#i fear when this man disappears until tour we will all go through the most severe drought

[dailytomlinson]

Louis at the football match - 14.01

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 4

AN: What a crazy episode! I definitely think this episode was one of the best so far and I cannot wait to see what happens next after that insane ending!

Overall Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: Now in Latvia, you and the boys must find Karli before the Dora take Zemo away (Based on S1 EP4)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,123

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 4, violence, strong language.

Once inside Zemo’s apartment, you started to look through the cupboards. 

Zemo had excused himself to take a bath but you felt starved. 

Even with the limited stock you managed to whip something up for you and Sam. 

“Thank you.” Sam took the bowl from you gratefully. The food Zemo had given you on his private plane wasn’t exactly edible and you were still feeling the affects of the Nagel fail in your body. 

“Well, the Wakandans are here.” Bucky announced as he entered the apartment; having returned from his walk. “They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”

“”Were you followed?” Sam looked up at him. 

“No.” Bucky made his way over to you and Sam by the kitchen island. 

“How can you be so sure?” Zemo pondered. 

“Cause I know when I’m being followed.” Bucky sent an unimpressed glance to the man in the bathrobe. 

You pushed a bowl of pasta towards Bucky but he shook his head and pulled out his phone.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” Zemo stated. 

“Hey, you shut it.” Sam quipped. “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.” 

“You gotta eat.” You whispered to Bucky. 

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo rounded the island so he was closer to you all.

“I’ll eat later.” Bucky mumbled back to you as he furrowed his brow at twitter. 

“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Sam argued with Zemo. 

“Sam.” Bucky had found something. 

“What?” Sam turned his attention to Bucky and away from Zemo. 

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.” Bucky showed you his phone screen so you could read.

“What? What’s the damage?” Sam’s concern grew quickly. 

“Eleven injured, three dead.” You said after skimming over the article. 

“They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.” Bucky added as Sam sighed. 

“She’s getting worse.” Zemo spoke up. “I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?”

“She’s just a kid.” Sam was right. She was only young, she reminded you of you when you first joined the avengers. Desperate to fight for a cause. 

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there.” Zemo disagreed. “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.”

“You’re talking about our friends.” You felt the need to remind Zemo that you were actually apart of the Avengers as you placed your empty bowl in the sink. 

“The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky felt the need to clarify. 

“So, Karli is radicalised, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.” Sam was determined there wasn’t a need for a fight. 

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her.” Zemo explained as he reached for the bowl you had originally offered Bucky. “Or she kills you.” 

You swatted his hand away to which he frowned at. 

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.” Bucky argued his point. 

“Touché.” Zemo picked up a biscuit instead. Holding it on his finger as he spoke. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

“Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” Bucky suggested to you and Sam as he moved over to the couch. 

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asked as he opened the cupboards to look for some food. 

“Yes.” Bucky didn’t hesitate. 

“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam interrupted with a new thought. “So, when I was a kid, my TT passed away.”

“Your TT?” Bucky asked, unsure of what Sam had meant. 

“Yeah, my TT, yeah.” Sam nodded. 

“Who is your TT?” Bucky asked as you sat down beside him. 

“Fine. When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.” Sam proposed. He could be right. 

“Worth a shot.” You proclaimed. 

“Your TT would be proud of you.” Zemo sounded more awkward at the use of the phrase before he pulled out a fancy looking tin. “Turkish delight? Irresistible.”

Sam caught the small sweet that Zemo had thrown. 

“I say Zemo put’s some clothes on and we head over to the refugee camp that Donya was staying. See if anyone knows anything about a funeral or ceremony for her.” You ignored Zemo as he looked down at the sweets. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam stood from his seat at the island and looked over at Zemo. 

Zemo nodded before disappearing into a bedroom to change. 

It didn't take long to get to the camp from Zemo’s apartment. 

“Shame what’s become of this place. When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful.” Zemo seemed saddened by the state of the buildings being used as the camp. 

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs. See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.” Sam told Bucky as he gestured to Zemo. 

“I’ll stay out of your way.” Zemo promised. 

“(Y/n), you look around through there. See if you can... You know.” Sam pointed down through one of the ground floor doors. You nodded and left the men.

Most of the adults fled when you entered the building but you noticed a young girl who looked too busy with what she was doing to notice. She had looked maybe 16 or 17 years old and she was embroidering an old silk scarf. 

“That’s beautiful.” You knelt down beside her but as you spoke, her eyes shot up and widened with shock and fear. 

“T-t-thank you.” She stuttered as her eyes flittered around the room for help. 

“It’s okay. I was just wondering if I could have a look at it.” You smiled softly at the girl as you held your hand out. 

She reluctantly gave it to you. 

“This truly is beautiful. You are very talented. May I buy it from you?” You placed your hand in your pocket and pulled out a note that you had previously stolen from Zemo’s jacket.

“You c-c-can have it.” She whispered as she stood. You rose with her as you folded the scarf to place into your pocket. 

“I insist.” You took her hand gently and cautiously and placed the money in her palm. She smiled but she still was nervous and full of worry. You figured she knew who you were. 

You folded your hands over hers and that’s when you unplugged the cork on your powers. 

You closed your eyes and within seconds all the girls memories flooded into your head. 

You tried not to react as it happened. 

You tried your best to filter through the memories quickly. When you reached the time after the blip, you slowed down. You saw the horrors of them being rejected, being abandoned and then you saw Mama Donya and Karli. 

You focused on Karli. 

You watched Karli smile and laugh with all the children, she’d play and look after them as Donya looked after Karli. 

Closer memories brought what seemed like events that only just happened. Karli visiting with supplies. 

You saw the mourning of Mama Donya from everyone and then you saw the arrangements for the funeral. 

You opened your eyes and let go of the girls hand. She thanked you again and left. She would have never realised what you had seen as the memories are shown to you within a matter of seconds. 

You leant against the table and inhaled deeply. 

You felt weak again. 

You pushed yourself off the table and headed back out to Bucky. 

Zemo was surrounded by a bunch of small children.

“You okay?”Bucky asked. The second you reappeared he immediately noticed a change in you. 

“I’m okay.” You lied. “I spoke to one of the teenagers inside. I looked inside her head. You were right, Sam. They are having a funeral but she only knew that she would be taken to it later this afternoon.” You explained as Sam joined you both. 

“Good work.” Sam wrapped his arm around you and gave you a small squeeze of appreciation. 

They both knew how hard it must've been for you to use your powers after the Nagel incident. 

The toll of touching the dead had knocked you for six in the past and in a matter of forty eight hours you had touched the dead and looked into the memories of a live person. 

You’ll need an energy boost before you can do this again. 

Zemo turned back to you and you all returned to the apartment. 

“Well, I got nothin’. No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Bucky slouched down on the couch in defeat. 

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them.” Sam joined him on the couch. “And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. 

“For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doin’ somethin’.” Sam explained himself. 

“You really think her ends justify her means? Then, she’s no different than him or anybody else we’ve fought.” Bucky pointed over to Zemo. 

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.” Sam argued with Bucky.

“Sam’s right.” You spoke up. “When I looked into that girls head I saw a lot of Karli. She means a lot to those people, she is their light, their Captain America. But she’s just a kid. From what I saw she has a whole lot of love in her heart and I'm not saying that hurting and killing people is right but she sees it as the only way to help her people.” 

Zemo had walked over from the kitchen with a tray as you spoke. 

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky questioned him. 

“The funeral is this afternoon.” Zemo only said what you already knew. 

“We know that. Now you know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.” Bucky demanded. 

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.” Zemo sure knew how to push someone’s buttons. 

Bucky shot up and threw Zemo’s cup against the wall. The crashing of the glass made both you and Sam jump to your feet. 

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky threatened Zemo. 

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” Sam tried to de-elevate the situation. “Let me make a call.”

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offered Bucky as Sam walked away.

“No, you go ahead.” Bucky grumbled, scowling at the Baron. 

“Come on.” You took Bucky’s hand and pulled him away from Zemo. 

You headed into the bathroom and started to fill up the tub with some cold water. 

“Will you get me some ice?” You asked Bucky to which he complied. 

Once the tub was full of ice water, you stripped and climbed inside. 

Bucky had taken a stool and faced the door to give you some privacy. 

“You shouldn’t let him get to you.” You said as you settled into the water. Your body was screaming at you as the ice touched it but you knew it’d give you the wake up call you and your muscles needed. 

“I don’t.” Bucky grimaced. 

“You don’t? Oh, so the shattered cup in the other room was just a scare tactic?” You mused. 

“Yep.” Bucky grumbled. 

“Okay.” You sighed before going under. 

The cold water hit your brain and you immediately sat back up. 

“Feel better?” Bucky had heard the splashing of the water. 

“Yeah.” You admitted, running your hands over your face and hair. “Can I have my towel?”

Bucky kept his back to you as he passed you the towel. 

You wrapped it around you and stepped out. 

“You can look.” You told him.

Bucky turned and his eyes went straight to the bruises that covered your legs and arms. 

“I’m okay, Buck.” You assured him as you watched the cogs turning in his head. 

“I forget you aren’t...” Bucky’s words dropped off as he stepped closer and lightly took your arm, examining the damage. 

“That I’m not a super soldier?” You smirked. “I may bruise but I can hold a lot more than most, Buck.” 

“Doesn’t stop me worrying.” Bucky admitted as he lowered your arm. 

“I know.” You whispered, looking up at the man’s deep blue eyes.

“You better get dressed. You already know what Sam is thinking with us both being gone right now.” Bucky went to go towards the door when you stopped him. 

“I had a dream about Wakanda on the plane ride here.” You confessed. 

Bucky stopped and looked back at you. 

“It was the day you finally beat the Winter Soldier.” You told him. 

*Flashback*

“These are incredible, Shuri.”  You smiled widely as you threw the new high tech Vibranium knives that Shuri had made for you. 

“I know. I know.” Shuri was well aware of her awesome brain. 

Shuri pressed the combat button on the wall which simulated attackers for intense weapon training. 

You inhaled as you closed your eyes. 

A footstep gave away your first attacker. You threw the knives to the holograms and the attackers were down. You ducked and dodged and jumped around the room as you practised with the knives. 

Shuri cheered you when you finished. You smiled through your heavy breaths and Shuri jogged towards you to give you a fist bump. 

“You are something else, my friend.” Shuri praised you. 

The doors opening behind you made both you and Shuri turn to see who had entered. 

It was Bucky. 

He rushed towards you with a bright smile. His lips seemed to quiver and his eyes were glassy. Something had happened. 

It had happened.

He embraced you tightly and you returned it. Your fingers gripped onto Bucky’s long hair as he buried his face in your neck. 

You looked back at Ayo (who had followed Bucky) and Shuri and mouthed a ‘Thank you’. 

Ayo bowed her head at you before leaving the hall. 

Bucky had finally gotten over HYDRA’s programming after all these years of being held prisoner by a few words. 

You and Bucky stayed like that for what felt like hours. The relief from Bucky washed over you and bound him to you until he was ready to part. 

It was an incredible day.

*End of Flashback*

“Maybe you could sense that the Dora’s were close on our tails.” Bucky suggested. 

“No, we all knew that they’d come for Zemo eventually.” You dismissed the idea. “I think it was after seeing Zemo treat you like him again.” 

Bucky remained silent. 

“I don’t think I ever told you how proud I was of you that day.” You folded your arms over your chest as you leant back on the tub.

“You didn't need to.” Bucky assured you. “I already knew.” 

You watched Bucky leave the bathroom so you could change. 

When you had returned to the main space again it was just about time to head out again. 

You felt a little nervous as you didn’t really want a fight with Karli since you weren’t 100% but you figured you had felt a hell of a lot worse before.

As you left the apartment, a voice and face you didn’t particularly wanna see called out. 

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” John Walker and his little side kick were walking down some stairs towards you. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called back. 

“Come on. You think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Lemar, Walker’s partner, scoffed. 

“No more keeping us in the dark. You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” Walker pointed out Zemo. 

“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky corrected Walker.  

“This better be an unbelievable explana––”

“––Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Sam interrupted Walker before things could get heated in front of civilians.

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo kept walking as the others stopped. 

“Well, where?” Walker asked, stopping Zemo by stepping in his way. 

“All we know is it’s a memorial. So, we’re gonna intercept her there.” Sam informed them.

“That means civilians. High risk of casualties.” Lemar relaid to his partner as you continued to walk.

“All right, good, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.” Walker started to talk through his plan when Sam stopped him. 

“No, I wanna talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.” Walker argued with Sam. 

“Look, the person closest to her died, she’s vulnerable. Now is the best time to reason with her.” Sam was trying to defend his reasoning but Walker wasn’t having it. 

“What? No. Wait, no! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay?” Walker ran up ahead to stop everyone again. “I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot that she blew up a building with people still in it.” 

“Sam, you walk in there cold, she could kill you, man.”Lemar tried backing up his partner. 

“If I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die.” Sam handed over the other scenario. 

“You’ll let him do this?” Walker looked between you and Bucky. “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”

“He’s dealt with worse.” Bucky told him flatly. “And he’s not my partner.”

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is in my wheelhouse.” Sam walked past you and Bucky to face Walker.

“I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea.” Walker still wasn't on board. 

“Wait, John.” Lemar stopped Walker.  “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.”  

“Thank god Battle-scar here has some sense.” You declared. 

“It’s Battle Star actually.”Lemar smiled at you but you ignored him. 

“We’ll deal with you later.” Walker told Zemo as he caved in.

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo lead you towards the young girl he had spoken to earlier that day. 

“Hello, my friend. This is for your family. Can you show us the way?” Zemo handed her some money and the girl beckoned for you all to follow.  

“What the hell?” Walker seemed a little confused by Zemo’s ‘associate’ being 12.

The girl lead you to the building where the funeral was being held and you all waited for a signal. 

“Karli’s in there.” Zemo announced as the girl ran off. 

Sam went in whilst Walker cuffed Zemo. 

“You got 10 minutes. Then we are doing things my way.” Walker told Sam before he left. 

“Aggressive.” Zemo mumbled after being handcuffed. “But I get it.”

You rolled your eyes subtly at both Walker and Zemo. 

You took up a position by the door with Bucky. 

You watched Walker sit down, his grip on the shield was tight as he slowly huffed in and out. 

You frowned as you studied the man. Your eyes glanced over to Zemo who was also watching Walker. 

You shared a look before you let your eyes fall back down to your feet.  

“Uh-uh. No, no, no. This is a bad idea.” Walker started to pace as he let his impatience get the best of him. 

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky sighed unimpressed by the young solder. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronise me.” Walker glared back at Bucky. 

“Sam knows what he’s doing.” You backed Bucky up. 

You all watched Walker stop as he thought. His heavy breathes causing his chest to rise up and down quickly. 

“I’m goin’ in.” Walker didn’t want to listen anymore. He stormed towards the door but both you and Bucky stepped in his way.

“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” Walker didn’t even look at you as he squared up to Bucky. 

That really bothered you.

You took hold of the man’s upper arm and yanked him to look at you. 

“You may be Captain America right now but we don’t follow you. We said we’d give him 10 minutes. So, he’s getting 10 minutes.” You glowered at the man. 

“Your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” Walker leant towards you, trying to be intimidating but it wasn’t working. 

“Just wait.” You looked the man in the eye with a subtle threat in your stare. His jaw clenched as he tugged his arm away from you. 

Walker went back to look at the clock again. 

After a couple more minutes, he tried once more. 

“Time’s up! Our turn.” Walker didn’t hesitate to push past you as he charged ahead. 

Bucky kept his tongue in his cheek as he watched it happen. 

You and Bucky stayed behind Walker and his partner as they marched ahead.

“Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.” Walker announced as he entered the room. 

“This is what that was?” Betrayal flashed across Karli’s face as she looked at Sam. 

“No, wait––” Sam didn’t have a chance now that Walker had intervened.

“––Tricking me until help came?” Karli started to back away. 

“We had enough time to talk.” Walker exclaimed as he headed straight for Karli. 

“Nazi! “ Karli wasn't going the easy way. She hit Walker back and he went straight into a table. 

Lemar tried to keep you and Bucky back but you had easily managed to get round him to chase after Karli. 

Bucky being what he was managed to get ahead of you but you were close on their trail. 

Sam had found his own way but ultimately you all lost Karli. 

“I lost her.” Bucky sighed.

“This place is a maze.” Sam looked around at the several doorways with a frown. 

The sound of gunshots is what caught your attention next. 

“Come on.” You rushed through the building trying to get to the source. 

You didn’t manage to get there before Walker did. 

Zemo was unconscious on the floor and vials of the serum were smashed around the concrete floor. 

“What happened?” You asked as you looked down at the mess. 

“He was shooting at Karli. I stopped him but she got away.” Walker lifted his shield a little to symbol how he had stopped Zemo. 

“Let’s get him up.” Sam started down the stairs and you followed. 

Zemo woke up after a little encouragement and some smelling salts. You had decided it was best if you split up on your way back to the apartment. 

You and Sam were going to stay with Zemo and see if you can dig up anything on socials and the computer and Bucky was going to do a round and see if she had holed up anywhere familiar. 

Sam sat at his computer, he was contacting Sharon whilst you stood with your phone searching Twitter to see if any Flag Smashers appearances or Karli were popping up in recent tweets. 

Zemo laid down on the couch with a wet towel and a strong glass of scotch. 

“You got anything?” Sam asked you. 

“Nothing. I don’t think we’ll find her this time if she doesn’t want us too.” You put your phone down in defeat. It wasn't usual for people to give her Karli’s location anyway. 

“I think you’re right.” Sam hated to agree but this was the first time you had come close to actually talking Karli down and it failed. 

“And now with the serum’s gone. Who knows what her next move will be.” You knew that Karli didn’t have the option to create more super soldiers now and that gives her a disadvantage. The idea of an army is gone now and she would only have her current foot soldiers to help her. 

Zemo moved for the first time in ten minutes as he lifted his cold compress. 

“Were you ever offered it?" He asked aloud. 

“What?” Sam furrowed his brow at the man. 

“The serum.” Zemo replied. 

“No.” Sam smirked at the idea. 

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?” Zemo inquired. 

“No.” Sam answered instantly, his smile dropping. 

“No hesitation. That’s impressive.” Zemo nodded before removing his towel. “Sam. (Y/n). You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst real people. Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how gods talk?” Sam queried. “And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” There was a silence from Zemo. “Blood isn’t always the solution.” 

Before the conversation could continue, the door opened and Bucky strode inside.

“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky stated as he removed his jacket. 

“You don’t say.” Sam huffed with amusement. It was clear as day that Walker was at his wits end with the pressure on him.

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.” Bucky poured himself a glass of whiskey. You rolled your eyes at his statement. 

“Can’t argue with that.” Sam retorted. 

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky was back on this topic again. 

“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam rose to his feet to face Bucky.

“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” Bucky sipped on his drink just as the doors flew open. 

All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Walker commanded, his face red and his ears steaming. 

“Hey, slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’ll need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.” Sam approached Walker to try and pump his breaks. 

“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, Sam, huh?” Walker chuckled softly as Sam remained silent. “Yeah. Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head at the man’s antics. 

Walker put down the shield but the only thing flying next was a spear that struck the pillar by Walker’s head. 

It was the Dora Milaje. 

They had come for Zemo. 

From your time in Wakanda you understood the language as Ayo spoke to Bucky. 

“Even if he is a means to an end. Your time is up.” Ayo reverted back to English. “Release him to us now.” 

Walker introduced himself to Ayo, not that she cared for him.

“Well let’s, uh, put the pointy sticks down and we can talk this through, huh?” Walker suggested, only to be met, yet again, by silence from the Dora’s.

“Hey, John, take it easy. You might wanna fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.” Sam tried to warn him but he wasn’t backing down. 

“They don’t have jurisdiction here––”

“––The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Ayo cut Walker short. 

“Okay.” John chuckled lightly. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Walker made the mistake of putting his hand on Ayo’s shoulder. 

Ayo responded with an attack. 

The surrounding Dora’s fell into defence positions as Ayo and Walker fought.  Lemar bounced into action, trying to help his partner out but it only warranted in more fighting. Or more asses getting kicked by the Dora Milaje. 

“We should do something.” Sam said as you, him and Bucky stood together watching. 

“Looking strong, John.” Bucky called out. 

“Bucky!” You tried not to laugh as you scolded the man. 

“Guys...” Sam nodded to Ayo about to strike John with her spear which made Bucky reluctantly intervene. 

“Ayo, let’s talk about this.” Bucky only landed himself directly in the mess. 

You realised how serious this was as Ayo didn’t hold back and went ahead to help Bucky. Sam went over to help Lemar but was met by more Dora's.

You grunted as one of the women attacked you. You had almost forgotten just how incredible they were at combat. Almost. 

You were backed against a wall with the spear to your chest when the room fell silent. 

You looked over at Bucky to see his arm was on the floor. 

You wanted to move towards him but you were stuck until orders were given to release you. 

“He is gone. Leave it.” Ayo had opened the bathroom doors to reveal the manhole had been opened. Zemo had escaped. 

You were trying to slow your breathing when finally the Dora’s fell back. 

She retracted her spear and left with Ayo and the others. 

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked Bucky as he pushed himself off the floor. 

Bucky reattached his arm. He groaned as he swung it round to adjust it. 

“No.” He said but the shock on his face from before had already given away that answer. 

You looked past Bucky to where Walker was still on the floor. 

“You all right, man?” Lemar offered his hand to help him up. 

“They weren’t even Super Soldiers.” You heard Walker mutter. 

“Come on.” Lemar tugged him to his feet. 

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.” Sam walked over to the bathroom and stared at the hole. 

“I can.” Bucky wasn’t really that surprised and neither were you truthfully. 

“Come on.” You beckoned the boys out of the apartment so you could talk. 

You got down to the streets and away from Walker before you spoke again. 

“Walker isn’t stable. He’s on the brink of cracking.” You kept your voice low as you spoke to the boys. 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. 

“We may not like him but he’s not stupid. He knows that he can’t be Steve, do the things Steve did and it’s killing him. He's so obviously trying to win this fight by himself and it’s going to drive him insane if he isn’t the one to beat Karli.” 

“But he can’t beat Karli. You saw her kick him across the room like he was a cardboard box.” Sam reminded you of what happened earlier. 

“We have to get to Karli before he does because he’s either gonna stop her or kill himself trying.” You weren't worried for the man but worried about what would happen if he finally snapped. 

Suddenly, Sam’s phone started to ring. It was his sister. 

“She said what? Right. Hold on, hold on. I know, I know. Listen, pack an overnight bag and take the boys...” Sam sounded worried. 

“What happened?” Bucky asked. 

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.” Sam told you both. “Okay. Go somewhere safe. Only pay cash. All right? Tell me when you arrive. I know. Look, I love you. I’ll never let anything happen to you and the boys. Okay. Bye.” He hung up and then immediately texted an unknown number. 

“What does she want?” You knew Karli was desperate but threatening kids was a different story.

“Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number.” Sam’s phone buzzed with a new text. “She said come alone.”

“We’re coming with you.” Bucky wasn’t going to take no for an answer. 

“Alright but keep your distance.” Sam didn’t bother to fight you on it. “We better suit up.” 

You suited up by adding a few more weapons to your body. You placed your favourite thigh holsters on that held your Vibranium knives out on display. 

Sam got his wings and soon you were at the location. 

“Karli!” Sam bellowed as you entered the building. 

Karli leant over a balcony to make herself seen. You remained on the ground floor but looked up at the girl. Bucky followed Sam. 

“You called my sister? That’s how we’re gonna play this?” Sam was upset and understandably so. 

“Sam, I would never hurt her. I just wanted to understand you better.” Karli confessed.“I see you, um, didn’t come alone.”Karli peered down at you then up at Bucky. 

“You have to end this now.” Sam told her. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re a tool in the regimes I’m looking to destroy. You’re not hiding behind a shield. If I were to kill you, it’d be meaningless. I was gonna ask you to join me. Or do the world a favour and let me go.” Karli spoke pretty boldly for someone who seemed to be alone. Super Soldier or not. 

“Hey, Sam, new Cap is moving, looks like he’s found them, or maybe they found him.” Sharon’s voice came through on Sam’s intercom. 

“It’s Walker.” Sam looked down at you and then Bucky. 

Karli jumped from the balcony at the realisation the jig was up but Bucky was quick to jump too. 

Karli kicked Bucky back but you managed to weaken Karli as you flipped over and kicked her in the jaw. 

Sam put her down momentarily as he flew down and kicked her also. 

“I’ll send you the location. Go!” Sam ordered both you and Bucky before he took off. 

You knew Bucky would be fast enough to run there but you didn’t have that luxury. 

You crossed the street to a parked motorbike and opened up it’s wiring. Just as you managed to get it running, Sam’s coordinates came through. 

You docked your phone and set off. 

You dodged through the narrow streets and traffic to arrive at another large building. Karli must have a favour for buildings you could get lost in. 

You drove through the doors and skidded to a stop. 

Bucky had gotten there before you. You could hear his grunts from a flight or two up. 

You raced up them only to be met by a super soldier fighting Bucky. 

You sent a knife forward, it embedded itself into the man’s soldier, he cried out which gave Bucky some time to throw him down the stairs. 

You tucked up, over the tumbling body, holding onto the railing and the wall. 

Bucky jumped over the rails and with one final blow knocked the soldier unconscious. 

“Stay there.” Bucky told him before climbing back up to you. He thanked you for the help, handing you back the knife that had been in the man’s shoulder. 

You then both went ahead to find Sam and Walker. 

They were fighting more super soldiers a floor up. 

You didn’t hesitate to go in for the attack.

You pulled a knife and threw it to Bucky for help; he caught it midair. 

You screamed with frustration as the soldier you were fighting, pulled your arm behind you and slammed you into the pillar. You managed to swivel around, taking out the soldiers legs as you freed your arm. 

You threw a knife into both his biceps. You only intended to injure, not kill, them anyway. 

He groaned as he pulled them and tried to use them against you. 

All at once, the fighting stopped when you all witnessed Karli kick Lemar into one of the concrete pillars. 

Lemar’s body slumped down with blood painted across his lips. 

John broke free from his attacker and slowly made his way over to Lemar. 

From the sight of the body, you already knew he wasn’t walking out of there. 

Walker desperately tried to wake him up. 

That’s when Karli took her chance to flee. 

You and the boys took off after her but lost her again pretty quickly. 

When you rounded the building, you saw a crowd gathering. 

What you saw next made you feel psychically sick. 

John Walker stood above Karli’s right hand man, blood splattered up Steve’s shield and across his uniform. 

He had killed the man in front of all these civilians. He had killed a man as Captain America. 

(PART 5 HERE)

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[booksweet]

Could I request a Gojo fic/drabble/whatever based around Halsey’s song Colors?? I feel like it fits Gojo perfectly. Angsty. Fluffy. Whatever you’re feeling.

Hollow Purple

starring: sorcerer!Gojo x human!reader

synopsis: there was happiness when blue and red met, but they didn't know grey would claim their place in between them.

contents/warnings: ANGST, SFW, slightly mention of blood, trauma, violence (if I miss something, please warn me), both reader and Gojo are 18+

WC: + 2k

A/N: hello, anon! I swear to god I tried to make it a fluff, but I coulnd't, it screamed angst on my mind. This request reminded me I'm into writing pain stuff like my heart was broken a thousand times, and I wish I could say sorry for the pain, but I'm NOT hahaha no regrets. Enjoy!

tags @noritoshiikamo

main navi | masterlist

You were gone. You were gone and destroyed every piece of him, every inch of him were carved by you.

He knew by the first time he saw you that you'd have so much power over him, you could end him without even using words.

And that's what happened.

You with your beautiful eyes, and beautiful red dress. You broke him.

His blue eyes now devoid of bright, of color.

But he knew it was his fault.

His fault to insist bringing you to his world while you should've had stayed in yours, oblivion to everything related to jujutsu. Yet, he couldn't regret it. He would never regret meeting you, and being with you this whole time until you got apart.

There he was, above the skies, searching for cursed spirits who ran away from him, their fear reasoned since he was the strongest above all. He couldn't care less about their feelings. Within the curtain, without non-jujutsu sorceres, he just wanted to finish that spirits as fast as he could to call his day off and eat some sweets.

"Guess I'll have to go a little rough now, uh?" With a movement of his hands, he felt his cursed energy shaking inside him like an ocean of power, such powers had he overwhelmed by years until he could plenty control them.

But suddenly he felt another presence, aside cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers, he felt a human presence. With a frown of his browns, he took off his blindfolds, revealing beautiful blue eyes, in order to find out who or what was that feeling. His flowing energy all at once disrupted.

And then, he found you. He found you walking calmly through the lonely streets wearing a red dress he could never forget. "What an interesting..." He muttered checking out if you were truly human, six-eyes working hard to find it and, when he was certainly of it, his interest on you just grew even harder.

You were about to cross an alley between two buildings and he took the chance to teleport there by connecting his hands. You took a few steps and stopped to admire some store's window and he couldn't help but wonder how you were still there in that chaotic place so relaxed and withou fear.

"Who are you?" He came closer to you and you stepped back with surprise, staring at that tall white-haired man with suspicious eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"Who's wanna know?" Your hands ready to punch his face if he dared to try something on you. His growing interest reached alarming levels as his heart bumped hard on his chest.

"I'm Gojo Satoru," He said without approaching you, and with a bow, he added. "The strongest above all. At your service."

"The strongest?" You said while lifting your chin up to him in defiance. "Oddly of you to say that, isn't?"

And he at that right moment, he knew he was lost. He was lost to you.

- x -

He was supposed to protect you, he was supposed to take care of you ever since you met. Instead, he brought you danger, he brought you pain, he brought you despair.

What's the point of being blessed with six-eyes if he couldn't protect the only one he cared the most?

Not a bless, but a curse. A sin held upon his shoulders. A burden so heavy he couldn't breath.

A sin so harmful that had stained you. Your naive soul. Innocent. Heavenly.

And he missed you. He missed your red lips. You red clothes. He missed how your smile seemed to warm him just like the red sunset you two watched once. His blue eyes missed staring at your for hours, drowning in yours.

Blue and red.

Red and blue.

Two parts independent from each other, yet they floated against them, their souls wiling to be one.

Convergence and divergence.

Divergence and convergence.

And when both opposites reunite...

The second time you met, Gojo wasn't on a mission and you weren't in danger at all. You had an average day and stopped by a coffee shop to drink some hot coffee, eat your favorite sweet and maybe read your favorite book just to get away from craziness of your life, you wanted to relax. You were at your favorite table, alone, and the costumers were passing around you and you weren't giving them attention when the doorbell left out a "ring!".

He couldn't help but desire some sweets, it was his nature as sweet-eater. He knew he would bring attention to him, he was tall, handsome as hell and was wearing a blindfold, of course everyone would've looked at him.

But you hadn't looked at him. You didn't even take your eyes out of the pages to check what happend at the cafe. Nevertheless, once again you caught his attention and he recognized you from your first meeting. "What do we have here?" He muttered with a glimpse of a smile on the corner of his lips.

He ordered a chocolate cake and signed the waiter to take it to your table. Meanwhile, he moved his long legs on tour way, like you were a force bringing him closer and closer each step. He moved the chair loudly and had his seat in front of you. "Hello, Y/N! Long time no see, ugh?"

Surprised by his suddenly entrance, you put your book down and looked straight at him. That weird man you met months ago, still you felt different about him. "Long time no see, strongest above all" you replied playfully. "What bring your majesty up here?"

— x —

When you third met, it was your first date. That turned into a second, and then a third, a fourth... And suddenly you were about all his life, above your weird friendship. All at once you became the one he needed the most to feel himself.

Yet he chose not to tell you about jujutsu. He chose not to tell you about his powers. About why he couldn't stay a little longer with you at your place. About where he would've been travel out of city for weeks without giving any news if he was okay.

He dissapeared for weeks in a roll. And you worried about him. About his blue eyes. You worried about never going to see him again, even though you didn't figure out what you feared at all.

Once, he came back of one of those long trips, after several weeks of nothing about him, but what he gave you to remind of him — his shirt, a photograph of you two, one of his blindfolds.

And you couldn't help but cry while kissing him. You couldn't help but to say you loved him you never wanted for him to disappear. And he would retrieve, he would say he loved you so hard you had him in your hands. He was yours to be loved, to be destroyed.

The strongest on his knees at a human's mercy.

Had never his eyes sight such a colorful being, such a colorful existence. He was at your mercy, his existence, his entire being was yours to paint, to stain, to rip him apart if you wanted.

And then, when you two lay down together, messy sheets and pillows. Blue and red met once again, but not apart, they were together. That time blue and red turned into a beautiful tone of purple.

— x —

Someday you would find out, he knew it. Yet, he still longed for time to be with you, time to be himself without necessarily being the strongest, the head of his clan, the balance between cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers.

But he knew he had no time, you had no time with him. There wasn't enough time with jujutsu and curses. They would've come for you by anytime.

He masked his worries from you. He always seemed so happy in his nonchalant and playful way. Always trying to annoy you and make you laugh everytime you spent together.

You mocked the "strongest above all" out of him every opportunity you had. And this had him caring about you more and more.

But then it wasn't a joke anymore.

Jujutsu were real.

Cursed spirits were real.

And you were just a human.

Alone.

Blood. Red. Everything is red. Everything is blood. Pain. You were in pain screaming. You couldn't see what hurt you, but that ominous feeling was still there in your place. "What happened? What happened? Who are you? Who are you?" You couldn't help keep muttering it like a prayer, thinking of Gojo who was to come by and see your hurt state.

But Gojo Satoru felt the overflowed cursed energy arisen from your place. His bare eyes naked with worry and, for the first time, fear. And then he broke. Every piece of him.

He found you on the floor, muttering non-sense words — including his name in your dizzy state — blood running over you limbs, torso and head. A cut on your beautiful face. And above you, at the ceiling, that goddamn cursed spirit laughing out loud mocking you. Mocking your pain. Your despair.

He ran out of control. He released this powers untamed, uncontrolled. In a blink of an eye he exorcised that cursed spirit from existence. He was furious, feral. He could bring fire to the world if it means to keep you safe, to keep you alive. "Y/N?" He came closer to you, checking out your pulse as his hand held your wrist. It was so weak his heart almost stopped. "Don't leave me, please. You don't deserve to die."

— x —

When everything fell apart, he took you to Shoko at Jujutsu High nursery. She healed your physical wounds in silence while he stayed by your side. You kept unconscious the process, sometimes mumbling while your expression turned into a painful one.

When you woke up at his place, you said nothing. Nothing came out from your mouth, even though he tried to make you speak. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks. You could hear him say "Love, love, love, please, talk to me" in a desperate broken tone.

Yet you couldn't say a thing.

When purple turned into grey, everything faded away. Everything blurred.

Happiness overpowered by despair and pain. You were broken such as the beautiful thing you two had.

"Y/N, please, please, I'm begging," Once more his voice muffled on your ears. Why they hold such pain? "I'm on my knees, Y/N, please, come back, come back to me."

He told you the truth about him so many times expecting some reaction, something from you. Yet he received anything at all. You were numb to reality, there was nothing he could do about that.

But one day, after weeks and weeks of him trying to call you back, you spoke for the first time. Pale eyes meeting him lifeless. And he felt his world falling apart again. "I want to go" You whispered and he widened his pretty eyes full of tears.

"What, Y/N?"

"I want to leave. I wanto to go away from here. Take me out, take me out, take me out..." You kept saying repeatdly, each time a knife stabbing his heart.

"Y/N, love..." He tried to touch your hair, but you moved away from him.

"No, no," You muttered afraid. "It's your fault. The monsters. The blood. The pain..." You shrunk yourself in your bed, crying. "The nightmares. It's your fault." Your crying getting louder and louder. "I wish I could forget you."

"Y/N, I-I," He struggled his words, afraid and crying. "You know I can protect you, you know I will."

Your voice cold in his ears aside your tears. "No, you can't."

— x —

Blue bright eyes once, but not anymore. Not when the reason they shone for now It's gone. When you've chosen to forget him since your accident.

That was what you asked, to forget. To forget the pain, the blood the nightmares, him...

It was quite easy to manipulate your memories, cursed energy manipulation and then it's done. Not that it means it did not hurt him, but it had to be done.

When light came back to your eyes, Gojo's bright faded away.

When you smiled red, blue was not his color anymore.

When your life was colorful, his was grey and devoid of any color.

Red and blue turned into purple. His heart was craved by yours, when you were together.

Purple danced in front of his eyes as his memories overflowed his mind. Blue eyes crying because of red.

Blue eyes seeing grey because now red is gone forever and blue is alone.

[alj4890]

I got an ask we know Riley gets kidnapped by Anton but what if Anton was in love with her and he didn’t wanna kill her but makes her his. What if Olivia killed Claudus for shooting drake.

I love the way you think, Nonny! I actually would have eaten this up with a spoon if that had happened in canon. To be honest, I really liked Justin in book 2. If he had been a new love interest, I would have done a play through just to see what happens if Riley chose him 🤦🏻 Of course then we find out he is behind all the bombings and such so...oops, LOL. When I first saw your request, I made an aesthetic with just Justin/Anton and Riley in mind. I completely forgot to add a definite OTP of mine, Drake and Olivia, to it. Smh. The story though will definitely include them along with Riley and Justin. I am so tempted to turn this into a series 🙊

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg  @amandablink @neotericthemis  @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms

Masterlist

True Intentions

It had happened when he had not been paying attention. It shouldn't have happened at all. He had one goal. One mission. Nothing had ever come to mean more to him than that. Nothing. No one.

Until Riley.

He knew he shouldn't have spent so much time with her. He shouldn't have helped Maxwell in picking the right dresses for her. He shouldn't have stuck around to see her come out of dressing rooms, an excited smile upon her face, as she twirled around for them to give their opinions.

It had taken all his will power to keep from telling her what he truly thought. Riley's beauty was simply stunning, not because of her outer loveliness, but more that he saw her inner beauty shining through each trial she faced. Her strength amazed him. Her wit brought a smile to his face. Her kindness touched his heart.

It made him begin to long for things he shouldn't. They shouldn't be a part of any dream or plan he had.

And yet...she was beginning to crop up in his thoughts. In his dreams.

In his plans.

He winced as he tried to get comfortable.

His plans hadn't exactly gone as he had hoped. In fact, he should have talked to his men and explained that Riley was not to be a target.

Thank God for Drake. If he hadn't jumped in front of her, she would have been taken from me.

His lips twisted in another painful grimace.

"Are you in pain?"

Justin looked up and tried to smile. "Just a little."

His nurse shook her head. "I told you to buzz before it got too bad." She gently checked his wound.

"I don't want to be a bother." He mumbled.

"You aren't." She patted his hand. "You aren't any trouble at all." Her nose wrinkled. "We had a few nobles cause unnecessary problems when the attack happened."

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Some were knocked down during the chaos and demanded they be admitted."

He chuckled softly. "Sounds like something they would do."

"It's a shame that good people like you were seriously hurt while those spoiled nobles try and take all the attention." She readjusted his covers after administering some more pain medication in his IV. "I don't know why King Liam is so hellbent on bringing them back to court."

"What do you mean?" Justin tried to fight the effects of the pain medicine. "What's he doing?"

"He and Lady Riley are going on some type of tour to some of the major houses to personally invite them to their wedding."

His brow furrowed.

A unity tour. That would work on these small minded individuals. It was a smart move. The public were already Team Riam. Once the royal couple convinced the most powerful houses to come to their wedding, all the other minor lords and ladies would follow suit.

"Well played, Liam." Justin's eyes drooped closed. "Well played."

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

He couldn't believe that they not only convinced Madeleine's entire family, but also somehow got all of Portavira on their side.

"What's the plan?" Claudius asked.

"We need something big to remind everyone that we aren't a one trick pony." Justin told him.

He looked out the window. Leaves were beginning to change with the first hints of autumn in the air.

A hint of a smile appeared as a plan began to form.

"It would be a shame if Cordonia's apple orchard had a bad year, wouldn't it?" He eyed his second in command.

Claudius chuckled. "It really would."

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

Justin watched as every channel showed the devastation of the orchard near Applewood. He couldn't help but smile over Riley making the people love her even more for her righteous anger. Her promises to bring those responsible to justice along with making the orchard bigger than before made him nearly burst with pride.

She had grown into her role more so than he had ever imagined. Gone was the timid young waitress from New York who uttered no comment when reporters surrounded her. She was a confident woman now who could think on her feet.

Justin thought she was more attractive than the first time he had seen her floundering in front of the cameras, in desperate need of a hero. It hadn't been a bother to rush to her side then and put his arm around her. Her wide eyes had lifted to his and he had nearly melted from her beauty.

He still couldn't believe that she forgave Liam for choosing another over her. Granted Madeleine impressed him with how she could manipulate reporters into spinning a story to her advantage, but Riley was so many things that the cold countess was not. She deserved better than what she got.

And he planned on giving it to her.

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

A week after the orchard burning, he turned to see the one rarely far from his thoughts.

"Justin!" Riley rushed over to engulf him in a hug.

"How's my favorite media darling?" He asked.

She leaned back and gave him that smile that was brighter than flash bulbs. "Much better now that I know you're recovering." She playfully glanced about before whispering, "Save me from Madeleine!"

He laughed as he hugged her once more. "I don't know. I've seen her work and can't find fault with it."

Riley pouted. She linked her arm with his as they walked down the hospital hallway. "I prefer your guidance to hers." Her nose wrinkled. "It's weird being told how to act by Liam's former fiancée. I know there wasn't anything between them, but still."

Justin patted her hand. "Tell you what. If Madeleine is unable to do her job or you decide to fire her, then I will gladly step back into my old position." He dug around in his pocket for the earpiece she had used during Liam's engagement tour.

Her smile reappeared. "Old faithful."

"I'm always Just-in-time." He teased.

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

It had been too close. He hadn't expected Riley to go anywhere near Constantine. And there she was, by Liam's side, graciously accepting some necklace from the old man who had destroyed her initial happily ever after.

His heart had nearly stopped as he watched rubble fall around them. Riley had frozen in fear over Liam's safety. It was a nightmare come to life as pieces of the wall and ceiling began to collapse.

At least one good thing had come from this: one king was dead.

It sadly wasn't the king he needed to die.

Justin began to plan how he would comfort Riley once Liam was gone. He wouldn't have to tell her it was he, himself, who orchestrated his death. But he would make certain to enjoy the benefits of it.

His eyes narrowed over another slight problem he had.

He was going to have to kill his own wife too.

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

Lythikos...

It had been almost too easy. Madeleine was already in need of a distraction after hearing Liam gush over how excited he was to marry Riley in a few weeks. Once she requested a fruity cocktail, he knew then that the poison could go undetected taste wise.

The bartender left to go replenish the champagne. Madeleine's irritation over having to wait on a refill was drawing attention.

"Here." He grinned at her. "Allow me to make you another."

Her eyes widened. "Aren't you that press secretary that helped Riley?"

"I am." He began to mix a strong cocktail for her while adding the poison, all right under her nose. "And I must say you are the best I've ever seen."

Madeleine's irritation disappeared over the compliment. "I am, aren't I?"

"Riley's lucky to have someone so knowledgeable in ways of both the court and public like you." He added.

"Yes, she is." Madeleine muttered. "I'll do anything for my country, even if it is a thankless job."

"You should be recognized for your sacrifice." Justin handed her the deadly drink.

"Yes, I should." She took a gulp.

"How is it?" He asked.

"It's the only good thing here." A tipsy grin appeared on her face when she saw Riley. She grasped Justin's hand and pulled him in her wake. "Let's go say, hi."

"Boooooo!" Madeleine giggled when Riley turned around. "It's the ghosts of press secretary past and present."

"The what now?" Riley lips trembled with suppressed laughter as she looked up at Justin for clarification.

"I'm the ghost of press secretary past." He winked at her.

"OoooOooo!" Madeleine swayed where she stood.

"Whoa, there." Riley tried to steady her. "You okay?"

"She's had a little too much." Justin mimed drinking.

"It's a party!" Madeleine slurred. "It's in the worst place ever but it's a party and I'm going to...going to..."

"Enjoy it?" Riley offered.

"Extractly!" Madeleine's brow wrinkled over that not being the right word. "Expactly?"

"Exactly." Justin corrected.

"That."

The crowd quieted around them when Olivia took the stage to offer a final toast of the evening to Liam and Riley's wedding.

"Woo!" Madeleine cheered.

Riley and Justin tried to shush her.

Her giddy smile fell as her rosy cheeks drained of color. "Somefing's not..."

"Madeleine?" Riley lost her grip on her when she swayed violently to the right. "What's--"

Madeleine hit a table, causing the plates to clatter and the vase of blood red roses to fall over.

"I hate this place." She collapsed on the floor.

"Madeleine!" Riley dropped to her knees and tried to bring her to. "Liam! Mara! Come quick!"

Justin stepped back as the two came to see what was wrong. He watched as Olivia made her way through the crowd to find out what the all the fuss was about.

"What's wrong with her?" Riley asked.

"She's been poisoned." Mara whispered.

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

Justin loved seeing the delighted surprise once more on Riley's face when he said he would take over Madeleine's duties for the rest of the tour. It would have been a perfect moment if Liam had not been standing there. He was ashamed to think of his nearly giving himself away when he panicked at the sight of Olivia walking in behind him.

He wished Lucretia would quit trying to push Olivia into going into the family vault. She had a sick sense of humor in wanting her niece to discover she was already married. For some reason, she did not approve of the way her niece depended on her friends for support.

Justin knew the power friends could have. Had he not been trained by his own parents' friends, he wouldn't be the worthy man next in line to the throne. His comradery with his own men inspired their loyalty and willingness to die to make him king.

He needed to distance himself from Lucretia the moment they got out of Lythikos.

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

She was supposed to come alone! Why did she bring Riley? I can't kill her. I need her. I deserve to have a choice in the one I want ruling by my side. The people already adore her, much more so than they admire Olivia. I was supposed to become free of this marriage. Once she and Liam are dead, I'll be able to be king and have--

"Justin?" Riley's eyes were clouded with confusion as she looked first at a picture of him dressed in a royal uniform. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, Riley." His voice cracked on her name.

Justin reached in his pocket and pulled out a revolver.

Lucretia cackled with glee as she told her niece the truth about her marriage.

Justin stood there silently as the woman he loved shook her head in denial.

She's so incredibly sweet to doubt a friend could be the bad guy. I hate that I can't pull her away from all this and simply explain why I should be the ruler of Cordonia. I deserve it. I worked for it. My entire life was made for me to take the crown. She would be able to understand that. Look how far she's come in her own life. Who could imagine a waitress from some dive bar in America would come to be the next queen of a small European nation?

"Do it already!" Lucretia hissed. "Shoot her!"

He couldn't do it. Even as he held the gun steady, pointed directly at the woman he loved's heart, he couldn't shoot Riley.

"Get away from her!" Liam ordered.

Justin spun around to see the king and guards filling up the narrow passageway.

"I thought you said this was secure." Justin snapped at Lucretia.

"It was." She held her hands up in surrender.

Justin watched as she stepped forward, pretending to stumble.

His eyes widened as once again his love was trapped within a collapsing room.

He managed to see her safely end up in Liam's arms before escaping through a hidden passage.

He left Lucretia to the guards. She had served her purpose and was sadly of no use to him any longer. Now he could plan what he truly wanted to happen.

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

Liam and Riley's wedding day...

"I don't care who you kill. Olivia and Riley are to be taken alive." Justin told the small team of men he was sending in. "If you have to wound them to get them here, make certain Riley's is non life threatening.

He ignored the questioning look Claudius sent his way.

"Bring them both to our stronghold." His eyes narrowed. "Do not fail me."

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

Later that night...

"Good work." Justin straightened his jacket. He wanted to look his best when he saw Riley again.

Claudius smirked at him. "Just think of all the men we would still have if you had let me go alone."

Justin chuckled. "True, but at least we are free of our weakest links." He smoothed his hair back. "Now take me to our guests."

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

"I know the real Justin is somewhere in there." Riley leaned as far forward as her bindings allowed. "You helped me gain the love of the people. You know that if you kill me, the people will not readily accept you as king."

He couldn't help but smile. "I know and that is why I don't intend to hurt you."

"Then why kidnap us?" Olivia demanded.

He turned toward her. "If I'm to be king, then I have to take the necessary steps to claim the throne." He motioned for Claudius to come in.

"You're the one who shot Drake!" Olivia shouted, struggling against the ropes biting into her tender skin. "You'll regret that."

"And you tried to kill me!" Riley added, narrowing her eyes.

"That was a mistake." Justin quickly said. "You were never to be harmed."

"Then why all the attempts?" She asked. "Why do you persist in--"

"You weren't supposed to be here, Riley." He knelt down in front of her. "You should have stayed in New York until the time was right"

Her eyebrows drew together. "What are you talking about.

Justin asked Claudius to remain with Olivia while he took Riley somewhere private.

"If you think for one second that I will remain with this man while you take her away go do only God knows what," Olivia's chair creaked at her straining to break free, "then you don't know what a Nevarkis is truly made of!"

Justine rolled his eyes over her rant as he untied Riley from her chair. He kept her ankles and wrists bound together. He swept her into his arms and carried her out.

Olivia's shouts were silenced by the sound of a hard slap.

Riley struggled in Justin's arms. "What did he do to her? OLIVIA?!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Justin, please don't--"

"Nothing's happened to her." He took her into a surprisingly clean, yet drab, sitting room.

Riley was dropped on a chaise lounge. She eyed the door then Justin.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated. He gently cupped her cheek, fingers brushing along her jaw line. "I love you too much to ever harm you."

Riley stilled. She looked up at him. "You what?"

He knelt before her. "I'm in love with you. It didn't hit me until you told me you had accepted Liam's proposal on the train. I didn't plan it, but I refuse to hide my feelings any longer." He smiled at her. "You've proven yourself as the rightful Queen of Cordonia. Once Liam and Olivia are dead, you and I can rule this country as we see fit. We'll--"

Riley shook her head. "Justin," she believed he was deranged and knew she had to handle this carefully, "I'm flattered. Really I am. I mean, we both know I would never have gotten this far without you."

His smile grew at her realizing she owed him for her meteoric rise within the court.

"But if you kill Liam and Olivia, the people will not feel any love or loyalty for you." She tilted her head as she studied him. "Surely you see the problem with this plan."

"People respect power." He explained. "They respect someone who fights for what is rightfully his. Since my birth, I have been meant for something greater. My parents, Olivia's family, even my soldiers realized that I alone am worthy to rule over this country." He focused once more upon her. "And I've seen that you are the one to do so by my side."

Riley shook her head. "Justin, I am honored," her voice cracked on that lie, "to have your love but I can't accept it." Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm in love with Liam."

"Riley, he didn't choose you." Justin argued. "He left you on your own to fight against nobles, the press, even his own father. You deserve so much more than being an afterthought."

Tears slipped down her cheeks once more. "That wasn't what he did. He was trying to protect me. And I--"

He leaned down and kissed her.

She froze at the touch, refusing to participate.

"Once Liam's gone, you will see the truth." Justin promised.

"I won't." Her eyes narrowed. "As long as I live, I'll hate you with everything within me for taking him from me."

"You don't have it in you." He shook his head in amusement. "You've forgiven everyone. Olivia, Penelope, Madeleine, even Constantine. You never hold a grudge."

"You'll be my first." Riley vowed. "Liam is the love of my life. If you ruin my chance to finally be with him, I will never forgive you. As long as there is breath in my body, I will find a way to destroy you."

"You are amazing." He murmured, knowing she was speaking from her heart. He couldn't wait for that devotion to be for himself.

"Anton?"

The two turned to see Claudius in the doorway. "Liam should be here any moment."

Justin nodded and told him he would meet him and the rest of the men downstairs.

He lifted Riley in his arms and placed her back in the cell with Olivia.

His wife had the bruised imprint of Claudius's hand on her alabaster cheek. Blood had dried on her bottom lip. No tears had fallen from the force of the hit. Her left eye was bloodshot as she glared up at him.

"Liv?" Riley choked out. "Are you--"

"I'm fine." Her harsh answer echoed in the chamber. "It will take more than some two bit thug to hurt me." Her eyes did a quick scan to make certain Riley wasn't hurt.

"If you will excuse me, I have to go prepare for Liam's last night on earth." He retied Riley to her chair.

She threw her head back with all her might to connect with his face.

His glasses broke from the force of her strike. Blood poured out his nose as he stumbled away from her.

"Don't ever," his voice dropped to a hiss, "do that again, my love." He gripped her chin and jerked her face up toward his. "You will learn how to behave soon enough."

He slammed the cell door and left them alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Olivia whispered.

"No." Riley bit her bottom lip. "Not yet."

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

"Where is my wife?" Liam demanded.

Justin couldn't help but be impressed. The young king was standing before him, completely outnumbered, yet didn't show the slightest flicker of fear.

He asked the one question that he himself would have asked if Riley was taken from him.

"She is well." Justin replied. "Which is something I can't promise about your own well being."

"I want to see her." Liam bit out. "Now!"

Justin's chuckle was interrupted by a hastily whispered message from Claudius. His head jerked around to search the dim hallway as if doing so would reveal the missing prisoners.

How had they escaped?

"You don't get to make demands here." He snapped at Liam.

"Let Riley and Olivia go." Liam ordered. "And I will take their place." His eyes narrowed. "I know it is a temporary one."

Justin couldn't help but smile. The man was indeed brave to trade his life for Riley and Olivia's.

"No!" Riley screamed out from the stairs.

Chaos broke out as she led the charge to attack the Sons of the Earth. Justin watched as she ran over to protect Liam's back.

The couple were doing their utmost to protect the other from harm.

Their friends were taking his well trained soldiers out one by one. It was embarrassing to see how pitiful his men fought.

Olivia moved into his line of sight. Fury blazed across her delicate features.

"I'm impressed." He told her, unsheathing his sword. "I should have searched you myself."

"Trust me." Olivia circled him. "It will be the last mistake you'll ever make!"

She lunged at him. He easily parried her attack. "I think you've forgotten that it was your parents who gave me the same training you had."

"I think you talk too much!" She twirled about, bringing her daggers up to stop his sword from meeting her shoulder. He grunted from her heel piercing his leg as she pushed off to break his hold.

They continued to try and deliver punishing blows to the other. She was desperate to kill the man who was after her friends and country. He was anxious to be free of their marriage.

He noticed from the corner of his eye Claudius and Drake fighting. His second in command stunned the commoner with an uppercut to his jaw, causing Drake to stumble back into a wall.

Olivia heard the scuffle and followed Justin's line of sight. Her face paled at Claudius moving towards Drake to end him once and for all.

With a flick of her wrists she not only slashed Justin but threw her other dagger at Claudius. It struck true along the side of his neck, cutting into his jugular. He let out a garbled scream as he fell to the floor.

Justin hissed at the deep gash she had made along his ribcage.

Seeing that it was a lost battle, he hopped the banister and began to rush upstairs. He would have to go into hiding once more before orchestrating another attack.

"This ends now!" Riley yelled out at him.

He spun around to see both her and Liam rushing toward him. He raised his sword, determined to put an end to the man who stood between him and the throne. He hesitated when Riley jumped in front of her husband.

"You're not taking him from me!" She raised her battle ax. "Every time you try, I will stop you."

Does Liam know how lucky he is? She waited on him to choose her. Twice! And now she stands here, ready to defend him to the death. How could any man not fall in love with Riley?

His refusal to fight her was his downfall. He was pushed over the banister by the royal couple. While his breath was knocked out, Maxwell and Hana bound his hands together behind his back.

He looked about at his fallen and captured comrades. His attention was drawn toward Olivia and Drake. The pair were covered in blood and bruises, yet they were leaning against each other. Drake had his arm around her while softly speaking. Whatever was said caused Olivia to press even closer to his side. Her arms slipped around his waist. Her eyes were closed tight as she allowed him to hold her.

Justin had suspected something more between the pair. It looked like his coup for the throne had accomplished something for them.

Bastien and the rest of the King's Guards rushed in. After talking to the king and new queen, he collected Justin and hauled him outside.

On the way, Justin met Riley's eyes.

There were so many things he wanted to explain to her. He believed she would have been on board with his plans for the kingdom. Once he had killed Liam and Olivia, he would be the benevolent king the country needed. Gone would be the purpose for pompous nobles. He would have established a council of Cordonia's citizens from all walks of life to advise him. People would be rewarded and honored for their service instead of simply being born to the right parents.

And she would have been his queen, guiding and protecting all she deemed worthy.

"Riley, I..."

"You will never ever hurt those I love again." She hissed.

"Take him away." Liam ordered, keeping his arms locked around his wife. "He will be dealt with in the morning."

Justin knew then that it was pointless to try and explain. She would never give him a chance after all that had occurred.

For the first time in his life, he realized that his intentions didn't matter to the one he loved most.

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

Periwinkle

Hello! This is a sequel to This Fic! This is part of my Hallmark AU (which also has amazing fics written by @comfyswitcherblanketfort and @jaskierswolf) and this was written for @thewitcherbog’s June weddings event! 

Geraskier, rated T, 1.2k words

-

“I don’t think that shade of blue is a good idea,” Jaskier’s voice rang out through the dining room, “a periwinkle would work better. Be a dear and grab a sample, would you?”

The wedding planner pursed her lips and sent a pointed look to Yennefer and Renfri before turning on her heel and marching back out to her car. Renfri met Yennefer’s eye, a severe look on her face. Jaskier was there, at their wedding planning session, at Yennefer’s invitation. Renfri wasn’t sure exactly what the man had said to get himself invited or why Yennefer seemed to have such a soft spot for him, despite how much they snarked at each other, but if he kept trying to control their wedding, Renfri was going to strangle him.

Renfri had made a grand total of two suggestions, both immediately dismissed by Jaskier as he continued ordering their wedding planner about as if she was on his payroll. Of the three people in the room, the only one of them acting like a stereotypical bridezilla was the only one of them who wasn’t a bride.

“Do you need to be such a diva?”

Jaskier looked toward Renfri, surprise written all over his face, “I…”

Suddenly the happy go lucky man Renfri had grown accustomed to was gone, replaced with one whose face screamed sadness. “I need to go.”

Watching the man rush outside, Renfri heard Yennefer sigh beside her.

“What did I do? I’ve called him much worse things than a diva.”

A frown marring her face, Yennefer met Renfri’s gaze, “He’s… worried that Geralt hasn’t proposed to him because he’s famous.”

Oh, “And calling him a diva probably didn’t help.”

“No, but I don’t think planning our wedding for us was helping much either.”

Renfri looked back to the door, watching the wedding planner come in with the periwinkle tablecloth. It really was a lovely color.

-

He was a diva. The word rang through his mind, sharp and unpleasant. He had never wanted that, never wanted to be a diva, never wanted to be that guy. The famous guy that no one liked because he was too lost in his own fame. Jaskier had left the business for a lot of reasons, and that was a notable one. So, he had left and restarted somewhere quiet when he would never turn into that guy.

When, six months prior, a whole year after he had born himself anew, Priscilla had walked back into his life demanding answers and outing him as Dandelion, Jaskier had felt everything crash around him. Sure, there were people in town who knew who he was, but he had an unspoken agreement with them all that it wasn’t to be mentioned. Geralt didn’t know and that was what was important. Geralt’s quiet existence would never lend well to the world fame that came with Dandelion, and Jaskier wanted to spend his life with Geralt more than he had ever wanted anything.  

Of course, it had been Geralt to answer the door, immediately assaulted by a whirlwind of Priscilla demanding Jaskier come out right that second and explain himself. She had understood why he left the business, had even helped him drop off the grid but he wasn’t supposed to ghost her too.

Up to that point, Geralt had mostly been in the dark about Jaskier’s past. He knew Jaskier was running from something, he knew that there were no scorned spouses or law enforcement looking for him, no children left without a father, and that was enough for Geralt. But suddenly Priscilla was there, rattling on about the tour and the fame and how Dandelion had become a giant mystery. Where had the young star disappeared to?

Geralt had taken everything in stride, accepting Jaskier’s past and Priscillas sudden appearance in their lives with grace and everything had been fine. At first, at least. But then Geralt began to withdraw. Not a lot, not enough that anyone else would be able to notice. But Jaskier noticed, and it was everything he had feared. It made perfect sense that Geralt would begin to worry about Jaskier’s life coming back, the media finding him, putting him back in the news, this time with his new life and family at his side. And of course, it would shed a new light on Jaskier as well, it would expose the man as a spoiled brat, a diva.

Jaskier was so lost in his thoughts, it wasn’t until he had already collided with the man that he realized Geralt was standing in front of him. And that Jaskier had made it home, the walk from the inn to their house only taking a few minutes, a few minutes that passed very quickly when Jaskier was so caught up in his own head.

Geralt’s brows were furrowed, his hands resting on Jaskier’s arms, “Are you okay?” His words were colored with concern and Jaskier felt his heart ache. Despite how less comfortable Geralt had clearly become with their relationship, he was still the most caring man Jaskier had ever met.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier pulled back, freeing himself from Geralt’s gentle grip.

“I thought you were going to be out with Yen all morning?”

Jaskier let out a humorless laugh, “They didn’t want me there.”

Reaching up, Geralt placed a hand on the side of Jaskier’s face, “Hey, what’s really going on?”

As their eyes met, Jaskier felt himself crumble, “It’s just hard, seeing them so happy.”

“Why is that hard?”

Jaskier’s voice was barely a whisper when he responded with a small, “Because we aren’t.”

Despite how quiet the words were, Geralt didn’t seem to have any trouble hearing them. He stared at Jaskier as if he had been slapped, shock written across every line of his face.

“I… don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“I don’t- no, I am happy. Or I was, before I noticed you weren’t.”

Suddenly, Jaskier found himself in Geralt’s arms, wrapped in a tight hug, “Jaskier I’m so happy with you. I never meant for you to think I wasn’t.”

“But… you’ve been so distant.”

“I was… worried I wasn’t enough. That you would want to go back.” All the other worries associated with that thought, that Jaskier would want to leave Geralt, their life they were building, were loud and clear to Jaskier, despite remaining unsaid.

“Geralt what I want is you and our family, more than anything else.”

Geralt pulled back enough to meet Jaskier’s eyes, “Were we being stupid?”

Laughing softly, Jaskier nodded, “Yeah, I think we were.”

-

Jaskier couldn’t help but smile contentedly as he spun in circles, safely wrapped in Geralt’s arms.

Yennefer and Renfri’s wedding had been nothing short of perfect. Small and intimate and fun. There wasn’t a thing that was traditional about it, it was the perfect representation of everything that the two had built together. Humming along with the song playing, Jaskier relished in the buzz under his skin. The whole day had been amazing and the romantic in him couldn’t help but enjoy being surrounded by so much love and happiness.

Also, the tablecloths were Jaskier’s favorite shade of periwinkle.

“Hey, Jask?” Geralt’s voice was barely a whisper, drawing Jaskier’s eyes to him.

“Yes, love?”

“Would you marry me?”

Jaskier cocked his head to the side, eyeing Geralt curiously, “Are you proposing?”

“Yes. Quietly, I don’t want to steal the moment.”

Jaskier couldn’t hold back his laugh before leaning in to kiss Geralt, “I would be honored to marry you. And we can tell everyone about it another day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

-

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[harmonizingsunsets]

It might be foolish, but you got me all soft

Read on Archive here.

Kate's nose crinkles as she watches Penelope and Colin. Their feet dance with one another underneath the table. He leans over, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle. Their smiles are brighter than the fluorescent lights of the coffee shop. Watching them is almost blinding.

"You guys are so cute," Kate observes with puckered lips. "I hate that."

Penelope turns to Kate with a bemused expression. "No, you don't. You love us."

"Love isn't the word coming to mind. Nauseated is more like it."

"Kate, everyone finds us adorable," Colin insists, wrapping an arm around Penelope. "It's not a matter of opinion. It's just a fact."

"I'm happy for you two. Honestly, I am. But you're acting so lovey-dovey and sweet that it makes my teeth ache," Kate jokes, picking up her coffee for a sip.

"If we make your teeth ache, then you and Anthony cause cavities," Colin mutters.

Kate chokes a little on her mocha, causing a few patrons to give her odd looks.

"Excuse me?"

"Colin, we talked about this," Penelope says through gritted teeth, shooting him a disapproving look.

"No, you talked about how we weren't supposed to say anything because they're both so jumpy about it, but I disagreed," Colin protests. "Someone needs to open their eyes."

"Hello, I'm still right in front of you," Kate says, waving her hands at them. "Open my eyes to what?"

Colin and Penelope argue with their eyes for a few moments before Penelope cracks, nodding. Colin turns to Kate with a sly grin.

"That you're in love with my brother."

It was a good thing she wasn't drinking that time, or she'd have to spit her coffee all over them. Although, perhaps a spritz of hot coffee would wipe the amusement off of Colin's face.

Kate feels her cheeks heat. She opens her mouth, but only incomprehensible protesting sounds come out.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Colin says, his smile turning softer. "He loves you too."

"That is not true," Kate insists, standing up straighter in her chair. "I don't love him, and he certainly doesn't love me. Right, Penelope?"

When Kate turns to Penelope, the friend she usually can rely on for back-up is instead chewing her lower lip.

"Well...."

"Pen!"

"I'm sorry, but Kate, Colin's right," Penelope says, the words rushing out guiltily. "I write romance books for a living. I know the enemies to lovers trope very well, and you two embody it."

"That's ridiculous!" Kate exclaims, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. "We drive each other crazy. I mean, we've become better friends over the past few months—but it's not like that."

Penelope tilts her head. "Would it be so bad if it was?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

A hundred reasons that Kate could never utter go through her mind. She wants to say, "Anthony dates pop singers and models, and I can't live up to that." Or she could confess, "When he looks at me a beat too long, I feel like I could combust from the weight of it." Most of all, Kate wants to say, "If I let myself love him, I know that I'll never be able to stop."

But she can't tell them any of that. Kate had been just fine about the prospect of being alone. She's satisfied with her career, family, and friends. But if she admits that she loves him, then she'll never be content with any life that doesn't include him in it.

No matter what Colin and Penelope think, Anthony doesn't love her. He can't. Letting herself hope that he does is too dangerous. It scares her more than any thunderstorm she's ever endured.

"I have to go," Kate murmurs, standing up numbly from the table.

"Kate, wait," Colin says, grabbing onto her arm. He looks apologetic, and it's impossible to be upset when looking into his puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's fine," Kate insists with a thin smile, tugging her arm away from his grasp. "I got to go. Have a nice evening."

As she walks out of the coffee shop, she hears a cheesy pop tune about love play on their radio.

The lyrics inspire Anthony's face to surface in her mind.

Kate groans, knowing she's in deep trouble.

That night, she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed but couldn't stop hearing Anthony's teasing voice in her head.

In a huff, Kate gets out of bed and quickly puts on her clothes. She debates whether to reapply makeup but decides against it. No one else will see her where she was going.

Luckily, she's friends with the security guard, who let her inside the building that turned off the lights twenty minutes prior. She thanks him and hastily goes to her office, turning on the light and booting up the computer at her desk.

If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well get some work done.

For a while, all that she hears is the sound of her keys as she typed and the soft hum of music she'd put on to work.

She thought she'd be safe listening to music without lyrics. But Anthony creeps into every note, every chord, and every song.

Just as Kate lowers her head to beat it against the table in frustration, a knock on her door causes her body to jolt upright.

She stands from her chair slowly, walking to the door with caution. No one else would be here this late, so she fears what was on the other side of the door. But if someone was there to hurt her, why would they bother knocking on an unlocked door?

When Kate turns the knob, she sees the face of the man who's been haunting her thoughts for the past few hours (longer than that, if she was honest with herself).

"Hey, what are you doing here so late?" Anthony asks.

"Um, working."

Anthony scans her with curiosity. "On a Sunday?"

"So are you," she points out, crossing her arms.

He holds up a black leather journal. "Actually, I just came by the office for my phone book."

"You have a phone book? Anthony, there's a reason for that contact list on your phone."

"I like writing it down," he defends, looking affronted.

"But you can't add emojis, which adds personality to someone's contact." Kate pulls out her phone and holds out the contacts for him to see. "Edwina has two pink hearts, Penelope has a book, Benedict has an easel, and you have a fire emoji."

"Why do I have a fire emoji?"

"Because you make me want to set things on fire, of course."

Anthony smirks. "Well, next time we play that 'who's most likely to' game in the office, I'll be sure to put you down for becoming an arsonist."

Kate smiles at him, and they fall into one of those moments that's becoming more frequent between them—ones where his body seems to close, and his eyes gleam with something she can't name but feels a kindred sensation within her heart.

Kate takes a step back from him. "Why did you need your phone book so late, anyway?"

Anthony itches behind his ear. Kate frowns, as it's a nervous tick she's never seen from him before. Anthony, like fire, was all-consuming. His feelings were as hot as flames and easy to detect. But now, he looks more guarded, his eyebrows scrunched and his posture squirmish.

"Anthony?" she asks again.

Anthony takes a deep breath. "Well, I actually needed it to call you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. My phone hasn't been working since I went out on the boat with Simon. The bloody idiot knocked it onto the water," he grumbles. "I got a new phone and need to add my contacts back on, which is why I'm lucky I have this phone book which you mocked me for having."

Kate rolls her eyes. "What did you need to call me about?"

"Well, I know we had a rocky start to our relationship—."

"Because you hit on my sister?" she asks, arching her brow.

"I did not hit on her. I merely danced with her at the Christmas party," Anthony corrects with an exasperated sigh. "How many times are we going to argue about this?"

"Until you admit I'm right."

"It'll take a long time for that to happen."

"I've got plenty of time to spend with you."

As soon as those words are out, that heat radiating from Anthony's fire feels warmer. It's as if more time with her is exactly what he wants.

But Kate doesn't let those thoughts get far. She squashes them before they can take root in her mind.

"Continue," Kate tells him.

"Yes, well, as I was saying, we didn't start on the right foot. But, over these past few months, I feel like we've become friends." He looks at her with a hesitant kind of hope. "We have, haven't we?"

Kate smiles. "Yes, we have."

"So, I thought as my friend. You'd like to come with me to this."

Anthony draws two tickets from his pocket and holds one out to her. Kate takes it from in, and her eyes widen as she reads what's on the paper.

"The Vitamin String Quartet?"

"I know you listen to them to relax. I saw that they were touring and coming to London, so I thought that—." His words suddenly halt, tilting his head at her curiously. "What?"

Kate blinks in confusion. "What do you mean 'what?'"

Anthony points at her face. "You were looking at me all funny."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were! You were looking at me like this."

Anthony imitates a soft-looking expression, gazing at her with an affectionate smile. Kate, in horror, realizes she had been looking at him like that.

"Shut up," Kate scoffs, nudging his arm and hoping it distracts from the blush on her face. "Like I'd ever look at you like that."

"If you're going to be mean, I won't give you the ticket."

He reaches over, but she pulls her hand back.

"Fine, I'm sorry," Kate says, looking down at the ticket in awe. "This is really nice of you."

"So, you'll go with me?"

"Of course I will," she nods, beaming in excitement.

Anthony releases a breath. "Good."

He begins to back out of her office, but she steps forward from her desk, grabbing his arm.

"Anthony?"

He turns. "Yes?"

Before she can second guess herself, she leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. When she pulls back, it takes a few seconds for his eyes to open, as if he thinks she's a figment of his imagination that will disappear.

"Thank you," Kate whispers.

Anthony nods, giving her a kind smile before leaving her office.

The music on her computer is still playing. Kate hears the gentle notes of a piano, cautious and optimistic-sounding.

The night had been amazing.

The quartet performed beautifully. They played orchestrational versions of pop songs, which makes Kate feel less guilty about listening to them.

She worried when Anthony said he'd never heard any of their music himself, that he wouldn't enjoy it. But when the concert started, she kept stealing glances out of the corner of her eyes. She saw him watching the players with a content expression.

However, the music didn't help her much with her newfound Anthony problem. When she closed her eyes, the violins sang his name. When his hand grazed hers on the armrest of the chair, the music swelled in tandem with her heart.

He was a song she couldn't get out of her head.

And the worst part was, it was a tune she didn't think she'd ever tire of hearing.

They bantered a bit about the weather while waiting for their Uber. Kate claimed the night was perfectly brisk, not enough to warrant a coat. Anthony, however, disagreed. He poked at the goosebumps on her arm as proof and insisted she take his jacket. She eventually relented, letting him drape his jacket over her shoulders.

When he looked away to wave at the car they'd been waiting for, Kate turned her nose to the jacket. She smelt the scent of amber, sandalwood, and something that was discernibly Anthony.

When they get into the back seat of the car, Anthony turns to her. "Can you believe that couple who sat in front of us?"

"I know! They were all over each other the whole night."

"Music is the food of love, but couldn't they have got the meal before the concert?"

"You'd think," Kate huffs, curling her fists further into his sleeves for warmth. She looks back at him, offering a smile. "I had a really nice time."

"I'm glad," Anthony nods. He swallows nervously, forcing himself to meet her eyes. When he does, Kate sees a raw vulnerability glistening in them. "I just wanted to make you happy."

She bumps her shoulder against his. "You do that by just being you."

Kate's words skim a cello string, creating a deep note that lingers in the air. Something flickers in Anthony's expression, his gaze steadying on her. Suddenly, it's harder for Kate to breathe.

"Look at us, acting like that couple," Kate jokes, trying to ease the tension. "The music must be getting to us too."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Anthony hums, moving a fraction closer to her. "Because right now, I feel this urge to put my arm around you."

Anthony gives in to the feeling, putting an arm around her back. Kate's breath hitches as his thumb rubs circles on her arm. Even through the material of Anthony's jacket, his fingertips send electric shocks to her skin.

"And I want to lean my head right here," she finds herself saying, resting her head on top of his shoulder.

"I want to tuck this strand of hair behind your ear.”

Kate feels his fingers skim against his cheek, gently moving a curl that had fallen into her face behind her ear. Her breath quickens, slowly turning her eyes up at him, and the look he's giving her is overwhelming.

"This is all so ridiculously stereotypical. You make me feel so—so..." Kate's words drift, unable to finish her sentence. Her tongue goes out to wet her lips that suddenly feel dry. "I hate it."

Anthony's index finger goes to her chin, tilting it up and off of his shoulder. "Do you hate this?"

He leans forward, kissing her so sweet and tenderly that she knows if she were standing, her foot would pop up like all of those delusionally romantic heroines in movies do when they kiss.

She gets lost in him. Her hands go up to cup his cheek as she deepens the kiss. Anthony's arm moves from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He swallows her gasp, and Kate hears a cacophony of melodies in her mind.

Kate doesn't know how long they stay wrapped in another's arms. It's only when the driver clears his throat that she realizes the car had come to a stop.

They jump apart, and Anthony gives the driver an uncomfortable nod. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," he says gruffly and mutters something about "just wait till you have kids, it won't be like this" as they get out of the car.

They stand awkwardly on the street for a few seconds. Kate looks around them. The vivid leaves of the trees stand out amongst the darkness of the night.

Kate remembers when she first met Anthony. It'd been fall, and the trees were bare with leaves littering the ground. It had felt fitting. Back then, her publishing company announced that they were joining one of their competitors. She had to work with Anthony, as they were both the top production editors of the separate companies. Like the leaves, it felt like everything was falling apart. Every smirk or retort of Anthony's felt like the leaves blowing chaotically in the wind.

But now, the trees were alive again, flooding with color. Kate's at the dawn of a new season with Anthony. It's something as inevitable as the change of weather but as everlasting as the stars above them.

No—stars eventually burn out. Kate thinks that whatever is between her and Anthony will continue to burn when all other flames dim.

"So, that happened," Kate says, breaking the silence.

Anthony takes a cautious step towards her. "Yeah, it did."

"I didn't hate it," she shrugs with a teasing tilt of her lips.

"Wow, what great appraisal. Can I list you as a reference for giving me such a raving review?"

"Excuse me, who else are you planning to apply with?"

"No one, I'm quite satisfied with my employment with you," he assures smugly, his hand going up to her cheek. "But, I'd like to have a slight promotion in my position."

Kate leans into his touch. "Oh really, what position do you want to fill?"

"Well, I think I've done everything that I can in the enemy job. I've enjoyed the friend's position. But, if the boyfriend position is available, I'd like to submit my candidacy."

Kate loops her arms around his neck. "Well, how about we check over your application one more time?"

"Where do you want me to start?" Anthony asks, pressing his lips to her temple. "My education?" he murmurs as he kisses her forehead. "My goals?" Kate sighs as his lips move to the corner of her mouth, and his hand curls around her waist. "My experience?" He kisses her again, and Kate feels his smirk against her lips. "Or, my skills?"

Kate pulls back with a smirk of her own. "How about what drew you to this position?"

His eyes gleam roguishly, looking at the lack of space between them. "This particular position?"

Kate tries her best to give him a stern look. "Anthony."

"You," he answers simply, resting his forehead against hers. "Everything about you."

Kate's unable to stop herself, chuckling softly. "Wow, that's incredibly sappy."

"But it's true."

She takes a deep breath, feeling content and peaceful in his arms. "Maybe being sappy isn't such a bad thing."

"No," Anthony agrees, the corner of his lips tilting up as he studies her intently. "I'm starting to think that it's not."

This time when Kate kisses him, she does it without a single reservation about cliches or stereotypes, or how she would roll her eyes if she saw the two of them on the street.

Kate's foot pops, and the song that's been stuck in her head gets set on an infinite loop.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 118

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,010ish

Summary: Y/N goes on the run.

Y/N appeared in the Zephyr. Immediately on the look out for Coulson. She turned the corner, running into another agent.

“I’m so sorry,” the agents apologized, stepping back. “Are you— you’re Agent Rogers. You’re awake.”

“Um… yeah. Have you seen Coulson?”

“Him and Mack are on the ground, doing some work.”

“Oh, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? Why would you—“

“Come in, Zephyr One. Come in,” Director Mace called over the comms in the front control panel.

The agent rushed over. “This is Zephyr One.”

“Agent Y/N Rogers is missing. If you find her, take her into immediate custody.” The agent looked Y/N’s way.

“Please,” she whispered, “don’t… I don’t want to force you to not. Just… don’t.”

“We haven’t seen her, sir,” the agent replied to the Director. “We’ll let you know if there’s a sighting.” The agent hung up and walked towards Y/N. “I know that you don’t deserve to be in custody.”

“Thank you, Agent…”

“Johnson.” He held out his hand. “Agent Johnson.”

“Thank you Agent Johnson. Tell Coulson that I tried to say goodbye, will ya? And that I’ll reach out if I need anything.”

“Of course. Stay safe, Agent Rogers.”

Y/N nodded before stepping through a portal. Looking around, she took in her surroundings. It was a cold December evening in London, where she had placed herself. It was time for her to work on gathering her strength for the inevitable fight and for her to figure out how to tap into the Soul Stone. Y/N also knew she needed to stay on the run, the government was going to be non-stop after her, world wide. She couldn’t afford to stay in one place too long.

Y/N found a small shop where she bought a backpack and some essentials she would need for the run. She bought a train ticket to Amsterdam and immediately headed there. In her private room on the train, the news was on. She was ignoring it, simply taking in everything going past the window, until something caught her attention.

“It has been almost two months since Tony Stark announced that he was selling Avengers Tower in New York,” the news reporter stated. “So far, he’s had many bids, but has not officially closed on anything. Rumors have it is that he’s hiding rouge Avengers, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Wanda Maximoff in the Tower. Officials have denied it, but who can blame us for asking?”

“In other news about Tony Stark, his former girlfriend has officially been announced as a wanted fugitive of the United States government. Nothing has been heard about Avenger Y/N Rogers since the Sokovia Accords were put in place, until now. That has people wondering if Stark had been hiding her until she couldn’t take being cooped up anymore and decided to join her brother and former lover, Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier, on the run.”

“Again, most of this has not been confirmed. But one can only assume that—“

Y/N turned off the tv, unable to hear anymore. No one truly understood what had happened, nor did they really try to. With a sigh, she laid down and fell asleep.

She lived like this for the past two and a half months, constantly on the move, barely making time to even sight see. She had made her way across a majority of the Europe and Asia continents. It was lonely, but she knew it needed to be done. As much as she tried, Y/N was never able to connect with the Soul Stone. That didn’t mean she stopped trying though.

Currently, she had found her way to South Africa. She had been there longer than she had been anywhere else. Y/N was enjoying it there. She was walking the streets of a market, enjoying the smells and the food when she could sense someone following her. Turning around, trying to make it normal, she couldn’t see anyone obviously following her. Pursing her lips she turned around and headed for an alley way outside of the market. Y/N wasn’t afraid to take on whoever was following her. She was honestly a little curious as to who had tracked her down.

Turning into the alley way, she was thankful that it was empty. She didn’t need any civilians in the way. Facing away from the entry, she heard someone jump down from the building onto the ground. Using her powers, she jumped into the person’s mind, forcing them to freeze. Y/N turned around to see a person in a black suit, more specifically, a blank panther suit.

“T’Challa?” Y/N questioned. They had never really formally met, but she knew who the new King was.

“Y/N,” he greeted through the mask. “Mind letting me go?”

“Not until you tell me why you’re here? Why are you following me?”

“I made a promise.”

“To the Accords you signed?”

“To your brother.”

Y/N let her hold go. She took a step forward as T’Challa let his mask down.

“Steve. Do you know where he is?”

“I do not. But I promised that I would look for you and keep you safe. You haven’t been all that sneaky since you arrived in Africa.”

“I knew I was over staying my welcome. Thank you, T’Challa, for looking out for me. But I think I’m doing okay.”

“And I think you need to rest. Wakanda is a safe place, no one will turn you in. You can stay as long as you want.”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think I want to risk it.”

“I understand but, Y/N, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You don’t look like you’ve been taking very good care of yourself.”

“Well, not every place I find to stay at is a five star hotel.”

“You do not need to stay very long. Just get some rest and then you can be on your way.”

“T’Challa… I don’t—“

“Don’t make it seem like I’m breaking the promise I made to your brother.”

“You’re good.” She smirked, waving her finger at him. “Fine. Let’s go.”

~~~

Wakanda was more amazing than Y/N had ever imagined. She had heard that T’Challa had opened it up to the world saying that they had the technology and resources to help many. But she had struggled to believe that until Y/N saw it with her own eyes. T’Challa introduced her to the Dora Milaje, the King’s guard, and their head Okoye. Y/N was extremely impressed that the King’s guard were all women. 

Next, she was given a tour of the labs, where she met Princess Shuri and the Queen Mother Ramonda. They were both so kind and welcoming, offering to get Y/N anything she needed. T’Challa then showed her to a room.

“This room will be yours for how ever long you need,” T’Challa stated as Y/N walked around. “I will have your meals for today brought to you, so that you can get some rest. Feel free to safely explore the kingdom. You are safe here.”

That last sentence made Y/N tear up. She hadn’t felt safe is so long. “Thank you, T’Challa, for all of this.”

“Of course. Please let me know if you need anything.”

He gave a kind smile before shutting the door and heading down the hallway. Shuri was at the end to meet him.

“So…” she started, “does she know?”

“I do not believe so,” T’Challa replied, keeping his pace.

“Are you planning on telling her?”

“Not unless it comes up. She needs to be able to rest, not worry about anything else.”

“Well, do you plan on telling him that she’s here? Or the Captain?”

“For now, I do not. The Captain has enough on his plate and you continue must to work with the White Wolf and try to get him better. Do not say anything just yet. We do not know how long she plans on staying.”

“She may stay longer if she knew about him.”

“We do not know that and I do not want to test that.”

~~~

Y/N let herself enjoy a delicious meal before falling asleep. When she woke, it was night and she was now wide awake. Taking T’Challa up on his offer to explore the kingdom, Y/N changed into something warm at set out to find a way out of the palace. She was honestly grateful that it was dark and that hardly anyone was out, it let her wander without the fear of prying eyes. 

As she wandered through the fields, Y/N tried to connect with the Soul Stone. It was frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t find away to tap into those powers. She wanted to feel and interact with the souls she had lost, hoping that it might calm her guilty heart. Y/N had tried to get in contact with the Ancient One, but to avail. It was becoming clearer and clearer that the Ancient One had been right, it was up to Y/N and Y/N alone to figure out the Soul Stone.

Too deep in her mind, Y/N hadn’t realized how far away from the palace and main city she had wandered. But someone else had. He kept his distance and kept quiet, fearing that what he was seeing was an illusion. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but this was a little too real. He was too busy staring at her to notice the branch his was about to step on.

SNAP!

Both he and Y/N froze. Their hearts started beating faster. His because he was scared that she would disappear and hers because she had just come to the realization that she was being followed. Completely on guard now, Y/N slowly turned around.

“Who’s there?” She called out. 

When she was fully turned around, she saw no one. But that was because he had laid down in the tall grass, trying to stay out of sight. Y/N could sense the person’s presence. She took a few, careful steps forward towards the person.

“I know you’re there,” she said. “No point in hiding. Just show your face and I can promise you I won’t hurt you.”

He sighed, which Y/N heard. Y/N waited with bated breath for the person following her to show their face. The grass several feet away rustled as the person pushed themselves up from the ground to stood. Y/N inhaled sharply at the silhouette in front of her. The man was bulky, clearly long hair and was missing one arm.

“Bucky?” Y/N breathed out.

“Hello, Y/N.” He responded, clearly nervous. “How are you?”

“I—I—I didn’t know… they didn’t tell me…”

“T’Challa probably didn’t tell you on purpose. How long have you been in Wakanda?”

“Not even a day.”

The two couldn’t move. Too scared to get closer to each other.

“How long have you been here?” Y/N asked.

“Since Siberia,” he answered. “T’Challa was there as well, he brought Steve and I here for safety.”

“Is… Is Steve here then?”

“No. He left after I was put back in cryo.”

“They put you back in cryo?”

“Until Shuri could find away to take HYDRA out of my head.”

“Did they…? Did they help you?”

“For the most part… we’re still working on it.”

They stared at each other, quietly, for a few long minutes.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “I’ve got to go.”

“Please don’t.” Bucky reached out, taking a brave step forward. “At least, don’t leave Wakanda just yet. I want to… I want to see you again.”

“I… I won’t… I just… I just need to think.”

“Of course.”

Y/N opened a portal beside her, unable to take her eyes off Bucky. “Goodnight… Bucky.” She stepped through the portal, disappearing into her room.

“Goodnight, doll.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[cloud9in]

Encounter (Mc x Veronica)

Summary: Veronica goes out for drinks one night and finds herself in a situation where she needs saving. Good thing Bea exists right?

This fic was highly inspired by my boo @fundamentalromantic. Thank you so much for the idea and I hope you enjoy it.

Word count: 2,300

Warnings: Violence, implied sex, but 80% banter 

Tags: @samanthadalton @satrinadia @clowneryme @thedaft1 @alccaddsccup @penda-bear (tagged some people who I thought would like to read)

 A day before moving into Belvoire, Veronica decided she should get a feel of the area. New York was far different from the usual quietness of her small hometown in California. But on the bright side, the vlogger would get a ton of content for her Youtube channel in the buzzing city where people never sleep. The first few days of exploring involved bar hopping and recruiting Chloe to help her film in Soho and Chinatown for beauty week. Poppy took part in Veronica’s tour as well, and on Thursday the girls decided to check out the newest night club that opened up.

 Veronica stepped out of the car in a sparkly thigh-length dress with a slit, and black Louboutin heels. It definitely caught the attention of people standing outside the club, a few guys even attempting to approach her in their drunken state. Chloe basked in the attention, flirting with a blonde-haired guy who was clearly overdressed (in her eyes). Poppy dragged Chloe with her and the three girls walked swiftly past the long line of people and up to the bouncer. It didn’t take much effort to have him open the door for them, being as they were the three hottest people on the block, but Veronica also did have a killer reputation at just about any place she stepped foot in.

 An hour into partying and Veronica held her phone up as her livestream watched them all do a round of colorful tequila shots. The vlogger definitely felt the warm buzz of booze swimming through her veins as her muscles started to relax. New York was the place to be right now and more eventful than all of the years she lived in Cali. Veronica was excited to continue her career and studies in a place like this, but her peaceful thoughts are quickly cut off when someone approaches her, the smell of cheap alcohol invading her senses.

 “What’s a tigress like you doing in a raunchy place like this baby?” Veronica rolled her eyes at the hideous effort of flirting by a man who reeked of “just got divorced and into younger women”. His friends (who were probably part of the same club) seemed to laugh around him, encouraging the unwanted behavior. She shook her head and turned away from him in her chair. Don’t let some idiots ruin your night V, have some fun.

 She immediately stiffened when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, the wet feeling of his alcohol soaked beard grazing against her cheek. Veronica  jerked up abruptly, shoving the man away from her and placing her arms up in defense. “Get the fuck off of me.” 

 At this point people started to stare at them, Poppy and Chloe already standing by the Zeta’s side with anger. Veronica had left her phone on the table but the stream kept going, capturing the voices of patrons in the bar getting increasingly louder. The bearded man watched her with a predatory look on his face, well aware of the crowd that was forming around them. He grunted and turned away after realizing he probably couldn’t take on three women at once, atleast not in the way he imagined. Chloe scoffs loudly, crossing her arms, “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re scared of us. Pathetic piece of garbage.” 

 Yeah....bad idea Chlo.

 When he whipped around to face them, Veronica finally noticed just how large his muscles were, and how they were straining against his shirt. Oh shit. 

 “What did you say to me bitch?”

 Veronica shot a nasty glare at Chloe before facing the stranger once again, her arms slightly trembling. “Look, let's just forget all of this and move on with our night. Don't mind my friend...she’s just..” Veronica leans closer, mocking a whisper, “it’s that time of the month.” The guys laughed at her comment and she silently breathed a sigh of relief, hoping this would make them back off. The last thing Veronica needed was to get her ass handed to her on live, with thousands of people watching. Poppy stood there eyeing the men, her hand already on the tip of her phone, ready to speed dial her dad, or the cops...or her therapist if things went awry. 

 Chloe sneered at Veronica, her awful balance making her stumble as she stepped closer to the men. She clearly had too much to drink. “Oh please, I’m not sorry for anything that comes out of my mouth, even if it includes vomit!” She points a finger in their direction, “give me your best you motherfuc- mmh!”

 Poppy clamps one hand straight onto the blonde’s mouth before she can spit out any more profanity. Her face a mixture of annoyance and fear as the men start to lose their smiles. Veronica can see the bearded man getting ready to lunge at her and her flight or fight instincts seemed to kick in at the last second. She dodged the hand that tried to grab her, but he caught her leg as he was spent sprawling down on the ground from something behind. She yelped and kicked free of his hold before catching the gaze of a woman who stood a few feet away from her. Their eye contact was immediately broken as the stranger glared down at the man, “hands off the lady.”

 Two men from the group with buzzcuts tried to grab hold of the brunette’s arms but she spins easily and kicks one right in between the legs, making him fall in pain. The other guy tried to knock her down from behind but she locked his arm in an odd and excruciating position, “do you really want to do this?” His persistence led her to pull on his elbow, eliciting a scream from the man until he surrendered and scurried away, along with the rest of their crew.

 The brunette swiftly kicks the bearded man in the abdomen after seeing him trying to get up, “stay down you asshole.” 

 She wipes a trickle of sweat from her forehead and huffs out, “I’ve wrestled pigs bigger than these guys, but damn that was a workout.” Unbeknownst to the woman, it was all caught on tape and would be everywhere, including Belvoire’s hottest gossip blog the T. But she doesn’t have to worry about that because she doesn’t go there, right?

 Veronica gapes at the girl who single handedly became her hero, in tight leather pants. The curly-haired woman noticed the speechless expression on her face and smirked. “Well if I were you guys, I’d leave this place before the cops miraculously show up.”

 “Somebody should call the police! These- these bimbos tried to kill us-”

 Chloe earns another hand on her mouth as Poppy starts to push her towards the exit, “Oh yeah the only bimbo here is YOU, go and sit in the car before you end up in a jail cell.” 

 Veronica turns away from the chaotic scene and notices that the brunette has gotten closer to her. She can feel her throat starting to heat up, and it was enough to take her mind off what just happened. The Zeta girl tries to take a step and immediately feels her heel slip sideways, but the woman captures her hands and steadies her before she can fall. “Woah- careful there. Maybe we should walk outside? This club is starting to get crowded.” 

 They step around the man sprawled out on the floor. Yeah someone will probably come get him, no worries. Veronica lets her lead the way until they both step out to the curb. The brunette helps her sit down on the edge of the sidewalk before taking a seat next to her. “You know, I can’t keep living life without knowing the name of my savior.” 

 The mystery girl barks out a laugh as she siddles closer to her. She holds out her hand, hoping that Veronica would grab it, “Bea, Bea Hughes. And you?”

 Veronica stares at her wide-eyed, a not so sarcastic gasp escaping her lips, “You-you don’t know who I am?”

 “...Should I?”

 Bea scrunches her eyebrows in confusion before snapping her fingers, “Oh wait! You’re a Kardashian..!” That earns her a hard smack to her leg but she can only laugh teasingly. 

 “I think that was the most disrespectful thing someone has ever said to me....You’re very lucky you’re cute. Oh and it's Veronica.”

 Bea bites her lip shyly, “You’re too beautiful to be one of them...Veronica. And you definitely look all real to me.”

 “Okay if you’re trying to seduce me, this is NOT the way to go Hughes.”

 They both bust out laughing and Veronica wraps her arm around Bea’s, letting herself sink into her side. “Thank you by the way...I mean, not like I couldn’t handle it myself.” She shrugs and looks down at their entangled arms, squeezing tighter, “I owe you one.”

 “You don’t owe me a damn thing Veronica. I’m just grateful I was there as well. This ain’t the first time those goons have harassed women in the area.”

 “Judging by that southern accent and fighting skills, I’m guessing you’re not from here?”

 Bea smiles down at Veronica, studying her bright hazel eyes and luscious lashes. “No I am not, but….if you want to know more about me, how about over a drink? If you want to.” 

 The Zeta girl laughs softly, nudging her, “Oh so you do know how to flirt Hughes. Let's do it! But um..it might be a little difficult to do that because my heel is broken.”

 Bea peers down at her stilettos which seemed to be way past 7 lives now and smiles to herself. In one swift motion she scoops Veronica up in her arms bridal style. The vlogger gasps in surprise before wrapping her arms around the brunette’s neck. “Our problem seems to have disappeared already. And you are incredibly light like a feather.” Bea teases the Zeta, lifting her in an up and down motion.

 “That’s because I’m 40% alcohol right now, but do keep me in your arms, perfectly convenient for me.”

 “You mean I get to carry a stunning woman in my arms free of charge? This must be heaven..”

 “Okay Ms. Flirt, keep walking I’ll direct you where to go.”

 Bea fought the urge to tease her about trying to be dominant but the voices of Poppy and Chloe caught their attention. She approached the car where Chloe sat…wailing hysterically..?

 “I don’t want to go to prison! Don’t let them take me Poppy please!” The blonde grabs Poppy’s dress and doesn’t let go, desperately looking around. When Bea finally stops in front of them, Poppy looks over at the two women and rolls her eyes, clearly fed up.

 “Poppy what the hell is happening with Chlo?!” Veronica breathes out, even though this is the last place she wants to be.

 “Chloe thinks I called the cops on her and she said she doesn't want to sleep on a concrete bed with two other women in a prison cell.”

 Bea raises an eyebrow as she watches the two Zeta girls stare at each other like they’re used to what was happening right now. Veronica gives Poppy a stern look, essentially telling her “leave me alone, I’m trying to get laid”, and the strawberry blonde catches on quickly. She turns away, sighing heavily, “Go, I’ll deal with this. But be at the house tomorrow, it's our first day back.”

 The Zeta grins and blows her a kiss, signaling for Bea to carry on down the sidewalk as she lays in her arms barefoot. Poppy watches them walk away and roll her eyes.

 “So, should I ask?”

 “I think you would appreciate it if I didn’t tell you.”

 The brunette laughs easily, crossing the now empty street. The more she walked the direction that Veronica guided her to, the more quieter it got. “Um… V. Where exactly are we going..?”

 “You’ll see. It’s a secret spot. Kind of like a speakeasy, except it’ll just be the two of us and we can do whatever we want.” Veronica flips her hair seductively, catching Bea’s gaze as she bites her lips and winks. The brunette can feel her heart starting to beat faster, her breath hitching in her throat. She barely can move her gaze off of Veronica’s hazel orbs, her cheeks reddening at the girl’s shameless comment. 

 Lucky for Bea (or maybe not), their night was just getting started, and Veronica would have her blushing again, but this time on her knees. 

 ***

 Veronica saunters confidently into the gates of Belvoire on move-in day, watching as others run around campus with luggages and bags. She sips on the iced latte in her land, eyes glued to her phone on the other hand. She eventually finds Chloe yelling at some assistant girl and immediately turns around, not wanting to deal with it. A woman with a suitcase and a grey Henley shirt approaches the blonde, reprimanding her for her rude behavior. The video of the fight last night appears on the T just as Veronica looks at her phone again. Bea’s leather jacket appears on-screen and knocks the man down. Veronica smirks as she watches the woman take on 3 men effortlessly. People around start to point at the brunette while looking at their phones, and Veronica doesn’t look up until two voices that appear to be arguing, get louder. She nearly drops the cup of coffee in her hands when she sees the same face that was between her legs the previous night. 

 And as Poppy approaches Bea, the brunette catches a glimpse of familiar hazel eyes and ombre colored hair and her eyes go wide. “...Veronica..?” Oh shit.

[albertasunrise]

No More - Chapter 1

Summary: Frankie has been your best friend since you were in the 2nd grade. You were each other's first’s, he, your first love and as you’d both gotten older you always somehow fell into bed together after one too many drinks with the boys. You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up but fate has other plans for you both and events as set in motion to decide for you.

Warnings: Explicit, Unprotected sex, blood and injury, overdose, unplanned pregnancy - 18+

Pairings: Frankie/ Reader

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You and Frankie became best friends the date he put Billy Green in his place. The boy had been dragging you by your pigtails when Frankie had come along to put him in his place, kicking him in the shins and sending the boy running with tears streaming down his fat cheeks. From that day the two of you had been inseparable. He had been there for you when you went through your first heartbreak and you had been there to hold him through his. He had convinced his parents to take you in when your parents died in a car accident, leaving you with no one and nothing. His family had welcomed you with open arms and supported you through the hell of burying your parents at 15. At 16 and Brad Jones asked you to the dance. You'd confessed to Frankie you were nervous he might kiss you and that you’d never been kissed. He had taken your face in his hands and pressed his soft lips to yours, grinning when you’d deepened it before the both of you had pulled away flustered and out of breath. The night of the dance Brad had kissed you but when he’d pulled you into that bruising kiss, you’d wished the whole time that it was Frankie whose tongue danced with yours. You and Brad dated for a while and things got fairly serious pretty quickly and you soon found that he was talking about the two of your being intimate, something else you’d never done. You’d been embarrassed when Brad had asked you about it. ‘You’ve obviously had sex before right?’ He had said and in a moment of weakness, you’d told him yes. You sobbed to Frankie that night, sitting cross-legged on your bed as your shoulders shook.

‘I should have just been honest with him but I was scared he’d dump me.’ You’d confessed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

‘Do you want to have sex with him?’ He had asked, rubbing your arm with a big hand.

‘Yes... yes of course but he’s going to know that I haven’t when we... you know...'

‘Well, what if you do it before?’ He had asked, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

‘And who am I going to have sex with then?’ You’d questioned, rolling your eyes at his suggestion.

‘Me.’

His statement had taken you by surprise. He had admitted that he hadn’t had sex before either so you’d be doing him a favour too and so that evening you lost your virginity to your best friend. The man that you were secretly in love with. You and he did it a few times that week, getting a little practice in as he had called it and so when it had come to doing the deed with Brad, you knew what to expect. The sex was okay, he had made you cum once but he was very much focused on his own pleasure whereas Frankie had focused on yours before anything else. You and Brad broke up a few weeks later. Your best friend had been there to pick up the pieces but you didn’t fall apart, you weren’t upset that things were over. You did fall apart when Frankie met Ella, his first serious girlfriend and a girl that he ended up dating for over a year. You’d had to listen to him fuck her, crying into your pillow as you remembered how he had made you feel when his hips had thrust against yours. When his lips had kissed your throat. You'd ended up having to take care of yourself for a while, unable to look at anyone else but him. Not that you were short on offers. Ella didn’t last though and when Prom had come around you have been overjoyed when he’d asked you to go with him. You danced the night away, hoping the entire evening that he would kiss you but he never did. You’d cried yourself to sleep that night. The day you both graduated was a day that was engrained into your brain permanently. It was supposed to have been the best day of your life, finishing one chapter and starting another at NYU. You’d almost screamed the house down when you’d gotten in. Frankie’s family throwing a celebration but it hadn't escaped your notice how distant he had been that night. On graduation day, you discovered why. His family had thrown a small party at their house, inviting a few other families of the kids you and he were friends with along. It had taken a lot of courage for him to pull you away from your friends to tell you what he was about to but he did. He pulled you into his bedroom, telling you to sit on the bed as he paced the length of his bedroom.

‘Frankie, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?’ You’d asked, tilting your head to the side when he finally stopped and looked at you.

‘I’m enlisting.’ He had blurted out, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he’d waited for you to speak.

‘You’re what?’

‘I’ve enlisted.’ He’d repeated as he’d plopped himself down in his desk chair ‘Going to train to be a pilot like I’ve always wanted.’

‘You wanted to be a commercial pilot!’ You’d spat, feeling anger bubbling under the surface ‘Fewer guns firing at you that way.’

‘Please...’ He’d pleaded ‘I leave on Sunday and I can’t go knowing you’re mad at me.’

‘I’m not mad Frankie.’ You’d stated ‘I’m just surprised. You could die.’

‘At least my death will mean something.’

You’d stormed out after that, knowing that if you’d stayed you would have said something you’d regret. The two of you had sorted things out by the time he needed to leave though and you had waved him off at the airport, crying with his mum as he’d disappeared out of sight and you prayed you’d see him again.

You did see him again, 5 years later at a family gathering. He’d been given leave for a few weeks and had flown home to see you and his parents. You’d been doing well after University. You had secured a job at a tech company, quickly rising through the ranks and you’d been able to buy a house just a few blocks from Frankie’s parents. You’d taken to working remotely, preferring the isolation.

You then didn't see Frankie for another 6 years. It had been gone two in the morning when frantic knocking had echoed through the house. You’d sprinted down the stairs, wiping the sleep from your eyes as you peeped through the door before opening it to Frankie’s mother sobbing. Your stomach had sunk, fearing she was here to tell you that he’d died in active duty. You’d pulled her sobbing form into your arms and held her as she cried, waiting until she was a little calmer to ask what’s wrong.

‘Frankie’s been shot in action.’ She’d told you and you’d had to cover your mouth to hide your reaction as you’d clutched your stomach ‘They’ve flown him back for treatment but can’t tell me how he is.’ She’d sobbed ‘I need to drive to the city but I can’t go alone.’

Frankie’s father had died the year before. He’d been unable to make it back for the funeral and had not been home since, Delta force having a hold over his life that you’d never understood. You’d told his mum that you’d take her, invited her in so that you could go change quickly before grabbing your car keys and heading out. She’d told you what hospital and you’d driven as fast as you could, praying that you weren’t greeted by something that had haunted your nightmares once too often. Over the years you had dated but nothing had ever really gotten past a few months. None of them had been Frankie. You’d tried to tell yourself that still being hung up over a crush from your teenage years was silly. Yes you’d fucked but you’d never been an item, he’d done you a favour, that’s all it had been. When you’d arrived at the hospital you’d both been relieved to learn that he was expected to make a full recovery. He’d taken three bullets. One to the leg, one to the shoulder and one to the abdomen. He stayed in the hospital for a week before he was sent home to recover, his mum overjoyed to have him home again. You’d visited most nights, helping his mum as she wasn’t able to care for him as he needed, her age really showing. You’d supported him through the PTSD that he ultimately suffered from because of his shooting, helping him through the panic attacks triggered by the sound of someone dropping something or a car backfiring. It had broken your heart to see him that way but despite if all he was send off on another tour and you'd prayed every night that he'd return.

His mum passed a few years later and he’d suffered heavily after that, ultimately retiring from the delta force along with his buddies Tom, Benny, Will and Pope. You’d seen more of him after that, going out at least once a week for drinks with him and the guys. That's how it started. It had been Santi’s birthday and everyone had ended up in a club after drinks in the bar. Alcohol and loud music had flowed through you as surely as the blood in your veins that night. Frankie had asked you to dance with him and you’d been surprised at how well he moved. Your back had been flush against his chest as your hips moved in sync with the beat. His hands had travelled. His lips had placed hot, wet, kisses along the junction of your neck and you’d melted to his touch. The next thing you knew he was back at your place, the two of you not even making it to the bedroom as clothes had been discarded and you fell onto the couch in a tangle of limps. He’d fucked you senseless. Marked you. Worshipped you. In the morning you did not talk about it, just made breakfast and called him a cab, crying as soon as he left. Despite how it had hurt you it kept happening. Turning into an almost weekly occurrence and each time it chipped away a small part of you. Every time, you told yourself that that time would be the last, that you would tell him to either commit to you or move on but deep down you relished even having just one small part of him. To pretend just for that night that he was yours and you were his. The night you’d finally plucked up the courage to tell him it was over was a night that haunted you still. You had decided to visit him one evening after work, knowing full well you’d not be able to do it before or after one of your rendezvous. You’d knocked a few times and he hadn’t answered but his truck was parked in the drive and the TV flickered through the blinds so you’d known he was home. You started to bang more loudly then, hoping it would grab his attention but still nothing. You’d been angry then, digging around in your bag to find the spare key he’d given you months ago. When you found it and let yourself in you found Frankie fitting on the floor, covered in his own vomit whilst his body convulsed. It had later transpired he’d accidentally overdosed on cocaine, a substance he’d been taking for months to cope with his PTSD. You’d supported him through his recovery, and through his relapse but you’d not been able to tell him that it had to stop. Too scared you’d send him down a path of no return. The group dynamic changed after that, everyone walking on eggshells around him. You still kept finding yourself in his bed and you’d now gotten to the point where you couldn’t do it anymore. You’d tried to date, had a few boyfriends and yet somehow he still found his way into your bed. Those relationships failed and still, he didn’t commit to you. There were times you thought maybe he cared for you the same way you did for him. Pulling you onto his lap when you were at movie night with the boys. His fingers drawing circles on your skin as he pulled you close. Then he’d met her.

Emily.

They became serious fast. She’d moved in with him after just two months of dating. She was suddenly there, all the time and you were pushed aside. He barely spoke to you. Barely looked at you. He was totally enamoured by her and it killed you even more. At least before, for a small while, he was solely focused on you. Your pleasure. Now he was focused on her. It eventually became to difficult to see them together and so you stopped going to movie night. Fight night. Anything that involved him you ceased attendance and the only people that seemed to worry was the Miller brothers. Santi had left to fight a war on drugs in Brazil and you rarely heard from him. It had hit Frankie hard at first, not having one of his oldest friends there to help him through the hard times but you had. You had cared for him. Cried with him. Held him, but now it seemed that meant nothing.

After a copious amount of arm twisting, Benny had managed to convince you to come to fight night that night.

‘Its the biggest fight of my career!’

He’d told you and so you’d decided that you would go for him. You’d go to the fight, show your support and then leave. You didn’t need to speak to Frankie, didn’t need to look at him. You just needed to be there for Ben. The crowd was crazy, people screaming at each other just to be heard. Your eyes scanned the crowd and landed on Will who was waving you over, the smile on his face stretching from ear to ear.

‘Hey Will.’ You say sweetly as he pulls you into a bear hug.

‘I’ve missed you.’ He states as he pushes you to arm's length so he can look at you ‘Where the hell have you been?’

‘I’ve just had some stuff that I’ve been dealing with.’ You reply, shrugging your shoulders.

‘Here’s your beer brother.’ Comes a familiar voice and your blood runs cold.

Will takes his drink and thanks Frankie and you excuse yourself to go to the bar. You noticed that Emily was nowhere to be seen and that brought you some relief. You order your drink and head back over to the boys, squealing when you see Ben stood there speaking to them. You put down your drink and run into his waiting arms, wrapping your legs wound his waist and he spins you.

‘Fuck I’ve missed you.’ He says as he puts you down ‘Where did you go? What have you been up to?’

‘I’ve been dealing with some stuff.’ You reply ‘Learnt who my friends are though.’

You notice Frankie flinch out the corner of your eye and you smile, at least he knew that was aimed at him. You were relieved when Tom arrived just in time to save you from being alone with Frankie as Will and Ben head out back to prepare for the fight. You’d never particularly liked Tom but at that moment you’d never been happier to see him in your life. He sat between you and Fish, limited his conversation and most importantly acted as a much-needed barrier between you and the man you’d called your best friend since you were 7. The fight was brutal but Benny won, walking out with his arms above his head, he cheers before stealing Toms beer and downing the last of it.

‘Nice one Benjamin.’ You say as you pat him on the arm.

‘Coming for drinks?’ Asks Will as he pulled you into a sideways hug.

‘Nah I need to get home.’

‘Right yeah.’ Replies Benny, his hurt evident in his tone ‘Well we’ll see you when we see you I guess.’

You hugged the brother's goodbye, bid Tom farewell and left, leaving a perplexed Frankie in your wake. The drive home was quick and uneventful, the lights being on your side and soon you found yourself pulling into your drive. Once inside the house, you poured yourself a large glass of wine and collapse onto the couch. You’d done it. You’d survived an evening with Frankie and avoided fighting or fucking him.

You were on your third glass when the doorbell rang, scrunching your face in confusion when you see the time. Who would be at your door at midnight? Getting to your feet you make your way to the front door, not even bothering to look through the peephole. You were not expecting who was on the other side.

‘What are you doing here Frankie?’ You ask, imitation saturating your tone.

‘Why did you blank me tonight?’

‘Are you fucking serious?’ You scoff as you shake your head and push the door, looking up when it's stopped by his foot.

‘What have I done?’

You throw your arms up in exasperation and make your way back to the kitchen to pour more wine. You were going to need it if you were going to have this conversation.

‘How’s Emily?’ You ask, venom dripping from each word ‘Was surprised she wasn’t there.‘

‘She’s away with her sister.’ He answers, brow furrowed in confusion ‘What does that have to do with how you blanked me?’

‘Did it hurt?’ You growl, taking a sip of your wine ‘Did it sting that I didn’t acknowledge you? Didn’t speak to you, pushed you to one side?’

‘Of course, it did.’

‘Well, you know you know how I felt.’

‘Is this because we stopped fucking?’

‘NO!.’ You yell, your anger overflowing now ‘When you got together with her and started to bring her along it was like I no longer existed.’ You continue, nostrils flaring ‘You didn’t speak to me. Didn’t look at me. I was just tossed aside because you found new pussy and it hurt like hell. I helped take care of you when you got shot. Comforted you when your mum died. Took care of you when I found you half-dead on the fucking floor from OD’ing on coke. Yet none of that seemed to matter when she came along.’

‘Is that why you stopped hanging out?’

‘Wow, I’m amazed you even noticed.’ You chuckle, taking a large swig of your wine.

‘Lazo-.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ You growl, no longer appreciating the pet-name he’d gifted you as kids.

‘Look I’m an asshole. I get it... but let's just talk about this.’

‘What’s there to talk about?’ You let your tears fall now ‘You did me a favour really.’ He tilts his head at this ‘I’d been trying to pluck up the courage to tell you that I couldn't keep sleeping with you. You managed to do that for me.’

He took a few ginger steps towards you, cupping your cheek with his hand as he caged you against the kitchen counter. You could feel your heart start to race as you look up at him, already feeling yourself get lost in his brown eyes. You don’t know how it happened but the next thing you know his lips are on yours, clothes tossed haphazardly to the side as Frankie's lifts you onto the counter. You grab his hips and pull him close as he kisses and bites your neck, gasping as he enters you in one swift movement. His thrusts are hard and fast but perfectly angled. Within minutes you peak, screaming his name as he increases the pace. You lie down on the cold, stone, worktop as he rails you, arm slung over your face as he brings on your second orgasm, this one more intense than the last and you pull him right along with you. He collapses bonelessly on your heaving form, kissing your shoulder as you both fight to regain control of your breathing.

‘Fuck I missed this.’ He breathes, finally pulling out and dashing to the downstairs toilet to grab a towel.

When he returns you’re sobbing, your whole body shaking as you rock on the floor of your kitchen.

‘Shit what’s wrong?’

‘You need to go Frankie.’ You cry, our red-rimmed eyes glaring up at him ‘You just cheated and I was a part of that. You need to leave.’

‘Lazo...’

‘GO!.’

He pulls on his clothes and leaves, slamming the door behind him and making everything around it vibrate. You don’t leave your house for the rest of the weekend, spending almost every waking moment crying as you think about what you’d done.

You avoided the group for almost two months. There was no way you could have faced him. No way that you could look her in the eye after he’d fucked you on the counter of your kitchen whilst she was blissfully unaware. You couldn’t avoid it forever though and when Will’s birthday had come around you were stuck. The plan was to head to the usual haunt for some drinks and then maybe move on to a club. He would be there. She probably would be too. You knew you just had to avoid him and all would be well. Everything would be fine.

It was Thursday and you’d been throwing up all week, having to take time off work despite working remotely. You decided then that enough was enough and you paid a visit to your doctor, hoping they’d be able to give you something to kill off whatever this was. After asking the usual questions he took some blood to send off for tests, promising that the results would be with you by the end of the following day. You were curled up on your couch when the email came through with your results, your eyes growing wide when you see what was written beside the word ‘POSITIVE’.

‘There’s no way.’ You say to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief ‘Pregnant?’

Despite the new information at your disposal, you still went out for Will’s birthday and the conversation had taken an unexpected turn from the onset.

‘So how are things with you and Emily Fish?’ Asks Benny as he gives his friend a friendly nudge.

‘She’s pregnant.’ He states, scrubbing a hand over his face and your blood runs cold.

‘Congrats man. That’s great.’ Says Will as he gives him a pat on the shoulder.

‘We’re not sure we’re gonna keep it.’ He states, taking everyone by surprise ‘She doesn’t want kids and I’m not ready.’

You feel bile rising up through your throat and you excuse yourself, practically sprinting to the bathroom as you empty the contents of your stomach. His words echo in your mind ‘I’m not ready.’ You’d not really thought about what you were going to do but there was never any doubt in your mind. You are going to keep it.

‘Everything okay?’ Asks Benny, giving you a concerned look as you made your way back to the table.

‘Yeah... Just been feeling sick all week.’ You reply, taking a swig of your coke ‘I think I’m gonna head home but you guys have fun.’

They all said their goodbyes before you sprinted to the car, falling inside and sobbing loudly. What are you going to do? Do you tell him? You were two months along. You were going to start showing fairly soon. You needed to make a decision. Tell Frankie about the baby and hope he takes it okay. Or not tell him and have this baby alone and he would remain blissfully unaware that he was a father.

~

Chapter 2

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Of Prices Paid

This is kind of long, so maybe check it out on ao3? 

There is a lot to get used to in this immortality business, Nile thinks, as Joe guns the engine and peals away from the lab. No matter how much her brain screams at her to move on, Nile cannot tear her eyes away from the twisted hunk of metal that had been Merrick’s car. Not until Joe turns a corner and it disappears from view. Inside their vehicle, the Guard settles into silence, and at first Nile is grateful for it. No one is trying to gauge how she feels when she is still in shock. No one is trying to debrief her when she can still hear the wind whistling in her ears, when she can still remember the way her skull crawled underneath her skin to piece itself back together.

Nile feels too good for someone that had just rearranged her skeleton, and it seems wrong, in a way, to be sitting here feeling no pain, no exhaustion, no fear. The quiet in the car has a complexity to it Nile can’t quite untangle. It’s woven like a tapestry made of guilt, which roils off Booker like thunder, spun with anger that Nile can feel in the way Nicky sits, his shoulders tense, his hands balled in fists. But it’s like a mirage in the desert, holding its form until it’s looked at up close. When Nile first met the Guard they had felt like a lie, like a fantasy or a dream. She hadn’t understood, hadn’t felt the years they had lived until now. Until she was sitting in this silence; this tired, expansive, comfortable silence. Nile is not used to this kind of prolonged stagnation, the lack of desire to fill empty time with entertainment. But these people beside her are ancient and do not notice they pass full hours just sitting in this car, aware of one another and completely content in that.

Nile distracts herself from the thoughts of blood, the sound of the gunshots, and the ghost of pain that crash around in her head by watching the others. She watches Nicky’s attention flicker between the light in Joe’s curls and the movement of his shoulder, takes note of the small smile that turns Nicky’s lip when he looks in the rearview mirror and finds Joe’s eyes meeting his. Nile watches Booker playing with his rings, his fingers fumbling and trembling. Notices he keeps his sunglasses on even as the sunlight starts to dip below the horizon. Nile inspects the way Andy’s jaw is set, watches her close her eyes, and hears how deliberately she breathes. Nile sees Andy flinch when Joe takes her hand, sees her shoulder slump a little when he turns his head for just a moment, and gives a gentle squeeze. Sees the smile spread briefly across Andy’s face as she nods softly and responds in kind. Nile watches Joe press a soft kiss to Andy’s knuckles, pat the top of her hand, and return his grip to the gear shift.

Nile stretches, uncomfortable and itchy with the blood still caked against her skin. They’d been driving for hours by this point in unfamiliar terrain. She feels a hand press quickly, tentatively against her elbow, and meets Nicky’s gaze. It’s piercing, studious, full of questions, and Nile blinks away the stinging in her eyes. It has been a long time since Nile cried, especially in front of others, and she was not about to start today, in a car full of people she barely knew. Nicolo softens, opens his arms a little in an offer Nile takes. She leans against his side, lets him hold her weight; Nicky wraps an arm around her and kisses the top of her head like her father used to. “We’re almost there,” he says, and Nile is equal parts surprised and not to find the man she read as the most quiet and contemplative of the group is the one to finally break the silence.

“Good,” Nile replies “Cause I’ve had to pee for about an hour now and I was starting to get worried,” The car is filled with laughter like fireworks, explosive but brief. Nile notices how Joe laughs with his whole body, how Andy chuckles under her breath, a timid thing. She sees that Nicky smiles and Booker doesn’t.  

“It’s not another mine is it?” Nile asks as she sits back up, Nicolo returning his arm to his side. “Because I don’t know about ya’ll but I need a stiff drink, a soft bed, and a shower,”

“I can solve the drink problem,” Booker pulls his flask out of his jacket pocket, wiggles it in Nile’s direction. Nile takes a swig, tries to stifle a cough as the whiskey hits her tongue.

“No,” Andy says, biting back a smile “It’s not a mine,”

Ten minutes later, Joe turns down a dirt road. The cottage that sits at the end of the driveway looks straight out of a storybook. It’s roof thatched and slanting, the garden overgrown, Nile half expects a witch to pop out of the front door and welcome them in. Booker is the first out of the car, rushing towards the building before Joe has even finished parking.

“Guess he had to pee too,” Joe remarks bitterly as he jods to the side of the car to open the door for Nile and Nicky, offering his hand to help them stand.

“Such a gentleman,” Nicky says as he untangles himself from the middle seat, takes Joe’s hand,  and pulls him in for a quick kiss. Their fingers are the last thing to part, Nile notices, as Joe heads towards the passenger seat to open Andy’s door. Nicky moves towards the trunk to grab their go-bags and carry them into the house.

“Joe,” Andy scoffs light-heartedly when Joe dips into a bow and extends his hand. Nile pretends not to notice how long it takes Andy to get out of the car, the way her face twists and her breath catches in her throat. Whatever weight had been lifted upon their arrival, upon the promise of sleep comes crashing back down.

“You okay, boss?” Joe asks, but the joy Nile usually recognizes in his voice is not there.

“Yes,” Andy pats his cheek twice with a smile that does not reach her eyes. “Just need to stretch my legs a bit. I thought when we invented cars they’d eliminate some of the more unpleasant aspects of riding horseback. But as it turns out, sitting in the same position for extended periods of time makes my joints stiff whether I’m in stirrups or in shotgun,” Nile knows just as well as Joe that Andy’s giving a bullshit excuse, but she understands Andy’s need for strength in this. “Why don’t you give Nile the tour? I’ll check the perimeter,”

Joe nods and Nile watches the frown fall across his lips as soon as Andy turns away.

“She’s good,” Nile cannot stop herself from saying. “She’ll be fine,”

Joe’s shoulders fold, his hands massage his neck, and when he turns to look at Nile, his eyes shining, she is struck for the first time by how easily, how readily these people choose kindness and honesty. She’s seen the way they tear through a siege, the ruthlessness and the precision of their actions. Yet when Joe looks at her, a man she’s only known for two days, a man she watched a few hours before pop Keane’s spine out of his neck, he seems so worn, so weary, so...vulnerable. So separate from his capabilities in battle.

“You did good today,” Joe kicks the dirt beneath his feet, sending a couple rocks scattering in different directions. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how we would have gotten ourselves out of that one if you hadn’t been there,”

Nile smiles “All I did was untie Andy and jump out a window,”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Joe holds the front door open, and Nile steps through into the bright, inviting warmth of the cottage. “You’ve done a lot for us, for Andy, already. I look forward to getting to know you better. You’re going to make one hell of an addition to the team,”

“Thank you, Joe,”

Joe grins “I’m always here if you want to talk. But for now, let me show you around,”

After a quick pit stop to the bathroom, Joe and Nile walk together through the cottage, and as she listens to Joe, Nile finds it a little easier to accept the new conditions of her life. She watches the way he gestures when he speaks, makes a mental note of all the little details he shares with her, the dates of when the cottage was built and what missions they’d stayed here for. The excitement Nile hears in his voice falters and then falls away all together when Nicky walks by, arms crossed and standing in front of the bathroom door, where the shower has been running for the past few minutes. Joe’s brow furrows and his eyes focus, trained on the back of Nicky’s head, hair matted with his own blood.

“Quel bastardo prenderà tutta l'acqua calda.” Nicky mutters.

Nile bites back a smile as she watches Joe unconsciously turn his body to face Nicky, struggling to find the words he needs to finish his conversation with her. Joe runs his thumb across the ridges of his ring and shakes out his hand.

“Go,” Nile says gently, nods her head towards Nicolo.

“Are you sure?”

“Joe,” Nile gives him a knowing look “Go get your man,”

Joe chuckles, squeezes Nile’s shoulder, and heads toward Nicky. Nile watches the two of them wrap their arms around each other and press their foreheads together, breathing each other in. The intimacy of the action makes Nile worry she’s impeding on their privacy so she pretends to focus on the painting in front of her. They speak to one another, chatting in languages that Nile doesn’t know until she hears Joe say bitterly:

“I’ll kill him,”

“Joe, please.” Nicky pulls away, cups Joe’s face in his hands “He doesn’t deserve to see your anger. He doesn’t deserve anything from you at all.”

“Nicky he-”

“I know what he did,” Nicky shuts the conversation down “He is our family and I love him, but for the time being he has no right to my life, or yours. Booker is young and foolish and desperate still, he does not understand the depth of what he’s done. We will figure out his penance and he will serve it, and then we can move on from this.”

“Nicolo-”

“Che cosa?”

Joe begins to say something, but shakes his head and instead says “Ti amo,”

“ uhibbuka aydan ”

Joe and Nicky separate at the sound of the front door opening. “Who let Booker shower first?” Andy asks, running her fingers through her hair with a sigh. She opens the door to the bathroom, and bends over to pick up Booker’s bloody clothing “Time’s up, Book,” she calls. Andy wordlessly hands Booker a towel, and Nile averts her eyes in embarrassment as Booker, water still running, steps out of the shower stark naked and wraps the towel around himself. Andy places the bundle of his clothes in his hand, “Burn whatever you can’t salvage,” Booker does not meet Andy’s eye, but he nods. “Joe, Nicky, anything you want Booker to get rid of?”

Joe and Nicky head towards the shower, tugging their shirts off over their heads and tossing them to Booker. Booker leaves Nile and Andy alone in the living room. An awkward silence begins to settle between them, but Nile has spent most of the day without words and she’s starting to get tired of it.

“So,” she begins, “How much you spend on clothes?”

Andy raises an eyebrow, “Depends. We buy shirts for our missions in bulk, because it’s cheaper. Dark clothes help with blood stains, because if we don’t get shot we can just...wash them. It’s not always like this,” Andy sighs, cracks her knuckles, and massages her shoulders.

“You know, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that this week,”  

Andy sighs “You arrived at a uniquely...complicated time and I apologize for that,”

“I don’t think you need to apologize for what happened today. I figured my life was gonna get complicated the minute I was pistol whipped in Afghanistan and woke up in the trunk of some white lady’s armored vehicle, driving through the desert.”

“Yeah, can’t say after all these years that I’m the subtle type,”

“No shit.” Nile smiles, picks dust from under her fingernails. “Were you friends with Heinsberg or something?”

Andy’s eyes are bright and her grin energetic and genuine in a way Nile hadn’t Andy was still capable of. “No, I just likes to sow chaos,”

They chat for a few minutes about nothing in particular. Nile asks about the sculptures on the table, Andy asks about her friends back in Afghanistan. Nile is struck by how natural it seems for her to exist in this space. Andy seems more relaxed than she has in days, Nile can see it in the way she stands, the ease at which conversation flows. The sound of the shower quiets, and the door to the bathroom opens.

“Nile, would you like to go next?” Nicky asks.

“Sure,”

“We left a towel in there for you,” Joe adds.

“Thanks,”

There is a sound of a door opening and closing, and all eyes in the room turn to look at Booker. “I brought you some clothes,” he hands the pile to Nile, and one to Andy, and for a moment Nile cannot help but think that he looks small.

“Joe and I are going to change, and I’ll have dinner started by the time you’re done,” Nicky says, his back to Booker.

Nile nods and closes the door, wipes the steam clinging to the bathroom mirror away, and strips herself down. She takes a moment to look at herself, touches the blood caked to the side of her head, runs a finger down her arm where her bone had been sticking out just a few days before. She looks at her foot, no evidence of an entry or exit wound from the bullet she’d shot into it a few hours ago. She presses a hand to her neck, traces a line down the carotid. The first wound that should have killed her and no scar to prove it. She forces herself to think about something else, singing songs in her head to drive off the existential crisis she can feel brewing. Just a few hours ago she had jumped from 15 stories, felt the blood rush to her head, felt the pain shudder through her body like lightning as a car bent itself beneath her. She had taken lives, and in doing so committed herself to an eternity of slaughter.

She turns the shower on, waits for it to run warm. Within a minute she can hear the muffled sounds of shouting, an argument she wouldn’t have been able to understand even if she had wanted to. She sticks her head beneath the stream, watches as the water turns pink beneath her feet. She massages shampoo into each cornrow, making a mental note to pick up some supplies the next time they were anywhere near civilization. This bathroom was not stocked with her hair texture or skin type in mind. She scrubs herself down with the washcloth they had left her by the sink. Wonders to herself as she hangs the cloth up to dry how many gallons of bleach the Guard must go through after missions. Free of blood, Nile conditions her hair, turns off the shower, and pats herself dry. She finds no moisturizers, no lotions, no oils or gels in the bathroom cabinets, slips into the clothing Booker has given her, and steps into the living room.

“You could have just volunteered yourself,” Joe is standing in the kitchen when Nile returns. “There was absolutely no need to sell us all out,”

“I wasn’t trying to sell you out,” Booker exclaims, and Nile realizes there are advantages to the lack of questioning she’s been subjected to. Mostly that she hasn’t had time to tell anyone she grew up speaking French. “If he could get your DNA then it’s possible he could have figured out a way to-”

“Sebastian,” Andy sighs “stop,”

It is a testament to her command, the respect and reverence these old friends have for one another that Andy need not raise her voice to be heard over shouting. Booker deflates, unscrews the top of his flask and takes a swig “Oh. No need to stop on my account.” Nile’s voice fills the sudden silence “I can hang out somewhere else. I was just looking for a plastic bag. I’ve got conditioner in that has to sit for twenty minutes and need to wrap my head,”

“I’m not. You’re a member of this team now, Nile,” Andy responds, “You should be a part of every conversation that we have. I’m just...tired, and hungry, and covered in blood, I want to shower, and honestly, I don’t care what Booker has to say about his choices right this very minute. I think we should just eat dinner and pick this particular conversation up in the morning,”

“Sure, boss,” Booker and Joe speak together, and Nile watches Nicky whisper low to Joe, slip something into his hand, and push him out of the kitchen. He wipes his fingers on the hand towel sitting on his shoulder, and stirs whatever canned good he’d put on the stove to warm.

“Here’s that bag,” Joe places it gently on her head, it feels familiar, familial in a way that almost knocks Nile off her feet with homesickness.

“Thanks,”

“Okay, I’m going to get cleaned up,” Andy inches towards the bathroom. “Nicky and Joe, finish cooking and set the table. Booker, get the rooms ready. Nile, put your feet up, watch some TV, decompress a little, you’ve earned it,”

Before she can fully process the request, Nile finds herself alone in the foyer. While she’s searching for the remote, Nile realizes that the shower has not started up. She knocks softly on the bathroom door and looks over her shoulder to make sure no one else is paying attention. Nicky and Joe are bickering with one another about the addition of salt to the dish they are preparing, and Booker is nowhere to be seen so she asks a question.

“Andy, you okay in there?”

It takes a moment for her to respond, “I’m fine,” a comment she punctuates with a sharp inhale of breath.

“You sure about that?” Nile pries “Do you wanna give me your dirty laundry?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Andy replies, which she follows rather quickly with a quiet “fuck,”

“Andy, do you need help?”

“I–” Andy stops herself “No,”

Nile doesn’t believe her. “Andy, I know everything hurts. I know you’re worried about what we’re all going to think, but let me make it clear. I don’t care, I don’t pity you, and I won’t judge. I’ve been immortal for like...four days. If you’re bleeding or bruised I’m not gonna freak or feel bad about it. I’d honestly be more creeped out if you were completely fine.” Nile puts a hand on the doorknob and lowers her voice. “It just, sounds like you need help, and there is no point in causing yourself potential harm for the sake of appearances,”

The door opens and Andy drags Nile into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind them. “I just don’t want the guys to worry.” Andy says.

“I know,”

“I kind of wish Booker had just killed me with that gunshot.” Andy winces as she tries to remove her shirt. Nile helps Andy untangle her arms from the sleeves, tosses the shirt onto the floor. “This whole mortality thing is kind of a pain in the ass.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Nile teases.

Andy smirks “You’re so kind,”

“I’m sorry...did you want sympathy?” she asks, Andy kicks off her shoes and her pants, grabbing Nile’s arm to steady herself.

“No,” Andy laughs “No I did not,”

“I think we should get that looked at,” Nile moves on, pointing to the bandage on Andy’s abdomen, soaked with blood. “Looks like you re-opened the bullet wound.”

“I’m not going to the hospital,”

“Okay well, let’s just get the blood off of you first, and go from there. I feel like we should try not to get it wet though.”

“Fine, just...help me into the tub,” Nile holds Andy’s weight, pretends not to see the way Andy grits her teeth when she steps over the rim. She lowers herself down until she is sitting in the bottom of the tub, and reaches for a washcloth and some soap. Andy’s body is riddled with cuts and bruises, and Nile understands why Andy was hesitant to ask for help. It’s a pretty gruesome sight, even for someone who was expecting injury.

Andy sighs, a deep, exhausting thing, and leans against the back of the tub. She dips the washcloth in the water, lathers it up with soap and starts to scrub at the parts of her skin that are not tender. Nile closes the toilet seat and sits herself down.

“So…while you have me trapped here, in pain and unable to stand, do you have any other pressing questions about immortality, or...anything really?”

Nile chews her lip, feels her cheeks get warm “I’ll be this age forever, right?”

“Yup,”

“Does that mean....okay this is gonna sound stupid,” Nile closes her eyes so she won’t have to see Andy’s face when she asks “Will I still get my period?”

“Oh no,” Andy chuckles “God no. Your body heals itself, so there is no tissue to shed. If I still got my period I probably would have tried harder to end my immortality. Can you imagine thousands of years of that shit?”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to,”

Andy wrings out the blood and dirt from her washcloth, and tries to reach behind her to scrub at her back. She bites back a cry of pain, the water rushing through the tub spout drowns out whatever sound escapes her lips. Nile takes the cloth wordlessly, begins to wipe the grime away from Andy’s skin “How many times have you died?”

“Lost count,” Andy stares at her feet. “At least two thousand, probably more,”

“How many times have you blown yourself up?”

“Five,”

“Only five?”

“Blown myself up or been blown up?”

“Blown up,”

“Then probably...forty,”

“What is the weirdest way you’ve died?”

“I ate mercury,”

“What?”

“Joe dared me too,”

“Most embarrassing way you’ve ever died?”

“Are all your questions going to be about my deaths?”

“How old are you?”

“Around sixty-five hundred. My foot got tangled in the sling of a trebuchet as I was helping place the payload and I got hurtled into the sky,”

“Have you ever tried to figure out why this is happening?”

“How would I do that?”

“I don’t know, but...aren’t you curious?”

“No,” Andy’s voice isn’t dismissive when she replies.

“Why don’t you believe in God?”

“I told you before, there was a time that I was worshipped as a God, but I’m just a person who has a hard time making death stick to her. I can’t shape the world, I can’t heal the sick, I can only kill,”

“And save,”

Andy looks at Nile and there is something in her eyes Nile doesn’t know how to decipher. “Regardless, having been a God to some sorry fuckers thousands of years ago, I have a hard time thinking that any part of it is real. As old as I am and as travelled as I’ve been, I’ve seen many religions rise and fall around all different types of Gods. And while I understand the comfort of prayer, community, and worship, it just hard for me to think that God exists when I see something so many people have believed in and have devoted themselves to disappear within a few decades. But you can believe whatever you want, I’m sorry if I was harsh about your religion before,”

“I appreciate that,” Nile’s hand freezes as she goes to scrub the dirt from Andy’s shoulders and finds a stab wound sitting there instead, cut deep and oozing. “Where did you get this?”

“Goussainville,”

“Its bleeding,”

“Is it?”

“Okay Andy, first of all, you can’t keep shit like this from anyone anymore. Secondly– and I can’t believe I have to ask this question –do you have bandages here? A first aid kit?”

“Yes, in my bag. I bought some the other night,”

“I’ll go grab it,” Nile hands Andy the shampoo and conditioner and slips out of the bathroom to go in search of medical equipment. Joe and Nicky look up from their work and raise their eyebrows quizzically. Nile pretends she doesn’t see them.

Booker is precariously balancing a stack of bedsheets when Nile comes into the room. “Have you seen Andy’s bag?” she asks him. Booker’s eyes are red when he looks up at her.

“Um, yeah,” he throws the sheets down, roots through the pile of bags on the floor. “Here,”

“Thanks,” Nile’s replies, her voice hesitant. She looks Booker over as she sifts through the bag. “How are you?”

“I didn’t mean to…” Booker seems desperate “I didn’t know,”

“She knows,”

“I thought I- it doesn’t matter,” Booker shakes his head. “I should have realized they would lie,”

“I know you think you were doing something good,” Nile says carefully. “But that wasn’t a choice you made with everyone, it’s a choice you made for everyone. Booker, if you have to kidnap your friends to get them to do something, maybe it wasn’t a good idea in the first place,”

“You’re right…” Booker plays with the edge of the folded bed sheets, not meeting her eyes. “We’ve all done things to piss each other off before, but this is really bad. I don’t know what I’m gonna do...what they’re gonna do,”

“I don’t either,” Nile finds the first aid kit, and leaves Booker alone. Andy is washing the suds out of her hair when Nile returns. “Anyone have medical training?”

“Nicky,”

“Are you okay with having him look at you? You have to be more careful now,”

“I know,”

“You think you know, but you haven’t been mortal in...over six thousand years. You can push yourself an awful lot, but you can’t ignore your injuries. When was the last time you had an infection? Or had to take medication?”

“Fine,” Andy sighs “Let me put on some pants.” Nile helps Andy out of the tub, turns the water cold and rinses the conditioner out of her hair as Andy dries herself off, struggles into her underwear and sweatpants.

“Nicolo,” Andy pokes her head out of the door “Vieni qui per favore,”

Without hesitation, Nicky joins them in the bathroom, “Everything okay, Andy?”

“Nile is worried I may need medical attention. She hasn’t taken any bandages off but she said there was blood on them and is concerned that I may have ripped my stitches, or whatever the hell it was they did to me,”

“Also she has a stab wound she didn’t tell anyone about on her shoulder,”

Nicky turns to look at Nile, then back to Andy, he raises his eyebrow slightly, and shakes his head when Andy shrugs. “I’m assuming it is okay for me to examine you?”

“Yeah,”

Nile watches Nicky work, how delicately he removes her bandages, the intensity of his stare as he analyzes the damage. “The stitches have definitely slipped,” he presses his hand to Andy’s stomach, rolling his palm slightly around her abdomen and then close to where her bruises have started to bloom. “You don’t have a rigid abdomen, so there’s probably not internal bleeding. Let me see the others,” Andy complies, resting her chin upon her hands, rolling her neck until it cracks. “The back seems to have slipped as well, and the shoulder one is a little too old for stitches. I don’t have sutures here, but I could glue it if you want,”

“Do you still need me?” Nile asks, a little woozy.

“I’ve got her,” Nicky replies.

Nile leaves the room and nearly jumps out of her skin when Booker and Joe rush to her “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Nile pours herself a glass of wine. “It’s all good,”

Booker and Joe finish setting the table and they all prepare themselves for dinner. Nicky and Andy join them soon after they have sat down to eat. Over dinner, the attention turns to Nile, she is attacked from all sides with all the burning questions the immortals have about her life. Joe learns of Nile’s interest in art history and spends the rest of the meal excitedly telling her fun facts about every famous artist they’d ever met. Nile sits on the kitchen counter while the others wash the dishes. She listens to them hum snippets of long forgotten songs, and marvels at the way they move around one another without needing to speak. They are more than just a team, more than just a family, Nile realizes as Joe starts up a gramophone. When they are all together they are a single living organism.

Booker tries to offer her more wine and Joe tries to pull her, gently, off the countertop so he can teach her how to swing dance. Nile is not exactly shy, and under different circumstances she knows she would have participated more in the evening's festivities. But for tonight, Nile stays rooted in place, as a casual observer of their joy. Nile feels happier than she has in months, as she watches them drink, as Joe prays, and as the old friends dance together. A promise of what this life could be. The evening begins to calm and Andy, skin flushed and pupils dilated, and Booker head to bed.

“You coming?” Joe asks Nicky, who has been sitting at the dining room table, propping his head up with his hand, reading a book.

“Later,” Nicky looks up from the page “I’d like to read for a bit,”

“Okay,” Joe presses a kiss to Nicky’s temple “Goodnight,”

“Night, love,”

Nile moves to sit on the living room couch, rests her arms on her knees, hangs her head so she can focus on the floor. She finally lets herself breathe, lets herself think about everything that she just went through. The burning pinch of the bullets that riddled her, the way her bones felt moving underneath her skin, the smell of blood and dust. She thinks of the man that killed her, the way life had left his eyes, how Andy had a similar look in her eye when the two of them peered out the broken window in Merrick’s penthouse. She runs her hands across her head, rubs the tears from her eyes. She needs to think, to make a decision. The longer she stays here the harder it is for her to justify leaving. This is a family, not hers, not yet, but she knows how easily it could be. She pulls out her phone, spends too long staring, blurry eyed at photos of her family. She thinks about her brother, his passion, his joy, and his sadness. She thinks of her mother, how hard she had worked to provide them a life they could be proud of, how determined she was to be happy despite the wrongs the world had handed her. She thinks of the emptiness that consumed their family when her father died, how badly her mother’s hand had shaken when she’d closed the door behind the officers that had delivered the news. Could she put her family through that again? Could she put her mother through that?

“I made you some hot chocolate,” Nicky places a steaming mug down on the coffee table. Nile blinks up at Nicky, so wrapped up in her own head she hadn’t fully processed what he’d said to her.

“Oh.” Nile sits up a little straighter “Thank you,”

“Could I join you?”

“Sure,” Nile holds the mug between her hands and lets the heat spread across her fingers.

“I’m not sure that it tastes very good, but sometimes all you need is a little warmth,”

“Thank you, Nicky,”

“Of course,” he takes a sip of his own drink. “How are you feeling about all of this, Nile?”

Nile sighs “Honestly? I have no idea,”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what I want, I’m not sure what to do,”

“Do about what?”

“Any of it– All of it.” Nile watches the ceiling fan circle, searching for the right words “I’m not sure how to feel about this immortality business. I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet, it still feels like a dream. I keep pinching myself just to see if I’ll wake up. I’ve died four times in the last week, I keep having nightmares, and I just,” Nile’s lip trembles “I just want my Mom, you know?”

“I do,” he admits “They don’t tell you when you train for battle how many people will die crying out for their mothers. In times of strife, in times of fear, we want that which will bring us comfort.  I’ve lived for nine-hundred years, and time has eaten away at a lot of my memories. I can’t remember what my mother looks like, but some days I am hit with an overpowering wave of melancholy knowing that I will never see her again. I can still remember how it felt, the first couple of times. How terrifying it was, how isolating, and every time I came back to life I thought of her, I wanted her to be there to tell me it was okay. But at the time I thought there was a devil in me, so I never let myself go back.” Nicky turns the full force of his attention towards Nile, and though every action he performs is gentle and controlled, Nile shrinks under the pressure of his gaze. “You’re an incredibly strong person, Nile,”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be,”

“You don’t always,”

Nile stifles a laugh, because Nicky means well, but he just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know what it is like to wear her skin, to grow up where she did. And while she has no doubt he’s faced trials and tribulations, and had his fair share of hate spewed at him, no amount of time on Earth will ever let him understand what she means. “I think I want to go home,”

“Why?”

“I want a better goodbye. I want to hear my mother’s voice again, I want to hug her one last time,”

“And what purpose does that serve?”

“I don’t know…” Nile shrugs, she looks to Nicky with lost eyes. “I don’t want them to suffer, I don’t want them to have to mourn me,”

“What happens if they start to realize you aren’t aging?”

“I leave,”

“And cause them pain,” under different circumstances, Nile would have thought this point was cruel, but to Nicky it’s a matter of fact. It is not a question, it is not a hypothetical, it’s merely...truth.

“I know what it was like, after my Dad died. I don’t know that I can put them through that,”

“You’ll have to do it eventually. You just have to decide whether you cause them misery now, or later,”

“I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye,” Nile’s voice cracks.

“Nile,” Nicky takes her hand, brushes a tear from her cheek, “No one ever is,”

“Ugh sorry,” Nile takes a raggedy breath, sniffles, and forces herself to smile, though it falters for a moment. “I don’t normally cry,”

“Why not?”

“It makes me feel weak, it makes me feel vulnerable,”

“But neither of those things are true,” Nicky takes a sip of his drink, “could I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,”

“Why did you come back?”

“What?”

Nicky’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to find the words. “When Andromache and Booker were brought into the lab, we asked after you, wanting to make sure you were okay, you were safe. I don’t think any of us would have forgiven ourselves if you had been captured too. Andy said that you had left, that you wanted to get as much time as you could with your family before the immortality caught up to you. We didn’t know if we’d ever see you again....until you came bursting through that door,” Nile feels her cheeks go warm “So...why? What caused you to come back?”

Nile examines the contents of the mug between her fingers, takes a sip to wash the tremble out of her voice. “Right before I left, Andy handed me her pistol and told me to get rid of the weapons before I got on a train. When I went to toss them, I noticed the clip was empty. Booker was the one that prepped that gun for her, so I knew something was up,”

“Ok,” Nicky surveys Nile’s face “But that doesn’t answer my question,”

“It doesn’t?”

“No,” Nicky’s lips turn up in the ghost of a smile “Just seeing that gun doesn’t mean you have to come back for us. We basically kidnapped you to get you to come here. You’ve only known us for a few days, you have no obligation to us. You could have looked at that gun, thought something was wrong, and then gone back to your family anyway. But instead...you chose to save us, even after our broken promises. Andy told you we’d keep you safe, and we left you alone, exposed, and in the open,”

“It’s not your fault,”

“I know,” Nicky runs a hand through his hair.

“How did you know about what Andy said to me anyway?”

“She was beating herself up about it in the lab,” Nicky states. “You don’t have to tell me if you do not wish too, Nile. I was just curious,”

“No,I–”  Nile stares straight ahead of her when she says it, focusing her attention on the front door. “It was Quynh,”

“Quynh?” Nicky asks, and Nile nods, forcing herself to face this kind man who asked hard questions.

“And you,”

“Me?”

“You were right. When I first saw the gun I thought about just leaving, figured that whatever was happening you’d have the time to get out of it on your own. But then I thought of Quynh, of feeling her drown over and over; the wildness of it, the insanity. And I thought of what you told me the other night, your fear of capture, of spending an eternity in a box. Feeling what Quynh felt– feels,” Nile corrects herself “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I knew I couldn’t leave you all to that potential future.”

Nicky sizes Nile up and though he smiles warmly at her, she feels like he is staring right into her soul. It’s not uncomfortable, just unexpected, Nile takes another sip of her hot chocolate to break the eye contact. When Nile looks at him again his body seems heavy, he’s staring at nothing in particular and rubbing his wrist absentmindedly.

“How ‘bout you? Are you okay?”

Nicky shakes his head and it takes him a minute to say anything at all “I don’t think so,”

“Were you scared?”

“Only for a moment, when they injected me and Joe with something and I thought they might separate us.”

“But they didn’t,”

“No. I did have to watch him tortured though,”

“I’m so sorry,”

“I’d throw myself in front of every danger to keep him from being hurt,” Nicky admits “And I couldn’t spare him from the pain,”

“Is that why you haven’t said a word to Booker since we left the lab?”

“We had some time to question him,” Nicky says after a moment of contemplation “when they got into the lab. Joe was pretty busy yelling at him, but Booker told us he hadn’t meant for it to go like this. He’d been promised answers to his existence, a potential cure to his immortality, a way to die before his time. He thought that we could all get some answers, that we would all want a way to end this cursed existence.” Nicky runs his hand over his face, looking to Nile with tired eyes. “I have never had a child, so I do not know what it is like to lose one. Much less three. I know Booker is hurt and lonely, and I cannot begin to understand the pain he must have felt having watched his children fade away, without being able to stop it. But he is wrong about us.  

Nicky turns to look behind him to the doorway where Joe is sleeping. “I’ve always had Joe, and Joe has always had me. For Booker, who has seen it all slip away from him, that seems like a blessing, and I don’t disagree. But,” Nicky scratches the back of his head “we have watched each other die over and over again for 900 years. And every time I see him die, I have to wait with grief spreading through my chest before I can reign it in, and hope that he moves again, that I can see him breathe. I throw myself in front of danger to protect Joe all the time, and I do it so that he does not have to suffer the wounds, but there is a part of me that does it because I am selfish. I hope that I will die before him so I do not have to bear losing him forever. I get a taste of what my life would be like without him by my side every time I watch him die, and I know I would be lost. Booker thinks the weight of immortality does not fall upon our shoulders, thinks that because Joe and I have always had each other that we walk on air, oblivious to the harsh realities, the objective truths of living as long as we have. He believes we do not know the loneliness, but Joe and I have lived every day with Death’s scythe above our heads. Booker and Andy do not have a monopoly on the tragedy, self-pity, or loathing that comes with what we do or...what we are. I am just as angry and tired as the rest of them, and there are times I wish I would just die, same as them. But, I make an active choice every single day to not succumb to the pressure. I choose to believe there is a reason for this, that this life has purpose, that we are doing good. I believe Joe makes this life worth it, but so does Andy, so does Booker, Quynh, and Lykon would have too had he lived long enough for us to know him. Booker thinks he is alone, because he does not see all of the wonderful people around him for the gift they are.

“What’s that advice people like to tell children? ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?’ I haven’t said anything to Booker since the lab because I’m angry. I am angry that we were captured, I’m angry at the fear I felt, however brief, over what could have happened had you not been the incredibly kind and compassionate young woman you are. I’m angry that Joe and I bore most of the consequences of Booker’s lapse in judgement. And it’s not anger he deserves, because I believe it was a mistake, I don’t think he would have done it had he known the extent of Merrick’s masochism. I don’t even think I would be mad if it had just been me. But it was Joe the guards beat in the van, it was Joe that Merrick stabbed. Booker never had to suffer the consequences of his own suicide attempt. Perhaps I am being too harsh, but for the moment I have other things to worry about.” Nicky clears his throat, holds his mug between his hands.

“Andy?”

Nicky’s sigh carries centuries on it “Andromache has lived a long life, longer than I can even fathom. She’s done a lot of good in this world, and she deserves the rest. I want to keep her around as long as possible, but I’m happy for her that sometime within the next sixty years or so she will finally know peace. It just….hurts,” Nicky stands, offers to take Nile’s cup “But these are the tired musings of an old man, I probably should not have offered you so much of my burden,”

“I asked,”

“You are a good person, Nile. I’m very glad to know you,”

“So are you,”

“Nile,” Nicky puts the mugs down to dry and says in a voice so low Nile isn’t quite certain she heard it correctly. “Could I give you a hug?”

“I guess?”

Nicky’s arms are strong, and certain when he pulls her in, and while he holds her the ground seems sturdy beneath her feet for the first time since she woke up in that hospital bed. “Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing her tighter “for saving my family,”

“Nicolo,” Joe is standing in the doorway, squinting against the light in the living room. His curls are messy, his beard is ruffled, and Nile has to keep herself from laughing at how adorable he looks.

“Trouble sleeping?” Nicky asks, he says it like it’s a joke, but Nile knows it isn’t.

“I was just thinking how cute I looked laying in that bed, and I would hate to deny you the opportunity to watch me sleep,” Joe winks, his face lighting up in a smile.

“I’ll be in in just a moment, Yusuf, va bene?”

“nem,” Joe disappears back into the bedroom.

Nicky turns back to Nile, and much like Joe’s earlier, when his eyes meet hers, they shine. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I think so, are you?”

“I am,” Nicky squeezes Nile’s arm, his right lip pulling upwards “Goodnight, Nile,”

“Night,” she replies as Nicky follows Joe into the other room. While Nile is tired her mind is still working too quickly to settle for the evening, so instead she spends some time pacing the living room. She thinks about the days, about the Guard. Though they live forever, Nile has seen the way they come alive around each other, has seen the love they share. This is a family, she has no doubt, and one she will be lucky to one day feel a part of. When she plugs her phone in to charge, she feels the need to study her mother’s face, to try to commit it to her memory. She leans against the doorframe to the bedroom the others are all sharing, a bed made beautifully at the end, just for her. If Nile hadn’t just spent the last few years sleeping next to a dozen fellow soldiers she’d think that it was weird they always seemed to share a room. She looks at Booker, snoring lightly in his bed, even asleep his face is full of sorrow. At Andy, who is curled up on her right side, eyes flickering rapidly beneath her eyelids, face peaceful. She cannot tell where Joe ends and Nicky begins, the two of them a pile of legs and arms, nestled together warm and close. Nile turns off the lights, fumbles her way in the darkness to the bed, it’s a little lumpy, but much more comfortable than the cot she’s been sleeping in recently. She stares up at the ceiling, listens to the others breathe until she slips into unconsciousness.

That night she does not dream of Quynh, nor the men that she has killed. Instead, she dreams of her father’s combat boots, of the folded flag that hangs above the front door. She dreams of her brother, of the music he’s been working on. She dreams of her father, and feels like she is flying when he lifts her and places her on his shoulders. She dreams of shag carpet against her skin as she sits between her mother’s legs, as her mother braids her hair and calls her beautiful, and reminds her that there is so much life to be lived outside Chicago. “Look,” her mother says, and holds up a mirror. Inside it Nile sees Afghanistan, sees Gousainville, and London. “You have so many more adventures ahead of you,” her mother says, leaning forward so Nile’s cheek is pressed against her own. “Go find them,”

Nile wakes up in the morning to the sound of muffled laughter and makes her choice.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Question

The Pool | The Difference | The Notes | The Fear | The Thought | Masterlist Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Explicit - 18+ only Warnings: None? Besides cursing. Notes: Fluffy! Fluffy! Most of these going forward are going to be fluffy. Most. Summary: How the hell does this man still give you butterflies? You’re flustered in the middle of your own damn kitchen and he isn’t even there.

You wake up alone. You don’t like that, but it happens sometimes. You and Borracho don’t exactly have regular hours, it’s not like criminals keep their shenanigans to a 9-5 schedule. You used to be a light sleeper when it came to sleeping with someone else, but with Borracho… Hell, you don’t know if it’s how quietly he’s able to move or how safe you feel with him, but you almost never wake up when he gets out of bed. You pick up your phone and shut off the alarm; no texts, no calls from him or the guys, so things are probably status quo. You don’t have to be in the office for another hour. You slide out of bed and head into the kitchen. You’re alone, but you still smile when you see that he’s made you coffee and left you a post-it. ‘Got called into work early. See you later. Love you, sweetness. -B’

You shake your head a little bit, running your thumb over the ink. How the hell does this man still give you butterflies? You’re flustered in the middle of your own damn kitchen and he isn’t even there. Oh, but you can practically hear him saying it, too. And the fact that he even stopped to write a note-- You shake your head and stick it to the fridge under a magnet, alongside a few other notes he’s left you in the apartment. You’re smiling all through your first cup of coffee, as you get ready to go in, as you get in your car that morning. You usually try not to text Borracho when you know he’s out on the job - you don’t wanna distract him, and there’s a chance the guys’ll see it and get on both your cases, but you decide to risk it that morning. You pull your phone out and text him, I love you

It’s a few minutes before you get back, Wanna go out tonight?   You raise a brow. Is this man up to something? 

Big plans? taking us on a tour of a hot sauce factory

I’m pretty sure you’re making fun of me and I don’t appreciate it. 

love you

Love you too --

It’s the usual crew at the office - though Borracho is noticeably absent. You don’t ask, is the thing, but Nick makes it a point to tell you that Borracho is out getting a statement from a witness. You nod a little bit and say, “...Okay,” Before turning back to your work. You swear up and down that you hear Henderson asking Conners if you bought that, but you try not to read into it. You’re sure you heard them wrong; if something was wrong with Borracho, they’d tell you. Besides, you’ve already talked to him today, you know he’s alright. But while you’re in the office, you notice the guys muttering to each other way more than usual. You can’t help but wonder if this is what they would’ve been like if you’d left your headphones out those first couple of weeks on the job. Headphones-- Your headphones, of course. The second you’ve got those suckers in, the guys’ll speak up at full volume. You open the desk drawer that you usually keep them in. Your jaw drops at the sight of another post-it. 

Looking for something? ;) -B You’d told Borracho that you found out about most of the pools because of your little headphone trick. But why the hell has he taken them today? You close your drawer, narrowing your eyes. Oh, something is definitely up. -- “Really, you haven’t seen him all day?” Isobel asks. You glance up from where you’re bouncing her son on your knee. You’ve stopped by after work; you’ve got a little time before you need to be home to get ready. “Nope,” You shrug, “He got called into work early, and-- I don’t know, Nick said he was out speaking to a witness. We texted a little, but he’s been pretty busy today. We’re going out later, though.” “Ooo,” Nadia coos from behind you, where she’s feeding Lissie, “Do you know where?” “No idea, he hasn’t told me… I mean, he joked about a hot sauce factory, but the ones around here don’t have late tours.” You may or may not have checked while you were at work. His sisters are snickering at you already; they’ve seen you at barbecues, they know about the hot sauce packets you keep in your purse. You smile, laughing a little yourself. “It’ll be nice to go out, though. We haven’t had, like, a date-date in a while,” You realize it as you say so. Honestly, you haven’t really thought much of it; it’s not like you mind spending the night in with Borracho, you’re never bored. “...You know, you’re the first girl Borracho brought home in a really long time?” Nadia says, lowering herself into the seat beside Isobel. You raise a brow. You haven’t heard this before. “Really? How long?” “Oof,” Isobel mutters, “Jeez, the last would’ve been-- What, Angela?” “Which one was Angela? Highlights or lip piercing?” Nadia asks. “Lip piercing.” “Like, almost four years-ish?” Nadia offers. “‘Lip piercing’?” You repeat, amused, “I think I’ve got more questions about who ‘highlights’ was-- And what my attribute would be if you were describing me to someone else.” -- “No wig tonight?” You glance back at Borracho, arching a brow as he leans in the doorway of the bathroom. The pink wig you’d worn to the club a long time ago has made a reappearance a few times since you’d started dating. “Not tonight, babe,” You chuckle before you lean forward to do your eyeliner. You lean away from the mirror once you're finished, putting the cap back on the liner. Borracho steps into the bathroom, smoothing his hands over your hips. He presses a kiss to your neck before he cuddles up against you. You giggle, tipping your head to the side. “Maybe next time,” You add.

“I ain’t picky,” Borracho mumbles. You turn in his arms. “Gimme a kiss before I put my lipstick on,” You order. Borracho smiles.

“You sayin’ you’re not gonna kiss me once it’s on?”

“Oh, I’m absolutely gonna. Kiss me anyway,” You retort. You lean up, pecking Borracho’s lips a few times. His smile widens with each until he catches your lips with his. He lifts a hand from your hip, sliding it over your back. You sigh, leaning into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. You aren’t sure what it is, but something feels different about tonight. It isn’t how Borracho watched you get ready; he does that often. But this just feels sweet - so deliciously soft and slow. You can’t put your finger on it - but you aren’t rushing to, either. You just revel in Borracho’s warmth and closeness. He hums softly, squeezing your hip gently before he lifts his head, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Finish getting ready, we’ll be late.”

“Or you could keep kissing me,” you mumble the argument against his chin. Borracho chuckles, cupping your chin and pecking your lips again.

“Later, sweetness.” -- “You don’t think we’re actually going to a hot sauce factory, right?” “No, of course not,” You scoff. “...You checked whether or not there were any open, didn’t you.” “...Might’ve taken a look.” Boraccho laughs, raising your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of yours. “Why?” You add, glancing over at him. “Couldn’t bear to break your heart like that.” --

The thing is, you guys had discussed it a few more times - the whole marriage thing. You’d never set a hard date, a deadline. You weren’t going to disappear if a ring wasn’t stuck on your finger within the next year or anything. But the last time you’d spoken about it seriously had been after Borracho had been shot. “I hated not being able to get back there and see you were alright for myself,” You’d admitted, “And-- Look, I love your family, but-- If anything like that ever happens again and they make me wait three fucking days to see you, Benny, I swear to god--” “I know,” He’d mumbled into your hair, “I know, and-- this is gonna sound shitty, but they were testing you, a little. I’ve had a couple of other girlfriends that saw me that way and couldn’t handle it. They wanted to see if you’d stick around.” You’d humphed, and snuggled deeper into his side. And he’d hesitated before saying, “If we were married, you would’ve been able to see me right away.” You’d glanced up at him and murmured, “I know.” “...Still think my sisters would kill us if we eloped?” “You know they would.” -- Beyond that, well, you hadn’t spoken about it much. At least, not with Borracho. You had with his sisters, looking back on it - about what kind of rings you liked (Megan and Isobel had each asked you if you liked theirs - Megan’s was a little too flashy for you; Isobel’s was close to what you liked in stone and size). You’d even tried Regina’s on (“For fun, honey, I’m curious,” She’d pressed you. It had been half a size too small). You didn’t think anything about it, though. You’d grown incredibly close with his family. “Aw, so sweet!” Nadia had cooed, seeing someone on tv propose to their girlfriend on the big screen at a football game, “Would you ever like something like that?” “Nah,” You’d wrinkled your nose, shaking your head, “So impersonal -- all those people staring at you. Plus-- Football?” The face you’d made had Nadia in stitches. 

-- 

The two of you have dinner at one of your favorite restaurants. Borracho’s hand is in yours nearly all night, holding it in the car, on the table, on the way in and out of the restaurant. After dinner, the two of you drive up to the Hollywood Bowl Overlook. He shuts off the car, and the two of you talk and make out lazily like a couple of teenagers. His hand smooths over your thighs and your stomach and your shoulder and your side; you tug at his hair and slide your hand under his collar and smooth your fingers over his tattoo. It’s like you were when you were getting ready - sweet, unhurried, soft. But you want to be home, and you want to take him apart at your leisure, without worrying about getting caught or being crammed uncomfortably in the front seat of the car, and you tell him as much. Borracho chuckles softly and slides his lips along yours in a half-kiss before murmuring, “Whatever you want, sweetness.” 

--

You cuddle up against him as you wait for him to unlock the front door, slipping your hands under his t-shirt and running your nails over his sides. He huffs and fumbles with the keys a little, and you hide your grin in his shoulder.

“Having some trouble there?” You tease, smoothing your palms over the same spots.

“You’re a menace, sweetness,” He mutters before opening the door. You slide your hands out from his shirt so that the two of you can make it inside without any further incident. The door gets shut and locked, the hall light flicked on, and you’re already reaching for him again. He cups your cheeks, sweeping his thumbs over your cheekbones.

“Hey,” He murmurs.

“Mm?”

“I’ve-- Been thinking,” He manages between kisses, even as you’re trying to nudge him back toward the bedroom.

“Uh-oh,” You tease before nipping at his lip. Borracho laughs, leaning away to look at you.

“Listen to me,” He murmurs after a moment. Your brow furrows a little, and his finger reaches up to smooth away the little wrinkle before he chases the touch with a kiss.

“How long have we been together, huh?”

“Almost two years,” You say, letting your hands settle on his shoulders.

“The guys...They started betting whether or not you’d be able to stick through the week,” He shakes his head, and you bite your lips, because you know that they did, those ridiculous idiots, “But you stuck through -- all week, all month, all year and you’re still here… The second I knew you’d stick around here, though, with me,” he squeezes your hips, “Was that night, after I’d been coordinating with the FBI. You came over, you stayed, and... And I knew I didn’t want you to go…”

Usually by now you’d cut in, make a joke, but there’s something different about the way Borracho is looking down at you. So you just listen, smooth your fingers over the fabric of his shirt because even now, you can’t keep still.

“And I know that sometimes my family can be a lot-- And so can work--” He’s talking about when he was shot and you both know it. Your stomach turns at the reminder and you lower your eyes. He cups your chin and lifts your eyes to his again, “But I can’t imagine waking up without you, or-- Or coming home without you here… And I know you were worried when I was hurt. I hate that you couldn’t see me right away, and I don’t ever want you to have to go through that again... I love you, sweetness, and I know you love me.”

“‘Course I love you, Benny,” You manage after a moment, eyes searching his. He smiles, nudging his nose against yours. You’re distracted, leaning up into the motion, and you don’t notice him reaching into his pocket.

You frown as he leans away, but that frown melts into shock as he sinks to one knee, small velvet box in hand.

He opens it.

“Will you marry me, sweetness?”

You don’t know if you’re supposed to look at him or the ring-- and then you realized you haven’t said anything, but you’re nodding and your eyes are tearing up. You manage to get out, “Of course I’ll marry you.”

And Borracho’s face splits into the widest grin. He pulls the ring out of the box and slips it onto your proffered left ring finger -- and then laughs as you tug him up from the floor. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your face into his neck. He’s holding onto you, too, tight and steady, and pressing kisses to your cheek, your ear, your head, your shoulder - anywhere you can reach.

You turn your head to meet his lips, curling close to him, and he finally lets you steer him back toward your room.

-- "Why did you take my headphones?” You ask later. Borracho has his head on your stomach. He’s been nuzzling contentedly for the last few minutes, dropping the odd kiss to your stomach or hip, touchy in your afterglow. “Didn’t want you listening in on the guys,” He murmurs, “Didn’t want them spoiling it.” “Why’d you have Nick tell me where you were?” “Did you ask him?” “No, he just came over and told me.” Borracho scoffs, shaking his head, “Told him to only tell you if he asked.” “The rest’a the guys weren’t all that subtle, either. Kept whispering.” “And that’s why I took your headphones.” You chuckle, sweeping his hair away from his forehead. “You know me too well, baby.” You lift your hand and eye the ring, unable to help the smile that grows on your face. Borracho turns his head, kissing your wrist. “You like it?” He asks. “I love it,” You swear, lowering your hand to stroke his cheek, “And I love you.” You’ve lost track of how many times the two of you have said it in the last couple of hours. You know that tomorrow morning, you’re going to have to start thinking about planning. You’re going to call your parents to give them the news. You’re going to be going over to Isobel’s for breakfast with the family, too, and you know you’re going to hear all about how long they’ve known about Borracho’s plan. And then the wedding planning, the ideas for the wedding that they’ve probably had for months, the fact that you’re gonna have four flower girls and three little ring bearers from Borracho’s nieces and nephews alone. You don’t have to worry about that for a few hours yet. All you care about is the man leaning up for another kiss, another two kisses, another three kisses. You curl your arms around his shoulders and squeeze his hips with your knees as he murmurs, “I love you, too, Mrs. Magalon,” Against your lips.

[obeymeaskme]

Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: I will be pinning a master list for ALL chapters uploaded, and adding links to said master list!

Chapter One: The Arrivals (2/2)

Word Count: 2213

Rating: 18+

Lights had filled the room. Purples, reds, greens, blues, yellows, golds, and pink flooded around the house like snakes searching for it's meal. Finding their targets still fast asleep, they coiled around their bodies until they were both covered head to toe. In almost an instant their bodies were swallowed whole, and the colored fog had disappeared as soon as they arrived. Leaving no one in their wake. Just the house. Empty of any breathing soul.

Through the closed eyes of the young girls, the colors still swirled. They were almost hypnotized by it. To each of their own the colors formed happy dreams, calming scents, and other promising visions. Even then, a black haze had started taking over. Though they were not awake their bodies had felt the shift and difference in their surroundings. Their skin no longer felt the soft warm beds. Now they lay flat on their backs upon two cushioned slabs. The air around them had grown hot, and uncomfortable. Their dreamy visions had finally faded to black, the panic set in, and they opened their eyes. Fully hoping their dreams turned into a nightmare. Concern and paranoia had set in as they shot up and locked eyes on each other. Fear evident in their faces.

Thoughts of cults and kidnappings came from their mouths as they tried so hard to figure out where they were. A loud and controlling voice echoed from nearby. They turned to the voice only to be met with seven uniformed men sitting under a high pedestal where another man sat, dressed in red. Noelle was first to stand up, her shaking feet feeling the stone cold ground that sent a shock through her body. Instantly, she stretched an arm out in front of Bella to protect her. The height difference between Noelle and Bella seemed comical to the seven men sitting at ground level, as various snickers and smirks were targeted towards them. The man above them speaking out again.

“Please, Don't be so afraid! You were brought here with good reason, and pure intentions!”

“What? Are you gonna brainwash us or something? Cause that would be the only "good reason" I can think of....”

Noelle spat back at the man, but shrunk slightly as he stood up, and frowned. Feeling looked down on, the girls tried to walk backwards for a door, but they only found the slabs they had woken up on.

“There will be no brainwashing, and you're more than welcome to leave at any time you desire. But only if you agree to change into more formal clothing, and listen to what I have to say...”

Noelle had yelped at the additional person who seemed to have been already standing by their side waiting, and holding on to clothing. A pleading look on his face had the girls silently agreeing to play along. Within the small amount of time they got dressed they seemed to have shaken off the general shock. Both of them seemed to admire the large banners decorated with different animals. They hung above the seven men in what was perceived as their rankings.

The silence that fell was broken too soon by the man in red who was obviously the leader of the group, and the silent servant who offered them clothes had stood next to him. Everyone now was on the same ground level.

“Let us try this again. I am Lord Diavolo, and you are the current hosts at the Royal Academy of Diavolo. Also known as RAD...”

“I knew it! It's a cult!”

Noelle exaggerated, and ruffled her nappy hair as a couple chuckles echoed around them. Her reaction almost lightened the mood.

“Not quite. I am the soon to be Heir of Devildom. The more civilized section of Hell's Layers. Or what some Humans tend to call the Underworld.”

The girls shook their heads in confusion. And for a few seconds they both looked at each other. Unsure if the truth was being told, but if it was...

“Wait... You said RAD. Oh dear god no. We tossed those out! We never gave them back to that creepy old lady! SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW US!”

Noelle seemed to panic as more and more irrational thoughts spewed out. A hand was placed on her shoulder, and she shrunk under the large man's touch. She reached back for Bella, but Bella had already backed away, fear seeping into her face.

“Those papers you filled out were connected to the ones in my office. As you filled those out, it carved ink into the papers here was well. Infused with my own magic. We call it Bleeding Applications. The main goal of my academy is to get an understanding of humans, demons, and angels in order to one day have peace between the three realms.”

Relaxing, Noelle nodded and looked back at Bella. Silently telling her that it's okay to get closer. She frowned as Bella shook her head no and opted to sit on the slab instead.

“Why us? We thought it was just a joke. What if we lied on those papers?”

“Well did you?”

“... No...”

“Perfect! I'd like to personally welcome you to the program! That is... If you agree to stay...”

A discussion took place about the new house they just bought, and their new lives they would miss out on. The teal haired servant that had guided the girls earlier was known as Barbatos. He was given the job to see that the newly acquired house would be taken care of as needed, and their payment would be completely paid off if they agreed to the program, and succeeded in staying. “But in hell?” Thought Noelle. “That's close to a death wish”. And as if her mind was read, they were introduced to the seven men who have been secretly judging them this whole time.

As the introductions went along it was revealed they were not just demons, or the school's council members, but they were all brothers. Lucifer. The eldest, who seemed to be the most put together, was the Avatar of Pride. Red eyes, and neatly kept black hair giving him a devilish charm, but an arrogant one as well. Mammon. The Second born who had made the most noise and laughter, and was obviously looking down on the girls. White hair, and unnatural blue eyes said trust, but he was the Avatar of greed. One to watch out for. The third born seemed bored of the whole situation, and would look away when either girl made eye contact. Dark lilac hair, with shiny orange eyes; the avatar of Envy. That was Leviathan. Fourth born, Satan, had given both the girls unwanted shivers as he was the Avatar of Wrath. The blonde hair and greenish blue eyes were comforting, but told them to run and hide. The fourth born, Asmodeus, was drilling holes into the girls with his own set of orange lush eyes. The mention of Lust made them both frown and slightly cringe as a quick wink was sent their way. Sandy hair was swept to the side flamboyantly. The last two were a set of twins. A redhead and a black haired male who's bangs were dyed white, and they shared purple eyes. Neither seemingly bored, or interested in the meeting. They were Beelzebub; Avatar of Gluttony, and Belphegor; Avatar of Sloth.

A bell rang out as soon as introductions were done, and everyone but the first born (Lucifer) had left. Stomachs growled and the girls looked around, avoiding his stare. Becoming impatient he walked by them. Nose in the air, and not bothering to even look at them.

“If you decide to follow me, I am heading to the cafeteria where we will give you a list of things you may want to avoid eating while you stay here. That is, if you have the gall to...”

Gulping they followed. The Cafeteria was empty, and it was no surprise to any of the demon brothers. As their food was handed to them, they both grimaced at the purple sludge consistency in front of them. They were soon forced to eat it, especially if they planned on eating any other foods that may contain poison. As much of the food in Devildom seemed to consist of. Soon after their crash course the girls were left to their own devices, and did their best to talk amongst themselves. Their decision to stay or leave weighed heavy.

Upon agreeing to stay, Lucifer seemed rather pleased with the news. The first genuine smile the girls had seen from him. It was then their task to talk with the brothers and decide who they chose as a tutor, who would also act as a guide.

Bella had immediately followed Noelle, and they first talked to the youngest, thinking that they would be the easiest to get along with. While they were not wrong about it, Bella seemed to relax more with the Sins of Gluttony, and Sloth. It became apparent that it was a two for one deal, and Noelle had stepped back to visually analyze her choices. By which she just looked at the remaining choices and their current activity. Satan and Asmodeus was almost an immediate no go. She feared she'd anger the wrath god, or be seduced. Neither of those were a good thing for her, or her mental health. Then her eyes laid upon Leviathan. The name stuck from TV shows she's watched in the past. Furthermore she couldn't help but recognize the hand held device in his hands.

Walking up to him with a bit more confidence, she sat beside him, and watched him for a few seconds. She recognized the sounds of Mario Kart being played. Perking up she waited for him to be seemingly done with his race.

“You know, I'm kind of a fan of racing games.”

Leviathan had rolled his eyes and gave her a frowning glare. It was obvious he didn't want to be bothered at this time. But before the conversation could continue, the bell rang, and Lucifer arose from his seat, his brother's watching him for instructions.

“I'm glad to see that you two have finally made your decision on your tour guides, and over all protectors-”

Noelle heard a quiet protest come from Leviathan, which was quickly shut down by Lucifer's glare.

“-Though they are now assigned to be your guides, this does not mean you must befriend them, or be attached at the hip. They have duties and hobbies of their own, and I expect you both respect that. Feel free to reach out to any of the brothers with questions. Now with that being said, you may head back to the council room, and collect your personal belongings, and devices.”

The bell had rung, but an eternity set in as Lucifer explained to them on how they were to settle in. Eventually they had collected a few bags of personal items, and enough clothes to get through the week. On top of that, they were given an allowance for other necessities, and any other luxuries they desired. It also turned out that the demons Bella and Noelle had been assigned were also key to their class schedule. Bella's classes consisted of study halls, history classes, along with a gym class. The final class earning a shared groan between Belphegor and Bella.

Noelle had a small bit of luck with more hands on classes such as dark arts, an actual art class, and potions. Though the tour between classes with Levi as her guide consisted more of him complaining about some 'Normie' having to follow him around. Noelle made mental notes of some complaints as to not make him mad.

The tours finally came to an end, and they were led to the House of Lamentation. A large Mansion where the Brothers lived, and where the Girls would be hosted for the school year. Dinner had passed by and soon the girls were brought to their rooms.

They hardly had time to admire the Gothic design of the home, as the girls split ways at the top of the stairs. Bella had taken a spare room closest to them, but Noelle had made her way down the hall. Leviathan had made a comment about how he's literally two doors across the hall from her room. He wasn't the nicest it seemed, as more insults of having to 'babysit' was made. An even bigger groan was made as he opened the door. It was a rather large storage room, that apparently Mammon was supposed to clean out before any new students arrived.

Arrangements were quickly made, and it seemed like Noelle would be staying in the living room until the storage space was cleared out. The darkness surrounded Noelle as Leviathan had left her alone rather quickly to go read Manga. Even though Noelle had expressed her fondness about the Japanese comics, it reached deaf ears, but was still greeted with a small 'whatever'. The night washed out the remaining lights. And Sleep was surprisingly attainable.

[vfdarkness]

AVFD Script - S2EP03 The Forgotten Man

[[Intro]]

You’re at a bus stop and your bus is late.

Finally, it pulls up, you step aboard, and for a brief moment… 

the driver’s facial features - their eyes, nose, mouth are in all the wrong places. 

As you stare, their face quickly rearranges itself to appear more normal. More human.

The door closes. There’s no one else in the vehicle.

You need my help.

[[AVFD intro music kicks in]]

This is A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD intro music fades out]]

Hello, this is Dr. Malcolm Ryder, parapsychologist, here to help you with all problems paranormal, supernatural, and otherworldly. And we have a wonderful show planned for tonight. There’s two national alerts for the state of Florida - one for the panhandle, and another for the everglades. After we go over these we’ll explore one of the strangest roadside attractions in American history. And of course we’ll finish our show with the phone lines open so you, our listeners, can call-in. But first, let's get to our national alerts

[[National Alerts music starts]]

A sinkhole has appeared in the middle of Kelson Ave in Marianna, Florida. The hole’s depth is currently unknown however twenty feet down, stone carvings of faces appear. The carvings continue for as far down as anyone can tell. Each is unique yet is made to grotesquely express either the emotion of fear or that of delight. A spelunker descended into the hole to gather information about its depth. Two hours into his descent contact was lost and he was pulled out. When he resurfaced he was said to be in a daze. He removed his harness and immediately jumped back into the hole. Please be careful while driving on Kelson, Ave in Marianna, Florida. 

Our second national alert is for the Florida Everglades. The Singing has returned to the wetlands. All those in the area are advised to wear hearing protection for at least the next 72 hours or until otherwise instructed. The source of The Singing is unknown but is said to compel all who hear it to walk into the wetlands and be devoured by the creatures there-in. Again, please wear hearing protection if you’re within earshot of the Florida Everglades.

And that’s all we have for national alerts this evening. 

[[NA music fades out]]

Next up we have Today In Odd America, where we’ll discuss a manifestation that once haunted every corner of this land. And afterwards we’ll open the phone-lines.

[[Today In Odd America]]

Today in Odd America we find ourselves across the highways of our country. Forty four years ago today marks the last known visit to a roadside attraction commonly called The House of Narcissus. No physical evidence of this place exists. It was never found in the same location twice - yet hundreds of oral testimonies swear to its existence. Tonight I will cobble together disparate accounts from those who claim to have toured the fabled roadside museum. My hope is this will paint you a picture of what the experience was like for those who wound up touring a space dedicated completely to themselves. 

“I was driving down Route 8,” Maise Bridges stated to the Columbus Dispatch in 1955. “It was late and dark. No other cars were on the road. Then I saw it - a billboard illuminated by a single dim light that read: Know Thyself, Next Exit. No other words. But next to them, taking up the entirety of the right side was a painted picture - of me. Unmistakably me. Done in a sort of… Norman Rockwell style I suppose. I just… What was I supposed to do? Of course I took the next exit.” 

All descriptions of The House of Narcissus begin this way. A strange billboard on a lonely road, mere seconds to decide to take the exit or not. Oddly, there are few confirmed cases of those who saw the billboard and kept driving. It’s impossible to say if that says something overall about human nature or merely the people The House chose to manifest for.

“I was overwhelmed when I first drove up to the house,” Curtis Johnson said to the Louisville Times in 1948. “I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I might have cried a bit. I mean the place was just, just magnificent. Out there, in the middle of this grassy field, in the middle of nowhere there’s this small piece of heaven, you know? I didn’t feel like I was about to tour some cheap-o roadside scam where they show you a mannequin in a five dollar gorilla suit and tell you it’s Bigfoot. I felt like I was home. Of course I rushed right outta my car up to the door. Why wouldn’t I? I was home.”

Descriptions of the museum are typically left vague. Abstract. At least when describing the exterior. Visitors will speak of the joy they felt upon seeing the house. Often they’ll say a sense of nostalgia or homecoming overwhelmed them. However no one was ever able to give a single concrete detail of what The House looked like. How many stories were there? What color was the siding? What the house looks like remains a mystery to this day. But there’s much agreement about its interior. At least in some respects.

“There’re no employees, no turnstyle to go through, nothing like a museum or roadside attraction typically has. You just go in the front door, and you’re suddenly there - in the first room. It’s filled with photographs along the walls. They were all of my family, friends, neighbors, teachers, former classmates, folks from my church, employers, co-workers. People I might have talked to only once in passing. None of these were photos I took or remember anyone else ever taking. None are in any photo album I own,” said Judge Michael Harvester in 1972, when he called into the KIRT radio station of Olympia, Washington. 

The Photo Gallery is always the first room visitors find themselves in. Under each photo is a brass plaque, on which a single sentence is etched: the last words said by whomever is touring the house to the person featured in the photograph.

Even this first room can be disarming to a visitor. As Judge Harvester said: “You don’t realize how many people you speak to, thinking you’ll do so again, but then never do. It adds up over a life. It really does. I didn’t look at all the pictures, or read all the plaques. I had to stop after awhile. I saw one in particular… the last words I said to an old neighbor of mine, lived a few houses away from the place I bought right after law school. Me, him, and some of the guys down the block would get together to play poker twice a month. Last thing I said to him, ‘I’ll see you in a few weeks.’ I don’t remember what happened after that. I guess the poker game fell apart. I don’t think either of us moved, I don’t remember us getting into any fights. But I never spoke to him again. And that’s just one example. People like to call that first room the photo gallery, and that makes sense, I guess. But that’s not what it is. It’s a monument. A monument to lost relationships.”

Most visitors to The House expressed regret coming there at all after visiting this first room. Unfortunately, the way they entered disappears after entry - replaced by a wall filled with photographs. Once you enter, The House forces you to continue through the rooms. That is, if you wish to leave.

“The second room was a full scale replica of my childhood home,” said Sara Lopez to the San Diego Tribune in 1966. “All five rooms of our house back on Balboa Avenue. “I went through the cabinets in the kitchen. The dishes… they were identical to ones we had. There were these little hand drawn designs on them. They’re abstract, hard to describe, but the plates in that museum. They matched perfectly how I remembered them. It was impossible.” Most statements regarding the second room share similar amazement at the level of detail on even the most insignificant items - stains on the carpet, entryways scuffed and dirty from children’s shoes. “What really got me about the second room, “Sara Lopez said, “were the smells. The kitchen had this overwhelming odor of garlic and cumin, spices my mother put in everything. The carpet near the entryway smelled like wet dog. Our lab, Daisy, would run through our neighbors sprinkler then come inside, right to that patch of carpet, and roll around. Little things like that, I’d forgotten about completely. Hadn’t thought of in years, but suddenly a million memories came rushing back to me.”

The average visitor reported spending somewhere between four to five hours in The House of Narcissus. There were outliers of course, in both directions. Some, after seeing the photo gallery, ran through the other rooms without lingering. Others claimed to have spent days and only left when they were near dehydration.

There are dozens of other rooms in The House. Too many to go over tonight. But I’ll end by stating what’s in the only obligatory room, the last room. The room with the only way out.

At the very end of a long hallway is a plain wooden door with a small sign above that reads: What if…

Inside is a small movie theatre. There’s a single red cushioned seat in the room with the perfect view of a small screen. To the right of the screen is a door with an exit sign above. The door will not open unless the visitor sits down in the chair and watches, truly watches and listens, to the film that plays in that small theatre.

“On the day of what was supposed to be my wedding I called my best friend - my bridesmaid. I cried and I gave her the awful job of telling my husband-to-be I’d changed my mind,” said Tonya Blanton to the Sante Fe Dispatch in 1958. “I was living in Minneapolis at the time. Born there, was to be married there, figured I’d die there eventually too. I don’t know what overcame me. But I got in my car and drove. Found myself in New Mexico and started a new life. My parents were furious. And I never spoke to the man who was to be my husband ever again. He sent me a letter when I’d settled in Santa Fe. I wasn’t brave enough to open it. But in that last room. In that last room of that awful house - a film played. It showed what my life would have been had I stayed in Minneapolis. I won’t… I won’t say what all I saw. What all I missed out on. All I’ll say is I know I made the wrong choice. I’ve thought about that every single day since visiting that terrible place.”

Tonya Blanton is not a unique case. Chicago journalist Studs Terkel in his book The American Road: An Oral History devoted a chapter to The House of Narcissus. He conducted over twenty interviews with those who'd toured the roadside wonder. When asked if they could change places and live the life they saw in that last room - would they? Every person he interviewed said they would.

The House of Narcissus only existed for some sixty odd years. The last known visit occurred in 1977, outside of Spring Green, Wisconsin. “People say I must’ve burned the place down or something,” Buddy Palmer, the last recognized visitor, said to the Madison Gazette in 1980. “I didn’t, I swear,” he went on, “but if I had some matches and kerosene on me, would I of? Sure thing. No one should ever be forced to watch the movie that plays in that last room. I’ll think of that picture the rest of my life. I’ll know I messed up early on and I’m not living my best, happiest life. You know how hard it is to get out of the bed in the morning with that hanging over you? Sometimes that movie plays in my dreams. I usually gotta call in sick to work the next day when it does. I just can’t stop thinking about it. The rest of the place too… it’s just... Just too much.”

For those of you listening to this while driving alone, rest assured, you’re unlikely to see a billboard with your own face staring back at you and the words: Know Thyself, Next Exit. But in the rare chance such an event occurs, please consider my advice: don’t take that exit. Just keep driving. There are some truths about ourselves perhaps better left unexplored.

And now back to our main show.

[[TIOA music fades out]]

​​ACT II

RYDER

And we're back and we already have a caller on the line. Why don't you tell us your name and the nature of your supernatural problem.

RENE

Hello, Malcolm. I was wondering if we'd ever get the chance to speak again.

RYDER

(uncertain)

I don't recognize your voice. Have you called into the show before?

RENE

A few times, yes. And we met once or twice in person.

A beat.

RYDER

Who is this?

RENE

My name is Rene Dupont. And though I've explained this to you before, I will kindly do so again. I exist with a peculiar condition. People can rarely retain memories of me. Not in any form. As this conversation gets to a certain point, I'll begin to vanish from your mind as well as most of your listeners. If you try to write down anything about me during this call, you'll likely only produce gibberish or the vaguest of details.

RYDER

I've read case studies of similar situations. There was a man in Utah-

RENE

(interrupts)

Yes, yes.

Nathaniel Cotwell who lived in a small town that couldn't create new memories of him past the age of eight. And so as an adult they'd still treat him as if he were a young boy. You studied him and Sarah Pullman of Butte, Montana who went missing one night in the woods. When she found her way home again, her family had completely forgotten her.

A beat.

RENE

The few times we've spoken, you've wished to demonstrate knowledge of people who've existed with Memory-related ailments and those are your two most common examples.

RYDER

It seems we have spoken before. Mr. Dupont-

RENE

Please, call me Rene. No need for formalities. We're old acquaintances after all.

RYDER

Yes. Of course. And why have you called into the show tonight, Rene?

RENE

There's been a man following me. Repeatedly.

A beat.

RYDER

(realizing what he means)

And of course that's a difficult task to accomplish, as it's so hard to remember you.

RENE

You're correct. I am Anonymity Incarnate. But there's a man in a grey suit who seems to have found my scent. A further detail about him: he's missing one of his fingers. I'll let you guess which.

RYDER

Why is The Traveling Salesman after you?

RENE

I called you in search of an answer to that very question.

RYDER

In all likelihood he wishes to strike a deal with you. That's why he seeks anyone out. That, or to kill them.

RENE

Let's assume the former for the moment: what sort of deal would he want to make with me?

RYDER

I have no idea. Perhaps he needs information from someone. But he doesn't want this person to know they've given their secrets up. I imagine with your talent that's something you'd be good at.

RENE

Before the wall was destroyed in '89 I was employed on both sides doing something akin to what you just suggested.

A beat.

RYDER

Then that might be what he wants. Or perhaps something more... metaphysical.

RENE

Such as?

RYDER

Your ability to be forgotten. Julian already has some power over memory, but not that.

RENE

Could he really take that from me?

RYDER

Not take. Trade. The Salesman doesn't steal, Rene, but his deals are often one-sided, exploitive, as he'll neglect to tell you pertent information before you agree.

RENE

So he wouldn't really be taking something from me so much as he'd be giving me the gift of being able to be remembered.

A beat.

RYDER

That's a dangerous way of viewing such a deal.

RENE

Dangerous for you, perhaps, but of great advantage to me.

RYDER

It would be dangerous for the whole country for The Traveling Salesman to be easily forgotten. One of the few weapons we have against him are the memories of devastation he's brought about by the deals he's made. The only reason anyone ever turns him down is because his reputation precedes him. Take that away-

RENE

(interrupts)

I have the means and resources to go to many other countries. Julian Holloway can have this one.

RYDER

You'd potentially sacrifice hundreds of millions of people to-

RENE

(interrupts)

To be remembered. And yes, I would. This "talent" of mine came to me when I was young. For most my life I've been unable to have a meaningful relationship with another human being.

To even have an extended conversation. What's my name?

RYDER

Rene...

Malcolm searches his mind for the surname.

RYDER

Rene Dupont.

RENE

You're close to forgetting already, Malcolm Ryder.

A beat.

RENE

If I made a deal with your friend for him to take this power away, you'd never even know.

RYDER

The Traveling Salesman is not my friend.

RENE

If your former friend might help me where no one else could before, including yourself, then I would take him up on his offer.

RYDER

That is if he even wants to help you. He could be searching for you, as I already said, to kill you.

RENE

And why would that be his objective?

RYDER

There are limitations to his power. I don't fully know what they are, but I know they exist.

RENE

Again I ask, why would this necessitate him wanting me dead?

RYDER

Because you possess power in one of his realms - Memory and Dream. And if you have more power than he does, and if he can't use you, or your power, towards his own ends, he'll want you dead. You're a liability otherwise.

A beat.

RENE

You're bluffing. Trying to stoke fear in me so I stay away from him. So I can't make a deal. If what you said was true, your friend Charlotte Price would be dead.

RYDER

Charlotte has found ways to take care of herself. She's forged alliances with things even Julian fears. Have you done the same?

A beat.

RENE

What you're telling me is that I need leverage before I allow Julian Holloway to try and offer a deal to me.

RYDER

That's not what I'm saying at all. Under no circumstances should you attempt to make any deal with him.

RENE

That's not what I took away from this conversation. Thank you so much, Malcolm. As always, you've been helpful.

RYDER

No, wait-

Dial tone.

A long pause.

RYDER

There was someone on the line just now. I swear there was.

I have notes I made, most are illegible which isn't like me. Of what I can read: Shadow, Mirror, Flesh, Spirit, and Dream. I tried to write Memory but it seems my hand was unable to. Odd...

A beat.

RYDER

I think we'll end the show there tonight. I'd like to play back the recording of the past several minutes. See if I can see what I'm missing.

A beat.

RYDER

But if you're experiencing anything supernatural, paranormal, or otherworldly, please feel free to call in next time on A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD outro music fades in and out.]]

[give-seconds]

Back to You

Summary: You and Mark are all each other have, he’s easily the most important person to you. But something happens and you both are slowly separated, so you work your hardest to be accepted into a college in Korea so you can find your way back to a home with him again.

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

--- Part 11

“Hey y/n.”  

“Um hi Hyunjin,” you greet perplexedly. You’ve only spoken to your RA a couple of times, all of them at some sort of group gathering. “Do you need me for something?”

“Not exactly,” she sets her phone on the desk and looks up at you from behind the raised front desk, “A woman is waiting for you in the commons area. She said to tell you she’s Minhyung’s mom.”

“Oh,” you swallow dryly, clenching and unclenching your fists nervously. “Thanks.”

She smiles politely before picking her phone back up to resume whatever it was she was doing.

Nodding your head to yourself, you slowly turn around and begin walking to the common area. Why is she here? What could she possibly have to say to me? Does she know I’m meeting him today? She already told me she won’t ask me to leave, so it must be that she knows. I mean, what else could-

“Oh hello, y/n.”

You freeze for a second, reminding yourself to take a deep breath. Squaring your shoulders, you force a smile on your face. “Hi Eu-In, how are you?”

She motions to the chair opposite her. “Let’s skip the greetings.”

You feel your blood turn cold, and you force yourself to start moving again to sit in the chair. “What can I help you with?”

She smiles, and if you weren’t filled with anxiety, you might have rolled your eyes at how fake it is. “I want you to stay away from my son. But that isn’t anything too unexpected now, is it?”

You don’t know what to say. You had hoped you had settled this the night of the performance, but deep down, you knew she wasn’t done letting you know how much she dislikes you.

“I’ve told you this before,” she says, taking your silence as an invitation to continue. “You’re not good for him. You remind him of a time that was spent in an unhealthy atmosphere, and as his mother, I can’t in good conscience let him continue to be around you. It has nothing to do with you.”

You scoff inwardly; you never thought she would say it to your face. “With all due respect, I think Mark-”

“Minhyung.”

You blink at her interruption, thrown off for a second. “I think he is old enough to make decisions for himself. He’s in his second year of college, and I know you had him in therapy. He’s in a place where he can make his own decisions.”

“I don’t think you understand,” she hisses. “I’m done beating around the bush. I’ve tried everything to get you and Minhyung to come to this decision on your own. So now, I’m done with that, and I’ve decided to be blunt with you. I don’t like you, y/n. I’ve told you this, but you’re bad for him.”

“You don’t know me,” you say, surprised by the loud volume of your voice. Quickly looking around to make sure no one heard you, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves. “How can you not like me?”

“I don’t need to. You’re the daughter of the man who ruined mine and my family’s life. Because of you, John grew up an only child with memories of a younger brother. My husband and I didn’t sleep for weeks after he was taken, and every year on his birthday, we were reminded of the child we thought was dead. We had to bury an empty coffin. Do you know what that felt like?”

You remember the day he went to court to be legally resurrected. His parents had bought him a pair of nice pants and a nice shirt, styled his hair, and whisked him away early in the morning. When he got back, he had dragged his mom straight to your foster parents’ house, not even bothering to change.

That moment felt like it was yesterday. The smile on Mrs. Lee’s face had instantly disappeared as soon as he let go of her hand to hug you. If someone were to ask you the moment you knew she didn’t like you, you’d answer with that moment. If you had to guess, it was the moment she realized you were there to stay.

“I take no pleasure in your family’s suffering, Mrs. Lee. You know that, right?”

She sighs. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it.”

“But you blame me for something I had no control over?”

She stares at you, eyes void of any emotion outside of annoyance. That’s the thing about her, she never yells. She just looks at you like you’re lower than dirt.

“I never said you were to blame, y/n. You’re just an unwanted reminder. There’s a reason for the saying ‘like father like daughter.’”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a second, you forget to breathe. Those have always been the words you fear the most. To hear you’re in any way like your dad terrifies you.

“You know,” you whisper, forcing yourself to make eye contact with her. “Your son isn’t the only one who got therapy. Something my therapist would say to me was ‘heredity is not destiny.’ I am nothing like my father; I have worked very hard to make sure of that. So while I understand you not liking me, I can’t promise you I’m never going to see your son again. He’s the only family I have, and I don’t plan on letting him go.”

“He’s not your family! You know that, right? That’s the crazy kind of thinking your father has. So while you may think you’re better than him, you’re not. As long as you think of my son as your family, your thinking is just as messed up as his.”

“I need you to leave.”

You know you don’t sound demanding with your voice, wavering the way it did. You didn’t know how else to respond. While Mark leaving had hurt, you did notice it was easier for you to get better with her gone. After she left, the thoughts telling you you were exactly like your father got smaller and smaller; eventually, they were practically non-existent.  

Now that she’s in front of you, telling you once again you’re exactly like him - it’s suffocating.

“What? I’m not done talking.”

“Yes, you are. I know what you want to say, and you know what I’m going to say. What’s the point in staying?”

“Because I can’t leave here until you understand why you can’t be around him,”  she says exasperatedly.

“Then I guess I’m leaving first.” With that, you shakily push yourself up and back to where Hyunjin sat, ignoring her calling your name.

“If she comes back, tell her to leave. I don’t want to see her again.”

Hyunjin nods her head, a surprised look on her face as she looks between you and Mrs. Lee.

Tapping your fingers together nervously, you quickly walk to the elevators. You know you’re just anxious, but you can’t help but worry she would follow you.  

Once you’re in the safety of your room, you allow the tears to escape from your eyes.

---

“So, how was going to the movies?” Mark asks, taking a sip from his smoothie.

You nod your head in affirmation, tearing off a bit of the fish-shaped pastry. “It was a lot of fun. It was the first time I got to have fun outside of tours.”

You haven’t told him about his mom coming to see you. You’re worried it would cause trouble between him and his mom. The last thing you need is for her to have another reason to dislike you. With that in mind, you had come to meet him with anxiety still settled in your gut.

When you met him, he knew right away something was wrong. You could tell he knew by the way he took your hand and jumped into talking about something that had happened in one of his classes. Back when you were little, the only way he knew how to comfort you was through touch. Whether it was holding your hand, hugging you while you cried, or simply resting his leg against yours as you sat side by side.

After a few minutes of walking from the bus stop, he stopped you outside a smoothie shop, where he told you this was yours and his new place. This was where you were going to pick up where you left off in Vancouver and try all the flavors. It was also where he promised you that, starting today, you were going to try all his favorite street foods.

Sitting here, eating bungeoppang and drinking a blueberry smoothie, you realize this is the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You have your brother back, you don’t have your dad or foster parents looking over your shoulder, and you have friends. Even if his mom would never like you, everything felt like it had fallen into place.

“That’s good, I’m glad you’re having fun here. I know this is early, but at your next break, we should go up to the beach. Oh, or we should make Donghyuck take us to his home in Jeju. That’s way better, we won’t have to pay for a hotel.”

You snort, taking a dink from your paper cup. “Nice to know you have your priorities straight.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, what’s the point of having friends if you can’t exploit them?”

You smile at him, letting yourself get lost in his eyes. Other than the fact he’s four years older, he looks exactly the same. The way his nose scrunched when he laughed, the way he tapped his fingers or bounced his legs, and the way he parted his hair. It’s all the same.

You chuckle to yourself. He’s definitely more handsome now.

“You got something to say?” he asks, cocking his head upwards dramatically and making his voice with a confident tone.

“Calm down my dude,” you respond, leaning back in your chair. “I’m just happy to be back with you. I really missed you, Mark, and I’m so glad I found you.”

His smile softens and he lightly taps his foot against yours under the table. “Me too, y/n, me too.”

---

Thank you to @softsungchan for proofreading this for me! I’ve figured the way I’ve been going about posting my series is wrong and I promise for any further series (if you’re interested in reading anything else of mine) that it’ll be different 😂.

I would love to know what you thought about this! Have a great day/night! 

Previous | Next 

[dramioneficrecommendations]

Hiii I accidentally jumped in dramione fandom, and I'm looking for good stuff for this weekend. Could pls tell me your 5 (or more)favorite dramione fics ever? Thanks!

I hope you like it here and stay with us… forever. LOL (Honestly, we have the best fics and authors in the entire HP fandom.)

Here are some of my all-time favourite Dramione fics (you can also check out my fic rec tag):

Revert by SUPRNTRAL LVR: Six months post-war, Malfoy is in serious trouble. He’s on the run from the Ministry, Death Eaters, and a deadly curse which is eating him alive. When he hits rock bottom, a change in fortune lands him in 12 Grimmauld Place under the Ministry’s custody - and forces Hermione to remember the secrets they’ve both kept for years. Dramione, Sick!Draco, flashbacks to Hogwarts, hurt. Rated: M - Chapters: 24 - Words: 260,266

Manacled by SenLinYu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret locked away in her mind. She is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve, to be bred and monitored until it can be accessed. COMPLETE. Rated: M - Chapters: 77 - Words: 384,000

Isolation by Bex-chan: He can’t leave the room. Her room. And it’s all the Order’s fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something’s going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. “There,” she spat. “Now your Blood’s filthy too!” DM/HG. PostHBP. Now complete with epilogue. Rated: M - Chapters: 49 - Words: 284,050

Five Days by RavieSnake: No one knows that they are missing. No one knows where they are. No one knows that they are trapped. No one knows that they are dying. Dramione. WINNER for Best Drama/Angst and Best Tragedy in the Winter 2017 Dramione Fanfiction Awards! Rated: M - Chapters: 14 - Words: 32,001

Aurelian by BittyBlueEyes: Two years after the war, a young stranger pays a visit to the burrow. His arrival alone is baffling, but the news he brings of an upcoming war turns the world upside down. Hermione’s quiet, post-war life will never be the same. Rated: T - Chapters: 43 - Words: 270,571

The Politician’s Wife by pir8fancier: Hermione hates Draco in the springtime, Hermione hates Draco in the fall, Hermione hates Draco 247. Rated: M - Chapters: 14 - Words: 68,629

The Revenant by atalanta84: Sometimes fate brings us far from home, and sometimes it brings us back again. When a friend’s mysterious death causes Draco Malfoy to return to Britain, he is finally forced to face his past, and the love he left behind. A story about second chances. Rated: M - Chapters: 10 - Words: 67,866

The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man by ianthewaiting: Ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, Hermione Granger leads of life of self-imposed obscurity, that is, until the day Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is murdered and a certain ‘hero’ is responsible. DM/HG, written originally in 2007-2008, and finally making its debut here! AU, DH-EWE, non-canon elements, time travel, character death, etc. Rated: M - Chapters: 28 - Words: 229,334

The Dragon’s Bride by Rizzle: 7th year. Draco & Hermione awaken in a Muggle hotel room, naked, hung-over and tattooed. They also happen to be married. Thus begin a desperate search for a solution to their sticky situation. Rated: M - Chapters: 61 - Words: 225,164

The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen: COMPLETE: Hermione’s eighth year at Hogwarts is already going to be difficult in the aftermath of the war, but it is further thrown into upheaval when Headmistress McGonagall orders a re-sorting of all students to promote inter-house unity. But when the Sorting Hat sends Hermione to Ravenclaw with Draco - and without Harry or Ron, how will she cope? [AU/Dramione] Prevalent alchemy. Rated: M - Chapters: 70 - Words: 306,322

Thirteenth Night by Nelpher: When Hermione is assigned to keep tabs on a memory-charmed Draco, she is faced with a decision that could change her life forever. Rated: M - Words: 77,997 Chapters: 23

Ordinary People by inadaze22: “Let me be clear about something tonight, Granger. You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted. It’s always been you.” Draco steps in the fireplace, drops the Floo powder, and disappears in a burst of green flames. Rated: M - Chapters: 18 - Words: 133,759

This, Too, Is Sacred by HeartOfAspen: COMPLETE: An ancient power has required generations of purebloods to pledge their lives to the blood pact. Draco has long known he was born to uphold this tradition… but Hermione’s parents have secrets, hidden details about her heritage, and soon it will be her turn to cast in with fate. [Dramione AU] Fantastic cover art by Witches-Britches. Rated: M - Chapters: 23 - Words: 90,994

Gravity by luckei1: It’s about arranging stacks of books, wall colours, and jumping off a cliff. Draco/Hermione Rated: T - Chapters: 10 - Words: 87,155

Dystopia (new version) by Rizzle: Kidnapped and expecting to be abandoned to his fate, Draco Malfoy writes a personal account of recent life, love and loss after the end of the Second Wizarding War. His story encompasses two unforgivable acts, a wedding, a divorce, a kidnapping and maybe, just maybe…a rescue. Rated: M - Chapters: 15 - Words: 19,885 

A Slow Cruel Descent by SenLinYu: The war grinds on and Hermione Granger is captured. Unable to crack her through interrogation without risking her mind, Voldemort conceives a cruel method of breaking her that involves Draco Malfoy. “He stared at her in disgust. She looked— broken. The fire she’d still had when she was dragged in was now extinguished. Her eyes were locked on his face like she were memorizing him.” Rated: M - Chapters: 2 - Words: 8,687 (Sequel: A Fragile Ascent)

Heavy Lies the Crown by luckei1: For seven years, Draco has carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and just when he thinks he’ll be released, something happens that will make him seek help from the last person he could have imagined. Rated: M - Chapters: 36 - Words: 289,967

To Wear a Dragon’s Skin by creativelymundane: When Bellatrix Lestrange takes control of the wizarding world after the demise of Voldemort, the remnants of the Order keep fighting. Seven years later, Draco brings Hermione a piece of magic that might be the key to finally ending the war. Together they will destroy Bellatrix Lestrange or die trying. Violence, Implicit Rape, Sexual Situations. Rated: M - Chapters: 26 - Words: 137,484

A Pound of Flesh by PennilynNovus: One night at a strip club, Hermione is faced with someone from her past, and an opportunity too good to pass up. What starts as revenge quickly grows into something else, and she may find it to be more than she can handle. Limes, Lemons, M. Rated: NC-17 - Chapters: 33

A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy by Countess of Abe: Draco loves his son more than anything in the world. So, when his ex-wife plans to take his son away, Draco asks the most unlikely person for help. Hermione must decide whether changing her entire life is worth helping the man she hates unconditionally. Rated: M - Chapters: 25 - Words: 136,998

Apple Pies and Other Amends by ToEatAPeach: “It’s a veritable PTSD tour. With pastries. And hand-skimmed clotted cream. And Hermione has no idea why she’s doing it, but it’s becoming very apparent that she is.” Sometimes you’re sad. Sometimes you need dessert. And sometimes, it’s a little of both. [COMPLETE, DRAMIONE] Rated: M - Chapters: 30 - Words: 80,226

Fairy Stone by Colubrina: Draco is sentenced to one year in Azkaban, release contingent upon someone willing to vouch for his good behavior. Hermione does. “Oh, I want you,” he said. “You, just you, always you. You forever and you for always and you until the bloody sun explodes.” Dramione. COMPLETE. Rated: M - Chapters: 4 - Words: 13,827

The Mountain and The Sea by Alexis.Danaan: Hermione Granger was perfectly happy with her life, her job as a Healer Trainee, her ugly cat and her cute little house in the countryside. And then Draco Malfoy had to go and mess that all up, typical git. Post-Hogwarts, EWE, OOC, creature!fic. 18 Rated: M - Chapters: 12 - Words: 43,464

Celestial Navigation by phlox: Lost, without direction, unable to find your way home? Coming soon, a new Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes Ekeltronic to guide you on your journey! *Your mileage may vary.*Rated: T - Chapters: 3 - Words: 13,640

Waiting Room by Nelpher: A series of encounters with Draco Malfoy in the waiting room at St. Mungo’s teaches Hermione about love, friendship, and the intersection thereof. Rated: T - English Words: 61,418 Chapters: 14

Voices by Kyonomiko: Hermione has long accepted she might not make it through the war alive, but after years on the battlefield, she never expected to be at the mercy of Draco Malfoy. Not untouched by his own experiences, his manic behavior leaves her living in constant fear of the unknown, suffering both affections and afflictions at his hands. Rated: M - Chapters: 3 - Words: 19,724

Friend Number Three by riptey: COMPLETE - How do you deal with the Pureblood aristocracy, Ministry corruption, Muggle culture invasions, and constant questions about your love life while juggling more than two friends and not being a total jerk? Don’t ask Draco: he doesn’t know. D/Hr Rated: T - Chapters: 26 - Words: 138,388

Seven Days In April by inadaze22: They were still the same people with the same problems on either side of a bathroom door. Rated: T - Chapters: 7 - Words: 40,097 

Everything Changes by inadaze22: “Thank you for cheating on me, Ron. It’s the best thing you could’ve done. Thank you for stopping me from making the worst mistake of my life.” My first Dramione story. Rated M for strong language and sexual content. Rated: M - Chapters: 17 - Words: 76,191 

Out of the Silent Planet by ianthe_waiting: Post-Hogwarts - Hermione Granger fulfills Severus Snape’s final wish, to journey to Japan to ‘retrieve’ something of importance. Set eleven years after HBP. Rated: NC-17 - Chapters: 39 - Words: 229,710

Ardent Bonds by Musyc: Maybe it was wrong to think about this, maybe it was horrible to even consider, but if Draco Malfoy liked to dominate, she couldn’t stop herself from picturing it. Picturing him. Rated: E - Words: 16,741 - Chapters: 1

Seven Times by kerriclifford240879: Seven times can mean a lifetime of change. Rated: M - Chapters: 7 - Words: 16,526

[scandalousfemale]

Ch.2 The Safety Dance

Chinese!OC x Kelce

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Zombies were meant for apocalyptic movies and TV shows where one could binge watch for a day and return to their mundane life. But something happened, a lab test went wrong and suddenly the outbreak started. This story takes place exactly three weeks after zombies slowly started to take over the planet.

Series master list

WC: 6,726

Warnings: Violence, mentions of familial death and murder, THIS IS A ZOMBIE APOCALYPTIC FIC, there are mentions of weapons, we’re looking at someone’s wounds here, fighting, fear, ptsd, trauma, greasy old men being gross, please be aware that you are responsible for the media that you consume

A/N: I want to thank every single person who supported me this far. If you’re reading this it means that you liked the first chapter and you’re back for more! That means more than I can ever tell you because I love writing this series so much. Of course, it does get a little bit hectic because there are so many characters to take care of so thank you for little notes along the way from @rafecameron​ and a million thanks to @millyelliot​ for being my BETA reader and holding my hand while I cry lol I hope you all enjoy getting to know my characters a little more.

Waking up in a tour bus bunk was what Kaili felt waking up in a coffin would be like. The space was small and dark, and if it wasn’t for the quiet chatter towards the front of the bus, she’d believe that this was her own personal hell. She’d barely remembered falling asleep the night before, she must’ve passed out halfway through the movie and someone carried her to the bunk. If only so she wouldn’t be disrupting the flow of the common area. 

Kaili made it a mission to learn about the characters in front of her today. She needed to know if she could trust them, even though a small part of her told her that she could. She pushed back the curtain to her bunk and slid out of the hole she had slept in only to find Kiara and Sarah on the seat next to the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes to adjust to the sunlight before giving them both a small smile and then indulging in caring for her hygiene that she hadn’t been able to do in weeks. 

“The boys have breakfast outside,” Sarah offered a sweet smile and Kaili couldn’t help but smile back. She nodded and exited the bus onto a RV campground. The people in the surroundings must be familiar with the area and faces because not one person looked out of place. She took in the rows of RVs around them, noting that privacy was a privilege that not a lot of them had, if there wasn’t a door next to yours then you were lucky. Maybe it was because no one wanted to park next to a bunch of kids or maybe it was the intimidation of trying to get out of a parking space next to the monstrosity that they called a bus but the few spaces next to them were empty. Of course, there could also be other reasons as to why the spots were empty but Kaili didn’t allow herself to dwell on the thought for too long, willing herself not to get sad about their current situation. 

It didn’t take long for her to spot everyone she was looking for. JJ was holding a map, huddled with Pope as an older gentleman stood next to them, speaking quietly and rushed as he pointed out spots on the paper in front of them. The man couldn’t have been any younger than forty, his disheveled salt and pepper hair and tired eyes did not compliment the wrinkled green shirt and khaki shorts he was wearing. Kaili didn’t notice that she was focused on making the guy out until someone cleared their throat in front of her. 

Rafe was cooking rice and beans in a pot over some fire, which made her wonder why they didn’t use the fully equipped kitchen they had indoors. He eyed Kaili as she stood by the door way of the bus trying to take in her environment. She stretched and it did not escape her that it was the first time in weeks that her joints didn’t creak and crack as she moved around. She finally moved from the doorway and sat down next to Topper on a lawn chair. 

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked though she was already sitting down next to him, giving him a small smile though he barely looked up from his radio. He must’ve been looking for something specific because he went right back to messing around with the dials, switching from song after song until he found the news he wanted.

She ate her breakfast, or lunch, in quiet. She didn’t say much to anyone else and neither did the boys say much to her. It was nice, she had to admit, to be able to eat and take her time or not have to worry about watching her back, though it doesn’t mean she stopped being aware of her surroundings. The storm clouds settled over the camp as she saw a man in the distance and if it were any other situation and she was with any of her friends, she’d tell them that that’s one of the sexiest men she’s ever seen.

She might’ve gone up and made a move had it not been for an apocalypse going on. Even if the guy’s shirt rode up just a little and she could see the muscle on his pelvic that creates the V…or even how his arms are flexed from carrying the plastic bags. Kaili licked her lips and as she helped herself to eye candy before quickly diverting her gaze when the man started walking towards her. Her cheeks immediately heated up when the man got close enough for her to recognize who he was. 

The smile on Kelce’s face, though small, proved that he definitely had seen her make eyes at him and if dying of embarrassment wasn’t such a shameful way to go in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, she’d have done it. 

“What do you have there?” Kaili inquired about the bags Kelce was holding, hoping to ignore any thought she’d just had for him.

“A couple of trades,” he replied, getting the hint but his smile was even wider now. “Since we’re headed back to the market tomorrow anyway, I felt like it was time to get some new things.”

“What do you mean?” Kaili tilted her head, not sure what he was talking about. 

“In the campgrounds, people trade goods, since money doesn’t really mean a lot to them right now. So, say I have a pancake mix with no stove, it’s useless, right? But you have a stove and you’re dying for pancakes but I’m not giving it to you unless you give something back. So, then the question arises, what’s it worth to you?”

Kaili raised her eyebrows at the man in front of her, really taking the time to drink him in. Almost like JJ, everything he says kind of has an edge to it. Even when he’s laughing or telling a joke, there’s a hint of either pain or anger that she can’t quite place. Of course, there’s the fact that he’s sexy but also that he looks, for lack of a better word, strong. His shoulders are wide and he holds them back like he knew he could take on anyone that comes his way but he also has scars running from his knuckles and disappearing into his long sleeve shirt. When her eyes met his hard brown eyes again, she could tell that he had just sized her up as well.

“Apparently a lot,” she tilted her head as he motioned to the bags he had placed next to Topper. 

“Not enough,” Topper interjected as he rummaged through the goods that Kelce had brought back. “We need food and weapons.” 

“We’re getting food tomorrow from that grocery store Wheezie pointed out,” Kelce brushed off his friend’s criticism. 

“And if it’s cleaned out by tomorrow? What then? We’ll be hungry until the next place we can find,” and though what Topper was saying did make a lot of sense, she could also see that Kelce brought back things that might be of necessity. He brought back clothes for layering, winter hats, and a bit of canned foods.

“I’ll go back in a couple of hours, a lot of people aren't awake yet. Talking about trading though, you might want to start setting up our spot. Maybe something good will come to us instead since you have such a problem with how I trade,” Kelce bit back. And as much as Kaili wouldn't mind watching two boys argue with each other, she’d much rather do anything else. So, she excused herself from the friendly fire and ducked back into the bus to rummage through her bag, there had to be something in there that she could trade. All she had was maybe a couple of days worth of spam, if only for a person, and extra knives. She also found four switchblades and of course, her extra change of clothes. There was also a mini sewing kit she refused to part with and the bags filled with medicine that she wouldn’t mind parting with some of her inventory.

As she separated what she was willing to trade and wanting to keep, a little girl had sat down on the seat next to her.

“Do you always carry those?” Wheezie pointed to the knives on her weapons belt now strapped around her biker shorts from last night.

Without breaking from her task of separating which medicine was necessary to them, she answered back with a simple, “yes.” Because since she found this belt and the knives with Wei, she hasn’t.

“Why?”

Now, that had made Kaili stop to look at the girl. Her glasses pushed back against her face as her curly hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head. Then she realized that some people weren’t exposed to the horrors of the world just yet. Maybe Wheezie was protected enough not to see a family member dismembered in front of her. How she wishes she could say the same.

“It’s dangerous out there.”

“But you don’t have to worry when you’re with us. Plus, Topper said the only people on the campgrounds are the living and breathing ones.”

Finishing up the bag she was willing to trade, she wrapped the handle around her wrist to make sure no one could pull them off, “Wheezie,” she said the girl’s name for the first time as she stood, “humans are the most dangerous of them all.” 

“How?” The younger girl asked, a flash of doubt already crossing her face.

“Because you know what zombies want. They want to kill you. With humans, you don’t know what they want. They will smile to your face and then have an ulterior motive.”

Wheezie took a pause to think about what had been said and right when Kaili thought the conversation was over, she had turned to leave the bus, Wheezie stopped her in her tracks.

“You don’t trust us, do you?” It was a heavy question that had no simple answer.

“I want to,” was the best way that Kaili could explain it. Then Wheezie nodded at her as Kaili left the bus. The cold wind hitting her legs first and causing goosebumps to appear all over her body. She hugged her arms around her body, thinking about going back inside and putting on her long pants and long sleeve again but honestly, she couldn’t be bothered. 

She hadn’t even made it past the floor mat that was being set up at the end of their bus yet when a voice called out to her to ask where she was going. 

“I want to see what I can trade,” she said as she looked at Kelce’s face and if she hadn’t known better, it would’ve looked like he was upset. But he couldn’t have been upset at her, she hadn’t done anything to cause that reaction. 

“I’ll come with you,” he said and Kaili would have protested if it looked like he was going to give her a choice.

After disappearing into the bus, Kelce came out a few minutes later holding a Letterman jacket with the name SMITH printed across the shoulders on the back and a small bag of his own.

“Wear this,” he pushed the jacket into her hands as he easily took the bag away from her so that she could stick her arms into the holes. And so she did. She mumbled a small thank you to him before grabbing onto her bag again and followed Kelce’s lead. 

It didn’t take long for Kaili to get a peek into Kelce’s plastic bag, it was all filled with hygiene products such as deodorant, dry shampoo, and razors. Which made a whole lot sense as to why the trio she met at the pharmacy started throwing everything they saw in their bags.

“Remember what I said,” Kelce all but whispered next to her, “you have to know what your product is worth and how much what you’re asking for is worth. Some people will ask you for more but you have to be smart about it.”

Reaching the first group of people that seemed to be trading, they had set up all of their products on the floor. Two guys with guns standing beside the blanket as if they’ll guard it with their lives and honestly, Kaili wouldn’t doubt that they would. Even if what they were selling wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Just a couple of magazines, jerky’s, and individual bullets. She hadn’t noticed but somehow, as they walked around and bargained, she had stepped closer to Kelce. Or maybe he has stepped closer to her. There was just a level of security being next to him that clouded her judgement, that made her squeeze next to him when someone else tried to step into her bubble. Something that made her feel alright when his arm came around her to move her out of the way when a brute pushed his way through the crowd. 

Kelce was a natural at communicating with the traders. She was surprised to find him to be a people person because of how closed off he was in the bus but even now his eyes looked more distant than ever making her think that maybe he wasn’t really a natural, he was just trained very well. 

At one table, he traded in canned corn for beans and then whispered in her ear that beans were better because they are heavier so that they would stay full longer and she guessed that made sense in a bus full of growing boys. He’d also traded two razors, shaving cream, and a deodorant for one blanket. Causing Kaili to raise her eyebrows in question. 

“People, during a crisis, usually don’t think too far ahead. Maybe they don’t think they’d survive that long but all I know is that winter is coming very soon and we don’t have enough blankets for everyone to stay as warm as we need to be.”

As Kaili looked at Kelce there was an edge to his tone, “and you don’t trust that the bus would take you very far,” she concluded, saying the words he didn’t. 

His face gave a hint to smile and the playful gleam to his eyes made him all that much more attractive, “it’s big, hard to maneuver, no matter what Topper says. I also don’t miss how everyone else looks at it. These are just the early days, people aren’t so desperate yet but they will be and they’ll see our vehicle,” she didn’t miss how he didn’t say tour bus, “then it’s only a matter of when, not if, we’ll run into a group big and strong enough to take it from us.” He shrugged as if she should’ve already worked out the equation in her head. Maybe she was too busy enjoying the luxury of the shower and the bed to think twice about it but he was right and she hated that she wasn’t able to pick up on how people looked at that bus at the end of the camp. 

“Are you prepared? When that happens, I mean.”

Kelce smirked and spared a glance around them before he brought his hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear and lean in. To anyone else, it might look like he was about to kiss the nape of her neck but he stopped to whisper her a sweet secret instead, “I’m a great shot,” he leaned back with a wicked smile. She didn’t miss how his eyes flickered to her parted lips right before she averted her eyes and began walking to a new group of people who seemed a bit more rowdy than the rest. 

“Where’d you learn?” Kaili attempted to regain her breath, she didn’t need a distraction. Not now. Not when the world is crumbling.

They passed people huddled around radios, some listening to the president’s speech about how everyone was ‘all in this together’, it made her want to laugh but also cry at the same time. The people hidden away in mansions with gates and guards were definitely not fighting the same fight as the ones who were on the streets. Others were listening to the news about the widespread pandemic. Kaili didn’t stick around to listen but she caught a couple of sentences, talks of vaccines or having the whole city sprayed from the air were talked about being in the works.

“My father loved to hunt and he didn’t believe in doing anything we weren’t the best at,” Kelce's smooth voice broke through her line of thought and she welcomed it, “that’s how I learned.”

“So you’re telling me I’m standing next to the best shooter in wherever you came from,” she’d meant to tease but her tone came off a lot more impressed with him than she intended it to be.

All he did was nod once, never losing the smile.

“Lucky me.”

A group of guys that were causing a bit of a ruckus were trying to draw attention to their small tent as they pushed a couple of people out of their way to drop the heavy bags off of their shoulders with a thud. She could hear the metal clanking against each other and she knew exactly what they were before the men began to unzip the bags with a bright smile on their faces.

“Fuck,” she heard Kelce say below his breath next to her when the guys started pulling out guns and machetes one after another. She had wondered how many stores or maybe even homes they had raided to be able to accumulate their stockpile but that was a thought she pushed to the back of her mind when she saw a sniper with a stand and a machete that looked sharp enough to cut someone’s head off. She knew that she needed it. One of them would be a great service to the group if they were able to strap the sniper on top of the bus, it could help them with enemies, humans and zombies alike. As for the machete, it would be a better use for her because she wouldn’t have to get too close to her target and that was a privilege that her throwing knives did not allow. 

She was the first one to step in front of the men, “what are you willing to trade with?” was her question, not taking her eyes off of the weapons.

“Well, baby, what are you willing to offer?” one of the greasy men with handlebars mustache had stepped before his friends and asked her.

“I want the sniper and the machete with the black handle,” Kaili didn’t waste time as she got on her knees and started pulling some products out of her bag, “I have spam for days, a Swiss army knife, and pills. I have medicine for anything you think you need. Asthma, anemia, you name it and I got it.” 

The man didn’t waste time stepping in front of her kneeled figure and putting his hands on his hips, “you know what? I kind of like my little porcelain doll like this. How’s that for a trade?” the greasy man said as he looked over her shoulder and Kaili noticed that he wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to Kelce, as if asking him for permission to trade the weapons for her. Hearing Kelce chuckle behind her, disgusted, her lips curled about to give him a piece of her mind before the man was off of his feet and slamming onto the ground on his back. Kelce on top of him in an instant, his hand wrapping around the guy’s shirt while the other fist met the man’s cheek. 

“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” Kelce’s jaw ticked as the man’s friends were now at their side but before they could even touch him, Kaili pulled two blades from her thighs, pointing the sharp instrument at their throats.

“Gentlemen, I don’t think this is a very nice way to conduct a business, don’t you agree? Now, before you get a tiny bit ahead about yourselves, I think that my offer was very generous. If you don’t believe so, that’s fine. We can walk away,” Kelce grunted behind her but she kept talking, “what do you say?”

The shorter man in front of her with red hair, freckles, and green eyes looked to the other one beside her, “Abby is asthmatic, we’ve been trying to find a pharmacy forever and you know we don’t even know what we’re looking for. The name’s all different and weird, man. I mean, I need it.” The other man seemed to agree so with great caution, Kaili looked them over again before sticking the knives back into her thigh band.

“I have salmeterol xinafoate, fluticasone propionate powder. I actually have a couple of those. I have a couple more other brands, I’m not really sure what Abby takes but they come with inhalers. Here,” Kaili gave them the bag which still also included the spam, not worrying herself with Kelce as he was still talking to the guy but at least they were off of the floor now. 

The green eyed man took the bag gratefully as his friend shooed away the crowd that had gathered around them. Telling the people that if they’re not going to trade then they were basically wasting their time because no one was fighting today.

Kelce hadn’t mentioned standing up for her the entire time that they had looked around for more supplies and she didn’t bring it up. Not even when he glared at the man in front of her when she wanted to trade one of her throwing knives for a power drill. Yes, it was completely useless to the man selling it but for her, it was the only way to attach the sniper to the top of the bus.

After a couple of rounds to some other families, they’d finally made it back to Topper packing back up.

“What the fuck?” he looked at them with wide eyes as he saw the new found weapons.

“Is this not what you asked for?” Kelce said, already defensive but he was quickly distracted when he saw what Topper and Kiara was putting away, “how’d you manage that?” he pointed to the soggy used-to-be-frozen pizza in Kiara’s hands and something that might have looked like it used to be ground meat, Kaili wasn’t sure.

--

Dinner wasn’t half as bad as she assumed it would be but, then again, she wasn’t one to be picky. Earlier, when Kiara was fixing dinner with JJ, Kiara had the help of Rafe to put up the sniper on the rooftop and she was quite proud of the purchase, if she did say so herself. Rafe was also kind enough to praise her a whole total of one time. She must’ve been getting through to him. 

“Hey,” Kelce nudged her with his leg as she shoved half a piece of kiwi in her mouth, courtesy of Sarah. She learned it’s best to just not ask anyone where they got anything and appreciate that they were willing to share it with her.

“If you teach me some of that first aid stuff, I’ll teach you how to shoot.”

“Wait,” Kiara squeezed her way into the spot in front of them, “teach me, too. I can teach you literally anything you need to know about cooking or mixing pre cooked food.”

“You guys know I’d teach you this without expecting anything in return, right?”

“Don’t,” Kelce advised, carelessly grabbing onto Kaili’s knee as he spoke, “don’t do anyone any favors without something in return. Including us.” 

Kaili kept her eyes on Kelce’s hand until he pulled away from her, her eyebrows arched in question.

“What Kelce means in ‘rich people mentality speak’ is that if we can offer you something in return, you should take it. Like his jacket,” Pope pointed out and though his words could have been taken as a snarky response, she didn’t take it like that. She also chose to ignore his latter statement.

“What I meant was what I said,” Kelce refuted.

“Well, what you said came off kind of gross,” Kiara sided with Pope as she rolled her eyes. 

“Good thing I wasn’t talking to you though, isn’t it?” Kelce’s voice stern but collected and Kaili could see it now. He didn’t have the air of a free spirited person the way that JJ, Pope, Kiara, and John B did. He was more put together in a way that he felt he always had to present himself. That brought her back to what Pope had just called him, rich. Of course, she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t seen it before. The way it was so easy for him to talk to strangers in such a charismatic way that it almost seemed practiced. Instilled. He was rich and that meant that his friends, on their own side of the firepit, Topper and Rafe, had to have been rich as well. Not like it mattered anymore, as Kelce said, money doesn’t get you much in the streets.

“Okay,” Kaili announced when Kiara made a move towards Kelce, “so I can teach you both, or all of you, first aid but I refuse to do it if it’s inflicted from one person to the other. So, stop getting at each other’s throats.” With a nod, Kiara had a triumphant smile as she plopped herself down beside Pope and JJ.

Feeling Kelce’s eyes still on her, she shrugged, “what?” but Kelce didn’t respond. He just shook his head at her, a small smirk on his lips.

Kaili was about to head inside to see how Sarah and John B were doing when the man that JJ and Pope were talking to earlier today came towards them with a map. The middle aged man looked like he was about either about to flee or pass out at any moment by the way that he was fidgeting and looking over his shoulder. Kaili definitely didn’t like that. A man who looked like he was running from another kind of demon. He wiped the back of his palm across his sweating forehead even if it was one of the colder nights that South Carolina has seen this past week. A part of her wanted to reach out to the man and tell him that he doesn’t have to worry about looking back as long as she was in front of him but another part, told her that he might’ve just brought trouble to her door step and she didn’t want to comfort that. 

Pope had motioned Kiara to get up and follow him inside of the bus, a small act that Kaili caught.

“I found the map,” the older man said, JJ immediately moving next to him as he laid the map close to the fire, the only thing illuminating any of them on this dark night. She’d found herself moving closer to what seemed like a torn up and taped map of the United States, red and blue markers decorated the paper with lines and x’s. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at though.

“The guys, the military, man. They’re just picking people up left and right and they’re separating the men and the woman and I can’t have that. I can’t lose my girls,” he was still pointing to the x’s on the map. Kaili cleared her throat as if for either of them to explain to her what was happening since both the man and JJ seemed lost in their own world. 

“Right,” JJ said as he looked to his friends and Kaili, “This is Mark,” JJ said without glancing back at the man, “he’d came up from Florida and he said that it’s a shit show down there. Bodies scattered on the street and then turning into fucking zombies. His stories are...something else, man. Apparently, Georgia is just taken over by the military now. They are snatching people up and no one really knows where they’re taking them, so I think it’s time we seriously think about leaving the east coast. He’s taking his family to Canada and they’re passing through New York to do it, he said it’s the safest way and I kind of believe him?” JJ ended his statement sounding like it’s a question. 

The blonde boy sat on his knees as he traced the map, showing the group which route would be the easiest but there was an uneasy feeling bubbling up inside Kaili. It’s impossible that Wei and her were wrong but then again, does this mean that they would’ve been doomed either way? Before panic could take over her a hand came to her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Are you okay?” Kelce asked her, eyes scanning her face as if he was waiting for any signs that she’d vomit her dinner on him but all she gave him was a shake of her head before she turned back to JJ who was still rambling about the roads.

“No,” she said as she stood, realizing that she’s declining both the men who were talking. All eyes turned to her and she took in their faces. Except for the man with the map, the boys surrounding her had such sweet baby faces and she will not watch another person die in front of her.

“I’m from Maryland, everyone there was basically told to go south because everything started in New York and though that might not be true, I can honestly tell you that Maryland is gone. There was nothing left there when W—, when my cousin and I ran.”

“You’re wrong,” Mark confidently said as he stood up himself, eyeing Kaili like she was the new threat, “nothing could be worse than the south and passing through New York is the easiest way to get to Montreal.” The conviction in his voice almost made her believe it, if she hadn’t seen the horrors of the states above them herself.

“Okay, so even if New York isn’t the epicenter, let’s say the news had lied, you’d have to actually get there alive and there’s a chance Canada will not let you in. Then what? You turn around and go back the way you came? The plan leaves you cornered and vulnerable. You need to think about getting gas in those states. States I’ve just told you aren’t safe.”

“You think I don’t know about getting gas? We have to stop for that anywhere that we go anyway,” the man insisted.

“Okay,” Topper tried to interject but Mark took a step forward. Kaili didn’t miss that he wasn’t the only one to do that. JJ is now standing, staring at the map in his hands. Topper is glaring at the space between Mark and Kaili.

“Listen,” Kaili took a breath before she continued, “I don’t have a say in what you guys do. I was only brought in to help your friend, I’m not dumb enough to think otherwise but I do know that we will go our separate ways if you want to go up north.” She declared. She took a pause to shake her head as the images of her parents clouded her mind, “I can’t go back there.” She softly whispered. 

“Then it’s settled,” Mark spoke, his speech hurried as he took the map back from JJ, “leave the girl before she gets you killed and take my advice. Go north,” he gave JJ a quick nod and made his way back to his family. 

The silence that he left behind would’ve made anyone else uncomfortable but not when she was lost in her head. She just wanted the flashbacks to stop. 

Topper gave a quick nod to the guys and walked back into the bus, along with Rafe, probably going to talk about the best way to leave her behind, she assumed. 

“How many?” JJ asked suddenly as he sat in front of her and Kelce was still beside her. Feeling a bit uncomfortable that she’s the last one standing, she reclaimed her seat.

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“How many people have you lost, or watched die, however you want to put it?” And the question squeezed her chest tightly. She didn’t want to think about it but it was all she could think about as she dug her nails into the part of her thighs that were exposed.

“Five, that I know,” she said with an exhale, “my parents first, they were...eating my aunt and uncle in law. Then I lost my little cousin three days ago. She was barely sixteen,” tears swarming her eyes as she squeezed her leg tighter. 

JJ nodded in understanding, “I lost my dad,” he said as if the memory doesn’t affect him but the strain in his voice gave him away, “he was an asshole but it still hurt. He’s actually the first zombie I saw. I thought he was high as fuck again when he came at me but then he didn’t stop. Even when I broke his arms. So, yeah, I killed my dad. How’s that for fucked up?” He released a humorless laugh. 

“I lost my parents,” Kelce said next, his voice low and JJ winced as if he had already heard this story. Of course, they all must’ve. “My dad had killed my mom when he saw what she had become. She was trying to attack my little sister so it really only made sense but when he came to, he just looked at me and shot himself. He couldn’t take it, I guess. Not that he cared that he’d be leaving two kids behind.” Kelce said in disgust, “and then I told my sister to stay close, stay next to me so I can protect her. I told her that it was the only way to make sure that she was safe but when we got to the ferry for the mainland she wouldn’t stop crying and crying about her friends. I mean, I get it. She’s thirteen and she cares about them, too, but before I even realized it, she was gone.” 

“What happened to her?” Kaili hadn’t realized that she was holding her breath.

“I don’t know. She sent me a text before our phones went off. She said her friend is sailing across the Atlantic, that their parents have done it before and how she wished that I’d listen and I’d gone with her, but how could I have been listening when I was thinking about our safety? You know? She said that she had called my name and that I’d just kept walking into the ferry, following my friends.”

“Is that why you don’t talk much? So you can listen?” Kaili asked.

Kelce shrugged, “when I’m not thinking about her, sure.” He turned away from them both. JJ offered her a small smile. 

“See, you don’t need to suffer in silence here. We’ve all gone through something,” and though it was true, it still didn’t make her feel better. “So when you need your space or you need to work some shit out, let us know. We’ll listen or leave you alone, whichever you prefer.”

And just when Kaili was about to thank them for their kindness, Rafe showed up at the door, “so are we done having a heart to heart or are you guys going to sleep out here tonight?” He said. But there was something in Rafe’s voice that betrayed the cold exterior he was trying to portray and she wondered if their little heart to heart was heard by everyone else in the bus.

“I should probably check on John B anyway,” Kaili excused herself, ignoring the grumbles behind her as the rest of the boys told Rafe that was uncalled for.

The energy inside the bus has shifted, more than likely Topper and Rafe had filled the girls in on their change of direction and Kaili’s inflexible heart. She was aware enough that it was probably her trauma speaking when she said she wasn’t going back. She knew that maybe the information could be right and maybe she could be wrong but that doesn’t help the fact that her body was rejecting the idea of even going. Yes, she’d be alone if they left without her but she wasn’t going to ask them to change their minds either if it was already made.

She made her way into the bigger bedroom at the end of the bus where John B has taken up space right now after washing her hands and her arms, making sure that he was going to be as protected as possible. The boy looked to be sleeping the night away but at least his color was coming back and the sweating had stopped.

Hearing someone come into his space, almost as if instinct had taken over, his body stirred and he opened his eyes, tension leaving his body when he found her standing by him. 

“You’re looking better,” Kaili offered a small smile as she sat beside him on the bed, asking if she could look at the sutures she performed on him.

“All thanks to you,” the boy said as he lifted up his shirt, wincing as he moved, “I was sure that I was a goner,” he continued with a faraway look in his eyes. 

She maneuvered him in a way that made it easier for her to look at the stitches without having to undo the entire bandage on him.

“What even happened?” She inquired and though she knew not to pry, it was curious to her that in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, someone would die from blood loss from a wound instead. “I know your friends said it’s a knife wound but it looked like you were stabbed with something a bit more...bigger? Thicker than a knife.”

“Are you telling me you don’t believe I fought off a whole bunch of pirates for their boat so we could cross over to South Carolina safely?” John b joked as he offered a flash of a smile before Kaili shook her head with a small laugh, making sure that his wound was looking better and not infected.

“Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t either,” he began, “I was trying to run away from some zombies with my friends. They’d all jumped over a fence and I guess I over shot it or under shot it, I don’t know. I was jumping and then the next thing I know, a part of the sharp end of the metal fence was in me, I didn’t even really feel it at first, my only thought was like I hope that Sarah hasn’t left without me—because we were going to her house to get her, you know? I don’t even think that I screamed.” 

“He most definitely screamed,” Pope said at the entrance to the bedroom, “I know you’re not supposed to remove the thing lodged inside a person but it was either leave him there or pull him out and we’re not really in the habit of leaving people behind.”

“Lucky you,” Kaili sweetly said to John b as she looked to Pope, “to have friends willing to risk their lives for you.”  And this she said to the both of them. Afterwards, she’d gotten up from the bed, John b had nodded returned to closing his eyes and Pope excused himself to the kitchen.

Kaili had washed her hands again, thoroughly before returning to JJ’s side as he put on another movie for the night.

“So, I think our best bet is just going west to California,” Rafe announced to everyone in the bus, sparing a glance at Kaili.

“What?” Kaili asked, confused.

“You’re not going north and we’re not going south. We sure as hell can't swim the ocean so we’re going west,” Rafe explained and left no room for discussion as he turned back around to Topper and right then, her heart might’ve mended itself a little bit tonight.

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