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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 1 year ago

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We’ve Got A File On You: Evanescence’s Amy Lee

I’m curious about the “Bring Me To Life” demo on this new anniversary edition of Fallen. Is this the exact version that you played for the label before they pushed for the rap part?

AMY LEE: Actually, no.

What’s the timeline on it? Where does it come from?

LEE: We did, like, at least nine demos of “Bring Me To Life.” Because they had decided this was the song that’s gonna be the first single, and we’re gonna put a whole bunch of focus on this breaking-in point. So, they just kept being like, “How about do the whole thing again, but add this?” And they were paying us. It was back in the day when people got artist development, which was actually really cool. So we kind of had to do what they said. [laughs] “OK! Whatever it takes!” We just did that demo a million times, and that one, as far as I can tell, is the last one or one of the last ones before the rap happened. They were already giving us notes at that point, but it didn’t go there. The Daredevil thing hadn’t come up, and we hadn’t had that whole new wave of, “OK, now let’s talk about this whole new idea.” So I felt like that was a good representation of us getting it all the way to another version that you’re not already pretty much hearing on the album.

You’ve been open about your fight with the label about adding a male co-vocalist, and how the guest spot that ended up on that song was the compromise. Is this version that we’re hearing now, this demo, kind of how you still think of the song in your head?

LEE: You know, actually, after all this time, playing the song a million times live, they’re never done growing. Especially when it’s a song like that. We’re always gonna play “Bring Me To Life” at a show. We want it to get better and better. We want it to be interesting. And also, you realize you have moments when the crowd does something. Make space for that. Let’s make extra space. We have a whole new part of it that’s a little bit longer, where we get everybody with their hands in the air. So when I think of the song, actually, I hear it the live way, because that’s the way I’ve heard it the most in my life. And the rap is in there, just, I do the rap, which is pretty fun. It’s not really a rap. It’s such a weird way to call it. Anyway.

A ton of people feel a very strong connection to Fallen. It’s also a snapshot of who you were at 21. Is that kind of strange, to have people feel so intimately connected to this very young version of you?

LEE: Yeah. You know, that was hard for a minute, because it was always really a stress of mine in the beginning to bring them along to the next thing. Because I love making music, and my personal quest as an artist is always about sharing more and more and more, and showing the whole picture of my heart and things that I’ve experienced, and drawing from real life. And there’s just so many colors to a human being, and to the things we experience. It would be impossible at any age to sum up your whole self in one song, or even in one album.

So that was actually my biggest reservation about the idea of having a guest vocalist on the first song, was that if this is our only chance – because that happens all the time, this is the thing that people are gonna hear and it’s all they ever hear of us, which is totally possible – I want our first thing to be the best possible representation. That’s why there’s so much pressure on a first entrance single. It’s like, I have to show you who I am as completely as possible, for a million reasons. One of them being, if you like it, you get the rest of the album and you’re not disappointed. Or if you hate it, it’s like, “Wait, that’s not fair! That’s not it! Please listen, I have more to say!” A lot of that fear was quelled very quickly, because “Going Under” did great, and of course “My Immortal” did great, and we have brought so many fans along. At this point, 20 years later, it’s insane. I am so grateful.

So yeah, that bothered me at first, and I’ve gone through a couple of little moments like that. But I don’t feel like that anymore. We have millions of amazing fans who love our latest album. And I feel really proud of everything that’s out there. And in context, I love Fallen. It’s not that I love it less…actually, I do! I love it less out of context. In context of the whole picture of us, and all of our growth, after all this time, I love it. But if that was our only thing that we had done, it would really bug me. So maybe that’s the reason I can’t stop coming back.

The Early Days Of Evanescence (1994-2000)

You started the band as a teenager. What was the music scene in Arkansas like in the mid-’90s? Did people know what to make of you guys?

LEE: It was different. We were different, even for that. I always saw that as a positive. The time period is part of that. [We were] super influenced by grunge and alternative. Heavier stuff, too. But what was the music scene like in Arkansas? It was what you would expect. Country was big. Hip-hop, pop, whatever was on the radio. Whatever you’re being fed by the top 40. So there’s that world, and then there was this total counterculture death metal scene. So, we obviously didn’t fit into either of those groups. But the death metal scene was a little bit closer. Those were the concerts I went to, in tiny, sweaty, back-of-the-pizza-restaurant clubs and stuff. I definitely learned to have an appreciation for this really heavy, rhythm-driven music, and cool riffs, and double bass pedals.

That’s not where I came from. That’s not my origins in music. I was really into classical. Dramatic classical, and then Soundgarden and Björk and cool, interesting alternative music. So when we did our thing, what was different about us was, first, that we weren’t a live band. It was just me and Ben [Moody]. Kids making music, in my parents’ garage and his parents’ garage and basement. Any basement or garage, or studio we could borrow after hours at my dad’s radio station, or anything like that. And we were recording artists. We were just finding what we could and making sounds. It was more like an electronic duo, and then pulling in band elements was always like, “Who will do a show with us?” And we’d gather up a drummer, and a bass player, and another guitar player, and promise them pizza and play a show. And we got signed [by the BMG-distributed Wind-Up Records] pretty quickly. We’d only played a few shows. It was like, “OK, we’ve got to put a band together, and make this real.” So we really grew up and became a band in front of the world.

It’s a very old-school, major label A&R story, I feel like. You get discovered, you get plucked, and you get brought out to LA. That kind of thing doesn’t really happen anymore in the way it did then. What was that moment like for the band, to kind of be thrown from playing the pizza place, to now, you’re in show business?

LEE: It was tumultuous. It was fighting. It was so much push and pull. It was gratitude, as well, but I felt from a pretty early point that I was constantly having to fight everyone around me to not sell out all of our vision.

So, we got signed, and it was awesome because we didn’t have to do a showcase. Everyone else wanted us to play a live show, and it was like, we’re not really like that. We still have to put this together. And this one label from New York was obsessed with it, and they’d had big success before, and we were like, “OK, we’re doing this.” Just a really rash decision at 19. And then instead of it being like what it sounds like when you say it, which is they flew us to LA, they put us in a cool place, and it’s cool and we’re making this album now. That is what we expected. We thought the album was done. But I have to be grateful now, because what we thought the album was is nowhere near as good as what Fallen ended up being, because they made us do crap that we didn’t want to do and write more music.

We had the freedom of not having to have jobs that would suck all of our energy. We could make our job impressing the label with something great. So, we just worked on writing new songs and demoing songs for a year and a half. And there were rocky moments in there, where we had to fight for our rights, and go home, and there were insults flying around everywhere when we didn’t do everything that they wanted. But all those fights were completely worth it, too. It was just the right combination of saying we’re gonna write more and do more, and also fighting back on the things that would’ve absolutely bastardized this whole thing and made us something that wouldn’t have existed this long.

Joining Korn For “Freak On A Leash” On MTV Unplugged (2006)

How well did you know Korn before they asked you to do that?

LEE: Oh, quite well. I loved Korn. Korn was one of the heavy bands that I loved, and I was so excited as a fan when they wanted to do something with me. We toured, I think, right after that. I think that was one of the last MTV Unpluggeds they did.

I think you’re right. I miss it!

LEE: I do too! It was beautiful. I made up my part the day before, I came in, we ran through it one time, and that’s it. I loved doing it, and then we went on tour together after that, which was cool. And then we did it again 15 years later.

Yeah, you stayed close.

LEE: Yeah. And then we finally did that song live! Because we never did it back in 2007 or whatever, when we first toured together. And this time, I was like, “Are you gonna have me up on that song, or what? Come on!”

The Cure were also a part of that show. Did you get to hang out with Robert Smith?

LEE: Yeah, we were all on the couch together, hanging out backstage. It was pretty amazing.

Singing “Sally’s Song” For Nightmare Revisited (2008)

I saw the Nightmare live show in LA a couple of years ago, and Billie Eilish sang that part.

LEE: Oh, amazing!

It’s cool how that song is kind of becoming a standard for alt-leaning pop singers.

LEE: Yeah! It’s funny you say the word “standard,” because there’s so few [new] Christmas standards. These songs that we’re always going to listen to, they’re all from the exact same era. And I do it too. But The Nightmare Before Christmas is one of those really rare things, where there are holiday songs on that – countercultural, of course – that are gonna live forever.

Yeah, and that belong to a younger generation. Was Nightmare big for you growing up?

LEE: Yes. It came out when I was 11 or 12, which was perfect. I mean, it was perfect. I think Edward Scissorhands was right before that, and I was obsessed with that. That’s one of my favorite scores. And then [Nightmare] came out, and I was really blown away, because I have a big love for stop-motion animation. My first record that I ever bought with my own money was the California Raisins. [laughs]

Wow!

LEE: I have always really loved what we used to call Claymation, but stop-motion animation stuff. And seeing my favorite director [Tim Burton] and my favorite score composer [Danny Elfman] do something that was that, I was a fan for life. Immediately obsessed with it.

How did you end up getting to do “Sally’s Song” for that record? Did you know Danny at that point?

LEE: No, but he was really nice to me. He invited me over to his house. It was a really surreal, cool experience. But [Disney] just asked me. I also did a random song that I don’t know a lot of people know from The Muppets [“Halfway Down The Stairs”] on their Muppets tribute album, but I think that was after that, because they were like, “Hey, that went well, let’s do another one.” But they asked me. I got the call, and I said, “Hell yeah! Please, can I do ‘Sally’s Song?'”

Nightmare – thanks in large part to Hot Topic, I think – is synonymous with a certain strain of alternative fashion. And for a while there, I think Evanescence was as well. I was in high school in the mid 2000s and there was definitely a lot of “the Amy Lee look” in the hallways. Did you ever see yourself as a style icon? Was that something you cared about?

LEE: I really have always been into fashion design. As a kid, it was hard for me to choose a definite career path, because I loved music. I felt like music was my passion, and I had to do music. But I also had a lot of passion about visual art and fashion design. And I have journals full of all of it. And making things, I’ve always made most of the art in our homes. I buy art, too, but I get an idea, and I’m like, “I want that on my wall. Here’s what needs to be here.”

I am so lucky, because what I’ve been able to do is combine all of those things into this job. I get to make my music, which is the center and the focus and the king. That’s the point, but then all around that, from production design ideas to album art ideas. I usually sketch them out before we do an album cover. I have a sketch of every one, where I had an idea, and I was like, “This is what we need to make. This is the title, this is the vibe, these are the colors.” And then with clothes, too, I’ve been making my stage wardrobe forever. Not all by myself, but I design it and I have somebody with a lot more patience than me do the math and help me take it all the way.

Her Children’s Album, Dream Too Much (2016)

Dream Too Much came out in 2016. Your son was born in 2014. I imagine there’s a correlation there.

LEE: Mm-hm, definitely! Making music isn’t always serious. You just sing your way through the day sometimes, and I realized that extra after having a baby, because you just end up filling the space with happy sounds. My husband and I both do it. You’re just singing through the activity, and then it’s like, “That’s kind of funny.” The song “Dream Too Much,” I was goofing around on the guitar, and Jack as, like, a two-year-old was saying those first couple of lines while he was playing. “There’s a monkey in the band!“ He was talking about Curious George, I think. And then, “The muffins are sleeping!“ I was like, “The muffins are sleeping? Awesome, we’re putting that in there.” [laughs]

It was fun to just have an opportunity to let things be goofy and fun, and when you have that subject there, you know exactly how to entertain them. There’s a person to focus on. It’s like, “I’m going to make this the thing that you love.” Including the stop-motion animation, and the instruments that are click-y. He used to love this Nesquik commercial with a STOMP vibe. Everything was pencils on glasses and chicka-chicka-choo-kah stuff. My producer and co-writer friend, Will Hunt – not Will Hunt the drummer [of Evanescence], very confusing – we did that album together, and he’s this super, like, science-y, fun, experimental music guy. We became friends over our love of Björk. He’s like, “Oh, this is great. I have all these weird tubular sticks and junk we can make sounds out of.” And it was just this really fun experience where I got to work with my whole family.

It sounds so naturalistic, or something. It doesn’t sound like the discipline of songwriting. You almost make it sound like you were just goofing around.

LEE: We were having so much fun! That’s what it always should be. I think that’s where good music comes from, is that you’re enjoying what you’re doing and that translates. But there are different paths and ways. It felt like we didn’t have to think so hard and make it complicated for an adult audience. It’s funny, because you make choices that are just natural, and you realize that maybe that’s not such a bad idea in general. There was definitely learning through that experience.

Metalocalypse: Army Of The Doomstar (2023)

I recognized your voice right away, even though you have like two lines.

LEE: I keep meaning to capture the clip and put it on social media somewhere! I want them to hear my voice screaming.

I was looking at your IMDb, and I was somewhat surprised that you haven’t done much voice acting or acting. Was that ever something you were interested in pursuing?

LEE: Always. I’m always asking for the right opportunities to do that stuff. I haven’t always had the best representation, and I think that maybe held me back in the past, when I would have really liked it. I just didn’t have the access that you’d think that I would. But I’m not in that situation now, so I’m always looking for something fun like that, whether it’s voice acting or making music of any kind for a film. It’s interesting the way the film industry and TV industry work. It’s so depressing how often things go so far and then get canned. There are so many things that get half-made and then dumped, and I’ve written music for a lot of those. [laughs] It’s not my fault! Or maybe it is. Maybe I should stay away.

Well, it’s odd, because movies have been woven into the Evanescence story. You mentioned the Daredevil thing, which ended up being so huge for you guys. Did you feel like you were interacting with Hollywood at that time, or did that feel like it was in a separate sphere?

LEE: There were moments. Hollywood doesn’t feel that separate from the music industry in LA. It’s all one big thing to me, in my mind. So going to those awards shows – or, we played the screening party for Daredevil, and all the actors and everybody were there – I definitely felt like we were intermingled in that world in a way that was very surreal. It’s weird. It’s like, “Whoa. Why are we here?”

That’s a great era, the early 2000s, for action movies randomly having a metal song over the end credits.

LEE: Right? [laughs] You’re welcome.

“Goofy Sings Evanescence’s Bring Me To Life” (2014)

I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t ask you about the Goofy version of “Bring Me To Life.” I’m told that you’ve heard it.

LEE: I’ve heard it. I’ve heard a lot of things over the years.

When you heard it, what was your reaction to it?

LEE: Not to insult the artist…

Bring it.

LEE: Honestly, I was like “What the fuck is this? This is stupid.” It’s funny. I don’t have a huge response. So many people sent me that. Even more people sent me this recent, the music note thing. There’s this toy that’s a music note, and it’s floating and singing the song. It’s not singing, it’s like [imitates warbling noise]. It’s so bad. My favorite one of those, I will tell you because it haunts me to this day. Somebody worked at Chuck E. Cheese or Showbiz Pizza, and you know the animatronic characters of the band?

Yeah.

LEE: So, after hours, when nobody was there, I don’t know if they work this way or if this person programmed the show. I don’t know if they’re sensitive to sound, so they move their mouths and move around, or if the person programmed it, but they made a light show, and it was dark, and they’re playing the instruments, and they did like three of our songs. In the right state of mind, that’ll give you nightmares. It was horrifying and awesome. And I salute you, sir or ma’am, whoever you are. [laughs]

You’ve got music that’s kind of been absorbed into the broader pop cultural consciousness, and I guess that’s why these things happen. There’s also the Ariana Grande thing on Fallon, where she’s doing a vocal impression of you. Is that kind of stuff surreal? How do you even process that?

LEE: It’s not surreal anymore. When we were starting out, it was. But at this point, living with it for this long, the music kind of just takes on its own life, and you start to see it as separate from yourself. It’s hard to explain. It started out very surreal and strange, and impostor syndrome is very real, but I feel like at this point, I’m where I’m meant to be. It’s amazing and I’m proud. I am ready to accept my fate as goth superstar Amy Lee of the fuckin’ dark-ass band Evanescence.

#amy lee #evanescence #2023 interviews

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farfromstrange · 3 years ago

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Foreigner's God: Chapter 8

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: Daredevil and The Red Angel pursue their lead. Shit hits the fan. Eliza’s past comes to haunt her and Matt gets caught in the middle of it. She would have never thought of seeing his face again or hearing that name again. Something isn’t quite right with her, and Hydra’s real motives start to become clearer as her powers' true nature starts to unravel. But is she ready for the truth to come out?

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence and murder, blood, fighting, gore, language, this is just a lot of violence and angst

Word Count: 11.3k

A/n: Yeah, so… I’m just gonna leave this here.

Read Chapter 8: doomsday Here on AO3!

18+ MINORS DNI

The night was filled with so much pain. Crimes were being committed in all parts of the city; every second, every minute, and every hour the body count grew. During the day, the people couldn’t get enough of celebrating the miracle that is life, but at night, the monsters came out to play, and suddenly it was like happiness never existed. The world is vile, especially when the darkness takes over and humans no longer have to hide who they truly are.

Drip, drip, drip. The blood dripped on the dry asphalt. It was a continuous sound that filled the dangerous quiet of the night. The red liquid left a trail down the alleyway into the sewer. The darkness was deafening. It harbored the worst of humanity. Look down and you won’t find a bottom – the pit is endless.

Eliza stood on the roof, her eyes trailing over the city she loved. If she was able to feel the pain of whole of New York, the injustice happening every second, not masked by pretending happiness like it was during the day, she didn’t even want to know what it was like for Matt. Ghosts haunted the streets. Evil spirits waiting to possess all that’s good in this world. The Devil lurked behind closed doors, in alleyways, and sometimes even behind your mirror. She wasn’t talking about Daredevil. Matt wasn’t evil, he wasn’t hiding in the closet; he wasn’t trying to destroy the good in people. He wasn’t thirsting for power or world domination. He was just trying to help. The real devil hid in plain sight. He lived among humans just to rot them out from the inside. He wanted to get his way, no matter what the cost. The sacrifices he made were endless, and more were to come.

Hydra managed to hide for years. They had been declared dead and taken down by the Avengers in a heroic act to save the world. It was a story people still told with hidden pride in their voices. But the Devil comes in disguises, and Hydra was best at putting on caps and sunglasses. Eliza could only fathom what they truly wanted to do. They wanted to create powerful weapons, ones that couldn’t be defeated. Human weapons. They learned from their mistakes. Hydra was ambitious, they wouldn’t stop until they achieved greatness.

Their only chance was to find the Viper and use him to get through to the bottom of it all. If they couldn’t do that, the fight was useless. They’d lose. But Eliza wasn’t willing to give up.

“We’ve only got one shot at this,” Matt said behind her.

The cold night air blew through the streets. She flinched, involuntarily.

Eliza turned to look at him. “Don’t you look handsome in your little spandex outfit,” she said.

“Let’s not get into that.”

She chuckled at his defensive nature. “All things considered, it’s not that bad.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay, I lied, it’s bad. The black get-up I saw in the papers was much better.”

“I needed something that’d give me an advantage,” he said. “This thing protects me from getting fatally injured.”

“I get that, but why the horns? Who told you that the mask was okay?” she asked.

“You really want to do this now? You’re wearing a mask that covers half your face.”

“At least my suit looks good.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t see. You could tell me you look like a turtle and I’d believe you.”

“Hey!”

“Point is, this suit’s working and that’s all that matters.“

“The suit’s definitely working something,” she said under her breath.

He caught it. “What was that?” he asked.

“Come on, I know you can’t see it but that ass is god-given!”

“What is it with you and my ass?”

Eliza sighed. “I don’t know! I’m obsessed with it and I don’t even know why. No, you know what,” she said, head shaking, “I know why. It’s because it looks like that.”

“Like what?” Matt challenged.

“Like a fucking good ass,” it just came blurting out of her. She slapped a hand in front of her mouth. “Sorry,” she said.

Against all odds, he laughed. He held his stomach and he laughed at her. She was adorable. He loved it all the more, the blood rushing to her cheeks, her heartbeat picking up, and the nervous twitch of her thighs whenever he backed her into a corner. A truly victorious moment.

She frowned. She tried to look serious but failed miserably. “Fuck you!”

He continued to snicker, “Sorry, I just think it’s cute when you get all flustered.”

“Pff,” Eliza blew the air through her closed lips, “The mask makes you look like a duck.”

“Okay, you can hate my outfit all you want, but while we’re arguing, there’s a car heading straight for the warehouse.”

She looked over the ledge. He was right. “Jesus fuck!” she said. “What else can you hear?” It was supposed to be a rhetorical question.

He exhaled. “Twelve people on the ground, another five men up in the frameworks.” His head tilted quickly in one direction. “They’re all heavily armed,” he said.

“What else?”

Matt grunted. “Would you-“ he swallowed, “would you please take a step back?”

“What? Why?” she asked.

“Because your heart’s beating pretty loud and you smell like… like plants and vanilla and it’s driving me insane, I can’t concentrate.”

She lifted her arms. “Whatever, weirdo.” She did as she was told. With a little more space between them, he relaxed visibly and the twitching of his head resumed.

At that moment, everything else around him tuned out. He was completely focused on listening alone. Eliza crossed her arms. She couldn’t be mad at him, not when his gift was doing all their work for them, but god, the man was infuriating and she wanted to scream at him because he just brought it out in her. She wanted to scream not because she hated him but because he just drove her crazy sometimes. Daredevil was dangerous as hell but he did it so well, it was almost endearing in a way.

“There are two boxes,” he stated eventually. “One’s a briefcase filled with money.” The box though, he couldn’t get through it. He tried his best to listen for any sign of movement, tried to catch a mental glimpse of what was inside, but nothing. “I can’t tell what’s in the other. They must’ve reinforced it.”

“It’s probably the serum,” she told him “They’re desperate to get what’s left of it.”

“Yeah, but who’s selling it?”

“I- I don’t know.” A pause. “I went to church,” she admitted.

“What?” he turned, startled.

“After I talked to Tony, I went to church. I… prayed. Asked for guidance. All that ridiculous stuff I used to despise.”

“How’d that happen?”

“You said it felt like God gave you a purpose. I wanted to figure out if this was mine or if maybe I misjudged him back then. I talked to the priest. I never did something like this before, being so… vulnerable with a stranger. But I was desperate and I was just so scared. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Oh. Did it help?”

“Weirdly enough, it did. Perhaps it’s because Father Lantom is a really good listener.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, he is.”

“Oh, so you know him.”

“If it’s the same Father Lantom working at Clinton Church, yeah, I know him. I grew up with him. Saint Agnes orphanage.”

“Next door?” she asked. He nodded. “Ah, everything makes so much more sense now.”

He laughed. A genuine, real one this time. His head shook from side to side. “I guess the trauma counseling didn’t help much,” he said. “Still the same catholic-guilt ridden boy as I was back then. It’s a Saint Agnes trade mark, I think.”

“Trauma counseling?” she quipped. “What’s that?”

“Oh, my God. Now that explains so much more.”

She snorted. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, but let’s face it. You’re the one who’s the most mentally disturbed between the two of us.”

“Yeah, can’t exactly say no to that, so…”

One of his hands went around her neck. He pulled her against him, foreheads pressing together. It was an impulse decision. “We can do this,” he said.

She nodded against the cold hardness of his mask. “I have faith now,” she repeated her words. “You made me believe that there is a light at the end of this fucking long tunnel, D. It’s something no one has ever managed before.”

“I swear to God, right now, I won’t let you down. I’ve got you, remember?”

“And I’ve got you.”

His lips pressed to her forehead, an exchange of hot flashes and desperation. The cold moved in between them, such a bittersweet distance. The moment moved into memory like it never happened. A fever dream shared between two people who had lost their minds. The best kind of crazy, indeed.

“Can you take out the men on the top?” he asked then.

Eliza narrowed her eyes to see a lid poking out through the roof. “I can try,” she said.

“Okay, you go in through that lid over there,” - she didn’t even question it this time - “take out the guys that are scouring the framework. I’ll take on the ones on the ground.”

“But that’s twelve people,” she argued.

“I’m aware, but I’m not alone this time. I have no doubt in mind you’ll be done just in time to save my ass.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he was gone with the wind. The man was stealthier than a cat. She considered him even stealthier than herself, which was a big compliment considering she had perfected her level of stealth over the years and never got caught when she didn’t want to. Eliza shook it off. The more questions she asked herself about him, the more she became distracted.

The jump was higher and longer than she anticipated. Her heart beat louder. The wind blew across her face. She licked her lips. If she miscalculated, she’d end up nothing but bones and flesh on asphalt. Her conscience screamed for her to take the easy way, to slide down the wall and walk, but her heart told her differently. It didn’t change velocity because of fear but because the adrenalin pumped sweetly through her veins. She wasn’t scared, she was thrilled.

She closed her eyes as she jumped. Time stopped. She soared through the air like a bird, free of all weight, dangling through the air like a feather in the wind. Her feet hit hard gravel again shortly after. She bowed to land in a roll, foregoing the risk of breaking both her legs. Stones scratched at her hands, drawing blood. She opened her eyes in a gasp. The lid was right in front of her. She wiped the blood from her hands and stared down into the building. One of the men passed by, changing directions and proceeding. As soon as he was out of sight, Eliza slipped in.

She landed gracefully, one knee bent, the other stretched to the side. She followed the guard. He didn’t even see her coming. She synched her steps with his and halted when he halted. In his routine, he turned again. Brown eyes widened. He opened his mouth to scream a warning, but Eliza spread her fingers and silenced him.

Red ran up the veins in his neck, following up his face and into the depths of his eyes. His iris turned crimson. He went stiff. The hand holding the gun cramped so hard, it stayed glued in there. Eliza placed the weapon on the floor, sure not to make a sound. One hand went around his head. She shushed his glitching frame. His eyes closed. She set another strike into his brain. Instead of stiff, he went limp. She could still feel his pulse in her head. He wasn’t dead.

She was surprised at her level of self-control. She wasn’t a killer anymore. Still, every time she used her powers, the fear anchored in her brain. It sat there and waited until all was over to seep in fully, paralyzing her. The guilt and the shame accompanied the treacherous emotion. She stared at the man’s body. She was stronger than this.

Without further thought, Eliza swung herself from the railing and kicked the man on the floor below into the chest. He stumbled back. She punched him before a word could slip his lips. Her arm kept him in a chokehold while he slowly buckled in the knees. “Shhh,” she cooed. He fell into a deep slumber, leaving the gun next to him unoccupied. She unloaded this one too, bagging the ammunition.

Two down, three more to go. No one had picked up on the commotion yet.

Eliza took down the next two in the same fashion. Punched them, choked them until they fell unconscious, and made sure they stayed this way. Her fingers itched with the newfound energy. She’d missed the feeling of power. It was as sweet as it was bitter. A dangerous thrill to experience, an addiction in need to be satisfied. She was still an addict, after all. She craved everything she needed tenfold. The adrenaline made her impossibly high. She loved it. She savored it. Like a cake, she wanted to swallow every last inch of it.

The last man in her way turned out to be a bit trickier. He was noisy. He talked too much. The first sound he made was loud. At this point, the commotion had reached the crowd on the ground floor. Her cover was blown. Eliza kicked the man, but he fought back. He was a big guy, and pretty strong too. She groaned when his fist collided with her jaw.

“No,” she whined, “Why would you do that?” His fist was sure to leave a bruise.

He pulled another gun from his holster. What happened next was a reflex. She slipped the knife from her sleeve and threw it. She didn’t aim, she just threw. With a hint of fear in her eyes, she watched the blade slide through the air. It landed in slow motion, impaling the man just below his collarbone. She almost cried with joy when she saw it didn’t hit his neck or any other crucial artery for that matter. One more jab with his gun and he was done for. Eliza dropped the metal to the ground. It echoed off the walls. They knew anyway, might as well make an entrance.

“Suit yourself,” she muttered.

With a sigh, she climbed onto the railing. Guns were about to point in her direction, but batons flew into the corridor, knocking them off their feet. The metal knocked out two men at once. The others scrambled to hide. And that was when triggers were pulled.

Eliza leaped off the framework. One of the guards breached her fall. She grinned innocently. Tony didn’t have to find out. So she didn’t have to hold back. She released all she had and more.

A gun clicked against Daredevil’s head. Eliza, currently busy choking a man between her thighs, pulled a knife from her holster and landed it in the guard’s back. He dropped his gun and fell forward. The man between her legs went limp. She shoved him off with a grunt. Blood pooled in her mouth.

“You people have no regard for my looks, do you?” she said. She landed her elbow into the next assailant.

Grunts and groans filled the room. Lights flickered. Eliza‘s eyes fell on the table. The man next to it grinned at her. His hand stayed on the box. There was no time to react. In a loud series of cracks, each neon light blew out. One after the other until there was nothing but darkness.

Out of all five senses, sight is the most precious one. Without light, Eliza had lost the very thing that she used to anticipate behavior. The alarming rate of her heartbeat filled her ears. For a moment, she was completely blind and it scared her. She couldn’t see and the only present sound was the thudding of her own heart. Daredevil bumped into her. Their backs pressed against each other. Subconsciously, she searched for his hand.

“There are more coming,” he said. In the darkness, his voice sounded different. “I didn’t hear them before. They’re masking their heartbeats. I can’t count how many.”

“What are we gonna do?” she asked back.

“You’ve been trained for this, right? You’re a skilled fighter?”

“Yes, but-“

“Angel!” the call of her name was firm. “Can you rely on your other senses?”

She breathed heavily. “No.”

“I need you to calm your breath. Can you do that? Just, breathe deeply. And try to focus. We’re not gonna die here tonight.”

You’ve done this before.

Eliza searched for the distinctive sound of his breathing, his voice, and his heart, and finally managed to calm down enough to pick up on her surroundings.

“You don’t need sight to see, sweetheart.“

She did know that. She’d heard it before.

The sudden change of scenario slapped her back into a memory she’d long buried.

“Are you sure she’s ready?”

The fabric of the blindfold scratched roughly against her eyes. She could see nothing, not even a strap of light.

“We’ve been training her for five years,” he, the man she used to call father proudly, said to the stranger. “This is the last step. I can assure you, she’s ready.”

But she didn’t feel ready. All she saw was darkness. There were people around her, and she could feel them, but the fact that she couldn’t see them drove her crazy.

“Rely on your other senses,” he’d told her.

She closed her eyes, tuned out the scratching of the blindfold, tuned out the beating of her heart - Instead, she focused. Listening closely, she could make out the faint beating of five hearts. Thud, thud, thud. It was a steady rhythm.

One of them exhaled. Without sight, everything sounded so much louder. She focused hard on the sounds of the men around her. They were at least a foot taller than her and well-built. She smelled them - sweat, dirt, and leather. Their hearts beat equally to their heavy breaths.

The swoosh of wind next to her ear made her duck to the side. His fist missed her. On the other side, she heard the jump of a heartbeat. The next fist flew toward her. She grabbed it the second it brushed her, pulled it hard, and landed her elbow in the man’s face. The crack of his nose was loud and she smelled the faint scent of copper in the air.

The one that had come for her first tried again, but this time she was better prepared. She ducked and kicked him in the stomach. He flew back. Suddenly, everyone was on her. She made our heartbeats from all sides.

“Filter the most important ones out,” the voice in her head said.

She searched for the ones closest to her. She punched the man in the face, twirled around, and pushed the other to the ground in the same move. Her legs tightened around his neck, and his breathing became shallow.

A man pulled her up. She didn’t waste time bringing her head back into his skull. Using him as leverage, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kicked the others in a flying stance.

Her ears picked up a loud ping. The knife came for her, but she dodged it right in time. She rolled over on the floor and jumped back to her feet. He didn’t have time to react. She kicked him to his knees. He groaned. She set the blade to his throat and…

The squirting of blood was audible, the parting flesh squishy like a sponge. His gurgles sounded like a broken tap. She listened to his heart, the beating of her own growing louder over the sound of his pumping one. With each squirt of blood, his heart grew faster, then slower. It pumped until there was nothing left to pump and the beating just stopped.

Hot, sticky liquid covered her hand. The knife fell to the floor. Without sight, she could even hear the droplets of blood falling from the blade as it hit the ground. She heard it trickle from her skin and the skin of her victim as the last drops left his lifeless body.

With her wet hands, she pulled the black fabric off her eyes.

The sudden revelation of sight canceled out the enhanced other senses. She could see again, see what she’d done, standing at the feet of destruction. And as she stared at the blood on her hands, she wasn’t scared – she saw the sticky substance on her hand and she smiled.

“I told you,” he said, “she’s ready.”

Eliza closed her eyes. The world around her stilled. She couldn’t hear a single heartbeat beside her own, but there was the sound of faint breathing and that’s how she knew they were surrounded. A hitch of breath, then there! A heartbeat. She slapped her opponent’s hand away.

They danced around each other like a badly choreographed dance routine. She used Daredevil’s baton to her advantage. She managed to take out five men, all of them falling to the ground like dominos. She exhaled loudly. One of them had managed to kick her in the ribs before falling to the floor. She felt her bones twist and grind. The rib had to be cracked at the very least.

The sound of grinding filled the air to her left. “Knife!” she called out.

Before he could land the blade on Daredevil’s back, she jumped up, wrapped her legs around his head, and began to hit her elbows against his scalp. He groaned and reached the knife up to her, parting the fabric of her suit around the shins. She pulled the knife from his hand, angrier now, and landed it on his shoulder instead. It was his time to cry out. He buckled in the knees, Eliza falling with him. She rolled them on the ground until she had her knee on his throat, Adam’s apple squeezed beneath her weight. She sat atop his chest, suffocating him with her knee as she landed another hard punch to his forehead. He fell back, unconscious.

Eliza spun around on his torso. The breathing was too close to her ear. One second without focus and a fist landed in her face. She cried out. Her already cracked lip split open even more. She tasted blood on her tongue. Rolled onto her back, she took all her strength to jump into a kneeling position by bending her back. She pushed one hand to the ground to stabilize herself.

The knife slipped from her sleeve with ease. She reached for the one with the distinctive breathing, sliding the knife across his forearm. The sound he made got her to locate his position.

Knives turn out to be the greatest weapon in a fistfight. It can either impale or scratch a victim, it is entirely up to the wielder. Eliza loved knives. She had powers, sure, but nothing could hit as hard as a freshly sharpened knife.

She flipped the knife around and tossed it in the direction of where she expected the heartbeat to be. With another cry, she’d hit him.

There was a difference between Matt’s heartbeat and the others in the room. She couldn’t explain it, but his heart had a certain sound that made her feel calm. That’s also how she knew that he was rolling around, struggling with a man taller than him on his chest. She brought her foot up and kicked him off.

“Thanks,” Matt threw her way.

His voice distracted her momentarily. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind. The fabric of her suit ripped. It took another few seconds before the burning pain in her side kicked in. She groaned. Hot blood ran down her hip. The knife slid out of her with a disgusting squirting sound. It fell to the floor.

Eliza yelled out, then brought her hands up to his head. They stuck to either side of his temples, pressing down until she caught him. She trapped his soul between her fingers. She saw what he feared most. Failure, the loss of his family, death - she killed them all in her mind because she knew the pain would paralyze him. She wanted him to suffer. He let go of her. A sudden change of light in the darkness. She was quite literally glowing and the men in her vicinity suffered her wrath. The air sizzled. Red flames danced around her fingers. The men around her stopped, red roots tying them to the ground. The crimson ran up their bodies like slugs. She’d never done this before. The fireball exploded. She dropped to her knees, and she stared at her hands, the very source of what she’d just done, and she could still see the remains of the crimson glow.

A body dropped to the ground next to her. And just like that, it was over. The lights flickered back on. From the back of the warehouse, steps approached them. Daredevil and Eliza lifted their gazes. Claps filled the room.

“Ah, that’s just incredible!” the man said. He had an army of men trailing behind him.

Eliza shuddered. Not that voice.

“Daredevil and his little Red Angel.” His face came into view. “Didn’t think I’d get you both.”

Eliza peaked up through her eyelashes. Her mouth opened in an inaudible gasp. A vast, vertical scar ran right down his eye.

“Get the box.” His men hurdled toward the table.

Matt attempted to move, but he was suddenly tied by two guards. He struggled loudly against their grip, but they were stronger than him, stronger than anyone. She saw the effortlessness in their hold. This wasn’t something a normal human being could do. It dawned on her. She looked at the box. The silent thudding in her forehead told her, ‘I warned you’.

Yeah, I did warn you.

The men also grabbed her, pulling her up with ease. No matter how hard she struggled, they stood rooted in their spot, not once moving even the slightest muscle.

“Oh, it’s you,” Eliza said plainly. “Great? What’s next? Michael Jackson coming back to life?”

He opened his arms. “What’d you expect?”

“I should’ve known.” She blamed herself. “I should’ve known the second you shot up that lab. Goddamnit!”

“You remember my specialty?”

“What, missing?”

“Oh, that? That was just a warning. You know I don’t miss.”

“Unfortunately, that’s fucking true.”

He grinned. “Hello, dearest!” the greeting made her go sick.

“Ivan, you little bitch!”

“Now,” he said, “that’s no way to talk to your brother.” His laugh was disgusting, the words even more so.

Brother. Fucking lunatic. He didn’t even know what the title meant.

Eliza spat at his feet. “You’re not my brother, fuck you!”

“I’m not? We were both made by the same man…”

“We’re not related.”

“Yeah, but we grew up together, didn’t we, Angel?”

She grunted. “You don’t get to call me that.”

“What, he does?” He pointed over to Matt. “That man right there, hiding behind a mask? If god could see you now, infatuated with the devil. You spat on what you were meant to be! I’m sure he wouldn’t be missed if we just snap! disintegrated him.”

Eliza felt every bone inside her churn at the thought of them touching him. He was running through her veins like sweet gold, slowly tainting her, poisoning her, but she didn’t care.

Ivan cocked his head. “I see,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re good at keeping a straight face, but your body betrays you. He’s made you so soft, I can’t believe it.”

She copied his dark chuckle. “Oh, Ivan,” she shook her head. “We haven’t caught up in a spell, have we?”

“No, we haven’t. The last time I saw you, you never came back. You abandoned us. For what, the life of a hero? Ha! Pathetic.”

“I’m not pathetic, I just learned to face the truth. You are not the good guys, the world isn’t yours and I don’t belong to anyone but myself. My mind isn’t yours to control. I’m not yours to claim. I learned that the hard way, but I don’t regret a second I’ve spent apart from you or this organization that you claim to be ‘family’. You’re terrorists!”

“The truth?” He scoffed. “The truth is that there is no redemption. You can’t repent for what you’ve done. You’d have to kill yourself to get rid of all the blood on your hands. Does your friend know what you did, huh?”

One of the men holding Matt strongly against his will landed a heavy kick to his stomach. He groaned in pain. The sound sent all kinds of shivers through her. “Shut up,” she said.

Ivan smirked. “No.”

“So, what else is new, Ivan?” Talking. Talking always worked. Talking until her head came up with a plan. “The Viper sounds kinda cool, I give you that. I mean, I expected a lot of people to be behind him, but not you. Don’t know if I’m impressed that you made it this far or sad that you’re still only daddy’s second choice.”

She hit the nerve. Hard.

“You were the annoying little bitch that stole all the attention!” he said.

“Ah, you’re still jealous. Then again, it kinda makes sense. I’ve always been everyone’s favorite. No matter how high you got, I always went higher. Annoying little bitch? Well, ain’t my fault he loved me more than you. I mean, where is he these days?”

He turned slightly, chuckling on his lips. She cocked her head, definitely savoring the feeling. For once, she was stronger than him. With a loud yell, he spun around and landed his fist in her stomach. He packed a mean punch. Eliza toppled over, the men barely holding her up.

“I suppose that was fair,” she choked out, interrupted by a loud cough. “Oh, God. I think that was my lung. Well done!”

“Don’t,” he warned.

“Why, is he behind this? Dear old ‘papa’?”

“You know nothing!”

Her hand began to itch even more. She felt the heat creep up her eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he said, but he didn’t sound scared, not at all. “I warned you, Angel. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

She spat. “Fuck you, Ivan! Seriously, I mean that.”

“You’re making this so much harder. If you’d just stayed out of it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Who are you?” it was Matt who asked this time.

Ivan grinned. “Who am I?” He looked at Eliza, then back at him. “Why don’t you tell him? That would be exciting, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck off!” she said.

“Why would I ever do that? I haven’t done anything. Yet. I believe your boyfriend asked you a question, so he deserves an answer. Go ahead. I’m not one to interrupt my dear sister when she has something important to say.”

“Eliza?” Matt turned to her. “What’s going on?”

Mentally, she had murdered Ivan eight times before the sound of his voice reached her ears. She growled quietly. “You’re gonna pay for this,” she told Ivan before she turned to look at her partner in crime. She tried to smile, gently, but there was nothing kind about what she was about to tell him. It was pure evil and she hated that he was one of the few things she still remembered vividly.

“Biologically, he’s not my brother,” she stated, “But Ivan and I grew up together. He was with me in the White Room. We…”

“We killed people together!” Ivan exclaimed with pure cheerfulness in his voice. “Isn’t that marvelous?” he clapped. “It is, isn’t it? Your girlfriend is a cold-blooded murderer, congratulations!”

“I know who she was,” Matt growled.

“Oh, do you?” He looked at her. “Does he?”

Eliza bit her cheek. He got off on humiliating her. If she could only break free, but she knew as soon as she did, Matt was done for.

He asked the question she wished she would never have to hear from him and it broke her heart. “Eliza, what have you done?”

What have you done? She had done a lot of things.

“It was a diplomat’s family, I believe,” Ivan said. Her blood was boiling. She was crying. “Our first case together. The father had some debts, but he couldn’t pay them, and well, he knew too much, so he and all witnesses had to be eliminated. This girl right here, merely a child-” he walked over to point straight at Eliza as if she was the newest showpiece, “Was tasked to help me kill the parents. Just when I thought she would fail me, she stepped up. She was my ruse to get in. She paralyzed them while I slit their throats. But the daughter, she was smart-”

“Ivan,” Eliza warned.

“The daughter was smart. She somehow managed to get out of her room and had to watch her parents being murdered. Vile, I know. But that made her a witness. So our precious little Angel here took her gun-” he lifted his with the safety on and pointed it into nothingness. “pointed it at the poor diplomat’s daughter and-”

“Stop!”

“Pew!” He pulled the trigger. Nothing came out. But the gesture was clear as day. “Straight through her pretty little head. A shame. She would’ve made an amazing politician someday. Guess we’ll never know what she could’ve done, right? Her brains have been scraped off the walls and the blood stains are covered with brand-new wallpaper. Her body… well, only our dear Eliza knows what happened to it. Guess she wanted to keep the victory to herself. Such a good girl.”

She hung her head low. “No,” she whispered. “That’s not what happened.”

It was exactly what happened.

“Don’t lie to us now,” Ivan cooed. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“I didn’t realize what I was doing!” Eliza begged Matt to look at her, but he was so far away. “I didn’t-” she sobbed, “D, I didn’t know. I wasn’t myself. I would never intentionally hurt a fucking child. Jesus. That’s a lie! Ivan is lying. I was tortured into believing I was doing the right thing. He just doesn’t care about that!” she spat at his feet. “He never did. He does it because he enjoys it. He gets off on murdering innocent people. I’m nothing like him, D, you know that.” She was begging Matt to listen to her and he did, but he still kept his masked head turned far away from her.

“Liar!” Ivan’s accent accelerated the way his voice echoed in the big warehouse. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you drained the life from that child’s eyes and smiled with her blood all over you,” he said. “That’s the kind of person that you are. That’s who you were born to be. A killer!”

“No! I am nothing like that. Nothing!” She shivered under his gaze. “And I will never be like that again. I promise on my parents’ grave, the next time I kill someone the way I did back then it will be myself at the edge of the knife.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that. You’d look all pretty covered in your blood.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb. She flinched away, but he only squeezed harder until her face was trapped between his fingers.

Matt spat the remaining blood in his mouth to the ground. “Don’t touch her,” he said calmly.

“Aww, cute. He still cares.”

“I said,” his nostrils flared, “Don’t touch her!”

Eliza’s eyes widened. That was the sound of a man about to snap.

It piqued Ivan’s interest. “What if I do this?” His hand slid around her throat. She gasped. The feeling of his dirty hands made her sick. “Or this?” He pulled at her hair. “Or maybe even this?”

Matt broke free of his hold as soon as his fingers even had the intention to brush below her neck. She used the moment of surprise to break herself free, knowing it had been his intention all along. Took him long enough. She slumped her head forward into Ivan’s with full force. His nose cracked and the pressure left a small indentation in her forehead. He growled. Like an animal, he licked the blood that fell from his nose and he growled.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he said.

Eliza stomped on her captor’s foot. “Try me,” she said.

He wiped his nose, watching the red taint his fingers. A grin grew on his face. The words that came next set the timer off. Perfect Russian, she heard them reach her brain and translate instantly. By the time she had registered it, a gun was already pointed at Daredevil.

“Shoot him.”

She flashed her teeth. “No.” She wasn’t going to let that happen.

With one hand, she pulled at one of Ivan’s guards. She shoved him hard into the one holding the gun, just as he was about to pull the trigger. The bullet hit the man in the chest, the recoil sending them hurdling to the floor.

Daredevil was fast on his feet. He made sure to dodge every attempt to hurt him or her, for that matter.

“Oh, bloody hell!” Ivan pulled the gun from the back of his fancy dress pants. “Do I have to do everything myself?”

The gun cocked, but it wasn’t his. Eliza pointed the black barrel straight at him. All eyes turned on her. The crowd stood in a circle, everyone somewhere in the crossfire. They all had a gun pointed at them one way or another. The only reason no one was getting hurt was the fact that their boss was staring right down the gun of their initial target.

Matt felt the weapons pointed at him, he could smell and hear them. The tension was high, heartbeats were rising - it was all on Eliza now. She was the one holding the ropes. One slip-up and there would’ve been a terrible massacre happening. He raised his arms. Not even his batons could get him out of this. At least five guns were directed at him, the remaining six aimed for Eliza’s head. He was only human. A bullet too close to the heart and bam! He’d be dead, just like that. She was a different story.

“I guess we are in a Mexican put situation now, huh?” Eliza said. She cocked her head. “Who’s gonna shoot who first?”

“If we pull the trigger at the same time, I guess we’d both die,” Ivan answered.

“That would be unfortunate.”

“Why, are you scared?”

“Scared? No. Why don’t you tell your minions to put their guns down?” she asked him. “We can talk like adults.”

He laughed. “Cute, but no thank you. I’d rather finish the mission.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

“It takes only one command from me for them to shoot him.” He nodded at Daredevil. His jaw tightened. “I’d probably survive if you shot me. If, because I don’t think you have the guts.”

“Oh?”

The man to Daredevil’s left howled. The bullet went straight through his upper thigh. A clean shot. It missed any major arteries and didn’t even break the bone, all of that on purpose. She didn’t mean to kill him, not even subconsciously. Matt knew a threat when he saw one – Eliza was merely threading Ivan, showing him what she was capable of, but he knew from the sound of her voice and the weight behind her words, she would never cross that line again. Ever. She promised.

She redirected the gun back to Ivan’s face. “That better?” she asked.

The world could think of her what it wanted. She didn’t care.

“Impressive,” he admitted, “but I must say, I’m still a little disappointed. It was only his leg.”

When he pulled the trigger, the bullet went straight through the already injured man’s forehead. Ivan didn’t flinch, he didn’t move an inch. He held the gun calmy in one hand while the other slid into his pants pocket. Blood splattered across the floor. Hot liquid landed on Daredevil’s mask, trickling down onto his face, and the way his features contorted meant he could already taste it on his tongue.

Eliza gaped. “What the fuck?!”

“Collateral damage.” Ivan shrugged. “Wasn’t worth much anyway.”

The other men didn’t move a muscle. They didn’t care. Other than looking intimidating and knowing how to fight they seemed to have little purpose in this group. They were probably strangers to the word ‘responsibility��. Minions hardly ever make leaders, that was why Someone as sadistic as Ivan was perfect for the position. He was clinically insane. He didn’t care about anyone but himself, he never had.

She rolled her shoulders. Was he able to call her bluff? She hoped not. “Shoot me then,” she said. “You want to hurt someone, hurt me. Come on! We’ll see what I’m capable of.”

“I would, but I can’t. Sorry.” The grin was shit-eating.

“Why, you’d lose your job?”

“I’d lose my life.” It seemed like he wasn’t happy with that and she couldn’t blame him. Having your life depend on the fate of someone else sucks.

She hissed, “Bummer.”

“If it was up to me, you’d already be dead, but guess I’m working with a hypocrite. Someone has a soft spot for you and we both know who it is.”

“Shut up!” Eliza clapped back.

“You want to tell him or should I?” he asked.

“He’s alive?” Her heart beat up to her chest. It was the only thing she felt. Every last inch of her body was numb. She should’ve been scared, angry, and feral, but she wasn’t. The only thing in her eyes was betrayal.

Ivan hummed. “You can’t kill someone like him.” The safety flicked off underneath his fingertip. “He did everything for you, he even made me spare you and that’s how you repay him?”

“Say it!” she ordered.

He bit his cheek. “You’re not in the spot to make demands, traitor!”

“I’m not a traitor! You’re on the wrong side, buddy. You’re not heroes, you’re not trying to save the world; you’re trying to ruin it! That doesn’t make you worth more than anyone else. Now, say it! Say the words! Do it!”

“If that’s so,” he said. “Hail Hydra!”

The words finally opened something in her. It unleashed darkness she’d locked away. Her eyes glowed red. For the first time, she saw a hint of fear in his eyes. The men weren’t strong enough to hold her.

There are no bullets in there. Just as she finished the train of thought, he pulled the trigger. Her eyes fell close. She expected to hear the shot penetrate the sound barrier. She expected the loud sound of a skull cracking and blood quirting onto the wall behind them. She even expected to find Matt on the floor, dead, but nothing happened.

When she opened her eyes, Ivan fiddled with the gun. “What the fuck!” he muttered. The trigger was blocked.

Eliza frowned. “What the fuck?” she said. She had no idea where that came from. “What the fuck!” It was possible that she was more surprised than him.

“What did you just do?” Ivan glared at her. “You little witch!”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up,” and she hit him across the face.

That was when the riot began. The sudden change of events caused a short moment of unconcentrated staring and so Matt struck them. He threw the baton forward, with the other hand he elbowed another assailant, and then he punched the last one in his vicinity. Guns flew to the floor. He kicked them away. He unloaded whatever he could find and made sure to get the ammunition as far away as possible.

Ivan came for her. She dodged his punch, the next, and the one after. They danced like this until she finally landed a punch of her own. He licked his lip. “Huh.”

“I don’t know what they gave you,” she panted between hits, “but not a single trace of the serum stands a chance against me.”

“We’re not Steve Rogers.” She felt her nose crack under his fist. “And we’re not Bucky Barnes!” The pressure on her already bruised ribs and the gash in her side sent her flying backward. She hit the metal column with her back. He was stronger than her, undoubtedly so. Her lungs burned.

“The Winter Soldier was weak!” he said. His large frame stepped closer. “Hydra realized their mistakes and tried to do better! We are stronger than everyone. We are stronger than Bucky Barnes and stronger than Steve Rogers will ever be.”

Eliza cried out when his hand wrapped around her throat. The feeling of his strong fingers around her pulse point was proof enough that she wasn’t dreaming.

“But are you stronger than me?” she asked.

“It’s sweet you think you’ve got anything against us.”

“Bucky Barnes isn’t weak. Neither is Steve Rogers and neither am I.”

He laughed. “Then where are they now?”

Eliza swallowed her tears. “I can be your worst nightmare,” she said.

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She swung her feet dangling in the air between his thighs. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Motherf-“ he let go of her.

“Even super soldiers are just men. Kick in the balls works every time.”

He caught her foot in mid-air. His eyebrows furrowed and he threw her over his shoulder. The hard floor dug into her stomach. She coughed.

“Takes a lot more than that to destroy me!” he said.

“Yeah, I figured.” Eliza jumped back to her feet. She pointed her palm at him. His veins ran hot, but the red never reached his eyes. She pushed more and more, but her powers didn’t budge. She couldn’t feel him. Her face strained with every jolt of electricity. She moved her hands together, squeezed, trying to lure him in; she tried to project pictures into his mind, turn him to mush, but it wasn’t working.

Ivan laughed loudly. The fear vanished from his face. “Can’t believe it’s working.”

“What the-“

He lifted his shirt. The small device stuck to his mutilated skin. Something was running through his system, something that was the opposite of what was cursing through hers; he might’ve not realized it yet but it was poisoning him. The veins around the device were slowly turning black.

“Say that again about being my worst nightmare?” He flicked a switch on the device.

Eliza cocked her head at the motion. The circle was surrounded by small lights. With every second, another one began to glow red. Once full, it emitted a shrill sequence. The sound tore through her brain. Her ears rang, like the constant ringing of a bell but as the seconds went on, they grew louder and higher. The higher it got, the more painful it became. Her entire body contracted. Her muscles strained. The pain was sharp, stronger than anything she’d felt before. It was located at the front of her brain, but it was quick to turn the blood in her veins into acid. The screws and the knives drilled into her head. The world around her blurred. The pictures in her mind flickered like broken lightbulbs. Memories, screams, blood – she was fading into oblivion.

“Hydra used special forces to shape your powers into something different, but what you have in your blood is so much more powerful than that,” she heard Ivan say. “It’s the only reason I won’t kill you. We managed to create a device to stop your little mind games from working. It’s supposed to trap you, it’s supposed to make you weak. Hurts, doesn’t it?”

She couldn’t form a sentence. As she closed her eyes in dizziness, she stood in the red wasteland she used to channel emotions. She stood there for a while, letting the smoke fill her lungs. She couldn’t sort the faint creatures in the dessert into categories. They were strangers, soulless monsters trying to eat her alive.

“Turn it off!” she pressed through gritted teeth.

“How about I take you with me instead?”

The response lay on her tongue, but she was cut off by her scream of agony.

“What was that?” he quipped. “Was that a yes? Good, I didn’t ask.” He pulled something from his pants again. “What do you think about the handcuffs? I kind of like them. They’re special though. The same technology is used in this sweet device here. I suppose it’d hurt even more since it’d be on your body. Care to try it?”

Eliza fell to her knees, seconds away from passing out. Though as fast as the pain had come, it stopped. Ivan grunted. The baton hit him straight in the temple. His hand slipped from the device. The red in the circle disappeared one by one.

She exhaled in relief. “Oh, thank God,” she couldn’t help it.

Ivan glared at his attacker. “While that was an impressive proof of his devotion to you, it was also fucking rude,” he said. “Who gave him these things?” he held the baton.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. The anger boiled in her veins. As her powers came back, the strength only fueled the hatred. “What matters is that I’m not going anywhere with you. Instead, I’m gonna ruin you, Ivan. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Ivan sighed. “Until death, it is, then.”

Eliza charged at him. She spun around. Just when she thought she had the upper hand, his arms kept her locked in the position around his waist. Two steps further and she suddenly felt the cold surface of the table underneath her. It broke as he threw her into it.

“This seems familiar,” he said.

Eliza leaned up on her elbows. Ivan soared aside and then Matt was on top of him. They both groaned as they rolled across the warehouse.

“Damn,” she said.

Ivan struggled back to his feet. “You are getting on my last nerve, Daredevil!”

Matt punched to cut him off. “Tell me what Hydra wants!” he said. Once again, not Matt. She had to remind herself that he was two different people and that this one was nowhere close to the friendly pro-bono lawyer she met at the police station. This was pure rage, fueled by fire. The devil’s child.

“Like hell, I will!” he said.

“Tell me! Tell me how you managed to come back from the dead!” Punch. “Tell me what you’re dealing with!” Punch. “And tell me what the fuck you want with her because I’d rather die than let you touch her!”

He chuckled darkly into the Devil’s face. “That can be arranged.”

Eliza, who’d just examined the box and was searching through the unconscious buyer’s pockets for the keys, lifted her head in horror. Still sensitive after the fight in the darkness, a blade sheathed. “No,” she called out. “Ma- D!”

The knife was supposed to bounce off his suit. He’d told her on the side once that it was made to protect him from blades and bullets. This knife though did not only sound different but it also looked different. It was black, shiny, and sharper than a needle. She heard his – Matt’s – desperate cry as the blade penetrated his skin. At first, it only scratched him, but he was taken aback by it enough for Ivan to hit him again. This time, the knife bore into him. He cried out. It got stuck in his side as he fell to the floor. The Viper dug the blade deeper until he couldn’t scream anymore. His mouth stayed open as he twisted the knife in his stomach.

“I read about you,” he said. “I read about your suit. I know everything about you, Daredevil! Or shall I say, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” He twisted again. Matt cried. “Well, let me tell you something: the difference between me and you is that I am not afraid to kill someone!”

“Then kill me!” Eliza was surprised at how steady her voice sounded. She held the box in her hands. “I know you said you can’t, but let’s face it, you want to. You’ve wanted to ever since we met. Kill me now because I’ve got your precious delivery right here and I won’t hesitate to destroy it. How long is it gonna take to replicate it? Weeks, months? With Pfeiffer gone, who else do you have left that knows how to make this?”

Ivan sighed. He towered over her. Her hand held red fire and even though she knew it did nothing, it was the only way to protect herself.

“I know what’s in this, Ivan. And I know who wants it. I know what you’re doing with it and I can promise you this: I won’t stop until I’ve found you and burned you down. I did it once, I’ll do it again. I sold you out. I got SHIELD to burn the place down. I freed the children you kept there. I made sure you never get to see the light of day again. And when you came back, poisoned SHIELD tried to get me back, I burned you down again. I did! You think I won’t do it again? Think again!”

“You and your friend have got nothing on us!” He pulled his knife, dripping with blood.

“Come and find out, if you dare.”

She could see the anger burning in his eyes, the rage behind them. It had been her plan all along. Rage made people blind. The super soldier serum enhanced the features you already carried before. Rage hit double as hard. It made you forget what you’ve been working towards in the first place. Only for a moment, but a moment was all she needed.

Eliza bent her back to dodge the knife. The box slid over to Matt. He caught it. He had trouble walking, but he swallowed the pain and began to run for the entrance. She pulled Ivan’s arm to the side. The knife fell from his hand. Again, she punched him.

He stumbled back, half of his face now covered in blood. He didn’t have time to recover though; Eliza went back at him with his knife. It cut through his sleeve and he yelled as she cut open his bicep. She threw it over his fist into the other hand, landing the blade in the other arm as well. With both biceps bleeding, she pulled his shirt up and pulled the device from his torso. He screamed out. It had been attached to his body and she just pulled half of his skin off. She tossed it away, the knife toppling with it.

Ivan pressed a hand to his side. She stood above him, head cocked. “That all you got?” she asked.

“You-“ he said, blood pooling in his mouth, “he was right about you! I thought you’d gone weak-“ Eliza slapped her hands together, the spark igniting in balls of crimson energy. “But you’re strong, very strong.” His eyes fluttered at the picture in front of him.

“You’re scared,” Eliza cooed. “I can feel it.”

“I don’t get scared.”

“You are. Fear is the only emotion that cannot be hidden. I could make this entire room feel fear, I could put you into any scenario possible and feed off your fears. But I won’t because I am not who he says I am! Not anymore. I am not a monster anymore, you are!”

She pulled him up by the neck. He groaned as she crossed his arms behind his back. “I stand for justice now,” she growled into his ear. “And you’re gonna suffer for what you did.”

He chuckled. “I beg to differ.”

“What?”

The sound of fighting behind her made her turn around. Four of the men they had fought before were back on their feet and Daredevil was struggling to hold his ground. Eliza exhaled. This was nowhere close to being in her control.

She tried to run, but the Viper grabbed her wrist, and suddenly, she was trapped again. The cuffs he had displayed earlier clicked. The life drained out of her in no less than a second. It didn’t hurt as much as the shrill sound, but as the green lights turned red, she felt weaker and weaker until all she could do was bow to her knees. Her muscles tensed. The migraine was back. She threw her head back, eyes screwed shut, and she prayed. She prayed to God to help them. She prayed for them to win.

Ivan grabbed a fist of her hair. “I don’t stand for justice,” he said. “I stand for Hydra, and we’re back, stronger than ever. Not even you can change that now, Red Demon.”

The darkness was spinning inside of her. “Don’t,” she tried to say, but her tongue was numb.

“But you are.”

He grabbed her body and tossed her across the room like a piece of trash. Every inch of her body was in pain. She felt every bone and every muscle; blood stuck to her face, head, and rib. But most of all, her soul was thudding and burning. What had made her numb hit her straight across the face. She felt it all at once - she felt the pain, guilt, and regret. She felt the anger the name caused within her, but also the fear.

“You can control the fear of others,” he said. His steps came closer. “But not your own.”

Eliza looked up. “You’re wrong!”

He pulled her by the hair again, lifting her and tossing her next to Matt who was now kneeling on the ground. They’d removed his mask, and tossed it somewhere in the room. His head was bleeding, his side was bleeding - he was just one huge ball of blood and gore. His breaths came shallow. He was bleeding out.

“Seize her!” Ivan ordered his men. She was easy prey at this point. Her wrists began to burn, but with all that was happening, she didn’t care. She was tired.

They hauled her up like a wet sack of potatoes. “Where do you want her?” one of them asked.

“The trunk,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“But before you do,” - he pointed his gun at Daredevil - “He looks so pretty on his knees. Don’t want you to miss the show, Red Demon.”

Eliza shook her head. She had to get out of these cuffs, but they were a literal jail for her powers. She had nowhere to turn. They were all she had. Without them, she was useless. She wasn’t even human at this point. Without her powers, she walked along the line between life and death, with the tendency to wave more to the latter. She was sure she was going to die any minute. Until he turned to her. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

The ringing in her ears turned into the background. She focused. Hydra made her into something dangerous, that much was true, but she had these powers before. She was born like this. There was something else lurking beneath and lately, it started to show more and more as the last effects of Hydra’s torture and manipulation wore off.

Matt was the one to push her off the cliff and force her to fly.

Her eyes flew open, irises burning red. The color reached into her blood. Starting from her heart, it ran through her entire body until she was glowing. She looked all celestial like this, the only spot of color in the first warehouse. She matched with the blood on the ground. The cuffs broke. The metal cracked. The lights went out.

She hit the man on her right, then the one on her left. Red roots traveled the floor until they had wrapped around the men circling Matt. She smelled their fear. She tasted it on the tip of her tongue. “You can’t force me into a cage, Ivan,” she pushed out. “I told you, I’m done.”

“What the-” he turned to look at her. “How did you do that?!”

She tossed the cuffs at his feet. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“This isn’t supposed to be possible!”

“You have no idea what’s possible.” Eliza snapped her fingers. The men fell like dominos.

Ivan glared at her. The gun wavered. It landed on her. “Don’t,” he warned.

“Or what?” she challenged.

Matt swore he’d never heard someone be so calm. Not even her hand was trembling. It was terrifying, or it should’ve been, but he knew better. She could’ve killed him already, but she hadn’t. She wasn’t a monster. He refused to believe what Ivan said. Eliza wasn’t a monster. Perhaps that was Matt speaking, but Daredevil knew his Angel wasn’t capable of killing someone, no matter how hard she threatened. But perhaps, he’d also been wrong about her.

He grabbed the box. “I’m gonna get that box out of here,” Ivan stated. Neither of them showed any signs of surrender. “You gonna stand in my way or are you gonna finally take that warning?”

She inched closer. “You saw what I just did, right?” she asked him.

He scoffed. “You already ruined my day. He’s not gonna be pleased if he finds out I left you behind.”

“That only means you see me as a threat. Which you should. You saw what I can do. You sure this gun is gonna scare me away?”

“The gun won’t,” he said. “But this might.”

With the push of a button, the box flew open. Daredevil’s head cocked. He heard the steady ticking, a sound that slowly started to get rapid. “He’s got a bomb,” the words slipped him before Eliza could recognize them.

Instead of the serum, the box was rigged with wires. “It was nice meeting you,” Ivan said.

She opened her mouth. “What? No!” Matt abandoned all thoughts of being Daredevil. He wrapped his arms around her.

The blast shook the earth. The place where Ivan had once stood exploded in bright flames of smothering fire. The magnitude of the explosion knocked the glass out of the windows. Eliza cried out. Shards rained down on them. Daredevil had his body curled over hers, holding her as the fire broke free. All that was left was a pile of glass and fire.

The heat burned into their cheeks. Eliza opened her mouth, but she was too weak to form a coherent sound. She stared at the remains of the man that single-handedly ruined her perception of what she thought was possible in this world. He ruined the peace she had created for herself.

She stared at the feet of his ashes, the fire sizzling in her ear. “Hail Hydra!” the words haunted her. It wasn’t the warehouse that was on fire, it was her life that had crashed and burned. Everything fell apart, the glass a representation of what she’d believed hope for redemption. Eliza was burning. The girl she’d made a name for after all these years. She burned down with everything else. Without Eliza, she was nothing. The Red Angel didn’t have a name, only a bad reputation. Eliza had put an end to it, she had given her something to believe in – he took that from her. They always took, took, took, and took. Every time she thought she could move on, they came back and they haunted her until nothing was left but fire. Ashes and broken pieces of what had once been her life.

She turned to Matt. He had pushed her out of the way and shielded her from the blast. He rolled off of her. She touched his chest. He was still breathing, but he wasn’t moving. “Matt?” she asked. “Matt! Jesus Christ!” Her hand touched the blood on his side. There was so much coming out, she almost cried. “No, you’re okay. You’re okay! You were the one that got me out of this, you can’t die now. You can’t,” she sobbed. “I almost lost you once, I’m not doing that again. Come on! Wake up!” In a desperate attempt, she slapped him.

He gasped loudly. His arms waved around until they grabbed onto something familiar. Eliza took his hands. “Oh, thank fuck!” she said.

He groaned. “What happened?”

“There was a bomb. You saved my life.”

“You saved mine first,” he said. He almost passed out when he sat up. “We need to get out. The building is about to collapse.”

“You can barely stand,” she argued.

“I told you, we’re not gonna die here!”

She hung her head. “Okay.”

Eliza placed her hand over his wound gently. He sucked in a breath, but he kept steady. She danced her fingers around the broken flesh. She felt his agony, felt the moving of his flesh. She took it all and made it seem as if he’d never been hurt at all. For a second, he couldn’t breathe, but then he felt the tingling and the disappearance of pain. His hand fell over hers.

“Better?” she asked.

He exhaled. “Yes, thank you.”

“Yeah, no biggie.” She reached for the Devil’s mask on the floor, pulling it back over his head. “We need to go. Come on!”

Eliza wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They fell into a rhythm. As they stood in the doorway, a blast of fire hit them in the back. The blow sent them hurdling forward. She turned with a groan to see Matt pass out again. At least his head was protected. Just as he’d predicted, the building collapsed in front of them. The warehouse got swallowed by fire, everything falling into a pile of ashes in front of them.

Finally, Matt stirred next to her. His words were incoherent and he groaned more than he breathed, but she managed to get him on his feet.

“Come on,” she urged. Her destination was the black car that had pulled up earlier. The windows were blown out but other than that it seemed alright. She gently leaned him against the door, opened it for him, and pushed him into the seat. He groaned again.

“I’m sorry.” Eliza went around to sit in the driver’s seat. “Let me see if I can hot-wire this so I can get us outta here. We need to get you to a doctor or something-“

His hand reached for her arm. “No hospitals,” he said.

“Matt, I know you’re all serious about your secret identity but you’re dying! You did not only pull your stitches but you got impaled like a pig.”

“Claire.”

“What?”

“Her name’s in my phone. Call… call Claire.”

“Jesus, Matt! No-“

“Please.”

The motor started. She hesitated.

“Eliza, please. You’re the only one I can trust.”

“Fuck!” She banged her head against the steering wheel. “If you die on the way, don’t blame it on me.” She put the car in reverse.

Matt chuckled. “I won’t.” He slouched back in the seat.

She pulled up to the side of the curb. There was no time to park. She opened the door and pulled him out. “My place?” he asked. She dropped his injured body on the sofa.

“No,” she retorted, “this is the White House.”

He chuckled. “Your sarcasm is killing me.”

“The stab wound is killing you.”

He coughed again, a wave of blood following shortly behind. She saw his eyelids flutter. Her hands clawed at him, urging him to stay awake, but he was passed out for good. She placed a hand on his chest. The world was rustling around them. She searched for the faint sound of his heart.

“Don’t die,” she whispered. “I can’t lose you.”

Claire. She didn’t know who Claire was, but she was more than glad to hear the woman’s voice and her instant decision to drop everything. Without Claire, she would’ve lost him. She was sure she would’ve lost him. She felt it deep inside her bones, a fear she couldn’t shake.

If Matt died, she wouldn’t know what would become of her.

24 notes · View notes

highdramas · 4 years ago

Text

your song, vol. 1 | rockstar!bucky

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

rockstar!bucky barnes x fem!reader, some slight peter parker x reader in later parts (unrequited)

word count: 2429

warnings: references to sex, language, references to drug and alcohol use in later parts, age gap, slow burn-ish

summary: it’s not summer without you. or, that’s what your favorite rockstar always says. it’s all happening.

it is the summer of 1978, and everyone calls you rhiannon, and it has never occurred to you to mind.

really, it was sort of nice. rhiannon is a daredevil. rhiannon goes on tour with bands. rhiannon inspires songs and reads tarot and knows how to light up a room with a smile. rhiannon gets asked if she’s, like, the rhiannon. the rhiannon who rings like a bell through the night.

you’re not. but you’re not going to tell them that.

and, sure, you know that you’re capable of all of these things-- but it’s different when they’re calling you rhiannon.

it’s different when he is calling you rhiannon.

you’ve become somewhat of a myth in the california rock ‘n roll scene. groupies have flocked to you-- and you have somewhat rejected the term. found it degrading, the way that rock stars and fans spoke about groupies. it had been your personal mission during the summer of 1977 to change the way that men in rock spoke about women.

the summer that you met bucky barnes.

really, it wasn’t bucky that you had set your eyes on initially. initially, you’d shown up with his friend, steve rogers, the drummer. you and your group of band aids (you were still coining the name) had an in backstage and the second you had seen steve, you were a bit smitten. he wasn’t your typical rockstar. there was something kind about him, something genuine. he looked at you less like he wanted to fuck you and more like he wanted to know you.

it wasn’t until later that you met bucky. later, once you set out on tour with them.

when you found out that steve had a girl back home and he was simply being kind to you, it had reminded you of your mission. your mission to show all of these men what exactly women had to contribute to music and its existing scene-- and that it was more than being a side piece. more than being a fun distraction on the road.

that was the moment that you swore you would not fall in love with a rockstar.

the hotel you all had checked into was absolutely lavish. it was extravagant and beautiful, high ceilings and marbled floors and the shiniest doorknobs that you’ve ever seen. it’s 3:30 in the morning and the girls-- america and kate being your favorite of the whole bunch-- are out with the guys at the bar. you’re sure that they’re requesting brooklyn songs-- later on, you’d give bucky shit for suggesting that their band name should just be brooklyn. you give steve even more shit for going along with it.

after the revelation with steve, normally, you’d be in the mood to party. but you feel like shit and you fell asleep wrong on the bus and your neck is killing you. you don’t want to be a vibe killer, so you tell the girls to go on without you and maybe you’ll catch up with them later.

instead, at some point, you pad down to the pool. there is one lone figure sitting by an illuminated neon sign. it’s only when you’re within feet that you realize that it’s bucky.

of all of the members of brooklyn, you’d gotten to know bucky the least in the past week that you’ve been on the road with them. steve, sam, and natasha were all nice-- nicer than nice. steve and sam especially, but you knew why.

natasha is nice-- direct and passionate about what she does. and what she does is sing. you always said that brooklyn would be nothing if it wasn’t for nat’s husky vocals and insane songwriting.

then there’s bucky. the guitarist.

kate has been touring with brooklyn awhile now-- went with them on the europe leg. now she’s with their manager, clint, and she seems to know all the gossip. when you asked what was up with bucky-- why he was so quiet, why he didn’t like to party with the others, kate had given you that thousand watt smile and said-- “alright, don’t tell anyone about this, ‘specially buck, but he’s sober. couple years now, from what i hear. it’s real hard for him, being on the road.”

then, your mouth had made a slight o, you had nodded your head, and kate shone like the light she is before dashing off to find clint.

you’re brought back to that conversation now, seeing him hunched over on a reclining chair. you see that he is hugging his legs, smoking a cigarette. a bottle of root beer sits beside him on the ground.

your feet are working before your brain is, and before you know it, you’re standing before him. if he notices your presence, he doesn’t act like it.

“got one to spare?”

that’s when he finally glances up at you. his face is mostly unreadable-- furrowed brows and a set jaw, long brunette hair that almost brushes his shoulders. he is quite handsome. he’s the kind of man that you think is built for moments like these-- sitting by pools, pink neon radiating off his face. the kind of handsome that is a little bit intimidating. not like steve, who is all softness and warm smiles.

you sink onto the pool chair beside bucky as he nods. he passes you a cigarette and you pop it between your lips. bucky’s zippo seems to come out of nowhere, and you watch as the end begins to burn, and you take your first drag of your first cigarette.

a coughing fit ensues. naturally. you hold it awkwardly between the fingers of your right hand and you cover your mouth with your left, hacking up your lungs. bucky’s brows furrow and it’s then, and only then, when the faintest hint of a smirk drags onto his features. “you alright?” his hand moves to your back and rubs in circles, pats it lightly, until you’re bleary eyed and looking over at him with a loud laugh.

it was natural after that.

where bucky was, it was safe to assume that you weren’t far behind. but it wasn’t like that. if anyone asked who you were with, you wore a proud expression and said with little hesitation, “myself.”

each time, bucky glanced between you and whatever sorry schmuck was in your path, and he shrugged his shoulders. “you heard her.”

things were easy with bucky. you had laid the ground rules that night, on the pool chaise. you had straightened your shoulders and you said, “i made the vow not to fall in love with anyone this summer.”

bucky had raised an eyebrow at you and watched as you took his root beer and took a long pull, his eyes fixating onto yours. “funny, so did i.”

the summer of 1977 was a dream.

but you had to wake up.

when you’re not rhiannon, you’re… you. you’re a student at oxford university on a full ride scholarship, studying political science, eventually law. you want to be the first woman president. you have bigger dreams and aspirations than being a band aid.

but you don’t mind slipping into your dream state between the months of may and september. you don’t mind one bit.

on the last night of tour, in nashville, you and bucky had spent the whole night in his room. you talked and you laughed, you laid together and you talked about school and he talked about recording the next album. you said how you wished you could be there for it, and he said how he’d like to see oxford.

that’s another thing about dreams.

when you’re in them, you can nearly believe that they can exist in the real world. but they can’t.

you and bucky had toed a very thin line for a long time. and you tumbled off of it together that night.

when you said your goodbyes in the airport the next morning, everyone else around as well, it seemed to suck any of the intimacy out of the room. you told him then that you always hated airports-- they reminded you of goodbyes.

bucky had shrugged, and said, “they remind me of hellos.”

you hugged. he kissed the corner of your mouth, the closest thing to an outright public display of affection as you two would get. and you left. you went back to real life.

but now, it is 1978. and it is the summer before your senior year of college, and you are backstage at the bee gees at the forum. and brooklyn is opening.

of course you knew that you would see him. he had written you letters over the course of the past year, like a gentleman. you’d tucked them away in your hat box and wrote back about your studies and your roommates. and at the end of the last letter you sent, you wrote: hope you wrote that song about me. xx

you didn’t tell him you were going on the road this summer. you’d been in touch with kate and met up in beverly hills with her. she told you about how she and clint had moved in together in new york and you sipped coffee and went with her as she shopped at places that were far out of your budget. and then you’d met up with clint and he got you your pass.

and now you’re here, with a packed duffel.

it’s a wonder you haven’t run into him yet. there’s a part of you that hopes he doesn’t know-- that he’s going to come out here and see you and that the air is going to be knocked from him as he takes in the visage of you.

beginning to grow anxious, you throw yourself into a chair backstage in a huff. a boy who must be around your age is sitting on the arm of it, and looks down at you curiously. “you alright?”

“never better,” you say and inspect your nail. “you seen the band?”

“who, bee gees? nah, haven’t had a chance--”

“no. brooklyn.”

“oh.” he goes quiet and nods his head. “i got a chance to talk to ‘em just now. i’m trying to do a piece on them.”

your jaw slacks a bit and you nod your head. “oh.” a journalist. of course he is. “how exciting for you.”

“yeah, it’ll be my first real piece. i’ve written some stuff for my college paper, but nothing like this. i can’t believe i even got in. i met this girl gwen and she found me a pass.”

“gwen’s a real keeper,” you say and you wink. your words are honest. you like gwen. “what’s your name, kid?”

“peter parker.”

you stick your hand out. “nice to meet you, peter parker.”

he shakes it and he raises his eyebrows at you, as if waiting for an introduction on your end. “and you are…” he finally begins.

“that’s rhiannon.”

the voice jars you. you don’t dare look behind you, but you already know who it is. you feel large hands on your shoulders and it takes every ounce of pride and self worth inside of you not to let your body erupt into shivers. “she’s the heart of brooklyn.”

a scoff passes your lips and you tip your head back, and you’re not disappointed by what you see. you never are. “you’re always so dramatic,” you coo. your attention shifts back to peter, but your skin is buzzing where bucky touches you, and you have nearly ten months worth of time to catch up on with him. “it was nice meeting you, peter parker.”

subtlety is not your strong suit, and peter must gather that, because he scrambles to get his things and scurry off. you give a slight wave and make a mental note that you’d like to get to know him if he sticks around. “nice kid,” you say.

“don’t want to talk about him.”

you can’t help yourself now. a giddy squeal bursts from your lips and you turn and you fling yourself at him. you’re all arms and legs flailing, clutching to him, and he holds you just as tight. there’s that sort of husky, low laugh that leaves him, and you remember it from that night that you wanted to impress him by smoking a cigarette. “hey, rhi.”

“hi,” your voice is muffled in his neck. you don’t care who’s watching, you don’t care what they whisper— for the first time, you don’t care if they assume you’re going to go back to bucky’s room and fuck him stupid. you care that he’s here. that’s bigger than your pride.

“didn’t tell me you’d be comin’. had to hear from kate.”

“yeah, well...” you pull back and look up at him, hands resting on his shoulders. his find your hips and pull you in. “i wanted to surprise you. am i a happy surprise?”

bucky is the kind of person who thinks before he speaks, but also, you believe that he thinks before he emotes. there’s a beat before he’s licking his lips, nodding his head. “nah. it’s gonna be such a drag having my girl on the road with me.”

my girl.

you squint at him and push him away right in his chest, and he gapes, rubbing it and feigning hurt. “don’t pull that,” you point at him. “same rules as last summer, alright? we— we went over this.”

exasperated, bucky sighs, head lolling to the side. “yes ma’am.”

ten months ago bucky told you he was in love with you.

ten months ago bucky told you he’d follow you all over the world.

ten months ago you agreed that it was a horrible idea, and that your friendship was too vital, too real, too special to risk messing it up.

ten months later, you’re hoping you won’t regret this decision.

you can see the disappointment in his face. gently, you touch the side of his face and you smile a bit. “in another life.” those were the words you had said to him, all those nights ago.

bucky’s face breaks your heart over and over again. he gives you that gentle but sad look-- the look of a man who has what he wants right within arms reach, but knows that he cannot fully grasp. knows that he cannot fully keep.

“i’ll have you any way you want me,” is all he finally says. “‘s not summer without you.”

you’d made a promise to him that night. you had told him you weren’t going to fall in love with anyone in the summer of 1977.

but it is the summer of 1978. and this is the story of how you fall in love with bucky barnes.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #rockstar bucky #your song #my writing #not me posting this at 11pm sorry yall

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fanmoose12 · 5 years ago

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Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 1.

“You two make a good team.” “Thank you. His last partner cast a long shadow.”

Daredevil, vol. 4

Petra had been a police technician for long five years. She didn’t hate her job per se, and helping other people was always one of the biggest passions in her life, but… She always strived for something better, something bigger.

However, she hadn’t been promoted for so long that she had lost all hope of rising up in ranks. So when, one day, Captain Erwin called her into his office, she'd feared that he decided to transfer her to another division, or, maybe, he noticed some kind of inconsistencies in one of her reports. Her legs were wobbly, while she was walking through the station’s corridors. And as she opened the door to the Captain's office, her hands were shaking and sweaty.

But as it turned out, there was nothing to be worried about. She wasn't transferred, there was no mistakes in her reports. No, instead, she was promoted. To a detective. And her new partner was none other than detective Levi Ackerman himself.

Even outside of their department, Detective Ackerman was a living legend. In the ten years he had served in the homicide department, he and his partner Hange Zoe solved every single case appointed to them. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, their unusual investigation tactics bewildered and sometimes shocked civilians, but nevertheless, they were a pride of their department. And there was no one, who was more proud of them than their superior officer, Captain Erwin. Those three trusted each other unconditionally, and were not only close colleagues, but dear friends as well.

Although, all of it had come to an abrupt end two years ago, when Hange Zoe mysteriously disappeared during one of the cases. It was quite unclear, if she had really died, her body was never recovered, and both Levi and Erwin refused to give a statement, regarding that accident. The only thing general public knew that detectives Zoe and Ackerman ventured on a mission to capture a dangerous criminal, Zeke Yeager, but only Levi walked out of that building alive.

And ever since that accident, detective Ackerman became secluded and aloof. His success rate dropped significantly and he refused to accept another partner.

Petra became a policeman, when detectives Zoe and Ackerman were in their prime and the talk of the whole city. Petra saw them a lot, as they hurried in and out of the station. They were a weird pair, and if she didn't know better, wasn't aware of just how successful their partnership was, she would never guess that those two genuinely liked each other. They were so different - Hange's lips were seemingly permanently curled into an excited smile, while Levi's face was always set in scowling expression. They constantly teased and made fun of each other, but there was always an undeniable affection in their words, no matter how biting they were, and in their eyes, as they gazed at each other. And the fact that Levi was taking her death so hard, only further proved that those two were extremely close comrades.

And, of course, from the first time she had laid her eyes on detective Ackerman, Petra couldn’t help, but admire him. He was sharp, collected, hard-working and righteous. He embodied everything a good policeman should be.

And now, she was going to be his partner. Petra couldn't wait to start their new case! As she walked away from Captain Erwin’s office, she kept imagining what her first day of working with legendary Levi Ackerman would be like.

"Good day, I'm detective Petra Ral and this is my partner Levi Ackerman."

Gosh! Just the thought of it made her feel dizzy.

She was so happy! She was ready to do everything to prove herself to Levi. To be an even better partner to him than his previous one.

***

The next day, as soon as Petra woke up, she could barely conceive her excitement. She came to work earlier than usual, and she couldn't keep a smile off her face, as she gathered all of her belongings into a box, so she could bring them to her new workplace. She would be sharing an office with detective Ackerman himself! She didn't dare to even dream about that, but now it was actually happening! Truly, she was the luckiest person in the world.

"What got you in such a good mood?" Oluo, her past co-worker asked. "Have they finally fired you?"

"I'm being promoted, dummy," she couldn't resist the smug grin that appeared on her face. "So show some respect. You're talking to a Detective Petra Ral."

"Detective?" Oluo whistled, sitting back in his chair. "And who is that miserable fool who will become your partner?"

"I don't think you've heard of him," Petra put hands on her hips, looking down at Oluo, a sense of pride nearly overwhelming her. "Does the name Levi Ackerman say something to you?"

"No way," Oluo's eyes widened almost comically. "You're fucking with me."

"I'm not."

"Holy shit, you're detective Ackerman's partner? He refused one for years!"

Petra shrugged, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Maybe, he saw something special in me."

"Or, maybe, Captain Erwin pressured him into this."

Petra huffed. "You're just jealous because you'll be stuck here, doing patrol work till your pension."

"Oh, shut up and leave already," Oluo turned to his computer. "I was getting sick of seeing your face anyway."

Petra's gaze lingered on Oluo's back for a moment. Maybe, she was too harsh with him? True, he was oftentimes lazy and enjoyed slacking off, dumping all of his work on Petra, but he was a good man. An honest one, Petra respected him. She liked him, too, even though sometimes that arrogant smirk of his drove her absolutely mad.

Well, she could always apologize to him later. Knowing Oluo, he probably didn't even care about her words. Certainly a cup of coffee would make him forget about any offence.

Besides, she had to forget about him for the time being. Today was important day. She couldn't let herself lose her focus.

***

When Petra came to her new office, Levi was already there.

"G-good morning!" she squealed. "I'm your new partner, Petra—"

"I know," Levi harshly cut her off. "I'm sure you know my name as well, so let's skip the pleasantries. Just put your shit somewhere and get to work."

"Oh... alright."

Trying to hide her disappointment, Petra looked around the office. There were four desks there. She decided to take the one that was across from Levi's.

"No!" instantly, Levi covered the desk with his hands. He looked up, glaring at Petra so fiercely, as though she had done some horrible dead. His voice was quiet and yet so cold, it made shivers run down Petra's spine. "That desk is already taken."

Petra gave it a second look. Now that she stood so close to it, she could see that the table was covered in stacks of papers and empty coffee cups. However, despite its messiness, the desk was pristinely clean.

Petra checked the date on the report that was lying on the top. The report was written almost two years ago. By detective Hange Zoe.

Oh.

So Levi didn't really move on, did he?

"Can I sit here?" Petra pointed to the desk near the window.

Levi looked at her for barely a second.

"That desk is empty," he said, returning to his work.

An uneasy silence fell over the room. At least, it was uneasy for Petra. Levi didn't seem to care in the slightest.

"So..." she tentatively began after a few of excruciatingly long minutes. “What is our first case?"

"Oh, yes," Levi threw a case file on her desk. "A middle-aged man was killed this morning. A rich snob, he was most definitely killed by his wife, because he refused to share his money. I've already run through the possible theory with forensics, all you need to do is to question his wife to see if my theory is legit or not. I'm sure it is, though."

"Ah... okay."

So there won't be any teamwork, huh? Maybe, it was for the best. Levi's attitude left much to be desired.

Still, Petra wasn't going to give up so easily.

So when she returned from detention center, where the wife of the deceased was held (she did kill her husband, Levi was right), Petra brought him a cup of tea.

"I didn't know how you take it," she said sheepishly, putting the cup in front of him. "Tell me what you think."

Levi looked up at her, regarding her carefully. His eyes were sharp, but that was about everything Petra could say about them. They were a beautiful shade of grey, but she could see nothing in them, but boredom and indifference.

Their eye contact didn't last for a second too long. Levi turned to the cup on his desk. He lifted it slowly, staring at the swirling liquid inside. Glancing back at Petra again, be put it to his lips and took a sip.

"It's very good," he said after a moment. "Exactly how I like it."

Petra's heart swelled. Her lips almost curled into a happy smile. But then Levi threw the contents of the cup into the trash can.

"Her tea always tasted like shit," he muttered under his nose, but loud enough for Petra to hear.

She could feel tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

"I appreciate the effort," his voice didn't sound like he truly did. "But don't bring me tea, or some other kind of food, ever again. You shouldn't waste your time with such useless shit."

And then he turned back to his computer, not sparing another glance in her direction.

Petra felt like the biggest idiot, like a naive little girl, who was scolded by her teacher.

Why did she even bother?

***

"Petra, right?" Levi asked after a while.

"Yeah?"

"You can go home earlier, Petra."

"But I didn't finish my report—"

"I'll do it for you. Go and rest."

Petra narrowed her eyes. It sounded like Levi was trying to make her leave.

"Were you working on the case the whole day?"

Levi had been glued to his computer screen ever since Petra came. He didn't even go on a break.

"...Yes, of course. What else would I be working on?"

He hesitated, for less than a second, but he did. Why? What was he doing? What was so important to her new partner? Oh, how Petra wanted to know! But she knew she couldn't, there was no way that Levi would be willing to tell her about it.

However, she could always find out in some other way.

Not today, though.

"Alright, thank you," she smiled sweetly. That smile always made everyone smile back. However, it seemed to have no effect on Levi. "I'll be going then. Have a nice evening."

"Sure," Levi answered absentmindedly, his attention already back on his screen.

Before walking out of the office, Petra gave him another critical look.

She'd be damned, but she'll find out his secret. She'll prove to him just how good she was as a detective.

Not worse than his dead partner.

#so i finally did it!!!!!!#i've had this idea for a while #and believe it or not!!!! i've been thinking ab before ch 132 djkgslgkjslkgj #but yeah levi is going to be sad in this fic #but!!!!!!!! not for long i promise #someone will come back to cheer him up!!!!!#sooooo tell me what you think about it i guess????#i know that this thing is weird lmao #and yeah i've got this idea while reading daredevil #don't judge pls #levihan #levi ackerman #levi x hange #levihan fanfiction #petra ral #snk fanfiction #snk fic

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thedancefloorsilly · 4 years ago

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Ngl seeing your 300 followers event intrigued me (loved the spin on what’s usually just a describe yourself and I’ll give you a matchup thing) enough so that I’ve binged through most of what you’ve written on here!! It’s actually been awhile since I sent in a request for one of these 😬

So!! I’m female, going by she/they and bi (male leaning). My romantic f/o are illumi + hisoka. Illumi - unexpectedly usually out of my type, but he buried himself in the ground in the first scene we saw him in and I was gone. Since then I’ve had people point out that he looks like a frog and that its a very major subconscious reason I love him so much. Hisoka, I very much resisted liking at first because hes,,,, hisoka, but this bastard made a place in my heart the more his main character syndrome made him helpful and not a total villain. I had no choice but to begrudgingly love him, and he makes me laugh as often as he makes me turn to look to the figurative camera.

When it comes to me, I’m 5’2, black hair + eyes, Asian, and must admit I do have a bit of a god complex as a Pisces (which my own need to compete w others then compromises). I definitely consider myself fashion forward (but favors black a lot) and I love to find shoes to give me some more height. I have a taekwondo black belt and do MMA, and I love to crochet even though I tend to rage at my yarn when new patterns for clothes make me repeat rows over and over again. I’m the only one in my friend group that knows how to do taxes, but STILL did not understand knuckle’s loan and interest nen AT ALL. I adore collecting marvel and dc comics, as well as manga, and my guilty pleasure is the pink drink from Starbucks (guilty because Istg im not a 13 year old, I just need to stop consuming caffeine and the vanilla sweet cold foam with it is addicting). Someday I dream to have three cats, and I have a drivers license even though I legitimately have never driven or taken any drivers Ed classes in my life. Ever. I have no idea how to drive. My procurement of a drivers license regardless may or may not have been through legal means.

Ooh well that’s nice to hear glad u liked this idea!! I hope I liked my writing😳😳 I don’t write for Hisoka but for this event I will :P I also did these as separate. enjoy anon!!

Hisoka

- The fact that you know how to fight, being that you do MMA, DEFINITELY intrigued Hisoka when he first met you. He did his whole evaluation thing in his mind about how well your powers fair, and honestly this was probably what prompted Hisoka to learn more about you. Once getting to know you more, there was something different he would feel rather than the usual “excitement” when around a strong fighter. It was a certain feeling in his stomach he would get that would linger on.

- Even though Hisoka might have been a little confused at first, he was curious to try and explore these unknown feelings more, thus leading him to spend more time and to try and observe your personality. The more and more he spent time with you, the more his interest in how you fought began to slip away from his mind. Not only that, but Hisoka also always felt his heart racing when he was around you. Was this eccentric clown magician man developing a crush? Oh, absolutely he was.

- Well, as the time came where he would smoothly confess his feelings, Hisoka really did try to make everything special. Hisoka actually bought red roses for you, dressed VERY nice, brought you to somewhere calm and romantic, and used his charm to try and win you over. Well, at the end of the night, you guys both learned that you and him had mutual feelings for one another, and it was pretty clear that a second date was to be expected.

- Sometimes you can’t help but to laugh at Hisoka’s outlandish behavior. Of course, he takes notice of this, and with that, Hisoka tries his best to always put on a show when you’re around!! He always does things to try and hear that laugh of your’s that he loves so much. Not only that, but Hisoka also does things to rather amuse you. Hisoka will sometimes do random tricks with his nen to try and put up his “magician” act, just to see that entertained look on your face.

- Whenever he’s fighting at Heaven’s Arena, he always tries to impress you, too!! Once facing an opponent, Hisoka will try out these new moves or special techniques that will surely put a ‘wow’ on your face. Yes, his tricks might be a little stupid or dangerous, but that’s all part of the fun isn’t it? Not only that, but when he’s mid-fight, Hisoka will also try and do stupid things like wink or smirk at you justtt to see you blush and roll your eyes playfully.

Illumi

- Mentioning that you have no experiencing with driving to Illumi, he insists that he could just drive you to some places himself. You calmly agree to this at first, but since you weren’t aware of the fact that your boyfriend also has very little driving experience, you have NO idea what you’re about to get into. His driving is a little... reckless to say the least. You really thought you were getting a calm drive to Starbucks?? Well, expect your incautious, daredevil of a boyfriend to be passing every red light, almost hitting pedestrians, and speeding exceedingly just to get to your destination. You guys are just better off with Illumi’s butlers driving you guys...

- Sometimes you like to crochet random things for Illumi (It could be something like a hat or some gloves). Whenever you’re making them, Illumi often hears the little complaints you make from frustration from your room, so he goes to check on you and to see what’s wrong. Immediately though, you tell Illumi to not come in your room because you’re making something to surprise him. Even though he’s wondering what you might be doing, Illumi just goes on and doesn't question you further.

- One day, as you finally finish your creation, you announce to Illumi that you’ve made something for him. As Illumi tilts his head in confusion, you then proudly reveal a crotched frog hat from behind your back, all for him!! At first he wonders what prompted you to make something so specific for him, and all you say to Illumi was that he reminded you of a frog!! You might not know what he truly feels from his blank reaction, but deep down, Illumi really appreciates the gift!!

- Now, Illumi definitely doesn’t see himself having not one.. but three cat’s in his future (since you’ve told him all about your dream). It’s not that Illumi opposes of the idea of them, or thinks that they’re a lot of work (especially since you’ve seen his GIANT pets..), it’s just that he’s just never really thought about it before. There are days when Illumi does consider owning them, or how it would be like to own them, but then again, Illumi never acts on getting the cat’s.

- That wasn’t until one day though. It was a rainy afternoon, and Illumi was walking through the town, ready to come home from one of his assassin missions. As he was strolling down the empty streets, he heard a faint sound of an animal come from the left of him. Illumi turned to his left, but looked down to see that the noise came from a beaten up box in an alleyway. He walked toward this box, noticing that the animal sounds were actually the small ‘mews’ of a cat. As Illumi squatted down to see observe this box, he then saw the sight of MULTIPLE small kittens!!

- While you’re waiting for Illumi to come home, you hear the knocking of someone on the door, and you immediate assume that it’s from your boyfriend!! As you happily rush to unlock the door, you then see a drenched Illumi, holding a box of kittens as they’re meowing non-stop. Though, you might be confused, Illumi blankly says, “Look. I brought you something.” From the nonstop meowing, you question to how many cats are there... Even though you dreamed about having three, well.. can you handle about six?

#300 followers event #aha this was fun

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carrottuan93 · 4 years ago

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Haven’t met you yet| Mark

Masterlist (4/4)

Starring: MK x You

Tags: Mark Tuan, Fluff, Destiny, Waiting, Christmas, Bookworm, Nerd, Love, Fate

Total WC: 3075

An hour left before Christmas, Mark told you that he doesn’t believe in Santa Claus. He said he’d rather believe on the existence of aliens because he watched too much American movies about the extraterrestrial life. That sounded cool for you that you both share the same interest for the unknown life out there, but you don’t want to discredit Santa for giving you Mark to spend the Christmas eve with. He did not only hit the roof of your standards, but he exceeded them. He never cease to met all the bars for your ideal type and he’s never failed you so far with his vast array of knowledge of all the topics you guys are talking about in the past 2 hours. Guys for you are sexy if they can carry a proper conversation.

“I swear to God if an alien comes out of nowhere, I’d let him take me and I’ll fly with him in a heartbeat.” You’re a whole lot better now that you’re sharing a lot of jokes and making fun of each other. Setting aside the world and the rest of the others. Just you, him and the wine under the starry sky.

“Jesus, out of all the people in our planet, you chose to elope with someone from the outside world. In my case, I’d let them take me as long as they will show me how spaceships work so I could finally meet my childhood dream of becoming a space police, riding those cool ships and chasing bad aliens.” Your topic reached the outer space already but you’re now laying on the floor beside Mark, as you watch the open glass roof ceiling of the observatory with eyes wide awake.

“What’s wrong with dating an alien? At least, I get to experience travelling to different galaxies and planets. So much for the trouble of chasing bad aliens for a living.” You snickered, earning his grumpy voice.

“If you’re going to date alien, at least choose someone handsome.” He replied, placing both of his arms underneath his head.

“I haven’t seen any handsome alien yet, I mean all the creatures that they show on tv are the ones with the big bald heads, oval shaped eyes, and lanky thin frames. I don’t think they’d fit the definition of handsome.” This is your first time watching under the stars on top of the freaking Namsan Tower observatory and you’re delighted to experience it on a Christmas day with Mark.

“I am just right here beside you. I’m handsome since I was born, that’s already a given, I know. So just save yourself from the trouble of finding the alien guy of your dreams because Mark has come to save the unbothered princess from distress.” You don’t know if he’s still sober enough at this hour but you can tell that you aren’t drunk enough to be hearing this from him.

“Handsome guy perks, a ticket to finding instant dates. Why do you even want to date me?” You turned to your side, facing him. You're curious and you want to get straight to the point.

“Now that we’ve got to the topic of impressions, I think you’re quite interesting. That maybe you could make my Christmas eve a little less lonely, perhaps. Scratch that, maybe you could fit on all types of holidays and occasions. Maybe you’re a girl matched for all the seasons.” You felt giddy now that you’re facing each other, side to side, but still, you need to calm your high hopes for this guy.

“If this is a date, I’m ditching you already.” You glanced at him quickly and was rewarded by his cute eye smile. Oh cupid, this is not fair play for showing up earlier than your scheduled season in February.

“Why not? Am I not appealing to you? Come on. Try me." You watch his eyes examine your face, those hazelnut orbs are beautiful, and you want to train your eyes and treat them as their home. You never experienced staring at any guy for the longest time until tonight and all you can hear is the sound of him breathing, reciprocating your own rhythm. You aren’t aware that silence is actually too deafening when it’s the heart that does the talking. Those tall buildings appear smaller from a distant and they're glistening different hues and wavelength of bright lights, which are now witnesses to you finding love in the most unexpected way. But you don’t have the concrete definition of love because you haven’t felt it before. You just know and you can feel the unfamiliar zip of current travelling on your bloodstream. It’s just the two of you, and you’re under the supervision of the constellations in the open sky above, and it’s magical that you feel like these were the exact same stars that the first lovers saw on earth. How come it's too peaceful up there when you lay next to him? It’s a perfect moment for your exhausted soul to recover from your endless pursuits and maybe this is your fate taking its move. You are no daredevil to begin with and chasing ecstasy aren’t your cup of tea because you’re always craving for assurances in all the right places. But Mark is your risk and guarantee, all at once.

It is really tiring to find something when you don’t even know what you’re searching for in the first place. One thing is for sure, you haven't met anyone so random and fascinating like him. He's unique, overflowing with charms and maybe a box full of surprises for you to discover. Deep down, you've been wanting to get to know him more and you're aware that you're crossing oceans knowing that you’ll meet him on the other end. It is very unlike you to just casually lower your guard down for someone upon your first meeting but when it comes to Mark, everything seems to magically untangle in all the right places.

“Because I’m beginning to think that I misplaced my heart somewhere when it is still right here, intact on my rib cage. It’s just that my heart feels foreign to me now that you’re slowly owning up most of the empty spaces in my atrium.” He smiled like a panacea of all earthly ills and his smile could heal the world.

“I am no poet, but Paulo Cuelho once said ‘if it’s still in your mind, it is worth taking the risk’. I could see the thrill of chase, the first time I laid my eyes on you last night and you never left my mind ever since I got to talked to you tonight. Actually, I’ve met you already a long time ago. So you need to catch up with me and we all have the days on our feet to go on a lot of spontaneous pursuits, and you’ll make up for the lost time that you’re supposed to have known me already.” He’s too good with words and you’re drowning and drowning and you never wanna be saved. You’ve encountered almost all kinds of contracts on your work already and you always make sure to read the terms and agreements regardless of the number of pages but when it comes to Mark, you’d gladly sign the papers right away even with your eyes closed. But something doesn’t feel right with what he is saying.

"First of all, I haven’t met you yet not until this evening.” Maybe it’s the wine that’s getting you drunk, hearing things and such.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I tell you that you’re the reason why I traded my Christmas in the US for a night here with you in Seoul for a blind date. I might sound stupid, but you should thank Jackson for all the credits. He introduced you to me a year ago and I stopped attending parties ever since my cousin did all the marketing strategy and such. It’s crazy right? For all I care, I’m tired of all things temporary so I trust my cousin when he said that you’ll give the permanence that I’m searching for. I don’t really know, I’m a random guy and I told my mom I’m hopping on a 14 hour flight to Seoul on Christmas eve to meet this girl so I went here for risk’s sake. And my luck has never failed me when you come to my place last night, barging in like some kind of an annoyed girlfriend coming home from a party. Damn, you nearly broke my unit’s lock system. You can claim your stuff at my place later when we go home, and you owe me a ‘Thank you’ because I saved you from carelessly sleeping into someone else’s bed. I respected your drunken state and I slept on the floor, so you have nothing to worry about. I’m just surprised that you disappeared in the morning all of a sudden without even saying anything.” You sat on your place, unable to process everything that he just said. You realized you’re so done, the heavens above could just open up and take you already because there isn’t any influence of wine taking over your completely sober minds. Everything is real and happening and you’re overwhelmed, and you don’t know what to do anymore.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT???!” You screamed to your shock, running all over the place like you killed somebody and you badly want to escape the room due to your embarrassment.

“Wow, you even curse louder than I’ve imagined. It’s alright, Y/n. I’m fully aware that you love the scent of fabric conditioner because you can’t get enough of me last night. I can’t blame my parents for giving birth to myself. I left your stuff in my room, but I know I got something that you badly need right now.” He fished out your planner from the pocket of his coat, waving it like some kind of a show money in the air and you’d do what it takes to retrieve it back to your possession.

“Relax, I didn’t mean to interfere with your personal schedule, but I just saw a picture of pink roses at the back of your planner.” He gave you the planner and you hugged it like your world depended on it. He clapped his hands in the air and a guy came out of nowhere, carrying a bouquet of full-grown pink roses. It’s your first time receiving your favorite flowers from a guy and you feel like you don’t deserve Mark because he’s too good for you. Your eyes are now brimming in tears, knowing that God already gave the sign that you’re looking for. He’s standing right beside you and all you need to do is to take a leap, because it’ll be all or nothing.

“Jackson, you’re so dead to me. He sold me even without my permission and now that you’re right here, I’m suing you as well because of the amount of emotional damaged you have caused to my system. Now I’ll never be the same again because you gave me an ocean when I’m only asking for some rain.” You’re crying because of happiness. He dried your tears and he hugged you, so tight, you never wanna let go of him anymore. He smells of fabric conditioner and you’re never going to shut up about it.

"If only you can see yourself from my own perspective, you'd want to date yourself too. You sound scary whenever you want to sue someone because of something. First, it's my cousin Jackson and now you're suing me as well. That makes you interesting. A tough nut to crack. You're a challenge and I'm always up for the stakes of it. I'm not a perfect guy but we can save all the paralegal proceedings with just settling everything in our own terms, alright? I'm a man of my own words. I might be a pro player, but only in games for your reference, because I don't play with hearts, I win them. You just need to chill and worry about not falling too hard for me. Because I'm pretty sure, I'd beat you up to it." The man's got a way with his words. He's the definition of smooth and speed at the same time. But he's more than that. You like smart guys, you're attracted to their brains and you'll be placing all of your poker cards on the table for this sweet bounty.

"I'm not sure if our personalities coincide or if our interests are compatible but I'm hoping that whatever it is, this mutual attraction tonight isn't just a one-time thing. Just so you know, Eunhee has given me enough stress with all the troublesome blind dates I've been to lately. All I’m asking is for you to be sincere and honest because once I let you in my life, you'll never be allowed to leave anymore." You glanced down on your fingertips, too afraid to enter a commitment, you feel like you're having a mini heart attack. You swear that Mark could really hear your heart pounding louder than ever.

"Fate is really unpredictable. If you will ask, I'd rather believe in the existence of aliens more than Santa but what if he's really residing in the North Pole and he gave you to me as my Christmas present? I’m not going to run away because the chase is finally over. All you need to do is surrender yourself to me. No more buts, and what ifs. Only if you'll gonna agree to date me, my Dad will be really proud of raising a gambler just like him.” You could only wish for time to stop right there on your spot. You couldn’t ask for more, you began to doubt yourself if you really deserve all the good things that has come to your life. You wouldn’t want to wake up from this fantasy, but your eyes aren’t going to lie, there is love all over the place and you can see that it is real and happening this time.

"I don't know much about you, but I would love for you to to bring me into another spontaneous trip of yours cause I'm absolutely up for more of your surprises." All you can ever hear is the sound of a loud bang with all the fireworks lightning up the sky in iridescent hues as you froze right on your spot, eyes wide open, when you felt his lips on yours in one swift chaste kiss. He's too gentle, you can feel his breath becoming one with yours. He pulled away and you both greeted each other a 'Merry Christmas' as a couple. That was your first kiss taken from you and it tasted sweeter than wine.

“I want to let you know that I’m actually your secret Santa. I may have come to the party without bringing my gift, but I made sure to tag you here along with me so you could appreciate my gift in person. It's me, I'm the gift itself and I'm already yours, Y/n." Did he just show you an aegyo? Gosh, you almost melted with how cute he is. Mark must have been blessed with all the charms in the world. He showed you a piece of paper with your name written on it. You don’t believe in destiny until you brought out your own paper and saw his name written on it.

“I didn't know if Eunhee and Jackson has something to do with this but I’m your Secret Santa too. If this isn't destiny, then I don't know what is. But you can have my heart for Christmas, and I hope you'd take care of it from now on.” You showed him his name written on the paper and everything became irrelevant all of a sudden. As if floating on a zero-gravity dimension, you felt like a lifeless feather on thin air but your heart is betraying you by falling too deep for this guy. He's a one chance in a lifetime, an answered prayer from your last lifetime and your sweet serendipity.

"Now that everything went the way I wanted it to be, I'm up for another trip this New Year's eve, on your birthday." Just when you thought you've been blessed with so much this year, there are actually a lot more surprises to come.

"Jackson has told you a looot about me, even my birthday, and I'm not going to be surprised about that. Anyways, what about the trip?". He reached for your hand and you felt delicate in his grasp. Too weak and too fragile but your heart is full and that's the only thing that matters.

"My father is the CEO of TUAN RESIDENTIAL, a US based real estate developer which also means we are your firm's newest client. I know this is the craziest coincidence on top of everything, but I just discovered it this morning when I saw your planner and read the details about the meetings you've attended in the past week. I find out that you're actually part of the accounting firm that we hired. With that, I want to formally introduce their Vice President, Mark Tuan. We're acquiring a domestic corporation here in Seoul so we could expand our own line of business here in Korea. Trust me, this looks like a prank but I guess fate will really find a way for us to cross paths together no matter what. But we aren't talking about work here. Instead, are you ready for another surprise? I'm taking you with me in the US ahead of New Year’s Eve so you could meet my father and discuss a little about the liquidation proceedings. And of course, my mom would love to meet the reason why her son traveled to the other side of the world. She'll be glad that his eldest son will finally bring a girl in the house. So be prepared, Y/n, because we're leaving in the next 24 hours.”

and all this time you thought 'why are people too patient when they are waiting?' Simply because you wouldn't want to come under prepared if love suddenly comes along your way when you least expect it.

“WHAT THE HELL! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, MARK??????”

“Cool. I like girls who cuss a lot.”

#got7 #mark #mark tuan #got7 fluff #got7 fanfic #got7 imagines #got7mark #ahgase #got7 jackson #jackson #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #boyfriend #Christmas

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austennerdita2533 · 4 years ago

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Hey! Hope all is well!! First of all, thank you for all the links to save money on books. I checked them out and plan to use some with buying books!! And don’t worry I have other self-restraint issues-mine come more from the fact that I get bored easily so I have about 4-5 books going at the same time. That way I can switch up genres when I need it (for instance I always have a fantasy, a romance, and a dark romance all available to me at the same time because those are my favorites) but sometimes more than one of the genres too. I also am terrible at following a tbr for instance I have been wanting to read Ugly Love for months now but then as I get closer to finishing a book a different book grabs my attention and must be read asap. But to prevent money spending I just browse through kindle and download a free sample of books I want to try instead of buying them right away. Plus I have a rule with myself that I have to read the first 10% of the book that the free sample gives me before I buy anything because at that point I can tell if I like the writing style, the potential story, etc. Just because I don’t want to buy a book and not finish it so I don’t want to waste my money and time. It has worked well so far! I mean there really has only been one book (well series) that I did not buy because I could not even get through a chapter (unfortunately that was the from blood and ash series which I know is a big hit but personally the writing style just was not for me)but it still saved me money!!

I heard about the Book of Night by Holly Black I am really looking forward to it!! I have other friends who adore Jurdan so we are all pumped to see her take on an adult romance and the summary sounded really cool!!

I will have to check out Anxious People for sure!!

But anyway I finally finished The Atlas Six!! Honestly I would have finished it sooner but I got into a romance mood so I went and read both Birthday Girl, Punk 57, and Credence by Penelope Douglas. Definitely recommend Birthday Girl if you like age gap relationships-it is a big one though so if those are not for you I do not recommend it. Punk 57 was okay, I was expecting a little more out of it than I got and I only read it since they were pen pals and I love letter writing but there was not a whole lot of that. And Credence well Credence is what it is LOL it is SUPER taboo and not for everyone and I feel slightly ashamed to say I enjoyed it, but I do not know you well enough on a personal basis to say read it or not read it because well it is wild and it is really a book that I think you love or you epically hate and think people are insane for liking. So look up at your own risk.

But did you end up finishing atlas six?? I do not want to talk about it unless you finished it!! What were your thoughts on the characters/plot/ships?? I am super excited about the future of it!! Olivie confirmed it will be a trilogy recently. I think the next book comes out next year. I also want to start some of her other books like Alone With You in the Ether. I just really enjoyed her writing style and the way she develops characters.

Can’t wait to talk about it with you once you get through it!!

-ACOTAR anon

Hello, hello! I'm embarrassed it's taken me so long to get back to you, I apologize! I haven't had access to WiFi the last week and a half so I haven't been on here much. I went away with two of my closest girlfriends and we were busy laughing, chatting, and goofing the time away--pretty standard with us, tbh. We're a bunch of Chatty Kathy's whenever we're around each other. 😄

But yayyy! I'm so happy you might be able to use some of those money saving book sites. They've been a godsend for me, truly. I mean, I still spend double what I ought on books but at least I can rationalize it because I know I'm saving some money lol. That's smart of you to have established that rule where you read 10% of the sample first before you buy the book. I might have to try that. I hate when I buy a book only to find myself disappointed because I don't enjoy the writing style or the story. I do usually read excerpts, but they're not always long enough for me to tell if I might like something or not.

I'm sorry you didn't care for the From Blood and Ash series. That seems to be hit or miss for a lot people. I believe I have the first two books on my Kindle (which I scored cheaply from Kindle Daily Deals lol) so I will get into it at some point. I'm curious which way I will land.

I don't know how people only read one book at a time. (No hate, just amazed lol.) Like you, I usually have at least 2, sometimes 3 or 4, books in rotation because I want to slip into different genres depending on my mood. And also depending on the time of day. Sometimes I prefer to read fantasies or thrillers during the day because they're exciting. I don't want to stop reading. Now, romances and non-fiction I will read at night, before bed. They're good genres to lull me to sleep with their facts and/or fluffiness.

I'm gonna have to check out Penelope Douglas. I'm not that familiar with her writing, but I'm always looking for new romance authors. You seemed so shy/embarrassed about liking Credence that I HAD to go and look up the summary lolol. You can't say "taboo" and then have me not investigate. My interest is piqued! The polyamory angle sounds fun. I've only read it in fic for the most part so this one's going on the tbr. As is Birthday Girl with the age gap. They both sound deliciously promising!

Something to know about me when it comes to books, to reading: I'm a daredevil. There's literally nothing I won't try at least once. There are times I balk AT MYSELF for the things I pick up knowingly, willingly, but I never regret it. Not even when I read something disturbing enough to give me nightmares. Which has definitely happened. 😂

And yes, I have finished The Atlas Six. I tore through that book so fast! I kept sneaking reading it when I was supposed to be doing other things. I loved that it was a character-driven fantasy because those are my favorite. And the magical system is so cool! It's such a creative blend of science and magic--like, the way she embedded particle physics and the multiverse into everything set my nerd flag flying like you wouldn't believe haha. The characters all have that morally gray Six of Crows vibe to them, too. They're enigmatic. Hard to pin down. They're all thrown together out of necessity not because they like each other, and it was fun to see how attachments did or did not form. I liked Callum the least. However, he's also one of the characters who intrigues me the most because I have no idea wtf he wants. There's no way to parse what his endgame is right now besides self-preservation. Nico is a conceited wise ass, so naturally I love him. Parisa and Reina both terrify me for different reasons. Parisa screams I AM A SIREN so I don't want to tread too close to her. Reina, I think, is going to just, like, detonate the whole planet at some point. She has so much untapped power. Tristan grew on me the most. I didn't care for him much in the beginning because he was an asshole, but then little by little, his layers start to peel back and you see how much he cares. How much he feels. Libby I related to a lot because I've spent most of my life feeling like an outcast like her. And the fact that she's constantly battling inadequacy--oof! That hit me.

As far as ships go, sheesh, I gotta say I'm conflicted! I feel like there are so many different directions the author could go??? It's rare for me not to know where the romance is headed, even this early on in the series, but I really don't.

Parisa and Dalton seem to be the most obvious ship right now. Even so, there's something dark, something dangerous and unknown lurking there so I don't know if that'll work out. Nico and Libby have the enemies-to-lovers type banter and dynamic that I love to gobble up. They're a lot of fun. I enjoy their scenes a lot. It's interesting that they're bound/connected in their powers, too. I can't wait to learn more about that. I'd be totally fine if they went romantic...but then I'm also picking up a vibe between him and his roommate. So I don't know what to think? I could get behind Libby and Tristan as well. Their unresolved tension leaps - literally LEAPS - off the page and I like how their dynamic progressed from dislike (on his end) to respect to something more...well, undefinable as of yet. There's palpable sexual/emotional energy between them, though, for sure. Callum seems to genuinely care about Tristan but he's been so damn manipulative! He'd have to jump through some hoops for me to get on board.

As you can see I babble a LOT when I get excited haha.

Anyway, what about you? Do you have any favorite characters or ships so far? That twist at the end was pretty good, don't you think? It blew the whole story wide open. I'm so looking forward to the rest of the trilogy.

Can't wait to hear your thoughts! xx

#anonyous #darling acotar anon #replies #the loveliest of lovely people #ashlee bree talks books

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habibialkaysani · 5 years ago

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the devil in star city (laurel/nyssa; t) - part vi

Ships: Laurel/Nyssa, Laurel/Joanna

Summary: “My name is Laurel Lance. When I was eight years old I was in a car accident that left me without sight. But in the process, my other senses were heightened.

By day, I am a defence attorney, ready to fight for justice in the courtroom on behalf of those who the law has failed. By night, I am someone else. I am something else.

I am Daredevil.”

A/N: Welp! I would say I can't believe it's been over a year since i updated this, but, uh, to call 2020 a complete and utter nightmare of a year would be the understatement of the millennium, let's be real. If you're still following this fic, I hope you are keeping as well as can be during these troubled times.

Please note that Laurel's alcoholism in this chapter is explored and talked about quite a bit, so fair warning for anyone who might be triggered by talk of addiction.

Read at AO3

Laurel's stomach growled in complaint as she lay on her bed, reading the braille version of The Complete Guide to the LSAT. It wasn't exactly light reading, and Laurel, so immersed in Legal Theory, couldn't quite remember if she'd had lunch, so she was thrilled when she caught a whiff of the aroma of pizza.

Nyssa had to be maybe a couple floors down. Sure enough, a few minutes later Laurel heard the door click from where she'd left it open.

“Got the pizza,” Nyssa said as she entered the dorm.

“Nyssa Raatko,” Laurel said, shutting the book with a grin, “my hero.”

“You’re the one who's intent on trying to save the world. Why else would you be spending your afternoon poring over books when you could be wreaking havoc on campus with me?”

Before Laurel could reply, though, there was another voice. "Sorry - hope I'm not interrupting."

Laurel hadn't heard Jo coming, for once not anticipating her familiar footsteps - and for good reason. Joanna should have been en route to Star City by now, surely.

Ever the gentlewoman (or flirt, it was hard to tell with Nyssa), Nyssa placed the pizza box on the bed and stayed on her feet.

"Not at all," she said, extending her hand to Jo to shake. "I'm Nyssa. You must be Joanna. Laurel's told me so much about you."

Joanna chuckled. "I bet she has. And… everything she told me about you seems to tally up."

There was no reason for Laurel to be flustered, not really, but she was, in a way, unnerved by how her best friend was clearly sizing up her girlfriend. Laurel got hurriedly to her feet. "Hey, Jo. Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, my criminal procedure notes. Just didn't realise until I got to the train station."

Quickly Laurel reached behind her and found a sheaf of papers underneath Joanna's pillow. "These, right? We were going over them last night." There was a rustling sound as Jo took a look through them. Once Jo made a small sound of assent and began to unzip her backpack, Laurel moved towards Joanna and called back over her shoulder. "Nyssa, I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

"Sure."

At least Jo had the good grace to wait until the front door clicked shut behind Laurel before she said anything.

"Dinah Laurel Lance," she said, sounding half-amused, half-impressed. "Always did know how to pick 'em."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning, she's hot, and so are you, so you two are a match made in heaven!" Laurel didn't say anything at first, mostly just relieved that the momentary awkwardness between them was indeed momentary. "I mean," Jo tried to backtrack, "all the, uh, girls must love that. And I am so glad the days of me being your wingwoman are over."

"You have to admit, you've never been very good at it," Laurel said. She hesitated, wondering if she should say what was on her mind, but she then remembered that Jo had a train to catch. "You'd better go. You're gonna be late."

"Uh-uh. A train can wait. My best friend looking like she was going to say something important - that can't."

Laurel felt a surge of love for Jo then. "You know I'd follow you off a cliff, right?"

Joanna patted Laurel's cheek. "Damn right I do. Now, what's on your mind, Laurel?"

"I guess - you're talking like I'm gonna be with her forever."

"Don't you want to be?" Laurel wanted to say yes without hesitation, but again, something was holding her back. Jo sighed, then said, "Okay, look -"

"I can't see," Laurel said, and though exasperated (Jo had surely heard that one a dozen times by now) her words still elicited a laugh from Jo.

"Listen, then - when you first told me about her, I thought it was just… you know, one of your - conquests, or something."

"Or something," Laurel agreed.

"But seeing you with her now - I realised something. You know, aside from being gorgeous as hell… she wouldn't look at you like that if she wasn't head over heels in love with you."

The words "she's not in love with me" were hot on Laurel's tongue, but they faded and didn't quite make it out of her mouth. "I - how does she look at me?"

"Like she can't believe her luck," Joanna said softly. "Like you're too good for her but you choose to be with her anyway."

"I'm sure that's not -" Laurel started to say, but Joanna cut across her, probably more sharply than she intended.

"Uh-uh. Remember, rule number one in Jo's Dating Handbook -"

"- the teacher is always right," Laurel said, shaking her head in exasperation. "Whatever." Nevertheless, Joanna's words left Laurel feeling suitable chastised.

"And remember rule number seventeen. For the love of all things holy - and I know that shit is important to you - try not to screw it up."

Laurel nodded. "Understood." But then she reached out, tugged at Jo’s sleeve. "This whole sage relationship advice, did you ever think about taking it?"

Joanna laughed and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "Not even once."

Chuckling fondly, Laurel opened the door to her dorm, where the smell of pizza grew stronger.

"Everything all right?" Nyssa asked, as Laurel slowly sat back down on the bed. Laurel knew, from the way the bedsprings creaked, that Nyssa had assumed Laurel's position, lying on her front, the pizza box instead of the LSAT book open in front of her. "You were out there a while. I was wondering if I had to start without you." And as if on cue, Nyssa's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. "Oh, I bet your bat ears loved that."

Laurel tried to sound annoyed, but she didn't quite manage it, the corners of the mouth twitching into a grin despite herself. "They're not bat ears."

"Super ears," Nyssa suggested, and for good measure she reached out and tweaked Laurel's earlobe.

"I kind of regret telling you about this," Laurel said, and they both shared a chuckle because they knew perfectly well that that wasn't true. Laurel had never been able to talk about this with anyone - bar Lia, that is, and it wasn't like that had ended well. "Now, give me my pizza." Nyssa obliged, passing Laurel a slice. "Oh yeah," Laurel said through a mouthful of mushroom and olive pizza, "that's the good shit right there. Jo - she's always so boring with her pizza choices. Always goes for margherita."

There was quiet for a moment as they both ate, and then Nyssa said, "Hmm. Surprising when she strikes me as the adventurous type."

"She is, just in weird ways."

"Like what?"

"Like when she took Punjabi just because some girl she liked was taking it too. Not that she was great at it. But that's kinda what I love about her, to be honest."

"Did you two always get along?"

Laurel laughed. "Oh yeah. When I first got here, she was already in the dorm, enrolling into her classes, and I came in, introduced myself. Turned out she was from the Glades too. She grew up there, same as me. She - she heard about what happened to me, as a kid."

"What did she say?"

For a moment Laurel paused. "It wasn't too different to what you said when I told you what happened."

Now it was Nyssa's turn to laugh. "She said you were trying to save the world?"

"She said I was a hero," Laurel said slowly. "She said that was how she knew who I was - how everyone in the Glades knew who Laurel Lance was. The kid who put her life on the line to save a stranger."

"You don't agree?"

"I don't know. Did I even save him? I don't know. I don't remember. And it's not like I willingly chose to get blinded to save some random guy - it's not the same, it just happened, and it's not like I saved my -"

But now Laurel broke off, unable to finish her sentence with the sudden lump building in her throat, and instead she busied herself with finishing her slice. Nyssa didn't say anything, thank God, just kept eating. There was silence, the unexpectedly comfortable kind, interrupted only by the sounds of chewing, and the ripping of pizza as the two of them demolished what was left in the box, the quiet chuckles from both of them when they reached for the last slice at the same time. Laurel smiled as Nyssa got to it first, even more so when Nyssa tugged the slice in half and gave the larger piece to Laurel.

After flinging the empty box somewhat unceremoniously onto the floor, Nyssa shifted forward a bit, until her head was buried in Laurel's lap.

"She fancies you, you know," Nyssa said, just as Laurel began to stroke Nyssa's hair absentmindedly.

"What?"

“Joanna. She clearly has a thing for you."

"What makes you say that?" Laurel asked.

"The way she looks at you."

"If that were true - and I'm not gonna be the best judge of that - would that bother you?"

"Oh, not at all."

"You're forgetting that I can hear your heartbeat, Nyssa," Laurel said, twirling a few strands of Nyssa's hair with her fingers. "Are you really jealous?"

"Maybe a little," Nyssa admitted. "You must understand, relationships aren't exactly - my thing. It is simply not how I was built. This is new to me."

"They're not really my thing either," Laurel reminded her. "Listen. She's my best friend and I love her to pieces. But my bed is small enough as it is. I think there's only room for you."

"Okay." For a second Nyssa paused, and then she chuckled. "I never envisioned myself as the jealous type."

"With me - it's more that I never saw myself as the serious type. Serious enough to make someone jealous, I mean."

Laurel's words were greeted with silence as Nyssa took that in.

"And now?" Nyssa asked finally. "Has anything changed?"

"It's not like we've been together long -"

"I've not been together with anyone before," Nyssa interrupted. "Not really. Apart from you. And that was not what I asked, but I get it. I do. Letting someone in… that's scary. Especially for people like us."

Slowly Laurel let out a sigh of relief, as some of the trepidation that had been building up within her at Nyssa's every word started to dissipate. "People like us?"

"Come on." Nyssa was smiling - Laurel could hear it in her voice. "We hide from ourselves. We don't let anyone get close to us."

"You. I let you get close to me." This was Laurel's moment. She could say it, say the three little words that were practically on the tip of her tongue. Laurel could say what she felt like she had to say, both with a certainty she could feel in her bones and with the startling realisation of the truth: Laurel loved Nyssa.

This wasn't the old cliche of falling in love at first sight - that had never been befitting of Laurel. No, what she had with Nyssa was more like walking in love with her. Laurel usually kept people at bay, and usually the only one within arm's reach of her was Joanna. But with Nyssa - Laurel could feel herself walking steadily towards her. She had been drawn to Nyssa from the start. And now the distance between them was closing, each step Laurel took felt all the more thrilling and terrifying, in equal measure.

If their relationship was a painting, things were looking good for them - there wasn't an end in sight, they were still in their early stages, of sketches and backgrounds. But to make that canvas beautiful, a great work of art, rather than a good one that would fade into mediocrity or obscurity - that required bravery. To make a good thing great, Laurel knew she needed some bold strokes.

"Nyssa, I -" But of course Laurel couldn't get the words out, and in that moment she felt her mouth go so dry it was like she was tasting cotton wool on her tongue.

"Are you okay?" Nyssa asked, her hand moving to cup Laurel's cheek.

"Yeah," Laurel managed to say. "I, uh, I'm just tired, Nyssa. Sorry. I'm gonna - I'm gonna get ready for bed."

"I can go, if you want." Nyssa didn't sound upset - just confused, unsure, and suddenly Laurel was thrown even more off balance.

"Please don't," Laurel said, and it must have come out desperately, but Laurel was hit with this overwhelming feeling of just wanting to be held and nothing else. Taking Nyssa's hand, Laurel squeezed it. "I asked you to come over, remember? And I - I want you to stay. Please?"

To Laurel's relief, Nyssa answered her with a kiss. "Of course. The things I do for you, dearest."

"Thank you," Laurel murmured, getting to her feet, and she couldn't help but smile as Nyssa followed suit, rummaging in Laurel's drawers for mere seconds before unearthing one of Laurel's t-shirts.

Later that night, Laurel sat bolt upright in her bed, jolted unexpectedly from her dream, only realising when her hand met her damp hairline that she was drenched in sweat.

The sound that woke her was a siren. She could hear it now, stopping and starting several times before the noise spluttered to life and assaulted Laurel's eardrums in relentless waves. It was too loud, everything was too loud, and even as Nyssa stirred vaguely next to her, Laurel wasn't in the present anymore - her dream had thrust her forcibly and uncomfortably into the past. The sirens grew louder, even though she could no longer hear the grind of the police car's engine, instead the clamouring of ambulances and the constant beeps of a hundred different machines. It was like she was a kid again in the hospital room with her comatose father, the shirt he fought his final fight in still clutched in her hand -

"Laurel?"

Gasping, Laurel realised from the ache in her neck and pain in the back of her head that she had fallen off the bed, and it was only then that she came to. Nyssa was by her side in an instant, trying to take Laurel's hand, but Laurel kept pulling away.

But Nyssa didn't let go, simply holding on tighter, and then pulling Laurel to her feet.

"Can you walk?" Nyssa asked softly.

"I - I think so."

Laurel was a little unsteady, but she managed it, only realising from the gentle pressure that Nyssa was leading her to the door. "Where are we going?"

"The roof," Nyssa answered. "I think you told me once that it's got one hell of a view."

It was a bad joke, but Laurel chuckled nonetheless.

"In the middle of the night?"

"Just figured we could get your mind to be elsewhere if we are on top of the world for once. You and me."

Laurel was silent, but she let Nyssa lead her up several flights of stairs. By the time they got to the top they were both panting.

"This view - better be worth it," Laurel said breathlessly.

"Oh, it is. The stars are fucking gorgeous tonight." Nyssa was already at the edge, and Laurel joined her a second later, leaning against Nyssa, who had brought up a blanket that she draped over Laurel's shoulders.

"If you wanted to know what that was -"

"You had a nightmare," Nyssa said calmly. "Happens."

"You're not gonna ask me why I -" Laurel broke off, though, because she wasn't even sure what to say.

"Laurel, I learned weeks ago that if you wanted to share something with me, you would do so in your own time. Not when I demand it." At first Laurel didn't say anything in reply, and when the silence stretched on for a minute longer, Nyssa added quietly, "If it helps - the sirens keep me up at night too, sometimes. I can… only imagine how much that problem is amplified with you. Literally."

Laurel shook her head. "It's not just that. I mean - that's part of it. All that noise brought back shitty memories."

"Of the accident?" Laurel must have looked surprised, because Nyssa's hand crept up to touch Laurel's cheek with an unexpected softness.

"Not the accident. I've just been - dreaming a lot. About when my dad died."

"He was murdered," Nyssa said - and there was unexpected bluntness in her tone.

"Yeah." Laurel's voice was small, and she wondered if she wanted to go on, or if she could.

"Did they ever catch the bastard who did it?"

"No. Never. I went after him once - Dan Brickwell is his name. But he went underground after my dad's death. Haven't heard about him since."

"Let's hope he's six feet under, then."

"Amen to that," Laurel said savagely, but instantly when Nyssa caught Laurel's had with her own, Laurel softened a bit. "Hey. I'm sorry, by the way."

"What on earth for, my love?"

God. Laurel didn't know how Nyssa did that - how she managed to be so casually and unabashed affectionate in her words, without sounding scared even for a second.

"I know I talk about heavy shit a lot. Sometimes it's all I talk about -"

"It really isn't," Nyssa interrupted. "And even if it is, you're allowed to talk about what traumatises you, because often that's all you can think about. Especially now. Especially with me."

"You're wrong," Laurel found herself saying.

"What?"

"You're wrong about my trauma being all I can think about. I mean - for a while it was. But now… now I have you."

"You can have me as many times as you like," Nyssa whispered silkily.

"I know that," Laurel said, and they shared a laugh. "But I meant that you're all I think about nowadays, Nyssa Raatko. I mean - you get under my skin like no one else ever has. You get me. And I've - probably told you more in the little time that I've known you than I've told anyone in my life before." I Laurel held her breath, waiting for the gentle fall of Nyssa breathing out, but it seemed like Nyssa too was waiting for the other penny to drop. "I guess… what I'm trying to say is - maybe, I think - I might love you."

Laurel wasn't sure what to expect by her sudden confession, or what brought it on in the first place. Maybe it was the cool air fanning against her cheeks, the fact that the trip up the stairs let Laurel expel some of the pent up adrenaline that was disturbing her sleep, or the comfort she felt in Nyssa's body heat under the blanket they shared.

But it still took Laurel aback when she felt a feather-light kiss on her forehead, then her nose, and then one that lingered on her lips. Laurel could taste Nyssa's smile, and if she were more optimistic, she could have anticipated that, just not the words Nyssa uttered next: "Maybe I might love you too."

Several times Laurel opened and closed her mouth without managing to say anything, and when words failed her she grabbed a handful of the t-shirt Nyssa was wearing to kiss her hungrily. She got what Nyssa meant now, about being on top of the world, because that was how she felt taking Nyssa Raatko's breath away, and Nyssa, lifting Laurel off her feet, kissed her back, all of it quietly witnessed by the stars in the heavens above them.

"Do you think that's crazy?" Laurel said eventually, her voice soft and wanting as she finally pulled away. Her lips were tingling, Nyssa's sharp intake of breath making Laurel's heart soar into the night skies. "I just - never thought I'd be that girl, you know? I thought being in love only happened in books and songs. But I am." Laurel smiled. "God knows it. He has for a while."

"So you figured you'd let me in on the secret, huh?"

"Something like that." For a moment Laurel paused, as another siren sounded - but it was a little quieter this time. More distant. Laurel was grateful for that, for the height they were at, that meant the wail that often echoed in her head faded a bit. Her head was a bit clearer, thankfully.

"Mostly I was worried about what you'd say, when not even two months ago we were complete strangers… that it would scare you. Like it scares me. And that you'd - leave. Like people usually do with me."

"I fear nothing about the two of us." Laurel's scepticism must have shown on her face, because then Nyssa caught her hand with her own and placed it on her chest. "Listen to my heart if you must. You know it's true."

And of course Nyssa was right - the thud of Nyssa's heartbeat was steady as ever. Unexpectedly Laurel wrapped her arms around Nyssa, hugging her, burying her face into Nyssa's neck. "Thank you," Laurel said softly. "For sticking around. For not running when you could have."

"If I'm running anywhere, it's with you," Nyssa replied, tucking Laurel's hair behind her ear. "I mean that. You're all I think about too."

"Nyssa Raatko, are you getting soft on me?"

"Maybe," Nyssa said, "but you'll never be able to prove it. Even when you're a hotshot lawyer."

"You really think I'll get there?" Laurel asked, and a little bit of the floaty feeling Laurel had felt since Nyssa said those words back to her began to drift away.

"I know so."

"You can tell the future now?"

"Of course I can. And I see a great one for you. And for me, after we get married…"

"You think that will be legal by then?" Laurel asked as they began to head across the roof to the stairs that would lead them down, eventually, to Laurel's dorm.

"... and we raise our kids behind that wonderful white picket fence -"

"God, please, no, Nyssa. You know you'd die in the suburbs."

"Sure, but you'd make an excellent mum. Though for everyone's sake, and their health, we should leave the cooking to me…"

"I'll have you know I can make an excellent macaroni cheese -"

Their good-natured bickering continued even as they took off at a run down the stairs, the blanket swishing like a cape on Laurel's shoulders. When they got back to Laurel's dorm, they collapsed on the bed together, sweaty limbs entangled.

It didn't last that long, only a few golden hours, but it was enough at the time for Laurel.

***

A couple days later, it was once again the middle of the night. She didn't quite know how she got to where she was, cradling a bottle of whiskey with her back against Joanna's closet door - Laurel couldn't remember even getting out of bed, actually. She just knew, as it hit her, all at once, that she was going to bite the bullet and launch herself well and truly off the wagon.

It was different, she told herself, from falling off the wagon, which Laurel thought sounded more accidental or unintentional. No. Laurel knew what she was doing and what she was walking into, and the phantom urge to follow the smell of booze and walk into a bar, or rummage through the stash Laurel knew Jo kept in her closet, grew stronger day by day. And in that moment she sat in darkness she knew surrounded her but couldn’t see. Slowly, she contemplated the conundrum she held in her hands in front of her, for the question really was to drink or not to drink, and she didn't know the answer. Laurel was not altogether surprised to hear the rustling of bedsheets and the sound of getting to her feet. Laurel waited, held her breath as she listened to Nyssa's soft footsteps on the rug -

"Laurel?"

"Why are you awake?"

But Nyssa ignored the question. "Are you planning on drinking that, or did you buy the bottle just for you to cuddle?"

Despite herself, Laurel couldn't stop the fleeting laugh from leaving her mouth. "You're saying that like you want me to."

"No," Nyssa said calmly. "I'm asking if you want to." She paused for a second. "And maybe why."

"What about you?"

Nyssa scoffed. "You know I do not care for alcohol."

"No, I mean, why? What's stopping you?"

"I suppose it is a cultural thing. Some practices just stick with you for life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean where I come from… we viewed intoxicants with disdain. That and - I know that if I am constantly inebriated and dependent on it, that will affect my judgement, my memory, even my choices. Besides which - I despise the smell of alcohol. It is most unpleasant to me."

"I hate it too," Laurel admitted.

"But -"

"I know, I know, how can I be addicted to something I don't like? It doesn't make any sense. Like - I don't want to take so many steps backward that I'd be right back where I started. But I also - I need it."

"Need what?"

Laurel knew what she needed, and it wasn't an AA meeting or a hurried phone conversation with her sponsor - at least, in her head, all Laurel could think about was the burning feeling of whiskey going down her throat and exactly how much she craved it. She was thirsty for something, anything, that could fill this sudden, gaping hollow of sadness in her soul. She needed something to patch over the nicks of uncertainty in her heart.

"You know when you get a paper cut? And you wait to see if it bleeds, and sometimes it's just a tiny thin red line, but it stings like hell, so you -"

"- you squeeze it," Nyssa said suddenly. "Or you press on that bit of skin and make the pain worse for a second because…" But now, Nyssa trailed off, and it was the silent understanding that passed through them as Nyssa knelt by Laurel's side.

"This is pain I need, Nyssa." Laurel thought of her father, of the blood that covered her fingertips when they reached his chest, the deathly smell that lingered beneath her nails for at least a week after he died. "This is the pain I deserve."

“That’s not true.”

“How would you know?” she shot out bitterly, but she felt bad instantly. She edged further back and was surprised Nyssa didn’t come closer.

“I don’t need to hear your heartbeat to know when you’re upset about something,” Nyssa said - and she did so in a whisper so quiet that only Laurel would be able to hear. "Tell me what's wrong." A pause, and then, Nyssa added, "Please?"

"It's nothing," Laurel insisted, but she was already softening: she held out her hand, lowered her defences just enough to let Nyssa in. "I just - yesterday was March 5th. When my dad died. And I forgot. How could I forget something like that? How - how could I be so caught up in my life that I -"

"You're human, that's why. Despite what I may say about your super hearing," Nyssa said, gently tweaking Laurel's earlobe and finally getting a laugh from Laurel, "you are a mere mortal. You forget things, and then you remember. You have temptations, vices - and you find the strength, somehow, to resist them. And you look at yourself and think the worst because you see only your flaws, but then…" Laurel sighed at the feeling of Nyssa's fingertips, feather-light against her cheek.

"Then I find a beautiful girl at a party and ask her to dance," Laurel murmured. "No, I know. But it's more like - too much shit piled up.”

“I don’t follow.”

“There’s something else. About my dad’s death. The man who ordered the hit -"

"Brickwell?"

"Yeah. I heard on the radio while you were out getting stuff for dinner that he… he got out on a technicality."

"I thought you said your dad's murderer was never caught?"

"He wasn't. Brick doesn't get his hands dirty when he can avoid it. He was only in for a weapons charge, and even then they couldn't make it stick with the appeal."

"So now he's free?" Nyssa asked. Laurel just nodded hopelessly.

"I got my hopes up, Nyssa. I thought that maybe the system did work. That the law would do what it was supposed to do, that there might actually be justice - even if not directly for my dad then for him being a - a -"

"A complete and utter piece of garbage?" Nyssa suggested helpfully.

"That’s an understatement. I just felt so helpless. And it got me thinking about what my dad would think, of me, of what I'm trying to do with my life. What he died for. If it was in vain when even now it seems like I'm fighting a losing battle." Laurel didn't realise until then that she was breathing shakily. "It got me thinking about whose fault his death really was."

There was silence as Nyssa took this in, and there was no mistaking the incredulity in her voice. “Don’t tell me you actually blame yourself for his death?”

For a moment, Laurel didn’t say anything, simply moving her hand to enclose Nyssa’s wrist. Then, Laurel said, “Okay, then. I won’t.”

There was more silence, and for a second Laurel’s grip slackened on Nyssa’s arm, until Nyssa took hold of her hand with both of hers and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

“I told you he was killed. I never said why.” Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Laurel tried to collect herself, but the next words came as a sob. “It was because of me.”

She expected Nyssa to make excuses for her, in a futile attempt to absolve Laurel of the sins that haunted her. But Nyssa didn't do that. “How?” she asked instead, and her tone was level, steady, just like her heartbeat.

"I overheard him once. When he was training in the ring and I was doing my homework - someone came to talk to him, wanting to fix the fight. And my dad -" Laurel's voice cracked for a second, and this time when Nyssa made to put her arms around her Laurel didn't stop her. "- my dad was Larry Lance. Always broke as shit, a single father, with a blind kid who needed expensive braille books. He had very few options. So of course he agreed. And on the night of the fight… he was getting ready, telling me not to wait up, and I -"

"Oh, Laurel."

"I told him what I heard. I couldn't believe my dad was going to cave to the gangs in the Glades when he was always telling me I could make it a better place. And I got angry at him, Nyssa. I said he was being a hypocrite, that - one of the last things I said to my father was that he wasn't as brave as I thought he was. And because he listened to me… because he didn't lose like he agreed to - he paid the ultimate price. So it is my fault."

"So what?"

"Excuse me?"

"I don't think it was your fault, Laurel. But clearly you do. And I don't get to tell you what your truth is - I just want to know how you think you're going to find the answer to your guilt in that bottle."

"I'm not looking for an answer. I'm -" Laurel searched for the words, finally settling on, "I have a lot of rough edges. A lot of that is guilt. The booze smooths them over a bit."

"You say that. But you know that it won't last. And later down the line you'll have even more of the guilt for succumbing to something you've fought off for a year." Nyssa hesitated for a moment, then said, "I know I never met him, but - you're strong, Laurel. Stronger than you know."

"You say that, but we tied last time we sparred." Laurel knew she was deflecting again, but she couldn't help it - her heart was aching and she felt rubbed raw with vulnerability. Nyssa seemed to sense this, cupping her cheek and running her thumb down Laurel's jaw.

"My guess is that you were raised to be that way by your father. But also - the strongest metal is forged in the hottest fire, after all, and you found strength in the face of adversity, Laurel, and it's one of the things I love most about you." Laurel couldn't stop her smile if she tried now.

"I wanna be brave, Nyssa. Like I told my dad to be. I just don't know how."

"About your father… do you want to talk about him?"

"Do you really want to know?" Laurel asked doubtfully.

"Laurel. Darling. First off, daddy issues are definitely in my wheelhouse."

"You and me both, sweetheart."

"And second - you should know by now that I would gladly listen to you reading the Constitution if you really wanted to talk about it."

Laurel smiled, and as Nyssa got to her feet, Laurel did the same. She turned, opening Jo's closet door and placing the bottle back inside. Nyssa was waiting for her, and on impulse Laurel kissed her, taking Nyssa by surprise.

"What was that for?" Nyssa asked softly.

"I love you,” Laurel whispered, “for everything that you are. And for not giving up on me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

“That makes one of us.”

“One day it’ll be both of us.”

They got back into bed, Laurel's arm going around Nyssa's waist and pulling her close.

"So, uh, did you wanna start with the separation of powers?"

"Separation of what?"

"Separation of powers into three branches of government?" Laurel said teasingly, and Nyssa made a few sounds of confusion. “I thought you wanted me to talk about the Constitution?”

“Oh, that’s what you were talking about!” The thing was, it sounded like Nyssa wasn’t even kidding, and that made Laurel laugh. "How about I tell you about my family, and you tell me about yours?"

Come to think of it, Laurel didn’t know much about Nyssa’s family at all - just that she had a sister and that she was adopted. She wanted to know more about the woman she loved.

"Deal."

Tagging: @prett-ybird @mysunnyonesotrue @unusual-raccoon @avasharpe @light-miracles @nyssalance @saraa-lancee @nerd-spikey @i-should-be-asleep-probably @bioft @flyingofftoneverlandforgood

#lauryssa #laurel x nyssa #laurel lance #nyssa al ghul #arrow #arrow fanfiction #daredevil au #mattelektra au #mine #my fic #otp: dinner's on me #fic: the devil in star city #alcoholism tw #addiction tw

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the-wiresmarvelau · 4 years ago

Text

T.H.E. W.I.R.E.S.

Chapter 1 Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Arival 1

The first thing he noticed as he slowly regained consciousness, was how soft everything was.

A warm cloud-like texture enveloped his upper body, while what covered his legs was a little cooler, smother and he seemed to sink into the ground underneath him.

His whole body ached, but the pain had lost the sharp edge that he had almost grown accustomed to.

Thinking was too much of an effort right now, so he didn’t. Instead savouring the feeling of cotton in his brain and pulsing in his limbs.

With time though, he got more and more aware of his surroundings.

The air was cooler than what he had had to endure in the dungeons, but he smelled steam and salt waving over, as well as a smell he couldn’t quite place.

Light trickled through his closed eyelids, not very bright but enough to be a little uncomfortable.

He couldn’t quite place what all of that meant though and he made sure not to move or make a sound until the fog in his head cleared enough to know what to do.

Because he sure as hell wasn't alone. Rustling clothes and after a while the clinking of porcelain and metal against each other made it clear that someone was in the same room as him.

Metal….

Only now did he realise that his hands weren't cuffed anymore.

Curious.

It took him a few seconds more until he remembered.

Frigga had broken him out. She had gotten him out of the dungeon and brought him to Midgard.

At least that had been the plan.

Peter had spent hours reading, before he got too hungry to concentrate and decided that cold eggs on toast, wouldn’t be his choice for the first meal after what was probably years of torture.

So, he ate them while thinking of what to do next.

When he saw a slight twitch on the face of the unconscious form, he took that to mean that he would soon be waking up, or at least had gone from being out cold to just sleeping.

Taking into account that the teen really wasn't the best of cooks, he decided to just make some pasta with tomato sauce.

Better something simple then something burned.

About half way in, he noticed a hitch in the god’s breathing as well as a change in his heartrate.

Satisfied that he had been right, he turned his attention to the stove again.

A little more rest surely wouldn’t hurt and he didn’t want to rush the other.

Only when the table was set and the food all done did he speak up.

“Can you move enough to eat at the table or do you want to eat in bed?”

Just as he wanted to raise his eyes, to look at Loki, the bowl Frigga had left caught his eyes again.

About a dozen small vials lay in it now as well as a letter with the God’s name on it.

That could wait until later though.

As he looked over to the bed, he saw its occupant, struggling to turn enough to see him.

With a smile half sad, half relived on his face he went over to help the god into a sitting position.

Exhaustion was written all over his face but one corner of his mouth was slightly turned upwards.

“It worked” he whispered almost deliriously. “You kept your word.”

The brunette nodded and brought over their food, so they could eat together.

Savouring the taste of his first real meal in what felt like forever, the Jotun took his time.

Minutes went by in a strange sort of silence. Peter wanted to make sure he wouldn’t cross any lines or make his company uncomfortable while almost bursting with curiosity.

Loki on the other hand was still out of it. His hands shook and thinking was a chore with how hard it was to grasp anything that was going on.

But he was safe; that much he knew.

When they were finished eating, Peter introduced Loki to the AI, living with him.

It was obvious that the god tried to pay attention but struggled, so the teen soon decided to let him rest for a while longer.

At least the vigilante felt like he could leave the room for a bit without worrying his guest might die while he was out.

He helped the god lay back down and put the fancy bowl with the vials in it into the small, elevated crevasse at the back corner of the bed; since it was meant as a sort of nightstand anyway.

Then he went up to his room to get ready for a patrol.

On his way he made sure, Manuel knew to try and not spook the Asgardian too much and tell him when the hero would be back.

The moment he put on his suit and therefore connected with KAREN she tried to find out why he went out of his way to have Manuel out on his watch, even though he also was in the walls there.

It almost sounded like she was jealous- even though that shouldn’t be possible- giving Peter an opening to evade her question by teasing her, to come up with a lie.

Somehow, he managed to convince her to split the time spent with the AIs along the same lines, he split his life into Spiderman and Peter Parker.

While swinging towards New York City he was finally able to relax and collect himself again.

Knowing the god was safe in his room and nobody suspected a thing, was a huge weight off his chest.

After all, FRIDAY was due to be uploaded tomorrow and the chances of him wandering outside without his suit on were slim enough that it seemed almost miraculous to him that the goddess had caught him in a perfect moment like that.

Luck seemed for once to be on his side, making it impossible to wipe the smile from his face, as he arrived in his normal territory; Not that he wanted to.

High spirited as he was, he followed an instinct, telling him to swing a little farther than usual in the hopes of meeting that devil fella again.

He still hadn't gotten a clear read of this guy.

But he seemed nice enough, and if the spider wasn't completely wrong, the other had a few questions for him.

Right now, he just really wanted to talk to somebody so he hoped that Red would be fine with this.

The next time he heard the tell-tale *whip* again, which gave away the spider themed Vigilante, was when he was just on his way home from a night out with Foggy and Karen.

Matt Murdock had always been hell set on being independent.

Just because he was blind didn't mean that he needed help with everything.

Then again; He had also never been above using his disability and others' helpfulness to his advantage.

So, dropping his cane, he made a show out of cursing and tapping around the ground in the completely false direction to get spiderman's attention.

Last time they spoke, almost everything about the other had been puzzling to him.

While they had been fighting, his reflexes had been unnaturally accurate, and at times it had seemed like electric shocks cursed suddenly through his body, eliciting a little jerk of his head as if startled.

But the strangest thing was that, technically, a heart rate as fast as his resting one, should have him hyperventilating.

This irritated him to no end, because it meant that he couldn’t accurately figure out if he was being lied to like he could with others.

Especially when taking into account that his heartrate had been actually slower while he was fighting, then when afterwards, instead of the other way round.

As he listened closely for the other vigilante’s heartbeat right now, it was the same. Much too fast to be normal, even factoring in the adrenalin from his method of transportation.

Careful to keep his act up, he flinched back at the sound of feet hitting the ground right beside him.

“Excuse me, sir. It’s Spider-Man, ‘you want me to help you?” the masked man asked in a chipper tone.

“Yeah, uhm” He cleared his throat while shakily standing up. A bit worried if he was exaggerating a little too much “That would be great.”

While the other bent down to pick up the cane, Daredevil thought of what to say. How straightforward could he be about this?

“What brings you to Hell’s kitchen, if you don’t mind me asking? As far as I know the Devil is pretty territorial.” Way to go Murdock; Not at all suspicious.

“Well, that’s not at all concerning.” He raised an eyebrow at the choice of words, coupled with how nonchalantly they were spoken.

How young was this guy?

A subtle touch of the handle against the back of his hand alerted the blind man of his cane’s position.

”But I was only here to talk anyways. You haven’t by chance .. uh… heard?.. Of any sightings today?” There it was. The awkwardness around the topic of his vision.

At least he tried.

“I didn’t...” His head leaned to one side, angled up a bit; his hands both resting on his cane in typical Murdock fashion. “I also never heard you guys were buddy’s”

That’s what people did, wasn’t it? Jump to conclusions? Hopefully it would keep him talking.

“It’s not like we meet each Wednesday for a picnic on the rooftops or anything. And even if we knew each other that good it’s safer for us the less people know anything about that sort of thing.”

Clever of him.

He didn’t really reveal any clear information. Everything could mean one thing or it’s opposite without him having to tell a lie.

“I guess so, after all, if you knew him that good, you would know that he isn't out at this time of day. He goes around in the evening or the night, mostly.”

The vigilante coked his head to the side inquisitively. “Is that so? Good to know.”

Luckily, it didn't seem to damp his mood that much.

“You wouldn't mind escorting me home, would you?” The blind man asked, after a moment of hesitation.

“Sure, why not?” Daredevil wasn't anxious about being found out by this younger hero.

He knew surprisingly little about his alter ego. And for some reason, he trusted that the other wouldn't rat him out. Having his own secret identity.

So they chatted on their way back to Matt’s flat before Spider-man took off in the direction of queens again.

The rest of patrol consisted of the usual: a few muggings, a few cats in trees and old women to be helped over the street.

He broke up one thing that looked like an attempted rape and escorted the frightened girl to the police station.

As his curfew grew nearer, the closer he stayed to the tower. He had to let himself be seen there, soon Mr. Stark would assume something that happened to him.

When he decided that he was out long enough, he stuck to the side of the building and asked Karen to contact Friday to open a window for him.

She opened the window to the former Avengers common room.

It didn't get used much now that the rogues were on the run, and Tony preferred to use the common rooms in his own penthouse.

Since Friday had opened the window there, Peter was pretty sure that Mr. Stark was in the labs, which he wasn't allowed to climb into from the outside.

On his way to the kitchen area, he got rid of his mask.

Nobody who didn't already know his secret Identity had enough clearance to come up here anyway, not since the rogues hadn't been pardoned yet.

That was also what he didn't already panic when he heard the elevator come up to his level and people talking inside.

Tony had probably been notified of his arrival and came up from the lab, talking probably to Friday or Pepper.

As the elevator opened, however, he didn't recognize the footsteps next to the mechanic, and it was definitely not Pepper speaking up.

“That... was a lot. Though I can't say that I'm really surprised; you too always had this… quarrel going between you two.”

Panicked Peter Scrambled for his mask, glad about a super hearing, which was the only thing giving him enough time to put it on before the two men stepped into the room enough to see him.

He carried on ruffling through the pantries, as if he hadn't just had a heart nearly had a heart attack.

He may have just eaten a few hours ago, but he had had exercise and his super metabolism demanded sustenance.

“Yes, well then it will surprise you even more, that I am the one who is trying to mend the accords so everyone can agree to sign them.” The much more familiar voice of Tony came from the door; then: “oh. Hey Spidey”.

“Morning, Mr. Stark.” The addressee answered, head still in a pantry, searching for his favourite flavoured pop tarts.

That seemed to startle the unknown man, for he gave out a little squeak, as if surprised that somebody else was present.

“Well, you didn't say that Spider-Man would be here.” He led out just as Peter found what he was searching for, and pulled the box out along with a bag of Doritos.

“That's because I wasn't until two minutes ago.” He quipped as an answer while turning around and promptly almost dropping everything he had in his arms to the floor.

At the entrance to the kitchen area stood, no none other than Bruce freaking Banner, seven PhDs, a master of science and most renowned researcher of gamma radiation with a sheer endless number of articles published under his name.

The youngest had read all of them, soaked up every single world, in the hopes of finding out more about what had happened with a spider bite.

After Tony Stark, Banner was this greatest idol in science - not to speaker of the scientific miracle that was the Hulk.

But at this first reaction, Banner’s face dropped.

He really shouldn't be surprised, every time he got recognized for who he was, people reacted in fear; if they even recognized him.

But the very next second he was proven wrong.

The vigilante came over in a few long strides and began to excitedly chat at a near inhuman speed.

“Oohmygooodd.It’syouIt’sBruceBanner. I’msuchagreatfanofyourworkwithgammaradiation. And how you managed to trace the energy signature of the sceptre?!? It’ssoocooltomeetyou!!”

As he looked to his mentor with stars in his eyes, all he could do was break out laughing.

Tony knew that his protégé was excitable but right now that trait had reached an all-time high.

When he had himself under control again, he looked up at the others; almost losing it once more at the furious blush spreading over Bruce’s faces and the comically large eyes of the mask Peter was wearing.

Upon seeing that Peter pouted.

Even without seeing his face Tony seemed to pick up on that, as he put an arm over his shoulder in the way he always did when trying to console the boy.

“Breath, kid. Or I might get the impression that you like him better than me.”

“Oh, don't worry, Mr. Stark. You will always be my favourite, but this is Bruce Freaking Banner we’re talking about. You cannot tell me that his work on the effects of radiation on electronics isn't credible?!”

The billionaire just laughed as an answer. While the aforementioned scientist, blushed furiously.

“That was ages ago. You really read all of those papers?”

“Of course, Dr. Banner. I read every single paper you have published.”

“He isn't joking either,” Mr. Stark added ”I’ve quizzed him once because I couldn't believe it, but he really did read every single one.”

“I'm flattered,” Bruce muttered, for lack of better words.

Peter flushed a tooth to grin which couldn't be seen by the other two, but he knew Mr. Stark would catch up on that; he had become good at interpreting his body language.

That theory was promptly proven right by Mr. Stark saying, “wipe that grin off your face, it makes me jealous.”

“Alright, your right. Mr. Stuck.” Peter answered. “But for the much better question, not to be rude or anything, but where were you? You were like untraceable for several years now. It must be so weird to come back after all this time.”

The concern was audible in his voice, and it made the man beside him chuckle.

“The kid has a point. Care to explain Brucey-bear?”

“Well, you know how the hulk kind of got his hands on one of Tony’s quinjets?” Bruce asked. Still a little shy.

Peter nodded in confirmation.

“Well, somehow it got us out of earth’s atmosphere and onto an unknown planet. It was some kind of post-apocalyptic hellhole... all full of ruins, not a living soul. And the big guy didn't let me have a turn in the body to go and fix a jet.

“He had his fun on the planet for over a year at which point I kind of manage to take advantage of the times you slept to take a look at the quinjet and try to repair it. Considering the limited supply of materials and tools I had, it took quite some time.

“But I managed as you see, and I somehow found a way back here. Once in the small shuttle, it was much easier to convince the big guy to stay down, and let me take control.” While Bruce had been speaking, they had all sat down on the table while Peter had gathered all he had dropped.

“That is so cool, Dr. Banner. But what made it so hard to change back on the other planet? Could it have been a difference in gravity and atmosphere, which made it harder to get control for yourself.

“Maybe the other planet had a different form of radiation level. Which would have killed a human, which would have been dangerous for a human, so the Hulk stayed?

“Mr. Stark once told me that he is able to take control if you’re in dangerous situations; to keep you to your life.” The boy had become noticeably more hesitant towards the end and Bruce appreciated the consideration of a mental state, though he couldn’t help wondering just how much Stark had told the kid.

“It could be. I can't be sure since I wasn't able to measure anything. As I said, limited access to tools.”

The boy just nodded and his mentor could see the millions of theories floating around the boy's head from the way his fingers seemed to pluck on visible strings in mid-air. While his palms dragged over, his suit over and over again.

He had witnessed the sort of movement quite often from his protégé. It seemed to help him think or calm down after a nightmare.

“I think that is enough about the big guy for now.” The engineer interrupted. “But now that Bruce will be living with us again: How far you with a compound kid?”

Peter only reacted with a slow turning of his head.

His mind still a million miles away. So, I took him a few seconds to come back in the real world.

“Yeah, I'm finished with most rooms by now.. I think. If you're coming soon there. But your room is finished already.” He said, distractedly at first, before shaking his head and coming to his senses.

“We only have to install Friday and we're good to go. Well, as I said, a few rooms need a little bit of touching up, but I get that done in the next few days.” Peter reported truthfully.

“Sounds lovely. We're going to come over tomorrow some time.” Tony said, shooting a questioning glance at the other scientist. “That is if his lab is ready.” He finished. And Peter shook his head.

“I still have to install a thing or two, but I should be done sometime in the afternoon.”

“I'm not planning to be awake any time before noon anyway. And I assume Bruce over here can deal with a little bit of sleeping in, too.” He just got a nod in response from the two.

“You're going to say in for the night?” Tony asked the teen beside him.

“No, I'll get back to the compound and make sure I haven't forgotten anything. Still have to finish the lab tomorrow. And I don't want to stand up too early either.”

With that, he stuffed a pop-tart in his mouth and went to the next window, which Friday already opened for him, once she noticed what he was about to do.

“See around” he said, flinging himself out of the window, prompting a groan from his mentor and a frightened squeak from the other scientist in the room.

“Jesus. This kid! The bane of my existence - and the cause for all of my grey hair.” Tony commented before showing his guest to the room he’d be sleeping in for the night.

Chapter 1 Chapter 5 Chapter 7

#chapters #chapter 6 #peter parker #loki marvel #fanfic #MCU #i don't know how tags work #marvel #sorry for the wait #i forgot to post it here

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mor-beck-more-problems · 5 years ago

Text

Desperate Gal Pals of White Crest || Morgan & Cece

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @thebickedwitchoftherest & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and Cece hit a roadblock with their research on an exorcism, so they take a field trip.

CONTAINS: drug manipulation tw (magic poisoning), gun (not fired),

“I know I literally can’t get tired, but if I see one more book handwave harm exorcisms away with ‘wooo dark magic’ and ‘oooh dangerous! Sacrifice!’ I am going keel over with exhaustion. You’ll have to call Regan for my autopsy and explain to my girlfriend that boredom and no helpful answers is the new hip cause of death.” Morgan flopped down the side of the couch, her head dangling over the edge. “Tell me you’ve got something to banish Puritain Carrie,” she groaned. “I need a win. Literally...any kind of win. A can of seltzer of a win.”

Cece was lying on her back on the ground, book in hand and avoiding reading it by listening to Morgan’s melodramatic self-eulogy. She at least knew how to spice up a story and make it more interesting. She made dying of boredom sound marginally interesting. The irony was not lost on Cece. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on me for the record. How am I supposed to talk at your funeral and make your death sound badass that way?” Cece eventually gave in, shutting the book and tossing it away from her in her own dramatic show of exacerbation. “Nothing. These books have lots about magic and yet a surprisingly lacking amount of ghosts. My coven really should have expanded their horizons a bit.” Cece stated, mostly to herself. She rolled over onto her stomach, finding Morgan’s eyes again and pushing herself up, “We need some new source material. There’s got to be somewhere around town with some decent exorcism knowledge, right?”

“You’ll have to make something up much cooler,” Morgan sighed. “Just don’t promise any of my fae friends to tell the truth about me and you’ll be good.” She looked over at the pile of books around them, new purchases on the diamond card Deirdre had gotten for her, and pulls from the Scribrary. She felt guilty about those the most, sneaking in and using Rio’s resources for something he was bound to hate. “We have to be looking in the wrong place. The wrong key-words, or the wrong sections in the library. You would think ‘most brutal harm exorcism’ would be a short dig, but…” She puffed air through her lips. “Apparently the powers that be think discretion is super ‘in.’ Tell me what you found. Let’s go over it again.”

“No worries there. I don’t like making promises to humans.” Cece laughed, thinking of any ideas she could to spice up Morgan’s imagined death and make it a bit more grandeur. She wondered how she could fit fireworks into the story. Maybe one of the daredevil car jumps through a flaming circle. No, this was all way too distracting when she was supposed to be focusing. She shook the thought away and reached for the notepad that she had used to take any notes that she found vaguely helpful. Emphasis on vague. “Nothing too useful. I found some old history on this former Scribe that studied exorcisms. John something. Sounded like a real bore. I got an autobiography by this Amanda Wallace chick who wrote about her haunted house and how she got rid of it. Not exactly sure how factual that one actually is. Basically, I have nothing but crap. You sure we can’t just call the ghostbusters in for this one?”

Morgan’s brow furrowed at the name Wallace. “Is that name from a comic book movie? It sounds familiar…” She turned herself right side up and crawled to Cece to read over her shoulder. She moved so fast, her focus was groggy, but the illustration on the page she was looking at definitely seemed familiar. “No, wait, that’s...fuck, that was in something I read. Not here but…” Morgan fumbled for her laptop and started digging through her browsing history. She looked sheepishly over at Cece, glad that she couldn’t blush. “...Don’t judge me, okay?” She mumbled. Buried under searches for pirated theory articles, halloween themed lingerie, and Buzzfeed quizzes for Which Character from Grey’s Anatomy Are You, was several rows of local blogs, niche social media groups, old news reports, and PDF access links. Morgan scrolled past them all to get to an access link to an article from the library. There was the same picture, Amanda Wallace and a few others. The caption read, Cromwell was mentored in his early years by the local Ghost Watchers Society. Pictured, left to right… The article was about a man named Ernie Cromwell. He was arrested, several times, for vandalism, arson, and public disturbance. He claimed he needed to in order to make the ghosts go away. He also escalated to a much more deadly life of crime after this, around the period Roy ought to have been town. That’s why she’d been looking in the first place. “Hey, Cece?” She asked. “You wouldn’t happen to know if any of these people are alive, do you?”

“I hope you know that prefacing with that only makes me want to judge you that much more.” Cece perked up immediately, if she wasn’t interested in studying Morgan’s open tabs before, she was definitely interested now. Fortunately, it was so much better than what Cece had predicted. “Oh my god. This might be more embarrassing than if you just had like straight up porn in your search history. Which for the record, I’m in full support of.” Cece added in, finger gunning and winking in Morgan’s direction. “Please tell me you’re an Izzie too.” Cece tried focusing again once Morgan asked her a question about recognizing anyone. She scanned the page but shrugged after a long moment, “I wish I could be more useful. But most of my magic knowledge was before I got to town. I’ve been about as low key as I can manage since I’ve been to town.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “I appreciate the sex positivity, and so does my girlfriend. And, you know, hopefully she appreciates the spider web themed set I ended up buying. And I’ve taken way too many and no matter what I do, I’m solid 50% Izzie or Meredith. My dark and twisty ways defy simple categories.” She wiggled her brow, mouth curling into a grin, and turned back to the picture. “I swear I’ve seen these faces somewhere. And the names. You don’t remember any from the paper or…” Morgan took out her phone, scrolling furiously. “Oh. Mother of Earth! Oh, this is so weird!” She showed Cece an event page on the UMWC social media page. Two people stood next to a handmade poster advertising GhostWatch Parties. Ostensibly, it was a horror film club. But the names of the two faculty shown were Amanda Wallace and Leigh Cromwell. There was no accounting for coincidence, but it seemed pretty likely that there was a connection to Ernie. “They’re meeting tonight. We have to go, right? Scope things out, set up a time to talk better and see what they can offer, or ask if they have any exorcist finding tips! We’re going, right?”

“Anything for you, as usual.” Cece might not be Deirdre’s biggest fan, but she still wished for a killer sex life for the two. “You know? I can see it, honestly. I support it. Among the characters you could get, I think those are two of the better ones.” Morgan seemed sure that the faces would be familiar, so Cece did her best to study them again, but just ended up shrugging. “You think I read the paper?” She asked the woman curiously. Not a moment later and Morgan was poking the screen and then changing pages to find a social media page. From the college. Cece gasped overdramatically, “Right under your nose this whole time? Also, do you think this horror movie club accepts members that don’t go to the college? Actually never mind that’s not important right now.” Cece jumped up and found her bag, moving towards the coat closet to slip her jacket on. “Well obviously we have to go. What other choice do we have? Plus I need to find out if this club is even worth my time. Which is obviously like a side objective. Priority is the ghost thing for sure. Let’s go!”

The GhostWatchers of White Crest met at Professor Wallace’s ivy covered town house near campus. The gathering was small; only three cars littered the street beyond the driveway. Morgan parked them at the end of the street, positioned to make a quick and easy getaway. The bue-white light of a television illuminated one of the back rooms, bright enough to illuminate parts of the yard as Morgan approached. She knocked on the door gently, but found it already open. Inside was exactly what you would expect from a liberal arts professor. Stacks of papers, catalogues for bamboo kitchenware, and books bursting with post-it’s in every room. Morgan wrinkled her nose at the normalcy of it all. At least she kept a few decorative skull paperweights in the great room and kept the foyer clean.

“How do you think we should play this?” She asked in a whisper, lingering in the front hall, one eye on the back den where the movie, The Innocents, was still going on. “Is it rude if we snoop around first? Should we split up?” Somewhere, she thought, there had to be a private library.

“Wow this place is boring.” Cece yawned as the two slid in through the open door and studied the office that they found themselves in. “You’d think that someone obsessed with exorcisms might have a bit more personality.” She pushed aside a self help book lying on the desk and took a glance at her desk calendar, “She has scheduled times for lunch.” As if that was the most boring thing on the planet.

Either this woman was the worst occultist she had ever seen, or all of her more interesting things were hidden away somewhere. “It’s totally rude, but technically speaking she’s the one that left the door open. She should be more careful about her belongings. So let’s snoop.” Cece wasted no time moving to dig through her other belongings. Given how nonchalant the rest of the room was, Cece wasn’t convinced they were going to find anything too bizarre or helpful just sitting out in the open.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? They hired me because the fun department was empty,” Morgan teased. She watched her feet carefully as she tiptoed onto the plush carpet with her muddy leather oxfords. She hadn’t planned on playing hide and seek in some dusty mini-mansion when she’d left the house, so she was left cringing at every squeak the leather made on the floor and hoping against hope that everyone in the den was too engrossed in the movie to notice.

As luck would have it, the library was one room off from the den. Morgan pointed at it, giving Cece a look of, I don’t know if I got this. One foot, then the other. Could Cece get in there first.

In the den, someone yawned and got up, murmuring about refills. Morgan dropped to the floor, panic in her eyes. Was this the worst idea ever?

The library had to have something useful. If it was just filled with normal literature and more self help books, Cece was going to lose her mind. At least Morgan seemed pretty into the whole espionage thing, tiptoeing around the place and slipping through the door into the library as silently as a mouse. That swiftness and suave attitude seemed to dissipate when movement could be heard from farther in, someone getting up to get a refill. Morgan dropped immediately and Cece remained in the doorway, unsure what the best thing to do in this scenario was. Would the person asking even come this way? Cece crept back a few steps, peaking around to get just a moment’s glance of someone walking towards them. They would definitely see Morgan if something wasn’t done. Would these people be more interested in calling the cops or offing anyone in their way? Cece couldn’t be sure enough, so she figured her only option was to be a distraction of some sort. Back in the office, Cece found a paper weight on the desk and pushed it aside, sliding it off the desk with a loud crack against the floor. That ought to do some distracting.

Morgan heard the paperweight fall before she realized what Cece was doing. Her head whipped around, question marks sprouting all over her face. But whoever was heading her way turned the other direction to see the commotion, and Morgan was able to take her chance. Hopefully Cece wouldn’t be so far behind.

The library was the same as the rest of the house, expected to the point of comical. There were shelves of matching leatherbound British novels, another set of American ones, a whole row of paperbacks and theory that were almost certainly just for posturing, and… who lived like this? Who actually worked here? This was a magazine-style library. Which meant-- “Fuck.” Morgan covered her mouth and flinched. Too loud. Right.

She started peeking behind books, looking for hidden volumes, then the large desk centered at the back of the room. No one really had secret compartment doors, at least not here, the house was too small but-- Morgan kicked back the rug that covered the floor. Cut into the pale hardwood was a heavy door, older and darker, with a black handle that looked to be iron. She peeked her head out, searching for Cece to get her over here, quickly, before anyone realized how reckless they were being in a stranger’s house.

The door was well-oiled and rose silently at Morgan’s tug, and inside-- “Yes!” Beams of light from the other room flashed on. The shadows in the library vanished. It was time to hurry.

Cece ducked behind the desk to avoid whoever was coming towards her. She had successfully distracted the man from discovering Morgan but hadn’t quite thought through the fact that the man would now be coming towards the source of the noise that Cece had caused. Cece began rifling through her purse quickly, pulling a bin of powder free and cupping some into the palm of her hand. Once the footsteps finally became close enough, Cece popped up from behind the counter. “Hi there.”

The man jumped before settling on a confused expression, “Who are you?” He asked, more curious than angry. Probably unsure if Cece was supposed to be there in the first place. “Uh-” Cece began, trying for a long moment to think of an excuse for too long before finally giving up, “I can’t think of a good excuse” She shrugged before pulling her hand up and opening her palm, blowing and sending the powder directly into his face. He stumbled backwards and Cece jumped forward, grabbing onto his shirt and helping direct his fall into the chair by the desk. She patted him softly. Better to get some rest right there.

She slipped across the floor until she found Morgan and then crawled over to her, “For the record I didn’t sign up for this” Cece whispered at her, eyeing the new door that she had discovered. Before hearing more voices. “Welp, after you!”

Morgan’s muscles were already clenched with confusion and unspoken questions. “Sign up for what?” She hissed. “You said we should snoop! Nothing bad has happened, right? And look at all the spooky books down there!” She shined the flashlight on her phone down the ladder, showing tables full of messy, half open books, arcane circles etched on leather, and iron chimes dangling from the ceiling. “Oh, yes, this is the jackpot.”

“Is it now?” A voice called behind them.

Morgan barely suppressed a squeal as Amanda Wallace filled in the doorway. Her straw-white hair seemed to puff up out of sheer rage. “I don’t remember receiving your RSVP, Professor Beck,” she said stiffly. “May I ask what you are doing in my library, opening my trap door?” A smaller, slightly younger head popped up over Amanda’s shoulder and murmured that she’d see the students out. Leigh Cromwell, probably. Guess they weren’t too late for the party after all.

“Hey, Amanda--!” Morgan drew out the words longer, as if a few more syllables in Amanda would help smooth things over, or give her a better idea about what to do next.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me,” Amanda snapped, bristling with a bitter frown. Downstairs, now.” She pointed into the dimly lit trapdoor room, and her look did not suggest that she was entertaining counterarguments at the moment.

“Ummm” Cece considered what may or may not be considered to be bad in Morgan’s mind. And depending on that, whether or not she wanted to share that with Morgan. Putting a man to sleep was hardly that bad, right? She didn’t hurt the man. He would wake up and at worst his memory would be a bit foggy and maybe have some nausea. Nothing that would last more than a week. “Define bad.”

Morgan was right, this was a jackpot. The space was different from the rest of the house. It didn’t look like the end result of an HGTV makeover, for starters. It wasn’t basic or expected. This room was hidden away and it was used. This woman that the two were spying on definitely used this room.

Speaking of the woman they were spying on. Apparently they had been discovered. Cece awkwardly watched the exchange. Apparently the two were super close work colleagues. “If there was no RSVP, does that mean she wasn’t supposed to bring a plus one?” Cece grinned slightly, completely ignored by the woman and instead following behind Morgan as the two were led away from the space they had just found.

Morgan backed down into the room, feeling, all of a sudden, that she should have told more people where she was going. Of course, she’d told Deirdre they had a lead, but if she were to drop a pin right now, would Deirdre know what to do with it? Remmy might, but the part where she had to explain what she was doing here might not lead to the best of conversations. But, fortunately, there weren’t any high tech keypads standing in their way of getting out. Just one seriously perturbed old woman.

Morgan made her way over to where the stacks of books were the largest and the shelves were packed to bursting. She looked for sigils, icons, anything recognizable. No one ever labeled ‘find harm here,’ but there were unavoidable markers if you knew how to look for them.

“I should report you to the police, for trespassing,” Amanda snapped. “And I could do much worse. But I would like to know first, Professor Beck, what you are doing in my trapdoor of all things. Do you have no respect for others?”

“On the contrary--” Morgan said carefully, flashing Cece big ‘what do we do?’ eyes, “I have the utmost respect for you and your interests.” She backed away until she could back no further. “The interests you keep a secret, especially. I think I might have something that’s of interest to your attention. A ghost something that is, let’s say, too good for mercy.” She reached out for one of the tomes, a leatherbound journal, by the look of it. Not as old as it was pretending to be, and bursting with pasted-in clips and notes.

“Not so fast.” She took out a little pearl handled pistol, gold and shiny, like something out of Agatha Christie. She cocked the safety with a slow, deliberate click. “That’s sensitive material, Professor. Access has to be earned. Tell me the truth, do what I say, and maybe we’ll see about it.”

The two hadn’t found themselves in an ideal situation, Cece was willing to admit that much. The woman that had discovered them hardly seemed especially dangerous. She was a college professor, taller than Cece was but that was hardly an impressive feat. The only thing she looked capable of seriously harming was a student’s grade point average. Still, the woman had enough to hide that she kept it hidden beneath the library, and she really didn’t like the intrusion by her colleague.

Morgan attempted to sweet talk her way out of it. Honestly, Morgan came across as such a pleasant person that Cece probably would have laughed it off if she had found the woman trespassing in her own home. Then again, maybe that didn’t count when Morgan had already previously lived with her. When Morgan reached for a book, hopefully one that Morgan deemed important, Amanda acted with an elevated decree of hostility. Looked like a bingo to Cece. The woman pulled out a small handgun, pointing it at Morgan but still eyeing Cece every now and again. She didn’t show much interest in Cece at all, which may have been more a mistake than anything else. “Your terms and conditions don’t sound all that appealing.” Cece called to her, straightening her back to give herself the appearance of being taller. She wasn’t sure that it worked. “Don’t get me wrong. You have the upper hand here. We’re totally up to no good. But don’t you have a door number three option?”

The woman finally looked Cece over. It had probably been the first time that she had offered her anymore than a passing glance, “I don’t even know who you are. This doesn’t concern you in the slightest.” She turned away from Cece again, but irritation seemed evident. Cece slowly dug into her purse again. She knew she had something else useful in there it was just a matter of rifling around until she found out. Once she did, she popped the lid off and dipped her fingers into it. “I just wanted to give you the option of rethinking your offer. Morgan and I have places to be. Let us go now and we can all enjoy the rest of our nights in peace.”

This time the woman finally turned the gun away from Morgan and towards Cece, at the same time that Cece rose up her hand and grabbed onto the woman’s wrist. “Have you ever heard of curare?” Cece asked the woman, a hint of curiosity in her voice. Though nothing apparent was happening, the woman hadn’t yet pulled the trigger and instead looked silently at Cece. “Some hunting tribes use it to paralyze prey. Normally, it doesn’t have a lot of effect on humans if ingested orally or through the skin.” By the woman’s expression, it was clear the effects had started to take effect now, “But with a bit of alchemy, it can be altered. All of a sudden, it just takes a tiny bit rubbed against the skin to get into the blood system. As Amanda began to fall back, Cece grabbed onto the gun, letting it slip from the woman’s hands as she crashed against the ground. “You should be able to talk still, it might just be a little mumbled. So try to speak up.”

Cece set the gun against the shelf and crossed her arms, “You got any questions for her?” she asked Morgan. Cece wasn’t sure this counted as life or death exactly, but the gun hadn’t been entirely promising. At this rate, Cece knew that she’d have to do something at the end to make sure that Amanda didn’t hold an unfriendly grudge against the two of them. Cece had gone this long, but now in the span of just a few weeks she would be whipping out the memory spell twice. Yikes. “Spare no details, something tells me that Amanda’s memory of the night might end up a bit fuzzy anyways.”

Morgan was scurrying for Cece and wishing zombies had super speed when it happened. She couldn’t let Cece get hurt and didn’t Cece know she was basically bullet-proof? Not one more friend, not one more life she cared about was going down because of-- and then Amanda’s face was going slack and she was sinking to the floor, and Cece was giving a pretty impressive speech of her own. “Holy shit,” Morgan whispered, suddenly feeling a little woozy with shock. Then, as it settled, “You...are so amazing, Cece!” She ran over and gave her a hug, ecstatic with relief. “Okay, so, one of your proteges was arrested for what sounded like some serious supernatural damage, and he said he had to get the ghosts. So I’m thinking you know a lot about exorcisms, maybe harm exorcisms, specifically?”

Amanda made some unintelligible noises that sounded aggravated enough to mean ‘yes’ to Morgan.

“Great! So, where would I find those? Is it here? Or--here? Or--” At the sound more throaty, aggravated groaning, Morgan knew she was right on the money. She hauled out everything from the self she could carry and started looking. “Woah, Nelly, some of these pages are torn from other volumes.” Morgan peered over the desk at Amanda on the floor. “Have you been defacing historical archives? That’s not very polite, you know. I wonder what would happen if I reported some of these original books as damaged and gave your name? That might be a bummer for research funding and future archive access, right?” Satisfied with her fun, she started flipping through, grateful that even though Amanda was a thief, she was at least an organized one. There was a handy table of contents and index between each hodge podge volume, and by some topics there was a reference number that seemed to correspond to a file, probably in the cabinet at the other end of the room.

Amanda made another slurry attempt at speech.

Morgan’s face crinkled. “French Revolution? Did you hear French Revolution?” She gave Cece a look to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood and started checking dates throughout her haul. Sure enough, there was a hefty volume with some emphasis on the 18th century and quite a few notes in French and English as she started flipping through. “Cece, come look at this,” she said. “I think this… I think I found something! What do these ingredients look like to you?”

If Cece had any worries that Morgan might think she had taken things too far, those fears were immediately quelled when Morgan launched into a hug. Cece hugged back, keeping her finger away from any of Morgan’s skin, “I don’t think this would work on zombies, but better not take the chance.” Considering the rest of the abilities that Morgan had now that she was undead, Cece wasn’t convinced it would have paralyzed her the way it had Amanda. If it did, the fast healing probably would have fixed her pretty quickly. But better to avoid the situation regardless. “But that was nothing. Didn’t want her messing up one of our pretty faces.”

Morgan was far better at searching and researching than Cece was. The extent of Cece’s reading had gone into her plans to get away from the coven. Since then, the books she had stolen and brought with her mostly stayed hidden in the floorboards of her closet. Something for a rainy day, if it ever came. For the most part, Cece scanned the shelves as Morgan actually talked to the woman and searched for something that was useful to her.

Cece hadn’t heard French Revolution at first, but hearing Morgan question it made Cece laugh and clap for Morgan’s better hearing skills, “You know I thought I heard bitch contusion but that makes way more sense.” Morgan flipped through a volume and called Cece over to look at something, but the symbols on the page weren’t like anything Cece had worked with before. “Yikes.” Cece started, trying to look for smaller details and anything that did look familiar, “I can pick out a few things. I see some containment symbols. Probably used to keep something trapped. But nothing that I’ve worked with before.”

“Me either,” Morgan admitted, “But that--” she pointed to the word, “Is definitely French for spirit, and some of these ingredients look like they’re obeying sympathetic principles for inflicting pain. I’m gonna need a dictionary or three to figure some of this out, and you know, an expert, but you saw the containment sigil too, right!” She snapped the book shut and held it close to her chest, her eyes shining with relief. “I think this is it, Cece. I think this is--” Morgan was lost for words and only smiled, glowing with gratitude for her friend. “This is the key to everything I’ve been looking for.”

“Well I know a guy if you need a French interpreter.” Cece stated nonchalantly, “Can’t promise he won’t be grumpy about it though.” Cece couldn’t keep an easy grasp on who in town knew who, but it seemed like a safe bet that Morgan and Kaden were acquainted. “Fuck yeah! Former roomies strike again!” Cece called out triumphantly, raising her hand for a high five. Once the two were done celebrating, Cece remembered that they had company. Cece spun around to their host for the night and clapped her hands together, “Amanda. You’ve just been so welcoming tonight, truly. We had a great time. We’re going to wrap up and then I promise it’ll be like we were never even here.” Cece scooted towards her and knelt down towards the woman. “Are we done here Morgan?”

Morgan joined Cece beside her colleague, still light on her feet with victory and beaming with pride in her friend. “We do make pretty good partners in crime if I say so myself,” she said. “And, you know, aside from, hmm---” She reached back over to the desk and took a couple more books. “These. Just for good measure. And fun. Trespassing is rude, Professor Wallace, but pulling guns on your colleagues is far worse.” She nodded at Cece to work her magic. They’d gotten what they came for and then some.

“This probably won’t hurt,” Cece began, pressing her fingers against Amanda’s temple, “Or if it does you won’t remember it. Which is basically the same thing.” Amanda’s eyes were frantic at first, darting back and forth almost definitely trying to will her body to move. But soon they settled, floating shut as Cece dove into her memories to pluck them free. She figured the last half hour or so would do the trick. The woman would be left with a lot of blurry portions on the night, undoubtedly waking up in this room to wonder how she had gotten here. But those were hardly Cece’s concerns. She made sure to go back far enough to when Amanda started suspecting someone was here. Once Cece was done, she left Amanda on the floor and stood up, “She should be waking up soon. She should be able to move shortly after. If you have what we need, we should get out of here.” Cece suggested, heading towards the exit of the room before snapping and swinging back towards her, “Actually, now is probably the best time to mention that there may be another person that conveniently fell asleep in the office. We may want to stop by on our way out and wipe him too. Just to be safe.”

Morgan stopped halfway on the stairs they came down in just to gape at Cece in awe. “Remind me to never underestimate you for the rest of your days. And maybe bring you up on my list of people to call next time I need help with the forces of darkness. You’re a dangerous lady, Cece Bishop…” She gave Cece a chivalrous hand out of the cellar, grinning in the evening light. “But, then again, so am I sometimes.”

#wr cece #wr chatzy #wr cece chatzy #desperate gal pals of white crest #drug manipulation tw #wickedswriting

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