Willam put her head in her hands, angry that she’d been called out.

“Yes you were. You always do that little wiggle in your seat when you’re thinking about dirty things. It was how I used to know we had to leave a party.”

“Let’s not do this,” Willam rolled her eyes and tipped her head back.

“It was kinda awkward having to watch you do it when Courtney came into work in that pink pencil skirt a few weeks back, though. No class.”

Willam narrowed her eyes and sat forward. “Well if we’re playing this game, I wasn’t the one who suggested fucking in your flat kitchen after St Patrick’s day that time, was I? Classless bitch.”

Sharon laughed unashamedly. “No, but I don’t remember you having any complaints at the time. Wait! That’s a lie. Your complaints went more like uh, harder, uh, faster, oh fuck!”

Willam launched herself across the table and walloped Sharon on the arm as the other woman laughed. She could feel her cheeks were bright red, but she supposed that the more they were speaking about the whole situation the less awkward it became. There was a small silence as Sharon’s laughter died down.

“Did you ever actually get a chance to sleep with Courtney?” Sharon asked, out of the blue. Willam snorted.

“A lady never kisses and tells.”

“Well, A, you’re not a lady and B, you do kiss and tell, so give me the chat,” Sharon said, sitting attentive and patient.

“No, we didn’t. Happy?”

Sharon blinked, taken aback. Willam took a drink from her bottle and scowled at her.

“Surprised?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s you, you know? I guess I thought that would have all happened after the first date,” Sharon shrugged, taking a drink herself. Willam felt a flame of anger flaring momentarily inside her.

“Well maybe if-” she shut herself up. Keeping herself calm, she reminded herself that she probably shouldn’t say anything she would regret. Sharon seemed to sense that wish too, and she didn’t push it any more.

She could think it, though. The thing she’d wanted to say, and on reflection it would have sounded a bit pathetic out loud. Instead, Willam dwelled on it from the privacy of her own head.

***

The sex she had with Sharon was unlike anything Willam had ever experienced before. Whenever they were together she felt as if fireworks were exploding in her heart, as if it was about to burst or break. Her breath came so fast she sometimes felt she might suffocate. Every moment of every time seemed unreal to Willam.

But it was real, and it kept happening. She didn’t quite know how. It started off with the parties they went to- eventually the lights would come on and they would wind down, and Sharon would simply look at Willam and they’d both know how the night was going to end. Then it progressed into something that happened when neither of them were drunk, when Willam would be about to get ready for bed and her phone would go off with a text, or she’d send one to Sharon. Eventually it would just happen unexpectedly- Sharon would be studying at Willam’s, or just having pizza at her flat, and one thing would lead to another.

Willam didn’t mind. She’d been amazed at how completely not awkward the two of them had been about it- they were sleeping with each other, they made each other feel good, they both found the other incredibly sexy, and that was that. She didn’t really know what they were, but that was okay, maybe she didn’t really need to. Summer came and uni finished for her first year and she’d wondered if everything would stop and if Sharon would forget about her but instead they would call each other, whispered phone calls late at night as Willam bit her lip and forced herself not to be too loud and have her parents hear as she came undone in her bed. When they came back after the summer, their routine fell back into place again, and before Willam knew it she’d been sleeping with Sharon for eight months without even noticing how quickly the time had passed.

She didn’t really know how she felt about Sharon. She’d never felt this way about anyone before, perhaps that was why she found it difficult. She was still friends with her, that was why they hung out together and did things just the two of them when they weren’t fucking each other. Was that what girlfriends did? Probably, but they weren’t that, Willam reassured herself. It wasn’t as if she was in love with Sharon. Or was she? She didn’t really know what that sort of thing felt like. All she knew was that when she spent time with Sharon she felt calm but also so constantly excited, and whenever Willam said something that made her smile and show the little gap between her teeth Willam would want to hold onto her and not let go.

They were together in bed one day, naked and curled up in each other’s arms, and they were watching something- Willam can’t remember what. She turned to Sharon, watching the images from the laptop flicker against her glasses, and noticing how intently her blue eyes gazed at everything.

“Have you ever slept with someone else?” she asked Sharon. Surprised, Sharon blinked then laughed.

“Do I really fuck like a virgin? That’s embarrassing. You’ve embarrassed me,” she shook her head, laughing into the duvet. Willam frowned.

“Shut up you dumb bitch, no, I meant like…since me. Since May’s party. Have you?”

Sharon blinked again, suddenly looking awkward. “I mean, no. Have you?”

“No,” Willam replied instantly, unable to tear her gaze away from Sharon’s eyes.

“I mean, we could if we wanted to, right?” Sharon asked, her voice holding something that Willam couldn’t quite decipher. A plea for reassurance?

“Oh, Christ, yeah,” Willam nodded curtly, giving the answer that part of her didn’t want to give. It was worth it though for Sharon to smile at her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and turning her head to face the laptop again.

***

They had been sat in silence for a small while.

“How are things at home?” Sharon asked, her brow furrowing. Willam sighed heavily.

“Oh, fuck me. I’m going home,” she shook her head, despite not making any movement that indicated she was leaving.

“No, don’t. I’m sorry, that was shitty of me. I just wondered if things were still…how they were.”

“Yes, my parents still take every chance they get to mock and belittle my sexuality, thanks for asking, Sharon,” Willam stared coldly at Sharon, who for her part looked uncomfortable.

“So no better then.”

“No.”

Sharon heaved a sigh. “That fucking sucks, Will, I’m sorry. I just would have thought after eight years they might have been more accepting.”

Willam snorted a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, well. I guess if someone’s really set on the fact that bisexuality doesn’t exist then they’re not going to have their minds changed.”

Sharon shrugged. “Despite the fact you’re the evidence.”

“Despite the fact I’m the evidence. I should get Courtney to fuck both of them, then they’ll see,” she joked darkly, being bitterly reminded of the fact that Courtney was no longer her friend. Sharon laughed and Willam relaxed a little, glad that the ice was beginning to re-break.

“Do you ever think-” Sharon began, then cut herself off. Willam narrowed her eyes at her.

“What.”

“Nothing. I had a thought, and then I thought you’d yell at me if I told you it, so it’s nothing.”

Willam rolled her eyes. “We’ve already talked about the time we fucked on a dirty kitchen table, I think in the words of Yazz, the only way is up.”

Sharon picked at a bit of candle wax on the table with the lid of her beer bottle. “Do you ever think the reason you’re so eager to please Bianca and the reason you look for her approval all the time is because you’re trying to replace the mother figure in your life?”

Willam looked at Sharon in disbelief. “What the fuck. You’ve outdone yourself now, what the fuck is that pseudo-therapist bullshit?”

Sharon gave a calm smile. “Well I have been to many hours of therapy so some of it’s eventually going to rub off.”

Willam couldn’t tell if she was completely enraged or if Sharon was actually on to something. She shook her head. “You’re being ridiculous. Bianca’s my boss, of course I want to get her approval. It’s the only way I’m going to get anywhere in this job.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m your boss,” Sharon frowned, sipping her drink. Was this her fourth? Had to be. “Are you not happy with where you are now?”

“I want to be in Number 10. That’s the dream. That’s always been the dream.”

Sharon raised her eyebrows. “There’s more to life than politics, Willam.”

Willam sighed heavily and brushed some hair out of her face. She thought about what Sharon had said. “I’m at peace with the fact my parents are complete arseholes. I’m not trying to replace them, okay?”

Sharon nodded. “Okay.”

Willam looked down at the table, her head full of too many thoughts. Maybe Sharon was on to something. The very fact that Willam had wanted to distance herself from Courtney was to make sure that she didn’t go down in Bianca’s estimation. She couldn’t have handled it if Bianca had reacted to her and Courtney like her Mum had to her and Sharon. Shivering, Willam inwardly shrugged as she took another drink. It was probably for the best that Courtney wasn’t with her any more. The thought of having to introduce her to her parents made her want to jump in front of a car.

Sharon laughed. “Remember that time we gave Rhea a ProPlus and we pretended it was Mandy?”

As Willam worked up a fake laugh, she couldn’t help but replay another memory, one that she really didn’t want to relive.

***

“So, darling. Any boyfriends on the horizon? Any lovely handsome uni boys?”

Willam gave a swallow. Here it was- the question she knew she’d be asked, the question she’d vowed to be honest in answering. Christmas was a time for being truthful and admitting things and potentially tearing her family apart. If she’d learnt anything from Eastenders, she’d learnt that.

“Well actually I’ve been, um. I’ve been seeing someone,” she said tentatively, her heart breaking as she saw her Mum’s face light up.

“Oh, darling! That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you. What’s his name?”

Willam picked hard at a bit of skin on her thumb. “It’s Sharon.”

She watched, almost as if she was watching a movie, frozen to the sofa as she saw the cogs turning in her Mum’s head, then the penny finally dropping as her words caught in her throat and her eyes grew slightly wider. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Her Mum took a deep breath. “So you’re a lesbian.”

Willam’s stomach had never been so tense. “No, I…I still like boys, just I like girls as well. I’m bi.”

Her Mum screwed up her face, then barked a laugh. Willam’s stomach spasmed. “No that’s not…Willam. That’s not a real thing.”

Willam took a deep breath. “No, Mum, it is. Honestly it’s just…how I feel. Well, it’s more than that, it’s who I am.”

Willam watched in despair as her Mum tensed up, drinking a gulp from the glass of wine she’d been re-filling for hours that day. “No, Willam. I’m sorry. That doesn’t exist. You’re either one or the other. You can’t be both.”

“You can’t-” Willam started, frustration suddenly bubbling up inside her before she caught herself. She knew how things would escalate if she rose to her Mum’s bait, and she’d rather spend the evening having to comfort herself than mopping up the tears of an alcoholic’s nervous breakdown. “Look I know that it’s hard for you to accept-”

“Don’t call me unaccepting, Willam, because I’m not. You’re trying to make out that I’m homophobic and it’s not true,” her Mum bristled, the knot in Willam’s stomach worsening. Oh Christ, please don’t kick off, please don’t kick off…

“Sorry, I’m not trying to say that. I mis-spoke. I’m sorry,” Willam said, forcing herself to make her voice soft, quiet, comforting. “Obviously we don’t agree, but I’m bi. And I’m seeing Sharon.”

“See, you’re seeing her. That’s not a commitment. You’re just pretending, it’s just a phase. You can’t seriously be telling me I’m never going to have any grandchildren?” Willam’s Mum twisted the knife, her cold, matter-of-fact tone making Willam want to burst her lungs just screaming at her, begging her to listen just for once, to just once not make everything about her.

“Well she’s my girlfriend. I’m not pretending, Mum, I-” Willam stopped. She’d embellished the truth a little- Sharon wasn’t her girlfriend, they’d never breached the topic, but they were together in all but the title. And she was about to say the other thing, the thing she’d long been considering and thinking but never had the courage to say to Sharon herself. “I love her, Mum.”

Willam’s Mum snorted, swirling her wine around in her glass. “Well I’m glad you love her, because you certainly don’t love me.”

With that, she got up from the sofa and flounced out of the room, Willam sighing deeply. The knot in her stomach was sore and painful, and she tucked her legs up and hugged them close to her chest, looking at the Christmas tree lights in her living room through blurry eyes.

***

Willam suddenly stood up, cutting Sharon off halfway through her story. She didn’t really know what she had been talking about, too lost in thought. All she knew was that she had to get outside for some fresh air and, primarily, a smoke. Everything was too much, and in that moment she needed a break.

“I’m going for a cigarette,” she explained, before grabbing her twelve pack from her coat pocket and heading outside. The air was balmy in the way it sometimes was in the transitional period between Spring and Summer, and Willam knew she’d be safe without a coat- although she couldn’t help wishing for some cold, some sharp air to hit her face and sober her up a bit.

As soon as she was out the door she was lighting up with shaky hands, and of course, of fucking course, Sharon had followed her.

“Willam.”

Willam blinked once, twice, three times, four times, until the unexpected tears that had appeared in her eyes had gone. She sniffed and watched as a blonde girl and a dark-haired man with a beard shambled drunkenly across the street. She’d thought it could have been Courtney, but the more she looked the less it looked like her.

“Willam, what’s wrong.”

Sharon’s voice was soft and all too familiar, and Willam hated herself for agreeing to go on this night out. There were so many memories she’d not properly confronted, so much she’d blocked out for years and years, and talking about it all was only bringing those memories to the fore, forcing her to acknowledge them. Willam took a deep breath.

“I’m fine.”

Sharon frowned and shook her head. “You’re not. You can tell me. What’s the matter?”

Willam looked to the sky. If she kept staring at Sharon any longer then she’d cry, and she didn’t want to cry. She kept her voice level as she spoke. “You never said sorry.”

Willam felt a change in the energy of the woman standing next to her. She watched as Sharon pushed some hair away from her face and frowned. “I guess I didn’t…feel like I had anything to apologise for.”

Willam gave her a scathing look. “It was a year, Sharon. A year of us fucking about and spending time together and getting to know each other- fuck, you knew the complete shitstorm that was my family, I hadn’t even told Courtney that. Of course I was going to fall in…of course I was going to develop feelings for you.”

Sharon scuffed at the ground with her foot. “I just didn’t know what I was doing, okay? We were both young and I felt like I was going to live forever…all the drugs and drink and parties. I didn’t realise that what we had was so special to you and…well, for what it’s worth I’m sorry, Willam.”

Willam took a long, hard drag from her cigarette, her lungs burning as she sucked in a deep breath. Seeing sense, she shook her head. “It’s not your fault. You were my first real relationship.”

Sharon had the good grace to look ashamed as Willam took another drag. She didn’t seem as if she was about to say anything, so Willam went on.

“All this shit with Courtney,” she sighed. “Maybe if it hadn’t been for all that had happened between us I’d feel more open to admitting things to her, you know? About how I feel and about just going for it with her. It just ended so fucking badly with us, Sharon. I wish it hadn’t.”

Sharon sighed. “Fuck, I feel like everything that happened between you two is all my fault.”

“No, no, don’t feel that way,” Willam frowned, finishing her cigarette off and stubbing it against the wall. “Maybe I should’ve checked out therapy too. Maybe everyone needs a bit of therapy.”

“I’m a firm believer in that,” Sharon smiled a little and shrugged, her face suddenly taking on a look of gentle concern. “I’d have thought you would have gone to see someone at least once though, you know. After my whole…”

“After you overdosed? No. It was scary but it happened. I just happened to be there.”

Sharon shook her head and laughed. “You’re downplaying it so much, Willam. You saved my life.”

Willam sighed and shook her head. “Let’s go back inside. I think we’ll just be in time for last orders if we’re quick.”

Closure. It was weird for Willam after all these years. It was even weirder that she’d managed to go from hating Sharon, to being in love with Sharon, back to hating her, then to only mildly disliking her and now being friends with her again.

As Sharon held the door to the pub back open for her, the memories in her head seemed to sting a little bit less than usual.

***

It was New Years’ Eve, and Willam couldn’t quite believe it had almost been a year since her and Sharon began whatever they were calling this weird relationship-that-wasn’t-quite-a-relationship. There was no label on it, but tonight that was all going to change. Christmas at home had lit a fire underneath Willam, and if her parents weren’t going to accept her how she was, then fuck it. She might as well admit everything to Sharon. She certainly wouldn’t let her down as badly as her Mum had.

They were all walking up the big hill that looked over the city, stumbling in their heels and trainers in the pitch black which wasn’t helped by all the drink and pills they’d consumed. Luckily their stomachs were all lined with chips that they’d stopped off for on the way through town, Jackie handing over her card for the whole thing and Sharon laughing and adding on a kebab and falafels to her order. She certainly didn’t seem affected by all the food she’d eaten standing at the top of the hill, barely out of breath as she twirled around and took in the city below her. Willam watched her as she got her breath back, laughing at the sight of her. She was fucking beautiful, and it only made Willam more determined than ever to tell Sharon exactly how she felt.

“We made it with five minutes to go! Take that, hill!” Mayhem cheered, picking up a rock from the ground and launching it down the steep incline they’d just walked up. Willam giggled. It was so stupid and so dangerous, this whole situation, but nothing bad had happened yet so for now, it was perfect. Realising that she didn’t have long to tell Sharon everything, she strode over and pulled the other girl close to her, leaning in and kissing her deeply. She could feel Sharon’s dumb smile against her lips.

Fuck, she loved her so much.

“Hey,” Sharon grinned, pulling away and hugging Willam close. “What was that for?”

“I don’t know,” Willam sighed, anxiety fluttering away at her stomach. Was she going to do this? She pulled slightly away from Sharon so that she could see her face. “I just love you.”

Sharon tipped her head back and laughed, squeezing Willam’s waist. For a moment Willam thought she hadn’t heard her. “Yeah, and I love you too, you big idiot. You say the funniest fucking shit, Willam, it’s too much.”

Panicked, WIllam forced a smile on her face. This couldn’t be happening. She could have backed out there, pretended the whole thing was just a big joke, but for some reason she forced herself to commit to the confession. “No Sharon, it’s not a joke. We’ve been sort of…doing girlfriend-y things for a while now, you know, and fuck it, why don’t we just give ourselves a label and fuck what everyone else thinks? I love you, Sharon. I want to be your girlfriend.”

That was the moment that everything came crumbling down.

“Willam I didn’t…” Sharon’s face had dropped, her grip on Willam’s waist loosening. “I didn’t know you…oh, fuck. Willam, I don’t want a girlfriend.”

Willam’s chest physically hurt, as if someone had stomped on her heart. All the air seemed to have been removed from her lungs.

“Oh.”

She’d never seen Sharon look so awkward. “Yeah, I just…I don’t like committing myself and I want to keep my options open. I mean obviously I love spending time with you, I just…you’re a friend, and you’re a good fuck, but I can’t see myself seeing you as anything more than that. You know what I mean?”

Willam blinked and nodded slowly. Was she fucking serious? Looking Sharon in the eyes, she tried to search for something, anything that gave her a clue that Sharon was just fucking about and not actually being serious. She gave a short exhale. “I mean, I should have done this when we were both sober, right? Because you know..you’re high and you’re drunk and you probably don’t even know what I’m saying or what you’re saying.”

Willam found herself giving a short, hopeful laugh. Fuck, she was desperate. Sharon looked at the ground and shook her head. “Willam, no babe. I know what you’re saying. And I might be fucked but I’m telling you how I feel, I promise. I don’t feel anything…deep for you like that.”

There was a silence in which Willam looked at all the stars in the sky, balls of burning gas. She focused on them until her eyes hurt.

“Is that…alright?” Sharon asked, the awkwardness in her voice drawing everything out. Composing herself, Willam tipped her head back down and nodded briskly.

“Mhm. Yeah, of course.”

Sharon smiled and hugged her quickly. “You’re a good friend, Willam.”

As Sharon bounded her way over to the other girls, Willam trudged behind her until she found Mayhem.

“Listen, I’m going to go,” she said, Mayhem’s happy face dropping instantly at Willam’s words.

“What?! But bitch it’s almost time for the countdown! You can’t go yet!” she squealed, tugging on Willam’s arm. Willam shook her head.

“No, really. I really need to go.”

Mayhem looked concerned. “What’s the matter? Has something happened?”

“No, no, honestly it’s fine. I just need to go home, I’m not feeling well. Probably going to spew. But listen, I’ll be fine,” Willam said, suddenly feeling a lump in her throat which she hurriedly swallowed down. She suddenly needed a hug and found herself wrapping her arms around Mayhem. “I’ll be fine. You have fun, okay? I’ll see you when you get in.”

And then Willam made her way back down the hill, the freezing cold air hitting her face as shouts from her friends heralded the start of the New Year.

From then on, it was about healing. Willam still saw Sharon in lectures, but they didn’t sit near each other anymore. Sharon often cast her glances from across the lecture theatre which Willam forced her eyes not to meet. Of course they still shared all the same friends, which made the social aspect of things difficult, and Willam found herself going to less and less parties. Given that she shared a flat with Mayhem, she still got all the gossip and stories, so she had all the excitement of being there without seeing Sharon and without the inevitable downer and hangover the next day. As they entered their final year together, Willam began to hurt less and less but resented Sharon more and more, and suddenly their relationship had come full circle. Knowing that the year she graduated was the year that counted most, Willam spent most of her time in the library whilst Sharon, enabled by Mayhem, seemed to spiral further and further down a drug-fuelled rabbit hole. Willam hardly saw her in lectures. She still thought about her sometimes, a pang at her heart when she considered what could have been, but Willam knew her future was going to be good if she got the degree classification she needed.

It was January of her final year, around two years since everything began with Sharon, when Willam awoke startled and scrambling for her bedside lamp as somebody screamed and crashed through her bedroom door. In her sleepy mind, she only half-recognised the voice as Mayhem’s, but it was so full of terror she wasn’t sure at first. Finally reaching the switch for her lamp, she turned it on to find that there were in fact two people in the room- Mayhem, as she’d thought, and the other, Sharon.

Willam wasn’t in the mood. She wasn’t in the mood for drunk, drug-fuelled let’s-wake-up-my-flatmate fun at 4am, and she certainly wasn’t in the mood for properly seeing her ex for the first time in so long here in her flat of all places. On second glance, though, Willam saw that something was wrong. Something was badly wrong. Sharon’s eyes weren’t open, and Mayhem was holding her in her arms. Her body wasn’t lifeless- it was shaking violently, and blood was pouring from her mouth. Suddenly feeling as if she’d been shocked with a thousand volts, Willam leapt out of the bed and ran onto the floor.

“What’s happened?”

Mayhem’s face was covered in black tear tracks, and her breath came in harsh judders as she explained to Willam. “We just came home…we took a few lines, but it must have been stronger than usual, or cut with something…I only had two but she had five…”

“Five?! Jesus fuck,” Willam cried out, holding Sharon’s shaking head with both her hands and fleetingly being reminded of all those years ago at the Halloween party, when Sharon had done the same for her. Willam looked at Mayhem. “Did you phone an ambulance?”

Mayhem looked guilty. “Willam I can’t, they’d send us to prison…I can’t have my parents know…there must be something we can do-”

“Oh my God Mayhem, phone the fucking ambulance now!” Willam yelled at her, full of rage at how careless her friend had been. “You’re expecting us to treat a cocaine overdose with what, a packet of fucking Beechams? Get on the fucking phone!”

Mayhem looked embarrassed as she fumbled about in her clutch bag for her phone, dialling 999 as quickly as she could with her fake nails on. As she spoke to the operator, Willam continued to hold Sharon close as her body began to still from the seizure. She was unsure if this was a good or a bad sign. Struck with a bolt of common sense, she tipped Sharon on to her side, allowing the blood to pour out of her mouth and onto the wooden floor. She had obviously bitten her tongue, but Willam didn’t know how badly. She didn’t want to look and see.

“You’ll be okay, you dumb fucking bitch,” Willam whispered to her, feeling the panic continue to rise in her chest. “I’m here, and the ambulance will be here soon. It’ll be okay.”

***

Sharon blinked and drank the last of the beer in her bottle. They were back inside, and had somehow got back onto the topic of that evening.

“If you hadn’t got Mayhem to phone the ambulance,” she said quietly, only slurring her words a tiny bit. “I would be dead.”

Willam scrunched up her nose, not accepting the flattery. “Mayhem would have done it eventually, I had nothing to do with anything.”

“You saved my life even though you didn’t have to,” Sharon looked at her with an intense gaze. Willam exhaled loudly.

“This isn’t a superhero movie. I got my flatmate to phone 999 because your dumb ass took a drug overdose,” she snapped, wanting so much to reject the affection that Sharon was attempting to give to her. Softening, she looked at the table top. “That was the last time we really spoke, wasn’t it? Until you joined at work. Well, I suppose you didn’t really speak, you just…gargled out blood.”

Willam gave an awkward laugh, and Sharon laughed with her. Willam looked at her, curiosity suddenly filling her.

“Why did you never say anything? You know, when you joined Dosac. You could have spoken to me about everything. Why didn’t you?” she asked, Sharon taking on a thoughtful look.

“Why didn’t you?” Sharon asked, shrugging and knowing she had Willam well and truly in her place. Willam frowned, trying to articulate her thoughts which was difficult after five beers.  

“I feel like neither of us have ever been really big on communication,” she laughed, Sharon agreeing with a giggle. “I guess I just defaulted to dislike. There was nothing to say. Everything to say had been said years ago. There was no point dredging everything up.”

Sharon nodded. “I’d agree with that.”

Willam considered something. “Did you tell Alaska about us? I know she knows we went to Uni together, but-”

“Yeah, I did.”

Willam didn’t know what to do with that information. “What did she say?”

Sharon snorted a laugh. “She says I behaved like a first class cunt.”

“That sounds about right,” Willam laughed. “And she doesn’t mind us working together?”

Sharon frowned. “No. She’s not a weirdo, she knows I’m obsessed with her and you’re obsessed with Courtney and there’s not going to be anything going on between the two of us.”

“I’m not obsessed with her, I just…” Willam trailed off, jumping as the barmaid rang a huge bell. She looked at Sharon with disappointment. “Well, I guess we need to drink up.”

Sharon nodded. “Do you want to head somewhere different?”

“Nah. I don’t feel like talking about our bloody breakup and your overdose gave me many going-out vibes, do you?” Willam deadpanned, Sharon looking at the table and laughing.

“I guess not,” she smiled guiltily, taking Willam’s hand and squeezing it. “I am sorry, Willam. For everything that happened between us.”

Willam found herself rubbing Sharon’s knuckles with her thumb the way she used to do. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad we did this tonight. It was good.”

They began to make their way out of the pub, grabbing their jackets and bags but somehow keeping their hands intertwined, and they still didn’t let go once they were outside, alone on the quiet street. Willam felt odd and her stomach felt bubbly with feelings that were strange and yet so well-known.

“How are you getting home? We could share a taxi?” Sharon offered, squeezing Willam’s hand.

She shook her head. “Nah. I’m Clapham. It’s out of your way. I think I can get a night bus somewhere down the road so I’m just going to walk down.”

“Fair enough. I’ll head across the road, there’s a taxi rank down there,” Sharon smiled, looking at Willam wistfully. She hadn’t yet let go of her hand, and now she was taking the other one. “Hey. For old times’ sake?”

Willam considered it. They’d both been dumped, they were both pining after someone else, they both needed affection, and they were both friends.

Shrugging, Willam leaned in to meet Sharon who instantly let go of her hands and brought them around her waist, holding her close as their lips met gently. They were both tentative, as if neither of them were really sure what to expect. Sharon tasted exactly as she did eight years ago, of cigarettes and something that Willam couldn’t articulate then and still couldn’t articulate now. It was as if she was smelling a perfume she’d used so often and then stopped, forgetting its scent and then suddenly remembering- haunting, carrying so many memories, and taking her right back to a specific place and time. Willam brought her hand up to cup Sharon’s jaw, kissing hard and feeling the other woman’s tongue against her own. The whole situation was insane, but it was strangely comforting.

Willam pulled away first, just so that she could have the satisfaction of knowing she’d pulled away first. Sharon smiled at her and she smiled back, and soon the two of them were laughing at nothing.

“Yeah. I’m definitely still in love with Alaska,” Sharon shrugged, walking slowly out onto the road and making to cross it.

“You’re a rotted whore,” Willam yelled at her, still laughing. Sharon paused in the middle of the road, swaying a little in her heeled boots and tipping her head to the sky.

“I’m not a rotted whore,” she cried, making Willam laugh even more. “I’m Sharon Needles, Cabinet Minister! Sharon Needles, Minister for the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship!”

“Sharon Needles, the UK’s political heavyweight!” Willam laughed as Sharon doubled over in the road.

“Sharon Needles- making history! A legend! An immortal!” she drunkenly shouted. Neither of them had stopped laughing, and Willam felt as if Sharon seemed to be bathed in a glow of white light, as if she really was some sort of celestial being. Sharon’s laughter died down and she smiled affectionately at Willam, and the light seemed to be getting brighter and brighter. Willam frowned. It seemed really real, and Sharon seemed to notice it too as she turned around in the road.

It was only then than Sharon’s face dropped into one of complete shock, and Willam all at once realised where the light was coming from. The car could have been going at any speed, Willam didn’t know, but everything happened so fast as Sharon’s feet were swept off the ground from underneath her, her body rolling over the car’s bonnet, then windshield, then finally over the roof before smacking with a crack against the concrete of the road.

The car was gone and the white light was gone, and all that was left was the darkness that enveloped the street, the blood ringing in Willam’s ears, and Sharon’s lifeless body on the tarmac.