#she might become a crime boss some day we shall see

[sinsofsinister]

one updated blorbo and one new one top: daniella 'danny' carpathia • when twilight strikes bottom: galina 'galka' viktorovna morozov • vendetta

[battlestarbean]

Just a random little Mr. Queen ending, nbd.

I have Lingering Mr. Queen Feelings, and like a good number of folks out there, they mostly revolved around the ending, which I felt, to put it diplomatically, was not as amazing as it could have been. So! to exercise this nonsense from my body I wrote up a little ending myself, deeply unbetaed, all apologies, but it did the trick in easing the itch just a little bit, I think. 

In the end, the decision to stay was simple. Breathtakingly so, though that part could have been the deep spreading ache in his back from where the bullet had tried to punch through his body. I came here for no reason and I am leaving, he thought wildly for a moment, thoughts broken up by the dizzying pain spreading across his ribcage and his inability to draw a full breath. But now, now , there was a reason to stay---wasn’t there? He swears for a moment he can hear the quiet beeping of a monitor in a hospital and he thinks NO with every last bit of strength left to him and the sound fades.  Cheoljong’s face hovers above him, drawn in misery and terror. He tries to reassure him, remind him that they have a job to do, that the final boss awaits him still. Joseon is still waiting. It is the moment of wretched indecision on Choljeong’s face that seals the deal. Somewhere, through the pain and confusion, something inside him sighs and settles. Well, the something seems to say, that answers that. 

He watches Cheoljong stride away, glorious, bruised but not beaten, full of glorious purpose as he approaches the palace. Then a cramp rolls through his stomach and the pain starbursts through his body, spreading in all directions but centered low in his belly. As his world goes black, he only has a few seconds to think, ‘Baby. Baby. My baby’ and then strong arms are pulling him up and off the ground, and he sinks into the awaiting darkness.

He’s been here before. It’s quiet and still in the water of the lake. The depth is fathomless and only a strange light illuminates the water. As before, So-young floats up to meet him, and though she says nothing, she understands her perfectly. 

If you stay, she is telling him, you cannot go back. You will be there, in my body. A body so different from your own. 

He nods, he knows this. Unbidden, he remembers agonizing over the first time he had slept with Cheoljong, how he had bleakly mused that it had been good---maybe even better than before. Even as he’d freaked out, he had marveled at that realization. He had wondered what it meant for him, what that meant about him.   Even now, in this space-in-between, he feels his face heat as he remembers the closeness of their bodies, the breathless, helpless noises that had escaped from his throat despite his efforts, the exultant words whispered over his skin, shared breath and the relentless drive of the king’s hips, leaving him pinned and at the mercy of a pleasure he had never experienced before, despite his previous sexual adventures. 

But he knows he’ll miss his old body, just like he knows he’ll miss real bathrooms, and living in a glittering modern city, and soju and beer and his dick and-

Despite all that, when he thinks about being back in his time without Cheoljong, without this man, who has become, against all reason, his person, his ally, his partner-in-crime, his love---a rolling darkness, a bleak grief so overwhelming creeps up from his  and through his body like an unrelenting wave and threatens to come pouring out of his mouth as an unending wail. He had thought his life was so perfect. He thought he had known and experienced everything worth knowing and experiencing  How could he possibly go back after realizing how wrong he’d been?  

He has always been a bit selfish, but never stupid. 

I will make it my body. I will treat it well, and it will be mine. Where will you be? He asks. Here, still? 

I will move on, she says. There is quiet sadness there, no doubt, but also firm resolution. I thought the only decision I could make that was fully mine was to end my life.  This life isn’t mine anymore, it’s yours. She tilts her head thoughtfully, braid softly floating behind her,  I suppose some part of me will be here, as you’ll have my memories, but---this life that you’ve built. This child--They are clearly yours. 

His hands press against the floating folds of his hanbok. Genius baby. 

He then feels a trickle of real fear for the first time since they snuck back into the palace. My baby. My little one--

If you go back, she says,  you must endure. It will not be easy and I cannot promise--I cannot promise your safety or your child’s

You don’t need to promise me anything, he says, we’re going to be just fine. But as sure as he may have sounded to her, and in his head,  he’s noticing that he can feel the cold bite of the water now, and there is a dull ache starting to radiate out from his center.  He can feel himself being pulled away, This is your last chance, she says, serene as ever. Make your decision. 

He closes his eyes and---

He feels his back arch in pain, and his insides are being torn apart. Spike after spike of stabbing agony radiates from his middle, and he can no longer lock the screams from behind clenched  teeth.  He feels a hand grip his and maybe it’s better that the pain is forcing his eyes closed because he doesn’t think he could take it if he had to see the desperate hopelessness he knows is written on Choljeong’s face. He is so stoic, his king,  but he has seen how he takes it upon himself when those he cares for are hurt or in danger, so he doesn’t need to see to know how much he aches to take this pain away from him, frustrated at his inability to do nothing, nothing but watch and pray like the rest of them. 

The tonic he is given soothes him for a minute and he sinks into oblivion again. With the few coherent thoughts he can gather he prays. Stay with me, Sweet genius baby, Stay with me. We’ll be such good parents. We already love you so much. I need to be the chance to be the equivalent of a Joseon helicopter mom. I need to show you how to encourage peace but prepare for war. I need to teach you how to cook and beat your dad at gambling and---

He wakes up after who knows how long, his body aching, and  warm sunlight filtering through the room.  Cheoljong is crying and clutching his hand and for a minute he remembers the blood and the pain and his heart skips a beat, but then he hears the doctor’s murmurs that they have both made it through the night. He can barely move, he’s still so tired, but he’s so thankful, so so thankful. Thank you for choosing to stay with us, little genius baby’ he thinks, and takes the deepest breath his sore, exhausted body will allow him and smiles. 

He has to take it easy for a while, Hong Yeon and Court Lady Choi hovering like nervous, deeply beloved birds, but he assures them that exiling the Queen Dowager and the Grand Queen Dowager to the Western Palace has greatly strengthened him. 

The days turn into weeks and the baby grows and grows, delighting and terrifying him in turns. Only when he contemplates labor does he wonder if he made the right decision to stay with Cheoljong, but then the baby kicks and Cheoljong smiles that ridiculously goofy smile, the one only Bong-Hwan gets to see, his nerves settle and he sighs. Ah well, he thinks, at this point, the only way out is through. Let’s do this.

He does wonder, sometimes, about the future. If they truly rewrote history, if their successes here change Korea for the better. He misses soju and beer and clubs and dancing and modern conveniences like aching occasionally. Sometimes while musing he’ll catch the king staring at him, kind of sadly, like he knows he’s thinking about something he might never understand. In those moments he turns to Cheoljong with a smirk and says, “Shall I tell you more stories of the future?” Cheoljong lights up, when asked this, and Bong-Hwan doesn’t for a moment fail to see how much his ‘tales’ draw Cheoljong in, and he knows that sharing them with him is a kind of reassurance, to him that he will never leave the king’s side. He remembers how Cheoljong fretted in his own quiet way, when he recognized how little Bong-Hwan smiled, and he certainly won’t forget those ridiculous-ass faces he pulled in an effort to make him do so. To think that he could only be seeing those dumb faces in a history book (if they changed the future, and honestly, something tells him they definitely did) fills him with a yawning emptiness that can only be remedied by pulling Cheoljong close and whispering, ‘Let me tell you about Blackpink.” 

[littlemisssquiggles]

So Oscar is planning to kind of be a double agent and sabatage Salem's Inner circle. This could mean he might be planning to sow discourse within the group and let's be honest he does have experience seeing petty conflicts within the groups being with the heroes. And as we saw plenty of times the villians have there own conflicts with each other, the question is who will be easy for Oscar to either manipulate or switch to his side?

Hey Crystal. I think the answer to that question is pretty obvious, especially given the events of the last episode. I’d like to believe that as of now---Hazel Rainart, Emerald Sustrai and even Neopolitan are the most likely to make the switch from serving Salem.

 We know for a definite fact that Neo is obviously displeased by her experience at being a pawn for Cinder Fall. While Neo is used to being a lackey, given her history as Roman Torchwick’s right hand woman, at least with Roman, it was evident that there was more to their bond than that of the typical crime boss and loyal side kick dynamic. Neo cared a lot about Roman and he in turn cared for her when he was alive and definitely treated her with more appreciation than what she receives from Cinder Fall.

Then there is Emerald---since V6, Emerald has displayed doubt in her stance in serving the main villains. Based on what she told Ruby back during the Battle of Haven, we know for a definite fact that most of Emerald’s willingness to cooperate with Salem’s schemes is due in part to her loyalty to Cinder. As a matter of fact, I remember Emerald dead ass saying that she doesn’t care about Salem.

“…I don’t care about Salem but I owe Cinder everything…” 

I believe that’s what she said to Ruby back in V5. Therefore, Emerald bears no loyalty to Salem and mainly followed her out of her devotion to Cinder Fall. But as we saw last episode, I think based on her reaction to what Mercury said---I believe now Emerald is starting to see the truth in what Mercury told her. 

At the end of day, Cinder doesn’t care about Emerald. No matter how much Emerald does her best to prove her devotion to the Fall Maiden, it is never reciprocated at all. And given Emerald’s reaction to seeing Cinder being punished by Salem, I think that was her realizing that she herself has chosen the wrong side. I think what Emerald does next will define where she truly stands and I’d love to think---at least I’d hope to think she would chose the side that agrees to help Oscar thwart Salem’s schemes. If not for herself then…perhaps out of some twisted resolve to save Cinder from destroying herself further before Salem does, y’know what I mean? That’s how I see it.

And finally---there is Hazel. I’ll admit, I was worried about (and rightfully upset with) Hazel following the events of the fourth episode. It definitely bothered me a lot watching Hazel enact his vengeance on Ozpin through Oscar. However, after hearing Oscar voice that Hazel was “holding back” with him, it’s clear to me that while Hazel is upset with Oz---it probably makes him uncomfortable being forced to do so through Oscar---the eyes of an innocent child who honestly has no place in this fight.

It wouldn’t surprise me if Hazel sees a bit of his sister in Oscar since, according to him, she was “only a child” too when she went off to become a huntress of her own choice that Hazel still refuses to accept.  Not to mention that throughout the shared shots of Hazel with Oscar, you can clearly see Hazel’s apprehension.

When Oz confronted him on his choice to follow Salem, you can see that even through his rage at Oz, there was a bit of apprehension with Hazel due in part to Oscar. I think bottom-line, Hazel wants to avenge his sister but he doesn’t want to do it through killing another innocent child. 

If Hazel killed Oscar to avenge Gretchen over Oz, then how would that make him any different than the man he constantly accuses Oz of being?

Not to mention that when Oz brought up Salem bringing the Relics together, you can see Hazel’s confusion. One thing that I’ve always wondered is how much has Salem disclosed to her followers about the Relics. It wouldn’t surprise me if, much like Oz, Salem never told her followers the truth of what would ultimately happen should the Relics be brought together.

It wouldn’t surprise me if Salem has been manipulating her pawns on false promises---making them submit to the fact that the only way to achieve their ultimate goals in through her when in reality, all she really wants is to watch everything burn.

My hunch is that the reason Salem wants the Relics is so that she could bring about Judgement Day and have Remnant wiped from existence out of her own selfish desire to finally be able to rest. After all, in the Lost Fable episode, the Brother Gods told Salem that so long as the world turns, she shall walk its face.

So long as Remnant exists, Salem will never be free of her wretched curse. 

So I feel this is what Salem wants in the end. Not to become a goddess or rule Remnant (since she already achieved this during her time with Ozma in his second lifetime as Diggs) but to die. 

I think ultimately Salem wants to end her own curse and she’s selfish enough to take all of humanity and Remnant with her, just like she did long ago.

It makes perfect sense if that’s her ultimate goal given the events of the Lost Fable. But I highly doubt this is something that her followers know. After all, would you honestly be willing to follow someone who you know was working to end the world that you need to live in in order to achieve your goals?

It wouldn’t shock me at all if none of Salem’s pawns know the full truth about the Relics. All the more reason why I think it would be very easy for Oscar to make them switch sides using this info. I have a feeling Hazel would definitely be one to turn for sure. I don’t know what promises Salem made to him outside of revenge on Oz for Gretchen but I feel like Hazel would be among the first to side with Oz---at least, he’ll side with Oscar.

So yeah, to reiterate, I expect Hazel, Emerald and Neo to turn first. 

Mercury might take some added effort. But I think eventually he’ll come around too since deep down, I think Mercury cares more for Emerald than he lets off and being the Emerald Merc shipper that I am, I think it would be pretty sweet if Mercury asked Emerald to join him with Salem, promising to love and care for her in ways that Cinder never could or something like that. 

It’d be very sweet if despite his own abuse and hardships and despite growing up never feeling love from anyone, if Merc grew to desire to give the feelings he never got to someone who he sees shares in his loneliness. It’d be sweet to see Merc change for the better cause deep down he does genuinely care a lot for Emerald and it would be great to see her be the one to persuade/influence him since for the most part, Emerald has been a follower---not an influencer, y’know what I mean?

As for Tyrian and Cinder.

To put it bluntly, I thinkTyrian Callows would rather die than betray “his goddess” so he’ll probably follow Salem to literally the end of the world whether she kills him via Judgement Day or of her own hand. 

As for Cinder---Cinder I don’t know anymore. After watching her backstory, I don’t know what the showrunners plan on doing with her. While I’m still very skeptical about a Cinder Fall redemption arc (despite her history with Rhodes hitting me hard), I’m getting mixed signals on what the showrunners’ true intentions with her are. 

I don’t know whether to stick to my own theories on Cinder potentially usurping Salem at some point and becoming the new Red Queen and leader of the Grimm or…prepare to retrieve my jaw from all the way over in China after it plummets through the center of the earth at my mere unadulterated shock at the showrunners actually making Cinder a “good guy” after EVERYTHING this crazy chick has done over the seasons.

As for Watts---I’m sure he’ll cave faster than an avalanche once he learns that he can’t take out his bitterness and jealousy towards Pietro and Jimmy Ironwood from the grave.

So yeah XD That’s my answer to that.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[iggy-of-fans]

Of Being a Ladybug part 2

So, Paris is about 6 hours ahead of Metropolis . So if Marinette sent the message at say… 8 pm, and Jagged got it at 9 because he was at dinner, then getting lawyers straightened out and all that ...say Marinette starts school at 10 am, then it would be approximately 4am in Metropolis. It would be a 7 hour flight, meaning she'd leave at noon on Monday, and arrive at 2am on Tuesday. 

The cons of being a reporter. 

TUESDAY 2AM Paris 

Lois was as excited as she was exhausted. Paris! She'd always wanted to go to Paris. As her taxi drove her past the Louvre and she could see the Eiffel tower in the distance, she couldn't help but remember the call she received yesterday. 

"I know it's early, Lois, but I have a job for you in Paris" Bruce said from the other line. 

"I'm listening." 

"The satellites from the Tower have been picking up irregularities. Burning buildings, the Eiffel Tower toppled or completely missing, then the next pass everything is normal. Hal even claims he saw a giant baby on cams once. I've gone over all the pictures of the last year, a couple of weeks ago there… I can't explain it. I'll send you the images and we'll try to find a believable cover story for going in the middle of the school year like this"

"I understand, thank you Bruce. I'll book the earliest flight I can." Burning buildings? The Eiffel tower toppled? Nothing had been said in the news. If something on a grand scale like that were happening, they would already know. 

"Thank you, Lois. I will of course pay for your accommodations while there," Bruce offered. A consolation for sending her around the globe for film effects. 

She barely got a "thank you" out, before he hung up. She flopped back onto the bed, Clark raising an eyebrow at her. Of course he'd heard both sides of the conversation, so he obviously had his own opinion to share. 

"Well? What do you think?" she asked him. If Clark gave it some weight, she might take it more seriously. 

"A video was sent by the Mayor of Paris about a year ago, asking for help because his city was being overrun by stone monsters and their only hope lay with a couple of kids. I watched it and it looked like some cheap special effects and deleted it like the other publicity stunts people pull. Diana was the one to notice the inconsistencies with the Eiffel tower, and she swears she saw a couple kids flying on rooftops. It's why Bruce started investigating. But he has no reason to be in Paris at all, since Wayne Enterprises doesn't have an hq there, and he wants to save that excuse for if there IS any trouble. Anyways, try to enjoy your little vacation while you're there" Clark smiled. 

"... Does Bruce know the mayor called for Justice League intervention?" Lois asked slowly. This… Was… Not… happening. 

"No? I mean, just some publicity stunts, Lois. We get 20 of them a day" Clark dismissed. Lois was beyond words so she got up and started packing, and turned on her civilian phone to call for a flight. Before she could get dialing she got a call incoming. 

"Penny? Is everything okay? WHAT? YES! Of course I do! That's huge! Yes, let me just call my boss…. Oh? Oh wow! Thank you! Yes, I'll see you tonight… Or I guess tomorrow for you…yes. I understand. Thank you" Lois couldn't believe her luck. She grabbed her JL phone and called Bruce. 

"Bruce! I've got a cover! I've been asked by an old college friend to interview her client and a few others on Parisian TV. Yes, totally legit, she just called me… Penny Rolling. Yes, yes Bruce! I will keep my eyes open. Did you know the Mayor tried to call for JL intervention a year ago? No? Clark told me there was a video but thought it was a publicity stunt. Maybe try to find it and give me a heads up… okay… Thank you Bruce. That'll be perfect! I'll get to the bottom of this… Okay, thank you."

Finally done with the update she rushed to call the airline. 

" NOON?!"

Before she could take in the breathtaking view any longer, the cab stopped. Lois paid the fare and stepped out and looked up. It was a beautiful hotel, owned by Mayor Bourgeois. The cabbie was loading her bags onto a trolley with a Bellhop waiting stoically by the doors. Just as Lois went to inquire about Penny, the door opened and out she came. 

"You cut your hair!" Lois exclaimed, giving her friend a hug and a LA Bise. 

"You, my beautiful ginger, are late! Had you arrived a few hours earlier you would have had quite the show!" Penny said with a smile. She'd always been jealous of Lois's hair. 

"It's Paris, Penny. How exciting could it possibly be?" Lois asked jokingly, wondering just what her visit here would truly reveal. 

I was going to end it here, but I believe I owe you all an action scene 😉 

MONDAY 10AM PARIS

Ladybug flew over buildings in the direction of the explosions. She really wished she'd had a chance to see the classroom before leaving to see if she would have to once again go up against Alya. Or Lila. 

Maybe if she was lucky it would be another unfortunate soul altogether. One she hopefully didn't know personally. Because it was starting to really take a toll on Ladybug, every time she came face to face with a friend or loved one. 

Before she was ready she was at the scene. And she was shocked. The Akuma of the day was a barely visible outline of a woman. She had a flowy garment on and only became visible when she touched a person. The person would immediately admit to bad deeds, anything from finishing the ice cream container to more horrible crimes. 

Ladybug watched as a couple hid behind a vehicle to escape the fate, only for the akuma to lift and throw the car, one handed, into another vehicle, creating another explosion. The akuma drifted ghost like towards the couple and became fully corporeal as she touched them, first the man ("I tapped your phone! I hated how much time you spent always going out!" he blurted out) then the woman ("I  can't stand being with you!" she screamed back). Ladybug swallowed. This was not good. A non corporeal being with the strength of ten men and the ability to… Spill secrets? Ladybug wasn't sure, but didn't want to get too close before she had the full story. She went to grab her yo-yo to call Chat, only for him to pop up, baton swinging. 

"What have we here? Another scary movie victim?" Chat asked, drawing all eyes to them. Ladybug wanted to scream. Or toss him off the building. Once! Just. ONCE! 

"I… am Guilty Conscience. That voice that should tell you not to do bad… It Is too quiet in most people's heads. So therefore I shall make you scream your misdeeds to the world. No longer shall there be hiding behind white lies for innocence" the ghost whispered, yet to Ladybug she may as well have screamed. 

"Che, you're out of your league! I have a picture perfect record!" Chat smirked, ever brash and fearless. Without a second thought, he jumped off the building towards the ghostly form. And just as Ladybug predicted, went right through her. She did not become solid upon contact with a human unless she so chose to. Great… 

"Chat! Fall back, we need a plan!" Ladybug called, stepping back from the roof and readying her yo-yo. 

"Just lucky charm her and we can go out for coffee!" Chat yelled back, swinging his baton uselessly through GC. Ladybug shook her head. She was almost 90% sure they'd need more backup. 

"Lucky Charm!" she cried, throwing her yo-yo high. Down fell a teapot. Back up it is, she sighed. 

"Chat! Fall back, I'm going for backup!" she called out again. 

"Awe, but M'lady, I thought I was the only one you needed in your life!" she was sure he thought he sounded charming. She cringed. 

"Not now Chat. I'll be back in a while, keep her from following me but keep your distance. No need to waste your energy for now." 

Had she looked down, or paid more attention to her surroundings, she may have seen Lila hiding in an alley not far from the akuma. She may have noticed her trying to follow her. She may even have taken another route to get where she was going. Later she would regret not being more vigilant. 

To be Continued...

Looks like me tag list is officially full. I'll try to send the rest in the comments!

@sidd-hit-my-butt-ham @kuroko26 @northernbluetongue @zelladane @chez-pezeater @luciferge @vixen-uchiha @bluerosette23 @mochinek0 @krunchy-tuna @treebrosha @geekydragonyt @vivilakitty @sassy-spocko @bluefiredemon-blog @mindfulmagics @thornangelic727 @sidefrienda @xxmadamjinxx @thepeacetea @pandocatxd @whomthefyck @lamestplaceintheworld @miraculous-ninja @mikantsume @unabashedbookworm @kandi-pie @2sunchild2 @redsparrow12 @shamefullove @cadencehood @thatonechickathottopic @yin-390 @tazanna-blythe @bb-basbusa @zazzlejazzle @fanfictionaddict13 @royalchaoticfangirl @god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @slytherinsheashire @imanerddealwith @tinybrie @angelisalise @graduatedmelon @trickstermiraculous @ayuchan07 @thatrandomfandomsgirl @sweatyruinsstudentbored @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay

[dashielldeveron]

Viper VIII: Inter Vivos

*author slaps bumper sticker across ass that reads I BREAK FOR QUARANTINE* 

Summary: You have a thought that only Steve Urkel and black-out drunks can have: did I do that?

Warnings: swears, the law. Murder/death. Stupid internet comments.

Show (3719) Comments on “There is Nothing New Under the Sun, But You Are New in Your Conglomeration.”

skellingtonbabey: thanks for putting all of the *gestures vaguely* into historical context. no one’s ever bothered to explain this shit to me, especially in such simple and thorough language. it’s like every other resource i try to learn from is stylistically designed to make me more confused.

readyplayer69: Just because it’s from the 60s and is racist doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have intrinsic value based on the goal towards which it was working. You’re a fucking lunatic. I have a degree in political science, so I know what the fuck I’m about. Though some of the protests may have excluded the minorities you’re talking about, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t ultimately working towards good fucking policies for everyone involved. It’s not like they were doing anything important then anyway; white people had to be the mouthpiece for…Read More

volcanolesbian: bro have u seen the incels freaking out over this???? it got linked in their cursed forum and they SO BADLY wanted u 2 hate women now. like you can regress from being a feminist once you’ve woken up. they’re giving u shit bc you called out the racist terrorists who were active in their community lmao. i can post screenshots if u want. But bruv it’s like they haven’t read anything you’ve written before lol

mozARTsexandviolins: I get when you say that ingenuity spawns ideals for the greater good, but don’t you think tradition has its place? How do we know if the new can spawn the greater good? How do we judge ourselves? Who watches the watchers?

simpleplan2eatthedirt: cool cool nice nice.  protesting is awesome, but be sure to get out there to fucking VOTE, people!!! Here’s a link to register to vote.

EaterJohn: Hello. It is nice to hear from you again, Epiales. Always a treat. Very insightful commentary on modern and past protests. I didn’t know about all of the revolutions in Europe 1848. I’ve send this to my co, and it’s already sparked a good conversation about who we are as a protesting people as we stand in history. Again, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering when the next article in your “Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times” series was going to be released? It’s my…Read More

horneyvulcanbasterd: @mozARTsexandviolins Is that a Star Trek reference? Bc if so the answer’s Starfleet Command lol

MrsKatsukiBakagou: epiales. you have watered my crops and harvested my fields. thank you for the food.

mightiestavengereatmyass: eat shit and die, commie scum. your just a hired propagandaist for the fucking alt-left, aren’t you? You have no right to be running your collum in a real newspaper or on this fucking website. sending u anthrax in the mail would be too cool a death for you. I hope your so-called terrorist groupsfind out where you live and fucking murder you in the middle of the night. fukcs like you are the reason the country is going to shit the police have a total constitutional right int aht jurisdiction to enter. They had a no knock…Read More

fuckyouit’sjanuary: @readyplayer69 [image attached] [image description: blonde woman with caption reading, “I can tolerate racism, but I draw the line at looting the local target]

saltnpepa!!diner707: Hi. I’m trying to cite this piece in an essay, but your publisher isn’t listed on your website. Would you suggest using the NYT as the source in my bib? If it helps, this is due new week; idk if this will run in the NYT by then. Thanks

“I’m sending someone on a grocery run this morning,” said Tom, thumbs tapping away on his phone, “Do you need anything? Want anything?”

You glanced up from your laptop, closing it as much as you could without the light dimming. “I think I’m good, unless you used the last of the shredded cheese at some point.”

“Shredded…cheese,” he said under his breath, typing, “You mentioned capri-suns the other day.”

“Yeah, but I can tolerate the nasty, new flavour. No rush. Here’s a wild idea,” you said, and you waited until he looked up from his phone, a couple of ungelled curls falling over his forehead. “What if—now, don’t dismiss me as crazy; hear me out—what if we went to the store ourselves?”

“Again, no.” Tom grasping his coffee by the round of the mug, despite there being a perfectly functional handle. “Stop pressing me for it.”

“I’m not asking to go to a damn Broadway play. I’m asking to go to the closest 7-11,” you said, jiggling your leg and then making a conscious decision to stop fidgeting, instead scooting your chair closer under the table so that the arms slid underneath.

Tom hummed, his eyes not leaving his phone screen, but when you didn’t continue, he raised an eyebrow as he scowled at you. “Broadway is shut down because of the bomb threat.”

“Fuck off; you know what I meant.”

“Viper,” said Tom, and he locked his phone to set it on his napkin. “Do you want to get assassinated?”

“The term assassination implies I’m getting murdered for political reasons instead of the copious other crimes you’ve had me commit. So, I invite it.” Put your hands on the table where he can see them; it makes you seem more trustworthy. “Does 7-11 have an open carry policy?”

“If it’s any consolation, the renovated office should be waiting for you when you return.”

“It’s not.” You lifted your mug to your lips. “Working from here only makes me feel like a damn bureaucrat. Like I have no stake in the matter. I don’t want to become detached from everything; I might make a callous decision and send people where they can’t come back.”

“Keep watching yourself. If you stay on guard,” said Tom, running his middle finger around the rim of his mug, “then you won’t stray from me.”

“I’m useless here.”

“Then maybe you should become accustomed to the idea of being useless.”

Swallowing, you stared down into your tea. “There’s only so much I can get done through answering emails. Not to mention I hate answering emails. That’s how you get more emails.”

“Harrison has been telling me that your schematics have been more thorough since you’ve been holed up in here.” Tom tipped his mug all the way back to get the last of his coffee. “You’re still being just as productive, if not more methodical.”

“Did you mean obsessive? I have—I’ve had too much time to think. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts, if I can help it.”

***

You could only read so much before losing your mind. You could only deal with so many of the same exact problems over and over again for lower level soldiers. You could only chart so many stars. You could only read so much fanfiction (if your identity thief were tracking your phone, he’d probably be baffled as to why you kept reading fic for fandoms you weren’t even a part of due to the desire for new ideas).

You could only give Glory Pham so many excuses as to why you’re not with her in person at the Museum of Natural History.

Sucking in through your teeth, you hovered your fingers above the keyboard.

Dear Ms. Pham,

Glad to hear John Mulaney’s signed on. Next step would be to ensure de Blasio doesn’t directly interact with him, given their history. Perhaps I should proof his set beforehand?

Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that I cannot attend the briefing in person yet again. I am currently indisposed, seeing as I am currently in hiding at my hot boss’s house, due to how dead I might be should I leave it (thus the basis of its appeal). Not to mention that if you criticise my blazer choices again, I shall peel the skin off your perfectly made-up face. Get fucked; getting your eyeliner tattooed on was a hell of a decision.

You shook your head, backspaced the last few lines, and stretched towards the wicker end table to grab your glass of pink lemonade, and you stole a glance at Tom’s work as you did so. A couple of files spread across his white wicker lounger (two blue files [socials of the family], two green [recent bids], a yellow [Manhattan locations], and a brown [requests from politicians, upper East side]). The pink sticky-notes had your and his written exchanges and edits on certain papers, and his laptop was open, the screen dimmed, while he copied something into a notebook with his cell phone held between his shoulder and his ear, just listening to the computerised voice.

He had joined you on the back porch to work remotely, claiming he couldn’t go into the city today due to the absence of news on Zendaya—if any information arose, he’d said he wanted your diagnosis immediately.

You wiped your forehead with your sleeve as a sweat drop slinked behind Tom’s ear. Even Tessa wouldn’t run in the heat; she’d curled up by the porch railing, her tail slapping against her water bowl. In an experiment to see if she wanted to spend some time outside, you’d slid the glass door open for Trout, to which she turned around to retreat to the bedroom.

Not all of the clothes you’d ordered had arrived yet, so you were stuck wearing autumnal clothes with long sleeves. To exacerbate matters, you were constantly moving—jiggling your leg, tapping your fingers—you couldn’t sit still for very long anymore; you had taken to pacing the porch when you couldn’t concentrate on the stars.

(Once, Tom had come out at night to check on you, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and sitting in silence with you. He’d made you go to bed after a while, claiming you’d run yourself into the ground if you kept this restlessness up.)

When your phone beeped, the both of you jolted at the sound. Tom hung up on the robotic voice as you scrambled to your phone, and he bent your way. “Is it Zendaya?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you shook your head. “No. Looks like it’s a jailbreak.”

Tom sighed, his shoulders heaving as he eased back in his seat. “Where from?”

“I don’t even care,” you said, letting your phone fall to your lap. You slumped back in your chair, shielding your eyes from the sun with your arm. But you straightened yourself again and checked. “From Central. They don’t even know who’s all escaped yet.”

“It’d be too much of a gift if New York City would fucking relax for five minutes.”

“It seems like it’s in more uproar than usual lately,” you said, sipping through the reusable straw of your pink lemonade. “Do you suppose it’s our fault?”

Tom took a moment to pluck his damp t-shirt away from his chest. “I don’t think we’re instigating. If anything, we’re simply reacting to chaos.” He stood up and stretched, raising his arms above his head—his biceps strained at the sleeves, and the hem rose above his v-lines. “Unless you’re doing something I don’t know about.”

Ah, casual suspicion. “You’ve caught me,” you said as he approached Tessa and crouched next to her, “I’ve been running a koi smuggling gig on the side.”

“Why koi?” He held out his hand for Tessa to sniff, and she readily accepted his hand for pats. “Are they hard to get?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging, “but I’ve been wondering if they’d be able to survive in your grist mill pond. You look through that water straight to the bottom, nothing living in your way. Just rocks and old equipment.”

Tom sat against the porch railing with a jittery Tessa partially in his lap. “Should we get some?”

“Oh, fuck off, Tom,” you said, grinning, a sweat drop falling onto your mousepad as you shook your head, “You can’t entertain every little pipedream I have.”

“Watch me. What do you want for Christmas?”

You ducked your head, biting your lip. “Promise me something.”

“Provided it’s not my head on a stake, I will,” he said, scratching Tessa behind her ears and cringing a bit when she stretched to lick his face.

“Then we’re going in person to the pre-opening fundraising gala for the Gawain Diamond.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Viper.”

“Bitch, I got John Mulaney to sign on to do the opening monologue, and he’s probably gonna roast de Blasio again. I’m not missing that.”

Your phone blared an alert again, and both of you held your breath as you unlocked it.

“Got a list of prisoners who escaped. Small group. Delores, Larson, Duncan, Mays, Selvin,” you said, “There’s more, but I don’t know them. Tell us something important, by God. Anyway, we’re going. I didn’t say I was going alone, did I? You’ll be there. I’ll be safe, and you’ll be safe.”

His jaw shifting to the side, Tom stilled his hand on Tessa’s back, and then he lifted it to flick sweat off his neck. “How many of us maximum can you get in?”

“It’s a fundraiser for idiotic rich people; if there are too many people without a name, they’ll be noticed.”

“It can’t be just us.”

“Why? Afraid you can’t protect me on your own?”

“Now, don’t start that.” Tom herded Tessa off his lap and onto her outside bed. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Yes, yes, I’m fully aware you’re capable of ripping me in half,” you said, draining your pink lemonade, the airy suction coming through your straw (almost loud enough that you couldn’t hear Tom’s sputtering over it—almost—and his phone beeping). “Want me to get that?”

“Bring it here,” he said, and you snatched it while he sat on the railing, dangling his legs off the side.

“It’s,” you said, eyebrows shooting to your hairline as you read the little notification, “It’s a tweet from Zendaya.” You tossed it to him to unlock and leant on the railing next to him, arm grazing his thigh with a heightened awareness of how close you were to his sweaty, sweaty abdomen. No! No time to thirst. Friend time.

Tom unlocked his phone and held it at your eye level, turning it horizontally as he pulled up the tweet.

ZENDAYA (@ZendayaMedias): Felt cute. Might delete later.

[video]

Tom pulled up the clip, waiting for it to load. “Why didn’t she post it to instagram, then?”

“The finer details of social media are an enigma. Do I look like I know,” you said, and his thumb hovered over the play button.

He cranked the volume up before pressing play, having to try twice due to how slippery his fingers were. “I wonder if Haz has seen this yet.”

A vertical shot of a murky, grey sky from the bow of a boat and dark ocean as far as the camera can see. It pans across the starboard side, and this boat is the only one in sight.

Only the sound of waves striking the boat.

The camera tilts down. Zendaya’s writhing on the deck, furiously straining against rope bonds that line up the entirety of her arms and up her calves; she’s yelling furiously at the person behind the camera through duct tape.

Scuffed, black boots roll Z to the starboard gunwale. She’s still fighting, still shouting.

The camera trucks to the right; before, the pair of cinderblocks attached to her feet were concealed. It returns to her face. A glove grabs part of her hair to show the weights tied into it. She bucks up to headbutt the camera; he avoids it.

Tom clenched his free hand on his thigh. “We’re running another scan for that black-stubble bell jackass from her instagram; did we have any fucking leads at all? What’s his fucking motivation? So he slept with her, allegedly; did she say no to a second time? Doesn’t fucking merit—”

The boot kicks the cinderblocks off the boat, and the camera tilts down to follow the trail of bubbles.

It’s quiet.

But then the camera pans to portside, where the guy in the picture with Zendaya is similarly tied up, but he’s openly weeping and shaking his head. He’s got something drawn on his forehead in black marker. The cameraman steps closer to focus on it: it’s a circle with an upward curve resting on top of it.

He’s still wearing the bell necklace.

Then the cameraman backs away and raises a gloved hand, in which a gun is aimed at the other’s forehead.

The bullet goes through the circle, and the bell rattles as he’s kicked off. Fewer bubbles.

Then the camera tilts up to show off the boat’s surroundings: a black and barren ocean, as far as the eye can see.

When the video started to loop, Tom switched his screen off, his phone hanging loosely in his grip. You released of his thigh once you noticed you’d grabbed onto him, and the evidence of your touch faded as the fabric relaxed.

His eyes glossed over at the blank screen, and his mouth opened before closing again, running his tongue over his lower lip. Tom brought a fist to his mouth and furrowed his brow, his hand hardly concealing the growing tremble of his jaw.

You took a step away from him, rubbing your arms as you ducked your head. “I’m going back inside,” you said, hoping Trout felt like being clutched to your chest, “I’m cold.”

***

The next morning, your mouth felt heavy and dry. You sneaked out as the sun was rising to go hide in the woods surrounding Tom’s house, but you talked yourself out of it. He would make too much of a fuss if he couldn’t find you—but you could delay the inevitable conversation even further. Both of you had separated and kept to yourselves the rest of the evening. Kept quiet.

So you rounded the outside of the house. You’re not camping out in a fucking copse. When you reached the pond, you scanned it for a dry place to hide, but nothing really held any appeal, save for the rounded platform where the mill wheel used to spin, its spoke notches overflowing with moss. You managed to get to it after scrambling alongside the stones for a few minutes, and though it didn’t look like you could get down the same way, you settled against the wall, scraping some moss out of the notches so that your feet could rest more comfortably in them.

(Dr. Prine called ten minutes after you sent her the email. “Did you send me the correct article?”

“Yeah,” you said, rubbing your face wash onto your cheeks, “Considering it’s the only one I have ready, and I can’t bring myself to write anything. I tried. I just fucking can’t.”

“I don’t think you want this published at this point in your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. Whoever’s using my pen name probably knows who the fuck I am in general. Just publish it.”

“Honey,” said Dr. Prine, her voice softening (and fumbling, like she was holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder), “You should probably rethink this. It’s going to connect Epiales you back to Viper you. Get some sleep; eat breakfast. Call me back then.”

“It’s an appropriate article for the political climate.”

“Not for your personal life.”

“I don’t fucking care,” you said between splashing water on your face, “I don’t. It’s a good fucking article, and hopefully, it can affect people for the upcoming election. Fuck self-preservation. Send it to the Times already.”

“Did I dial the wrong number?”

“Hilarious, Dr. Prine. I know it’s not the smartest thing for me to do, but I can’t—absolutely can’t—write anything. I don’t know for how long, but for now, at least.” You blotted your face dry. “I’ve got to meet standard deadlines if I’m keeping my column. It’s really only dangerous if Tom reads it and makes the connection, and his brain is offline right now.”

And so Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times, chapter twelve, “The Political Tradition as Mob Rule,” would be published on Saturday. It’s a little too in the know about the mafia, but hey, you had written it on a whim a month ago, and you were known for your extensive research, anyway. It most likely shouldn’t be too different from your other exposés, though they weren’t on topics that were deliberately misleading the public by what information was out there.

The more you thought about it, it was almost like you wanted to reveal yourself, wanted to get stabbed while you were sleeping, because there’s an overwhelming question rolling around in your brain like a mis-weighted shooter marble: is this—)

“It’s not your fault.”

With crossed arms, Tom leant against the stone wall, his leg bent back for his bare foot to rest flat against it. He glanced sideways at you, sitting on your mill wheel perch almost halfway across the pond, but closer to the far side than to him.

He’s got major bedhead, his curls just fucking flopping about out of his part, and even from where you are, his face burned red amidst wet tracks trailing down it. Still, thank God for little mercies—his biceps were fucking straining the sleeves of his white t-shirt, and those idiotic, blessed grey sweatpants were low on his hips.

You lifted your head from your knees but still clutched them to your chest. “You’re not going out, then?”

“Of course not,” Tom said, and he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Can’t be crying during a meeting, yeah?”

“Been boxing?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not really.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip and sighed, and then he slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes glossing over while he watched the moss you’d picked off float in the pond.

You’re not going to fucking cry. Tom came out here for a reason. He has a purpose. All you have to do is wait.

Eventually, he said, “You’re avoiding what I said.”

You tilted your head.

“Listen, I know you’re beating yourself up about it. It’s not your fault this happened. None of this is your fault. Hey.” Tom tapped the wall, the travelling reverberations making you look up at him. “Whoever’s doing this is doing it of their own volition and not because of you. You hold no culpability for this.”

“Bruh,” you said, “One of your best friends is dead, and you’re comforting me? I thought I was the masochist.”

Tom scowled, his brow furrowing. “Viper—”

“I can’t interact with someone without putting them in danger, at a disturbingly high rate. You want me to enumerate where I’ve stuck my nose in not my business and people have gotten killed? Senator Hernandez, Isadora,” you began, holding up two fingers, “The nine men guarding Isadora, Maccabruno, Polson—”

“Don’t you dare do that to yourself.” Tom took a step forward, his foot almost curving into the pond. “You didn’t use the knife. You didn’t pull any triggers.”

“Yeah, but I sent them there. And a good many of them went because it was their job.” You sneered and propped your chin on your knees again.

“And it’s part of your job—”

“Yeah, whatever. Your friend is dead, and I have no home. I’ve stopped contacting the few people in my circle on the chance that they get dragged into this—Grace, Adrien—he’s the lights specialist guy, in case you don’t remember—I’ve got to email Glory, but that can’t be helped. And Dr. Prine only—fuck,” you said, dragging your hands down your face. “I don’t want anything to fucking happen to Dr. Prine. Or your family, for that matter.”

“Everyone not involved in the business is currently in hiding upstate,” said Tom, eyes narrowed as he glared at you. “If you like, I can ensure the same—”

“Stop acting so damn calm, Tom.” You let your legs dangle off the platform, hands clenching the edges. “I don’t have any strings left to pull. And fucking hell, I know that it would be extremely and absurdly conceited of me to believe that this series of crimes is aimed specifically at me, because how deluded, how arrogant could I get—but goddammit, this stuff feels a little too personalised. It feels like this person knows me.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Don’t you think it’s worth something that Glory Pham has been left alone? He knows how to get into Crosscreek, yet Glory hasn’t been touched. Is that not worthwhile?”

Your eyes watered, but you ducked your head so that he couldn’t see—but you released a dry sob (Fuck! Now is not the time for crying! Now is the time for being badass! Frown, or something!).

Tom spoke so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. “Do you want to leave?”

God, no. But it would make you feel like less of a burden. “Let me find an apartment first.”

“No, not like that. Hey, V. Look at me,” he said, and he tapped on the wall again.

You wouldn’t. Not like this. Not when your nose was running and when you didn’t have a plan.

“Please look at me, Viper.”

Glowering, you raised your head, lifting your chin higher than normal to seem confident, and oh, God—his eyes were wide and gentle; he’s leaning as far as he can over the pond, still unable to reach you.

“What I meant was if you wanted to leave the mob.”

It rang through your head like a distant cathedral bell, chiming through a deserted town—but then you were farther, out on the mountains, still listening to faint clanging.

“You’d have to kill me,” you said, shaking your head, “Don’t you remember?”

“Fuck,” Tom was saying, sucking in through his teeth, and after glancing at the water, he started jogging around the pond.

“I swore. I bled. And then even after that—then you knighted me.” You inhaled sharply when he reached the stones you’d climbed. “I’ve let you down.”

“Viper, get the fuck down from there and come here,” he said, and he withdrew, winching, when he stepped on a sharp edge.

“We shouldn’t have met,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him, and Tom froze, his hand partially gripping a hole in the stone wall. “I shouldn’t have taken the job. I should have gone to a different city. I should have—”

“Wasted your life away in the shadows? Just shut up and get down here.”

“Ah! The fuck?” You swatted his hand away when it grazed the platform, and when he climbed up another step, you pushed yourself off the platform and into the pond.

The first thing that struck you was how quiet everything was once the bubbles dissipated, and then you noticed how clear the water was, even from within it—glancing down, you could easily see your feet treading water above the broken grist mill wheels that had sunken to the bottom.

Before you could take it in to feel the emptiness in your chest, bubbles filled your vision again—and then his hands were grappling for you, grasping at your clothes, and pulling you towards the surface.

“I wasn’t fucking drowning,” you said, sliding a hand back through your hair, while Tom shook his head to flick off excess water. “I was fine without—”

“I know you weren’t.” Tom gripped your waist tightly enough to be painful, and he slid his other hand up between your shoulder blades. “I know. You wouldn’t die on me, and I’m not letting anyone else lay their hands on you. C’mon, arms around.”

He guided your arms around his waist, and once you had a good grip (hands sliding up his back), he kicked off to swim to the stone wall, backing you into it. Your toes skimmed the bottom of the pond, but Tom kept your head above the water, his thumbs circling your hipbones through your wet clothes.

Tom closed his eyes, his eyelashes heavy with water droplets. “There’s no solution to this where you die, got it?”

“Shucks.”

“I mean it. Talk to me. Tell me what you can.” Tom let out a breath slowly, and he bent to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “Please,” he said once you tensed up, his breath hot through your wet shirt, “Won’t you let me in?”

(Fuck fuck fuck fuck his chest is flush against yours; he’s so warm, so damn warm all over, and the water’s chill only makes you want to cling to him more, fuck.)

“You won’t like me,” you said, tentatively lifting a hand to curl your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly, “I’m not whom I’ve presented to you. I don’t have it under control.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Tom turned his head towards you; his lips almost grazed your neck (you relish their warmth anyway). “You wouldn’t be human, otherwise.”

“I don’t know an awful lot. Some days it seems like all I do is guesswork.” You grimaced but kept the slim distance from Tom’s mouth. If he wanted to, he would. “I’m lost completely on whoever the fake Epiales is. I keep looking for a pattern in everything, even—even so far back as to—”

You stuttered. Tom had pressed his lips to the base of your neck.

“There’s no consistency,” he said, nuzzling his nose against the spot where your neck met shoulder, “but there’s got to be a larger plan. I get it. The whole case is like a hydra, and we’re chopping blindly at the heads.”

(Oh, my God, he kissed you? He kiss the neck? He?)

“Oh! I forgot to tell you.” Tom pulled away to look you in the eye, and your mouth hung open of its own accord—come back! “I made myself watch the video again.” His jaw shifted. “To see if I missed anything, and I did. This time, I recognised the symbol on the guy’s forehead.” Tom lightly traced it onto your forehead with his middle finger. “It’s a zodiac symbol. It’s the one for Taurus.”

You nodded, still not really thinking at full capacity. “Great. Another piece of evidence that I won’t be able to make fucking sense of. Goddammit. I’m so useless. Goddammit,” you said, dropping your hand from his hair into the water with a splash. “Tom, I don’t talk to my mother much anymore. She doesn’t know where or who I am, and to be honest, I don’t know who I am, either. I don’t know where the truth is.”

You nearly slapped him when you cupped his cheek, like you were desperate, like you had to be touching him, skin on skin, that instant. It’d be nice if he would close his eyes and lean into your touch, maybe kiss your palm, but Tom simply stared at you in shock, eyes wide, brows raised, mouth pinched.

Don’t tell him, you whore. You built this fucking kingdom with its walls and bastions so that you would be safe when the outer defences crumbled. You’ve set aside parts of yourself into neat little boxes so that you can throw any of them away at any time and escaped unscathed. Don’t you fucking dare screw that up. Tom doesn’t know about Epiales so that you can expose and destroy him if you’re on his chopping block; it’s insurance for when everything falls.

Bitch, since when do you want to be honest and raw and vulnerable around anyone?

You can’t let him in.

“You’re still a woman of honour,” Tom said, and—oh, God, oh, fuck—he’s easing his hands down your body, his chest pressed against yours again, and he’s sliding them down your thighs to hook underneath your knees, and he’s hitched you up against the wall, the definition of his muscles real and palpable through the wet clothes, warm, warm, warm—

“I should apologise,” you said, turning your head to the side while he steered your legs around his waist, “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

“You can’t?” Tom shifted you upwards, and that’s it; your heat is directly against him; you can feel every pull and tensing of his tendons, and if he keeps moving the way he is, then you’ll—

“I’m so sorry for making this about me when Z was closer to you. We shouldn’t waste time on me; we need to be searching, arranging a funeral if we can’t find anything.” You scrunched your eyes shut.

“You’re deflecting.” Tom let out a shuddery sigh. “I’ve lost too many people. Don’t make me lose you when you’re right in front of me,” he said, and he pressed his lips right below your ear.

You flinched away on impulse but tried to relax into him, blinking profusely.

Tom pushed against you (not localised enough to qualify as a thrust), and he cleared his throat before pulling away from your neck. “Listen, please. Please.” He shifted your weight to one hand and gripped your chin with his freed one. His eyes flickered to your mouth before he moved to rest his hand on your cheek. “You’re invaluable. Irreplaceable. You are no burden and are not at fault.” He clenched his jaw. “But I know you’re keeping something from me, and I will make the answer fall from your lips soon.”

Your own chin was shaking, and he was too close. If you put aside separate-self-as-insurance for a moment, let’s consider Tom did find out about Epiales. Would he control you through it? Would he use you to influence those he couldn’t reach? Would he grab hold of Dr. Prine? He might squeeze your life and time through his fist, and your freedom would be gone. Epiales was your freedom, your space to create and connect.

He was too close.

“You’ve got to promise not to hate me,” you said, and when he raised an eyebrow, you made your decision to lean in.

“No,” he said, and—and your lips met his cheek.

He’d turned his head.

After all that, he’s going to turn his head?

“No,” he said again, taking your chin again and leading you away, back to leaning against the stone wall, “I don’t want our first kiss connected to the memory of mourning. I can wait a bit longer.”

Tom released your legs, letting them sink. “You once told me that if you let yourself be vulnerable, you didn’t want an audience. I think,” he said, frowning, “I think you still see me as an outsider. As a member of that audience. And again, you said that you didn’t want it if it weren’t real.” He stepped away from you entirely, and he started wading towards the edge of the pond. “I’m going to hold you to the same standard. I’ll wait until you’re ready to be real with me.”

Tom slinked out of the pond, flicking away what excess water he could, and he squinted into the sun on the horizon. He shook his head, water flying, and he glanced back at you and scoffed. “Easy, sweetheart. No need to wear your heart on your sleeve now.”

His voice trailed off as he rounded the corner towards the door.

The sun is rising, and you feel rather cold.

***

inter vivos: between the living

***

taglist: @hollandroos @madmadmilk @parkerroos @parsleysbaby @z-ukos @pparkerwrites @lunamyangel @stealth-spiderr @presidentbttrflyfreak @paradoxparker @bi-writes @astronomyparkers @infamous-webhead @laurfangirl424 @softspideys @gryffinpuffs @plethoraofpuppies @laucontrerasv @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @spiderboytotherescue @cassiopeiaskies

[unikornu]

Graceful Sin,

(shortie - words 2,223)

“After another argument between Lucy and Gage, the Overboss storms off to Parlor where she catches on a private moment with her pre-war boss, Harrison that recently made a come back to Nuka World. “

______________________

It was late and silent evening at Nuka Town with the exception of shouts coming from the Fizztop mountain which belonged to well known crocked couple, Gage and Lucy, arguing once again about Institute deals she forgot to mention and all confusion about newly arrived guest, Harrison, her pre-war shady employer. Lucy wasn’t the one to handle long arguments, especially against someone as stubborn and loud in complains like her fellow raider, no longer being able to stand the tension she turned around and just left, pushing the door behind her and going towards the elevator with a rapid steps, her blond braids swaying after her and hands clenched, moving to the sides.  

- Boss, shit, where the hell ya going again? Let’s just finish the talk, c’mon. Gage followed, almost ran after, grabbing her under the arm before she entered the elevator.

- We finished. The Institute deals are staying if you like it or not and so will our guest. She forced her arm out of his grip and looked at him, squinting her eyes in a threatening manner.

- A bit longer and they will settle up their own fucking lab right here with even bigger bunch of fucking synths. Even if Gage hoped for her to stay he just couldn’t let the complains go and it certainly didn’t help to calm down the atmosphere.

- He is not a regular synth but still a person Gage! And neither at Institute side, when will you fucking understand it and just let it go, jezz. Lucy snapped back at him and entered the elevator, pushing the button and refusing to listen anything Gage was still shouting through the closing in front of him door.

She leaned against the wall and sighted deeply, letting the nerves float away till elevator hit the bottom. Harrison arrival brought some good and bad news. Good for her that she managed to claim something back from her pre-war life, more than just a thing or souvenir but an actual same person she spend her last years with, before the world went to shit. Bad because even if Harrison was avoiding the Institute like a worst omen he failed to prevent from becoming bigger, Gage had a really hard time to see a remaining soul of an actual human he was and still is under the synth skeleton wearing his skin like a costume, not mentioning all the experiment that made him a supernatural entity, his soul possessing the body he still managed to recover from the pre-war lab. For Lucy it didn’t matter, since in the end they had each other and did care despite all the toxic work crime relations they went through.

Every time she was down Parlor always found a way to calm her mind, be it a theatrical rich environment of it, calm music and bottle of booze along with it, just chilling at the decorated by red silky cloth table with her legs rested on top of it, candle burning slowly in the background, letting her to light a cigarette. This time was no different with the only exception that it was empty, only a familiar tall figure leaning against a wall, Harrison himself, wearing his usual long gray shiny coat, smooth and clean, always looking like a gentleman that lost a feeling of time.

- Tough break, Feit? He nodded at her from under his round classic hat, sending her a shiny green glance.

- It’s that visible, is it? She asked in response, dropping heavily onto the chair and lighting up a cigarette.

- I know you too well so i see it instantly and sense too...in a way. Porter eh? Bitching again? He smirked with a corner of his lips already knowing the answer.

- Bitching? You seem to catch a local language quite fast, sir. She smirked back at him in a distance and puffed a smoke in the air, leaning back onto the chair.

- No choice but to try to fit in, helps to take away more of these curious eyes off me. If synth gossip cause such a stir around i would rather not let anyone find out what i am. He pushed himself off the wall and approached her, grabbing a chair on a way and taking a sit at the other side of the table.

- Institute still has no fucking clue about you and i will keep it that way. She crushed a smoke in the ashtray and placed her elbows onto the table, palms of her hands supporting her tired pale face, wearing a signs of stress from at least few days. Harrison noticed it.

- When did you....how to say it, chill out last time, Feit? You look like shit, no offense of course. He raised his thick black eyebrow at her.

- I don’t remember, it has been quite a busy time, cleaning after the bloody disciples and trying to set you up here, spread some believable information...i completely lost track of time. She brushed the inner corners of her eyes with fingers and looked back at him as he stood up and started turning his head around.

- What are you looking for? She asked, curiously.

- Something to help you relax, of course. His eyes stopped at the old pre-war   gramophone, still with a famous golden tube attached to it and a vinyl inside. He waved his hand, a bright green stroke of energy with smoke flew out of his palm as he wiggled his fingers towards it, putting a vinyl into a gentle spin as the needle slowly lowered to let the parlor room fill with the slow blues tunes.

- Nice trick. I think i remember this song. Lucy mind flew back to the times when there were still bars and dance pubs, filled with couples, talking, drinking and dancing after the work, including her but the only partner she remained with that time was the half empty bottle of booze.

- Me too. Harrison’s mind flew to the same pub she was sitting in that time but lacking a courage and clear reason to enter and just join her, especially hours ago his hands were all stained in her partner’s blood. He didn’t dare to even let the thought slip in his head but now that all reasoning and past got buried with nukes he took down his hat, placing it on table in front of her and leaned down, offering her a hand.

- You up for a short dance, to forget all that crap you seem to occupy yourself with now? The usual grumpiness of his face got replaced with an honest and soft smile, almost impossible to resist and say no.  

- Dance? I never thought you can dance, sir. Lucy couldn’t deny she loved to dance but in a raider world it was a very rare activity and with usual folks around it barely resembled a classic pre-war swinging. She hesitated for a moment but eventually placed a palm in his hand and let herself be pulled gently up.

- You still don’t know many things about me, Feit but yes, i can dance. My wife used to praise me before she kicked me out of our life. He looked down at her, realizing she might have a slightly harder time with their size difference.

- I feel like you gained a few centimeters since last time we met. She pointed out.

- Most probably...hmmm, maybe these will help. He looked towards a pair of high heel black sandals lying under one of the tables and used his powers once again to lift them up in the air and slowly bring into her hands.

- I think i left them there after last meeting with operators. She crouched down and swiftly changed her shoes, straightening up and arriving almost at Harrison’s chin.

- You already seem happier. So...shall we? He lifted his left hand up to the side, awaiting for her to grab it before he placed his other hand at her back.

- We shall. It’s been a while, indeed. She couldn’t hide her smile, swinging was always brightening her mood in no time, especially with a good company that knew how to properly lead.

- Sorry for shooting you...back then. Lucy apologized with a low, almost whispering voice, trying to fill a moments of silence between them.

- Well, i guess i deserved it in the end. He chuckled, his eyes brightening up in even lighter shade of green the longer they danced together. - Too bad the Institute made it alive in the end.

- At least they provide us some good weaponry we wouldn’t have otherwise. She shrugged, what has been done its done, she could only try to benefit from it.

- You got yourself quite a position here, being a what they call... Overboss, ordering people around and getting the job done, like you always did. He raised his arm and spun her around, pulling afterwards back and close to him, pausing for a moment, staring down at her.

- I never liked to be in charged so i’m glad you got back eventually. Even after two hundred freaking years you are still my boss, sir. She smiled at him, ignoring the sudden blush appearing lightly on her cheeks.

- Hah, you didn’t change one bit, i’m glad. He said with a lower voice, smiling back.

- Neither did you. 

He pushed off a strand of hair from her face, slowly leaning closer and closer to meet her amber gaze. She froze in place, not backing off but highly uncertain with the next move, her mind storming the thoughts as she couldn’t deny she enjoyed his company but image of Gage and their relations still made her turn away as their lips almost met.

- Shit, i..can’t. I mean... it feels awkward. Lucy admitted, dropping her troubled face to the floor.

- Uhm..no, its my fault, i enjoyed that little moment of ours a bit too much i guess, i apologize. He backed off, softening the grip on her hand, letting her to slip it away, turning his eyes to the side.

- Don’t worry, i still liked it, got my mind a bit off the usual shit. She brushed her shoulder and looked back at him, reassuring that this little accident didn’t ruin their view of each other.

- I think it’s better i get back to setting up myself at that disciple place. He walked towards a table, taking his hat and putting if back on his head, hiding the worry that his face was wearing till Lucy patted his shoulder as she approached him.

- Still thank you...for sticking around, i’m really glad to see you again...despite everything that happened. She said, with an honest soft voice that took away his sudden worry away.

He nodded back at her and left towards the exit, meeting Gage on his way out. They only looked at each other, almost saluting but not letting a single word out.

- Hey Boss...can we...? Gage paused, hearing the weird blues coming out of the gramophone, his face turning into a slight confusion.

- What’s up with that weird ass music? He asked, taking a slow steps towards her.

- What, you don’t like it? She asked, tapping the heel of her boost to the wooden floor in the rhythm of the sound.

- Can’t say, i’m just not used to it. He glanced down at her shoes and then slowly back up at her, crossing her arms, awaiting the continuation of his thoughts that brought him to Parlor.

- So...what else you have to say that you didn’t say yet. She tapped a finger against her crossed arms, looking at him at the same level this time, thanks to her heels.

- Right...fuck, maybe i went a bit too far with all that...talk we had before. Maybe it ain’t that bad. He brushed a back of his head with a palm.

- So, you are sorry. She couldn’t resist an evil smirk, sensing the apology in his voice.

- Yeeeeah, shit. Gage never liked to admit he was wrong or exaggerated in any way but ruining what they had would have been even worse in the end and he knew that.

- I can forget about it faster if you swing me properly around since i still have these on. She pointed down, sending him a seductive smile that he could hardly resist even if she was asking him for something he didn’t like as much as she was but in the end he was still agreeing for her good.

- Don’t worry, no one is looking right now. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him close, forcing his hands onto her back, right up her bottoms.

- You are asking for a lot here, Boss. He still grinned despite the soapy atmosphere surrounding them.

- You can always say no and turn away, Gage. She smiled and raised her eyebrow at him.

- I wouldn’t fucking dare. He took up on a challenge and pushed her even closer, bumping their foreheads and letting themselves be lost in their gaze as they swinged into the remaining track till the vinyl ran out of power, letting it end with a most tender kiss they both hungered for after every argument, let it be forgotten in a matter of seconds but her mind still drifted away for a split moment about Harrison’s move...  

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, For Dummies p4

a/n: any one out here wilding? i’m just vibing and writing comes when you ave zero braincells left...

Waking up was a struggle, you’d never slept that deeply or that well. The combination between a long, hot shower and Earth-shattering sex made it all too easy to sleep. You were so, so sore, but it was good. You admitted you hadn’t been fucked like that, heavens, at all if not for a long while. You looked at the large mirror across from your bed, lifting up your shirt. You had a few book-related bruises. 

Stretching and feeling out the fact that you obviously didn’t have your sea legs yet. Your knees and thighs were wobbling and weak.

Then you caught it in the reflection. The collar- your collar. You half- thought it was just a fever dream. But it was real, and it’s weight was light but suddenly very noticable. The ring pressed against your larynx, the bow at the back felt oddly graceful as you flexed your neck to get a better look. 

You finally allowed yourself to cry- this was what dreams were made of. (hey now, hey now!) You were exhausted already, you were happy. You felt light years away from where you were before the Master whisked you away. Hell, the last time you saw the Doctor seemed just a memory. 

So much had changed. You felt completely different. Yes, you had all your same traits, likes and dislikes. But a week with the Master? Chaotic, mind blowing, devastating, beautiful, enriching and most of all, beyond your wildest dreams and even your deepest darkest wishes.

You definitely were different. The collar around your throat and the bruises and sore, stiff muscles proved you were. Not only were you having a tea party with the Devil, but you were the Devil’s whore. 

It was wicked, and all too amazing. He treated you well for the most part. Very well. For only knowing you a week, he seemed to harbor no true ill will. 

You got dressed and wracked your brain, reconciling everything finally and putting thoughts in boxes where they needed to go. It was slow, but needed. And time really did not matter anymore. You splashed yourself with cold water from the sink and prepared yourself mentally for outside your solitary walls. You had no clue what was waiting outside and you needed to put yourself out of any more revieries that might pop up. You had a lot of thoughts, and a lot of places to add up. Obviously, pro and con lists were out of the questions these days.

You supposed if this was a standard exchange of power, that rules and limits would be in place, but there was already the imbalance of aliens with knowledge of all of history, time travel, and space. Humans were simpler and had an equal footing. Therefore it was always up for debate.

You were halfway through finishing your daily SPF and thought about what if’s. Where was this all going? You couldn’t ask, obviously. He made it all up as he went along as much, if not more than the Doctor.

Poor Doctor, you allowed yourself to think, picks you up from your mundane routine only for you to better fit in with her best enemy. 

Her loss, his gain.

Things added up, morals and ethics wise. The Doctor could be just as callous and just as insane, yet hid behind the greater good. She was a spoonful of sugar whereas he was castor oil. Twin sides of a coin…

You shook yourself from these thoughts. Too much to process in one morning for you, especially without caffeine to mainline. 

You finished up and made your way out after stretching and taking a few excedrin you found rattling around the medicine chest. This TARDIS was incredibly intuitive and even materialised all your usual products you used. Or maybe the Master read your mind and supplied them. Either way, it was a big help…

You made your way out and sat down to an already piping hot mug of coffee and a tinkering Master. Your heart and stomach gave a flutter. You rolled your eyes at your over-eagerness.

“You’re finally up, I was worried that I’d have to physically go in there…”

You sloshed into yourself, “How long was I actually asleep?”

“19 hours. I think that qualifies as a coma with you humans.” 

“I obviously needed to sleep.” You talked into your coffee mug. It tasted good. Strong, a little crunchy, very much the perfect cup you didn’t have to add anything to.

“Mmn, you made this?” You asked, pointing to the mug held loft in your hand.

“Of course, I know how to make coffee, spent years on the Outback of Australia, I got bored, I know how to be perfect at everything…”

“Yeah, sure, perfect at everything.” You rolled eyes again, this time at him. 

“I am the Master.”

“Alright, alright.” You gave a concessional hand. You stared into your coffee and contemplated breakfast. You weren’t usually a big fan of eating in the morning, but all things considered you scraped yourself away from the coffee and started looking through the cupboards to see if anything was appealing to you in the moment. Nothing seemed terribly tasty so you just grabbed a bowl of random cereal and some sort of liquid you assumed was oat milk by the scent. 

You felt his eyes studying your back the entire time, you didn’t know if it was in an observational manner or just perversely taking a peek at your backside. 

“You like the show?” You demanded jokingly. 

“Of course, pet…” He leaned back and placed the device he had down. It was a long silver and gold rod with three prongs at the tip. “I see my pretty little pet has found her pretty little treat.” He went over and flipped a strand of your hair and fingered the collar at your neck before stroking at your sternum. He smiled down and flexed his lips open. The lighting made his teeth glitter dangerously. 

The dim lighting really brought out a beautiful tone to his lips. You tried to return to your cereal, but you pecked him on the cheek and steered yourself to a seated position. Temptation could take a temporary back burner. You had to get some semblance of nutrition into you.

He joined you at the table. 

“I was thinking of a few ideas, but I wanted your input.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really, I can more than enough make my own choices, but to spice it up, why not get some feedback? What chaos shall be wrought today?” He bent over the table, disregarding the personal space needed to eat a bowl of cereal and let actual brain-processing happen. 

“What all did you have in mind?” You scooted back infinitesimally and tried to finish breakfast quickly. 

He quickly pointed to some post-it notes, “Here’s the name of an intergalactic crime boss who owes me a few favors, figured we could go and rough him up until he squeals, giving me the powerful weaponry we all know he has. Or, here’s a plan to visit a certain set of pepper pots and make some deals that most definitely will backfire, but it would be great fun to see them get frustrated and deny the fact that they can get frustrated. Or I was thinking of visiting Earth and teasing Torchwood and UNIT around early 2000’s Cardiff, you know, for funsies. Oh! What if we went back to Raxacoricofallapatorius and destroyed their nursery?” He was spinning around and fluttering between notebooks and sketches including one where he was strangling a person in an army uniform and a handlebar moustache. 

“Jesus, how fast does your brain go?” You massage your temples…

“Too much? Huh? What would you suggest then?” He pouted, placing a hand at his hip and jutting it out.

“Why don’t we just start slow and nothing Earthly? Crime boss seem good? Simple even…” You slurped the milk off the spoon, “But lemme finish Breakfast first!” Pointing it at him, “Slow your roll. Savor the day. Do you Time Lords even sleep?”

“Rarely.” 

“Wow, that explains so much.”

He querched an eyebrow, “And what would that be, love?” The love felt oddly formal, not like being called a pet. 

“I’ve only met two of you, mind, so I might be generalizing...but the high energy. Like... “ You pressed your fingertips together, “Napping? Don’t you enjoy finding a good place to sleep during the day and just sleeping and enjoying the restfulness and sensations of the sun through a window and maybe a breeze if you open it a bit.”

“No, I’d love to try it, sounds pleasurable…”

“And you said that you were the Master of Everything.” You false-scandalized then laughed, cupping his face and smiling at him. It was great. He really made you laugh in one of those cheesy, stupid ways.

“I could punish you for talking down to your Owner…” He teased right back.

“Oooh...dirty.” You gave a salacious wink.

You could feel the “You have no idea…” radiating from his pores.

“Come along, my pet…” He pulled you from the table and over to the console, “We got a crime boss to torture…”

He punched in the coordinates and grabbed his jacket, then pulled you out the door…

You were toasting your success in the newly acquired weapons-room that now belonged to, as he poured you a little more champagne. 

You oddly enjoyed helping torturing the poor sap. He squirmed and you enjoyed him blanching from pain. 

The machine you saw him working on was a laser screw-driver? And he gave it to you as he was attaching some high tech hand-cuffs to the man. He told you that the controls were intuitive and to “give it a whirl...see how that grabs you…” Watching the gross little green man scream and shake around, flushing and pleading- felt good. Felt powerful. It brought you a tingle of pleasure and you could see why the Master was fond of it. The device felt good in your hand and after the second whorl of your wrist, it felt like a natural extension. It felt right to hold it in your hand and be able to grasp such power. 

A bit of sadism? Then champagne? And the thrill of a steal? All felt like an adrenaline rush.

What were you becoming?

A shred of our conscience echoed about the fact that you, obviously, had to kill him, something the Master allowed you to turn into him and avert your eyes as he shrunk his body and flicked it into a drainage gate. He knew your limits and didn’t go past what he knew you could currently take. You grimaced a bit as you heard a tiny clink. That was a tad harsh. 

All in all, a busy day... 

He was busy cataloging and cooing at all the tech he had access to his as he put it “fun, evil plans”...

It was hilarious and so endearing to watch. He was like a kid in a candy shop. Soft, feral, incorrigible. 

You determined that a small nap whilst tipsy and moonstruck was a great gift to yourself. You felt the collar and played idly with the diamond heart until you blacked out. 

You woke up to him watching you. “One of those fabulous little naps you talked of?” He stroked your thigh and massaged the fabric of your shorts. You pulled yourself up and propped yourself up on your elbows and coyly smiled, “Care to join me?” You winked, “Take a walk on the wild side. It’s a real treat. After that...who knows?” You teased him. 

He considered it and then loosened the buttons, and took off his jacket before laying it down and rolling up his sleeves. He laid down and you offered him to slide up to you. He obliged stiffly but soonly gave in. You spotted his chest hair and stared at it for a moment. You then acted, you traced it, mildly twirling your finger in its mass, he shuddered and then left you to continue. You laid down your head on his chest and felt his hearts pounding between two different beats. 

He murmured, “Keep the screwdriver. A little gift. From me to you…” You felt his hearts hitch a bit.

Sighing, you told him, “Relax." You let out a sleepy little moan. You embraced the warmth of his body and soothing echoing in his chest like a whitenoise machine. "You're doing excellent.." The Master eased up and you felt yourself ease up and drift off. You dreamt of falling through water and waves and the scent of fires and musk. You could feel a pair of eyes watching you, but they felt nonjudgmental, just guiding you deeper down. Deeper under the spell of sleep and total darkness. 

[psychosubtransdistricatedcrybrow]

Hey guys, I know I mostly reblog things and don’t get very personal, but this means a lot to me. I’ve been friends with Evan for over 4 years and he’s a great local author, and you should really check him out. If you’re a fan of sci-fi fantasy and horror, he’s definitely the guy for you. He is a novelist targeted towards young adult/adult readers, although younger readers would also enjoy his work.

Anachronist Girls is the love child of fantasy, time travel, love, and family. The blurb reads as such:

Chronically adrift Rose isn’t ready to meet Emile Belmont. Yet he offers everything she’s dreamed of: wealth, stability, whirlwind romance. Rose believes their life together is perfect until the day Emile vanishes, leaving a trail of bizarre clues behind. Easter exists in two worlds. Shattered by a childhood of wonder and violence, she slips between the real world and a place of countless doors. Passages only she can open, leading into phantom palaces and tiger-stalked jungles. Anita is haunted by an age beyond our own. Daughter of criminal and con-man Victor Larkey, she’s learned to survive on her own, all the while dreaming of a city a thousand years away. A vast, mechanical city she has seen before and has vowed to find again. Together, they will cross our world and others to uncover a plot centuries in the making. A plan which only they can stop.

It’s a fantastic book and one of a kind, and I absolutely was not expecting the ending. The amazon link is here.

Halcyon Park describes giant robots, cyborgs, bank robbery, and California amusement parks. The synopsis is this:

No Machine shall think. No Machine shall kill. No Man shall become as Machine. Archie Robledo is a hunted man. A veteran of the brutal anti-cybernetics wars, he awakens from a coma as the very thing he has fought against: a prototype super-soldier and walking nuclear weapon. His existence is a capital offense, punishable by dismantlement. Survival means living off the grid, using assumed identities and taking aid from underworld contacts. Offered work as an engineer at a beachfront park, he sees an opportunity to afford an expensive exit visa into friendlier nations. Yet a series of ill-fated gambles by the park’s management threaten to uncover a hotbed of criminal activity, Archie’s presence included. Pursued by the relentless detectives of the Tech-Crimes division, his escape and freedom on the line, Archie turns his unique abilities to a new trade: bank robbery.

The amazon link is here.

Tigerfish, boy let me tell you. This is a tale of cheating death, beachy palms, and an angry little girl who has an affinity for killing in the woods (where else would you kill?) Here’s the blurb:

Ex-cop Jason “Jay” Krakavaela should be a dead man. Following a tragic and deadly accident, he is snatched back from death by the miracle-worker surgeons of the Secordia Corporation. As a test-subject for their groundbreaking medical technologies, he is granted a second life. Yet his rebirth comes at a cost: his memories of his former life, his family, and even himself. Sent to recuperate among the palm-tree vistas and tourist beaches of the South Seas, Jay reinvents himself, finding work on a leaky houseboat-diner and befriending his quirky new boss. However, his reimagined life is soon upended in an encounter with another of Secordia’s experimental patients: an amnesiac girl possessing otherworldly, terrifying abilities. Thrust into a web of bizarre science and dark mythologies, Jay must uncover not only the sinister forces behind Secordia, but the truth of what he himself is quickly becoming. For deep within him, something is waking up. Something that dreams of bringing fire to a new world.

The amazon link is here.

Paraiso Street is Clark’s most recent book, and I must say I’m very excited to read it. It won’t be on the shelves until 9/9/19, but preorder for kindle is currently available. It’s a story of demons, soul trafficking, and paradise. From what I’ve seen so far, it’s well worth the read. Here’s the blurb:

Ex-priest and physicist Danny Capistrano sells salvation, smuggling the newly-deceased into the underworld. Trafficking souls isn’t a breeze, but Danny’s the best there is. Who cares if he’s in debt to the gills, his girlfriend just split, and his estranged daughter thinks he’s a complete asshole? But when a valuable soul slips through his fingers, Danny finds himself in the cross-hairs of his cartel bosses. To clear his name, Danny returns to San Adriano, gateway city to the land of the dead. Unearthing a plot more sinister than stray spirits, he teams up with scientific prodigy Cali— who also happens to be that same estranged daughter. Now saving his reputation (and avoiding the business end of a meat grinder) might just mean redeeming himself with his daughter, too. Never mind that he’ll need to outwit terrifying immigration agents, hustle an undead six-foot rodent, and crack open the beautifully grotesque underworld itself. With survival and absolution on the line, Danny has to get this one thing right. And there’s a first time for everything.

The amazon link is here.

If you’ve read this far you’re a real trooper and I appreciate it, and I would especially appreciate it if you could show this guy some love, he deserves it and puts out some dang good work. Here is his Twitter as well and here is his Instagram, in case any of you all would like to keep up on his work/life and get more info on his books. If anything, he’s got jokes, and we could all use a laugh.

[geekpellets]

Red Collar Crimes

Cronos Cronos is about an antique dealer who stumbles upon what may be the key to immortality. Unfortunately, he isn’t the only one who knows that such an item is in his possession. I’ve seen this movie labelled as a drama, as a thriller, and as a horror movie. It’s also very funny. It touches on two many genres to perfectly fit into any of the above. I, personally, kind of think of it as an adventurous supernatural caper. There are elements of body horror in the film, but the film itself isn’t meant to be scary. At the end of the day, it’s heart is just too big for that. I do believe that all of these potential genres that the film touches on are done well. It’s a jack of all trades kind of movie, and it works. It’s suspenseful when it’s supposed to be, funny when it’s supposed to be, mysterious when it’s supposed to be, and heartwarming when it’s supposed to be. The acting is great all around. The film is always at its most gripping when Federico Luppi and Claudio Brook are along in a room together acting against one another. The protagonist’s granddaughter, aurora, was deftly portrayed by Tamara Shanath. Ron Perlman is a scene stealer as the disgruntled but charming and charismatic goon, Angel. The film is a character study of its protagonist, so few of the other characters are allowed as much depth, but I enjoyed them all. The blood effects are pretty good in the movie. The make-up effects are good too. The body horror can be quite gruesome at times, but not in that big exaggerated Cronenberg way. One will notice that some of the practical effects are a little obvious. There are films in the late 80′s the naturally blow this film apart with its practical effects, but there are also way worse examples of practical effects both then and now. The movie is filmed and edited well all around. There are early examples here of the kind of eye for imagery and detail that Del Toro is now known for. The film is well paced, ending at a crisp hour and twenty-seven minutes (credits not included). It really felt like the movie did a lot with its short time. I usually don’t mention music when I’m reviewing something, but that’s only because most of the time the music drifts into the background of my mind and becomes forgettable. I really enjoyed the varied musical selections in this film and how well they set the tone in their scenes. I watched the credits just to listen to the music again. This movie tackles so many moods, so many different atmospheres, and it does it all so well, so succinctly, without wasting any time. And it’s clever in its interpretation of vampires, as one might expect from Del Toro. When I read the Strain my first thoughts heralded back to Blade II, but I see The Strain is inspired by Cronos just as much if not more. This one is a must watch must own flick for me. Innocent Blood Innocent Blood is about a vampire who bites a handsy Italian Mob boss but isn’t allowed the opportunity to finish the job, so he turns into a vampire himself. Now, she must team up with with a cop obsessed with putting the boss down. This movie definitely leans more towards supernatural thriller/romance that horror. Let‘s talk about the bad first, shall we. Decent performances for most of the actors. The performances might be better than I’m giving them credit for but they’ve really got nothing to work with here. There isn’t a single character in this movie with any real depth. The action scenes leave a lot to be desired. I probably wouldn’t mind it so much if the music didn’t try to make it seem like things were more exciting than it actually is. The climax is disappointing if one is expecting them to step their action up. There’s a scene where they do the patented Evil Dead first person camera crawl...but why tho? I just don’t think it worked at all. The romance leaves a lot to be desired. There’s no reason this film really had to be an hour and fifty minutes long given how undeveloped everyone is. Let’s talk about the good now. A lot of the character dynamics are entertaining. When the movie wants to be funny it often succeeds. Robert Loggia as freshly bitten mob boss Sallie the Shark IS EVERYTHING. Listen. It is EVERYTHING. Let me be honest. This movie is ham and cheese. It’s a hammy movie. Robert Loggia harnessed the ham, he drew power from it, and single-handedly saved this entire movie with his performance. If this character was grounded in any way, this would be an ENTIRELY different movie. Human, this man owns the screen. Vampire, this man owns the screen. He’s Sallie the Shark cause he’s chewing the scenery, and it’s a beautiful thing. The cinematography in this movie (Evil Dead scene aside) is also very good. They really know how a set the mood, the visuals and music choices feel very intentional and purposeful. The effects in this movie are damn good. There are CG effects today that aren’t as good or don’t have the subtlety as the ones used in this film. The practical effects, while kind of obvious, are a notch above the average for 1993. The make-up work is great. The general blood and gore is excellent. There is nudity as our mysterious vampire protagonist is naked quite often and we see everything. There’s also a strip club where breasts are abound. The cop, played by Anthony LaPaglia, also shows his bare ass...for about a second and a half. The movie has its problems, but for as lengthy as it is, I was never bored. I was entertained from start to finish. You just have to embrace the ham. Let Sallie the Shark brightened up your life in this beautifully depicted city full of naked broads and bloodstained boys. If you can’t do that though, this movie is definitely not for you. Otherwise, it’s a good watch.

[bettercallsabs]

Falling For Crime 7

A/N: Surprise! I hope you enjoy. Tag list is open, so never miss a post!

Warnings: ummm, it’s a mob fic? Some fluff, some angst. 

Series Masterlist 

In the past few weeks, you found yourself spending more and more time with Steve. The two of you usually had breakfast together daily. you’d cook, as he sat in the kitchen keeping you company. Over breakfast you began to learn a lot about Steve. His favorite foods, music, books. It became more prominent over time, just how smart Steve actually was. You has always assumed he was more of a muscle and power, kind of guy, but your were quite wrong. Steve had such a flourishing business, not only because he was ruthless, determined, but because he was organized and logistical. 

The more you got to know Steve, the more you genuinely liked him as a person. You hadn’t seen Bucky for weeks, and it worried you. You wanted terrible to ask Steve about him, but  you were still working up the courage to ask...not knowing was getting the best of you.

“A Wednesday off? Are you sure?” You set the plates loaded with food onto the small kitchen table. 

“Why not doll? We deserve a break don’t we?” 

Steve looked down at his plate, his eyes widening with hunger. “I’m so glad packaged  bacon exists now.” Steve muttered as he took a piece of bacon from the plate, staring at it in admiration, before shoving the entire piece into is mouth. “With you’re cooking, I’m going to gain 40 pounds.”  You chuckled, taking your seat across from Steve, cutting into your codfish cake. 

“You workout too much for that. Now, Stop working out... and you surely will.” Thoughts of a large bellied Steve flooded your mind, a wide smile spreading across your mouth as you giggled to yourself. 

“Well, I better keep up the workouts then.” Steve said in between bites. “So, what should we do today doll?

“Not to sound cliche,” you paused, taking another bite of your codfish cake. “but a walk in Central Park seems like a dream. Now. that the snow has melted and the flowers are in full  bloom, I’d really love to see it. And Bucky had mentioned this delicious ice cream cart that pops up around this time of year. Do you know of it?”

“Can’t say that I do, doll.”

 “Maybe we could ask Bucky? I haven’t seen him in a while and-“  Steve stood abruptly from  his chair, the silverware clashing against the ceramic plate.

“Not today doll, he’s busy.” His tone was evasive, giving no further information on the subject. An awkward silence hung in the air, as you both waited to see he would speak first. 

“Best get ready. I have a few things to sort before we leave. Thanks for breakfast.” Steve’s demeanor was cold, as he left the kitchen in a huff. 

In that moment, it became exceedingly clear that Steve knew exactly what had transpired between you and Bucky. 

— 

Walking the path through Central Park, you felt transcended into another plane. The foliage was so green and lush, flowering with beautiful shades of pinks, violets, and reds. 

“It’s so beautiful here Steve. A little blip of paradise in the center of the city.” You danced and swayed, enjoying the light breeze as it caressed your bare legs. 

Steve watched you with adoring eyes, completely mesmerized by your free spirited nature. “It is beautiful, just like you.” You felt your face flooding with heat. Even after all of this time, his compliments made you flustered. 

Steve reached out for your hand, intertwining your fingers in his. 

“I want to show you something.” A mysterious tone playing in Steve’s voice. 

You walked for what felt like hours, the anticipation of surprise causing you patience to be nonexistent.

Approaching on the grounds of small castle, your mind was baffled. Your jaw dropped, A castle in the middle of Central Park? The stone structure was surrounded by lush grew foliage and an assortment of bright colored flowers. It was truly a sight to behold. 

Releasing your hand from Steve’s grasp, you walked forward, into the miniature courtyard.

“This.. this is amazing. This architecture- wow.” 

“Care to take a look inside?” 

“Can we really?”

Taking your hand back in his, Steve smiled as he coaxed you into the Castle. You felt like you were living a fairytale. How had you never known this was here? After touring the castle, you thought it couldn’t get any better. Today had already been a dream come true, and so much more. 

“Close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it, doll.”

Closing your eyes, you squeezed them tightly shut. Your heart raced in anticipation, as you racked your brain for what was in store. What the hell was Steve up to?

“Open your eyes.” Slowly opening your eyes, your jaw dropped. A plaid blanket, topped with a picnic basket, a bucket of ice chilling a bottle of champagne amongst its cubes, surrounded my a field of yellow and pink tulips. 

“Steve...” you could barely speak his name as you choked back tears.

“Do you like it?” Steve’s voice was different... he sounded, vulnerable? 

“Steve, this is absolutely beautiful.” He smiled at you. For the first time ever, his smile was pure, as it spread to his sparkling blue eyes. 

“I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? No, I love it! Seriously, this is like nothing I’ve seen before.” 

Sitting on the blanket, you enjoyed a unique cheese and fruit platter, as you and Steve talked and laughed amongst the tulips.  This was really one of the most amazing days of your life. 

“People actually like this cheese?” You crinkled your node at the look and smell of the blue cheese. “It’s smells horrendous.”

“My father loved the stuffed. Me? Not so much.” Steve laughed as he chucked the cheese out into the field. 

“Today’s been lovely Steve. An absolute dream.”

“I’ve really enjoyed myself today, with you.” Looking down at his watch, Steve looked back at you with a giddy grin. “I just have one last favor to ask.”

“For you, Anything.”

“Stand right here.” Steve helped you to your feet, as a placed a soft kiss on top of your hand. “And close your eyes.” This time you didn’t question him. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath in and out. 

“Okay, open them.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. Your hands shot to your mouth, gasping, as you looked down at Steve, who was knelt on one knee, a dark maroon velvet box, resting in his hand. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t form a single word, your entire self was aghast. You were overwhelmed with an assortment of emotions. A part of your was horrified yet thrilled. 

“Doll, these last few months have been, well, anything but ordinary. Since you first caught my eye, standing in front of that hotel, I been so enamored  with you. You have filled life to me again. Brought me happiness I never thought I’d feel. You’re a my dream come true. Miss Y/F/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” 

Tears stung your eyes, as he flipped the box open to reveal the most extravagant ring you had ever seen. The shield style band was adorned with a large, old European cut diamonds, that shimmered in the fading sunlight. 

You didn’t know what to say, Steve made you happy, he went out of his way to keep you in New York, shown you a life you could have only ever dreamed of... a flicker of Bucky flooded your mind. Bucky... no. Bucky is just a friend, you told yourself. He could never be more, and you knew that. 

“Yes!” You managed to squeak out.

Steve swooped you into his arms, twirling you around, until you both collapsed to the ground from dizziness. 

Steve gazed at you lovingly, holding your face in his palms, his thumb lightly brushing against  your warm cheeks. 

“I love you y/n.” The words were like honey as the spilled off his tongue, making your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, his lips enveloped yours in a sweet kiss. 

“I love you too Steve.” The strangest part of saying those words, was you meant it. 

“Ahem, boss, sorry to interrupt the moment, but you summoned for me?” You looked up to see to see a familiar face  standing a few feet from where you laid, wrapped in Steve’s embrace. Bucky.

“Bucky.” You felt all of the color leave your face as you looked up to him. His usually happy blue eyes were sullen, making your heart sink in your chest. Moments ago you felt beyond elated, but now... all you felt was guilt. 

“Ah Bucky you made it. I wanted today to be absolutely perfect, so I brought Bucky back to find that ice cream you wanted to try. Did you find it Bucky?” 

“Yes boss. He’s here now, just over the bridge.”

“Perfect! shall we?”

Hopping to his feet, in an overly chipper mood, Steve pulled you to your feet, planting a quick kiss on your lips. You felt strange kissing Steve in front of Bucky, making your stomach churn. 

“Congratulations I’m your engagement. I hope you to will be happy together.” Bucky didn’t meet either of your gazes, as you congratulated the two of you. Something in his voice sounded... bitter and angry. 

“Oh, you saw all that?” Steve acted surprised, but something about his words didn’t seem right... “Thanks Buck. I really appreciate it. Ready to get some ice cream, and start our venture homeward?” 

You couldn’t contain your excitement. You were a sucker for ice cream, and if it was as good as Bucky had been boasting about, you couldn’t wait to taste it.

“Most definitely!”

——

Sitting onto your bed, grabbing the candle stick phone from the end table, you quickly phoned for your sister. 

“Hello?”

“Walt, I need to talk to Louise immediately! It’s an emergency.”

“She’s in the bath now. I can have her phone you back as soon as she’s out.”

“Please do. And don’t forget to relay the urgency of it! If I have to wait much longer, I might burst.”

“You could tell me if you would like.” 

“Oh Walt, you are too kind. But if I told you before LouLou, she’d sure kill us both. Now, tell her to hurry her bath. Thank you Walt.”

Hanging up the phone, you fell back onto your bed. You truly did feel as if you were mere seconds from bursting. 

Your tried to busy your mind for the time being by reorganizing your closet. You began sorting through your dresses, organizing them according, to length color and fabric. After you completed that, you tasked yourself with sorting your footwear. 

When the phone rang, you tossed the pair of heels on your hands, and bolted for the phone. 

“Hello? LouLou? Is that you?”

“Y/n, what’s so important that I cut my bath short?”

“LouLou! Steve proposed! We were in the gardens of the castle in Central Park- thanks for telling me about that castle by the way, not- but he proposed! And the ring-“

“Slow down! Christ! Let me process a moment! Now, he what? He proposed? Are you serious? Y/N, I swear if you’re making fun right now-“

“I’m not, I swear! I’m being honest.”

“Well, what did you say?”

“What?”

“Oh my goodness Y/N! Don’t be daft! Did you say yes?”

“Yes. Yes I said yes.” The line went silent for a moment, causing your heart to race even more. 

“LouLou?”

“Sorry, I was screaming. I’m excited for you! We are meeting for breakfast tomorrow. 9am sharp. I want all the details!" You shrieked with joy, pleased to hear your sister have a pleasant reaction to the news. 

“Sounds great. I love you LouLou!

“I love you to sissy! Congratulations. And I’ll see in the morning. Try and get some sleep, will you?” 

“I will try my best.” 

“Talk soon.”

Hanging up the phone, you felt a giant weight lifted off your shoulders, until you remembered... your parents... 

Shit. 

—-

“Let me see it one more time.” 

Holding out your hand, Louise took it in hers as she gawked over the rock on your finger.

“It’s so beautiful. I’m envious. That must have costs thousands of dollars! More than my house! You’re so lucky y/n.” 

Pulling your hand back, you hunched in your chair. “I’m just worried about mom and Dad. They seem to like Steve enough... I don’t know.”

“Im confident they’ll support it. Steve has the means to keep you safe, and give you the best life... I think. I mean you haven’t been caught up in any of the...” bringing her time to a whisper, your sister leaned in closer to you before finishing her sentence. “Mob business? You aren’t a criminal now, right?”

“Absolutely not!” You may have been engaged to a criminal, but you differently weren’t one... were you? 

——

Knock, knock. 

“Hey Steve, can I come in?” You stood in the doorway of his study, as Steve sat behind his desk, papers sprawled before him. Looking up from his work, he greeted you with a smile. 

“Of course doll. come, take a seat. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes. I could definitely use one to settle the nerves.” Steve poured two glasses of whiskey, neat, as you took a seat. 

“What’s got you so worked up doll?”

“My parents... I’m nervous of how they’ll react... to this.” You held up your hand, gesturing to the ring.

“Don’t fret doll, I already talked to them.” Steve said nonchalantly, as he handed you your drink.

“You what?”

“I asked for your father’s permission before I asked you, doll. So you needn’t worry your pretty little head. They were more than happy when we spoke. Although, I’m sure your mom is dying to hear about the proposal.” 

“Oh god, you’re right. I’m going to go call her. I’m taking my drink!” You took a long sip from your drink before taking a stand and heading for the door. “Thank you Steve.”

“You’re welcome doll.”

——

3 weeks of being engaged to Steve may have been the craziest time of your life. Telling your family was by far, the easiest of all. Everyone was seemed so happy for you. Except Bucky. On the night of yours and Steve’s engagement party, you caught Bucky’s side glances towards Steve. They way he looked at him scared you, made you fear for Steve’s life. 

As Steve mingled amongst friends and colleagues, you grabbed Bucky by the arm, pulling him aside, out of sight. “What the hell is your problem, Bucky?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n.”

“Like hell you don’t. The way you’ve acting, rude to me, and I’ve seen the way you look at Steve.” 

“I don’t have time for this y/n, please get out of my way.” Bucky moved to get around you, but you stepped in front of him once again. “Bucky please, just talk to me.” You gently placed your hand on his forearm, begging him to talk with you. 

“I love you. And Steve, he.. he ruined everything..” You didn’t know what to say, the proper way to respond. You mind was raising trying to put the pieces together of what was just said. Bucky... how could... he loved you? He was just joking, he couldn’t possibly love you... He cup your face in his hand, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb. God, you missed his touch. 

“Y/N. I love you so much, you are the most beautiful thing in the world to me . You can’t marry him. I-“

“Bucky Stop.” The tears stung your eyes as they began to trickle from your eyes, as you removed his hand from your cheek, taking a few steps back from him. This man, standing before you... you loved him too. But you also loved Steve. Your heart began to ache, your emotions playing in all different directions. 

“Doll?. Turning hot on your heels, Steve now stood before you. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” His attention now diverting to Bucky. “You just don’t like to listen do you? When did you become so uncompliant?” Steve was uncannily calm, and it terrified you. Now, you feared for Bucky’s life. 

“Steve, I asked to talk with him, it wasn’t his fault. He tried to walk away, but I wouldn’t let him. I just wanted to know why he’s been away so much. I know it’s because you guys are still seeking vengeance on my assailants.  I can’t thank you enough for that. You work so hard to protect me, and take care of me. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” Linking your arm in his, with your free arm, you wiped the tears from your face. “Let’s get back to the party. Everyone is here to see us after all.” You could feel Steve’s body beginning to ease, against yours, as you made your way back into the ballroom area. You stole a quick glance at Bucky as you and Steve walked away, a single tear falling slowly from his eye. 

I’m so sorry. 

FOREVER TAGS: : @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @itsanerdlife @sea040561 @dsakita 

FFC TAGS: @m4shtyx @villainsaremorerelatable @flashfanfics @palebun-16 @thiskatistoospooky @bloodiedskirtts @queen-of-elves @rainbowkisses31 

[reconditarmonia]

Dear Chocolate Box Author

Hello, lovely writer!

I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3 (and have been since LJ days, but my LJ is locked down and I only have a DW to see locked things). I have anon messaging off, but mods should be able to contact me if you have any questions.

Coriolanus | Discworld | Harlots | Original Work | The Revenger's Tragedy | Simoun | Sleep No More | Spinning Silver

General likes:

– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.

– Loyalty kink, whether commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms, and the trust associated with it. Sometimes-but-not-always relatedly, idealism. I guess the two combined might be, in general, the idea of nobility of character and what that means. Also, gestures of loyalty.

– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.

– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff (possibly while crossdressing).

– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.

– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.

– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.

– Eucatastrophe.

General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex; embarrassment; focus on pregnancy; Christmas/Christian themes.

—

Fandom: Coriolanus

Ship(s): Coriolanus/Aufidius

Fightsex ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Or fighting with high UST? (I should mention that Hiddleston!Coriolanus’s bemused reaction to Aufidius’s speech and kiss is, shall we say, not my headcanon; I like how equally obsessed with each other the two of them are.) The “he is a lion that I am proud to hunt” line seems to get quoted a lot, but I’m more interested in the part of the line that immediately precedes it - “Were half to half the world by th' ears and he upon my party, I'd revolt to make only my wars with him" - and this coexists with how they see each other as being so similar.

Fandom-Specific DNWs/Exception: PWP should be all right on this one. Cultural hangups around penetration in the context of fighting for dominance are fine, but DNW shame/reluctance when getting down to whatever they decide to do, please, and also DNW dialogue descriptions of what’s occurring in the sex.

—

Fandom: Discworld

Ship(s): Polly “Ozzer” Perks & Jackrum, Polly “Ozzer” Perks & Sam Vimes, Tonker Halter/Lofty Tewt/Maladict, Tonker Halter/Lofty Tewt/Polly “Ozzer” Perks

/ ships: Destroy the Polly/Mal and Tonker/Lofty hegemony! /sarcasm These just seemed like ships that would be interesting to see - I guess I imagine them as being short-term given Tonker and Lofty’s one true love, but I’d be interested in seeing why Tonker and Lofty might let someone else in, why Mal or Polly might accept, and how that’d play out. Probably post-canon? How does it come about, if Tonker and Lofty have retired (to be criminals/freedom-fighters, or did they just rob the one bank to get enough to retire on and burn down the one place as personal revenge?) while Mal and Polly are still in the army? (Again, sarcastic about the Polly/Mal, I ship it and would be up for Polly/Mal pining in the context of one of these trios if that’s what you’re into.)

& ships: Just more of Polly and her mentor/s! I love that Monstrous Regiment is about a woman who joins the army in response to an immediate crisis but comes to learn that she’s a cunning bastard and that being a sergeant is what she’s good at. More of Polly learning from Jackrum (or deciding to do things differently, having things to teach) would be great. (She hasn’t heard nearly all Jackrum’s stories - or, even in retirement, there must be some adventure they could have, or something could come up around Jackrum’s big secret, or the book of blackmail.) So would Polly finding a new mentor in Vimes, learning how things work in Ankh-Morpork (as big city - how does she react to all the cultural differences? - or as a power structure where the rules of getting stuff done might be different than in Borogravia) or across periodic meetings when he’s in Borogravia. What are they cynical about, what do they believe in?

I request Monstrous Regiment a lot, so I have previous prompts for it in my “dear authors” tag.

Fandom-Specific DNW/Exception: gender headcanons, identity musing, or non-canonical pronouns. “He” or “she” for Jackrum are both fine, but I would not want to read the character making a big deal about gender identity or pronouns. Also, er, PWP would probably be fine for the / ships, although I’m still interested more in the character dynamics than in what would be hot.

—

Fandom: Harlots

Ship(s): Charlotte Wells & Margaret Wells, Lydia Quigley & Charlotte Wells, Nancy Birch/Margaret Wells, Nancy Birch & Margaret Wells & William North

Charlotte & Margaret: There are so many levels to their relationship! In some ways it’s the usual “your baby is an adult person now”, but especially in season 2, Charlotte’s also working/fighting for the “side” that Margaret leads, and of course who Charlotte is as an adult person is so dependent on Margaret’s great betrayal of her. It’d be great to read something dealing with how thorny and complex their relationship is, their ambition and moral ambivalence, a conflict they have over something that’s not a keeper/relationship, ways in which their personalities are similar or different. (I would prefer to have Margaret’s selling of Charlotte remain an element of their backstory, rather than being the focus of the fic. If you want to start the story post-canon with Margaret back in place, don’t feel obligated to explain how she avoided transportation - I’m fine with that noodle incident or tacit canon divergence, but I’d prefer that the fic didn’t ignore the events of season 2 in general. Explaining it, or having her indeed transported, are also fine!)

Lydia & Charlotte: The other mother-daughter pairing! I love everything about the “loyal and beloved henchman secretly plotting revenge” plot in season 2. What if the secret hadn’t been revealed when it was, and Charlotte had become more and more compromised? Or, without that canon divergence, tell me more about what they genuinely like or admire about each other, or what Charlotte learns from Lydia about managing her house or her persona. Or maybe there’s another situation where, even as open enemies, they have to work together and help/rely on each other. (If you don’t feel like explaining how Lydia gets out of Bedlam and want to start the story post-canon with her back in place, I’m fine with that, whether we assume she manipulated her way out or that canon divergence happened and she wasn’t committed.)

Nancy/Margaret or Nancy & Margaret & Will: I was really happy that Nancy and Margaret got to kiss, because I’d been shipping them. What interests me most about the ship (and which is the reason I’m prompting both Nancy/Mags and Nancy&Mags&Will together) is Nancy and Margaret as partners-as-family. Both Nancy and Will are Margaret’s unmarried partners, to some degree or other, and play a parental role with the children that are hers but not theirs - do they have words for that when so many other relationships in their lives are definable and quantifiable? Did Nancy and Margaret ever try to live together or go into business together (after leaving Quigley’s - I’m not really interested in reading about them when they’re very young) or did they decide to live close but separate from the start? What’s a day in the life like for Margaret, Will, and Nancy?

I’ve requested this fandom before, in my “dear author letters” tag.

Fandom-Specific Exception to DNW: I recognize that rape and dubcon are endemic to the canon and specifically to a subplot I like, and I don’t expect you to avoid all reference to them, but would prefer not to have them described in detail, or to dwell on specific instances.

—

Fandom: Original Work

Ship(s): Crime Boss/Right Hand Man or Woman/Undercover Police Officer, Female Aristocrat/Her Right-Hand Woman, Female Berserker/Female Officer She's Absolutely Loyal To, Female Commissioned Officer/Female Non-Commissioned Officer, Female Historical or Fantasy World Assassin-Spy/Her Female Patron, Female Re-Enactor Playing Male Soldier/Female Re-Enactor Playing Woman, Queen in a Court Full of Intrigue/Loyal and Vicious Female Writer, Recently Promoted Female Officer/Her Female Comrade-Now-Subordinate

So, clearly I love loyalty kink, stuff about how people relate to one another across a difference of rank or responsibility, questions of doing potentially fucked-up things for someone else because you’re loyal to them or are replacing your ethical judgment with theirs, or alternately of stopping someone from using the skills at their disposal in order to protect them or for a more farsighted goal. What kinds of situations could these characters be put in to risk themselves (whether that’s physically, or their ethics, reputation, secrets, position, goals...) for each other, or to ask someone they love to risk themselves? Maybe they’re the best at what they do, but what is it and how do they do it? How far do they need to go to prove their loyalty, if that’s what they need to do for personal reasons or for their own ambitions or wider goals?

Female Re-Enactor Playing Male Soldier/Female Re-Enactor Playing Woman does seem to be the odd one out, even if it also has to do with women soldiers, but I’d be so curious to know how they came to the decisions about who they would play, if they fall in love first or if their characters fall in love first and how all that plays out, all the tropey stuff that you might write for a historical canon but played as re-enactment, costume stuff...

For the military ones, these can be made-up societies, AU history where integrated or all-female armies were the norm, both women disguised as men in male armies, contexts where male soldiers are the norm but our female characters are there too for reasons...I think I'd prefer a context a little removed from the modern, but there's a lot of room for flexibility there. Same for the Aristocrat/Right-Hand Woman and Queen/Writer - historical or fantasy world, as with the assassin/patron, would be ideal. The re-enactors can be modern, or also in a made-up or future world. Gender wasn’t specified in the Crime Boss ship - I’d especially love to read that as f/f/f if you can swing it, but if that doesn’t work out, I would prefer f!boss/right-hand man/f!cop or f!boss/right-hand woman/m!cop over options with m!boss or two men.

I’ve requested this sort of thing before, so there’s more in my “dear author letters” tag.

Fandom-Specific DNW: If you go with a fantasy world for this, I would prefer human characters or, I guess, elves; DNW orcs, goblins, demons, dragons, etc.

—

Fandom: The Revenger’s Tragedy

Ship(s): Lussurioso/Vindice, Vindice & Hippolito, Vindice & Hippolito & Castiza

It is my firm belief that had Lussurioso’s target not happened to be Castiza, Vindice would have loved being Lussurioso’s henchman. They hit it off right away - both times! I’d love to see something that explores that (not that it has to be AU, I mean, just the idea that Vindice actually likes the guy and really enjoys/is well suited for this job). And Lussurioso’s got the measure of him, too, to some degree (“Yet [swear to be true in all] for my humour’s sake...’cause I love swearing.”) Uh, not that this means you can’t write it as incredibly fucked up, though; I mean, a big part of Vindice’s character for me is that he might have no place in an honest world. Does Vindice have any scruples that aren’t related to his own family? Sex as manipulation one way, both ways? How much murder?

Or give me some family dynamics! I’m weirdly curious about birth order, which is not specified in canon - I firmly headcanon Vindice as not the oldest and Hippolito as older than him, but would be interested in your perspective on the rest of the configuration. How alike or different are they (beyond the canon path of Hippolito getting more into Vindice’s whole “elaborate murder” shtick)? What else might happen to our battlin’ brothers that’s off-screen in canon, where they’re more, or less, in sync/on the same wavelength? If Castiza learns about what the brothers have been up to during or after canon, how might that play out?

Fandom-Specific DNW: No movie canon. The razor scars? Just in the movie. As well, please don’t have Castiza (or Antonio, if it comes up) be truly corrupted.

—

Fandom: Simoun

Ship(s): Aaeru & Neviril & Paraietta & Rodoreamon & Floef & Vyuraf, Aaeru/Neviril, Mamiina/Rodoreamon, Paraietta & Neviril, Paraietta/Rodoreamon

I’m so interested in the way that the war affects the relationship dynamics of this show - how Mamiina and Rodoreamon have this troubled backstory that they need to set aside and end up loving/respecting one another, how both Paraietta and Aaeru’s relationships with Neviril are personal relationships but also about them being soldiers and her being commander. And the way their experiences change them as people, and what that could mean for their relationships with one another.  One thing I love about the canon is how, in the mold of all my favorite epic yuri/shoujo animes, Everything Is Beautiful And Then Shit Gets Real, and that’s not just an out-of-universe fact of the show but something that the characters themselves, who are “supposed” to be priestesses and not an air force, have to deal with.

I don’t have a lot of ship-specific prompts, but I’m always interested in loyalty; sexual first times probably tie into the canon’s themes in a lot of ways; time loops or timespace play? I did start wondering (when prompting this for Yuletide) what might happen post-canon if Neviril and Aeru make it back to the main world when war is brewing again, but Neviril has no one from the old cohort to lead because they can’t fly anymore - so what do they do? (I think the way the show is allows for lost characters like them or Mamiina to be brought back, although I think I’d prefer it to be acknowledged in-story as due to magic or time weirdness rather than a tacit canon divergence/retcon.)

I request this allllll the time, so I have a lot of rambling in my “dear author letters” tag.

Fandom-Specific DNW/Exception: I don't need you to retcon the attempted assault(s), but please don't dwell on them. No Dominuura/Limone if that comes up, please.

—

Fandom: Sleep No More

Ship(s): Bald Witch & Sexy Witch & Boy Witch, Bald Witch & Macduff, Sexy Witch & Fulton, Witch/Witch/Witch

I saw Sleep No More for the first(?) time in November, and it was really neat to explore and see all of the intertwining stories. I was especially interested in the Witches and the parts of their stories that I saw (I spent a lot of time with Bald Witch and with Fulton). One of my favorite things was the idea of this world of darkness and magic that’s underlying or intertwined with the social world, rather than in a separate space - I loved seeing the Witches at the ball and, holy shit, Bald Witch pulling off her wig after the ball in her solo ritual thing! This was the place in the loop where I first ran into her/noticed her, so I hadn’t realized it was a wig until that moment, and I was hooked. So, how do the Witches interact with the normal world, or deliberately carve out other spaces (like the apothecary shop)? What’s under the physical foundations of the castle and hotel and shops/what was there before, that they (or people like Fulton) might know about but that the world at large doesn’t know or has forgotten?

But also - who are the witches and how did they find each other? Are they still human, or are they immortal in some way? Do they have day-to-day lives or are they witching all the time?

BTW, I’d be happy to get just Bald Witch/Sexy Witch or Bald Witch & Sexy Witch if that’s what you’re more interested in, rather than all three.

—

Fandom: Spinning Silver

Ship(s): Miryem Mandelstam/Irina, Miryem Mandelstam/Original Female Staryk Character, Miryem Mandelstam/Wanda

I really liked the book’s ideas of power - Miryem’s real-world power of accounting and hardheadedness becoming magic in the Staryk world, being a queen in one world while belonging to a disenfranchised minority in another. Power, rules, exchange - these play into a number of my prompts for these ships.

Miryem/Irina: Two queens with very different kinds of power, and different ideas of where their commitment lies - Miryem’s to “her people” whether that’s her family/other Jews/the Staryk who have bound themselves to her, Irina’s to “Lithvas” - and what’s consistent with their own ethics to fulfill those commitments. Widow them both and have the ultimate human world-Staryk world power marriage? A more serious rivalshippy thing where you make Miryem and Irina deal with the fact that they’re respectively a Jewish queen of a super-powerful magic country and the queen of a largely anti-Semitic country who’s not totally free from those beliefs herself? (I should mention that I am explicitly okay with the story touching on anti-Semitism or having anti-Semitism as a central issue.) What about different court traditions, when they visit each other - or, what happens when Miryem is back in the human world, knowing she’s a queen somewhere else? Can Miryem use the mirror from Irina to do an end run around the whole Persephone setup and travel back and forth whenever she wants?

Miryem/Wanda: I liked the early development of their relationship and wished we’d had more of that later in the story. How would Wanda’s gratitude to Miryem and the Mandelstams play in a land that views gratitude so differently from the human world? Might Wanda’s real-world “magic”, like the reading and writing Miryem gave her, manifest differently in the Staryk world too? Do you want to go full Tam Lin and have Wanda rescue Miryem from the Staryk world? Would Wanda ever consider converting to Judaism? What if she’s less settling into comfortable forest retirement and more becoming a magical gatekeeper of Miryem’s land in her own way?

Miryem/Original Female Staryk Character - Miryem must have more adventures in the Staryk world post-canon, not just the post-war rebuilding. Or maybe in an AU, there’s a different way that she comes into their land, or a Staryk character who comes into the human world. Who might she meet?

I also requested this for Yuletide, so I have more prompts in my “dear author letters” tag. And you can also feel free to ignore these pairings and write another fairytale about the Staryk and the Jews (possibly with Original Female Staryk/Original Female Human, Original Female Staryk/Original Female Staryk, or not).

Fandom-Specific DNW: I’m not interested in Miryem/Staryk or Irina/Mirnatius (as m/f, anyway), so please don’t get into either infidelity angst or poly negotiation. AUs where they never married them, killing both the husbands offscreen, or the assumption of an open relationship are all fine.

[apparitionism]

Helicobacter 4

Here’s what happens in this part: Myka and Helena talk to each other, and then they talk to each other again. At base, that’s it. They also look at nature, sort of, and ponder the past and causality. A couple of plot points tiptoe in... anyway the whole thing will most likely continue to strain credulity and be a talky mess! (I am staying in my lane.) A Bering and a Wells walk into a conference room: that’s how the joke starts, right? And then fate takes over. See part 1, part 2, and part 3 for details.

Helicobacter 4

Helena awoke in what was perhaps the most uncomfortable, yet inevitable, sleeping posture she had ever taken: still sitting in the chair beside Myka’s bed, but with her upper body slumped forward onto that bed. She felt a hand in her hair, petting, smoothing. “Are you awake?” Myka asked.

“Mmph,” Helena said.

“I promise I’m not trying to hurry you. But I think the hospital wants the bed.”

“I want the bed,” Helena mumbled. Movement seemed prohibitively effortful.

Myka’s hand continued its light stroke. “So do I,” she said.

Nice. So nice. A dissolve-into level of nice: exactly where she was, exactly what was happening.

Where she was, what was happening—Helena woke up, sat up. And then the process of Myka’s release from the hospital began. Helena summoned Steve, who, in his lovely way, facilitated everything: even driving Myka to her apartment, where he and Helena both did their best to ensure that she had everything she needed in the near term.

“I’m fine,” Myka assured them. “Really. You’ve done so much for me. Both of you, and I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just be well,” Steve told her. Such simple, sweet words, and Myka said an equally unadorned “I’ll try” in response.

“Please do,” Helena added, a weak contribution, but it was all she could find.

As Helena and Steve were departing, Myka pulled on her arm. “You made it not a nightmare,��� she said, and that too, was simple and sweet. Then she said, “If I’m ever hospitalized again, I want to be engaged to you for it.” She leaned to Helena and kissed her cheek, and receiving such a kiss was the same as delivering it: a surprise of softness and intimacy.

Helena, physically and emotionally flummoxed, said, “So do I.”

Steve asked, later, “Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“Of course not,” Helena said.

The following day, Helena received flowers at the office. A lovely, tasteful arrangement. “Thank you again,” the card said, “for everything.” It was signed, “Yours, Myka.”

She showed the card to Steve, who asked again, “Is there anything you need to tell me?”

This time, Helena answered, “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Steve said. “Awareness generally has to be cultivated.”

“You know I’m very bad at any such practice,” Helena said.

“You choose not to learn,” he countered.

“That’s your job,” she said. “Very nearly literally. If I were sufficiently mindful, why would I need you?”

“To schedule your appointments. By the way, you have a meeting with Myka next week.”

“I have a... what?”

“Yeah, she called me, to make sure you got the flowers, and to set up an appointment. Tuesday afternoon. And given how you just gasped, you might want to work on some mindful breathing skills between now and then.”

“Mind your own breathing,” she advised him, superfluously.

****

As Tuesday loomed, Helena fretted to Steve, “But how should I behave?”

He didn’t bother to shift his gaze from his computer screen. “Don’t knee her.”

“You’re a great help.”

****

By the time Tuesday at last arrived, however, “don’t knee her” had become Helena’s mantra, reminding her of everything that she should not do or say: don’t bring up anything specific about the hospital unless she does, don’t mention her illness unless she does, don’t presume any sort of intimacy between the two of you, don’t ask about the status of the bid... ultimately it came down to a general dictum against saying any words at all to her. Or, of course, touching her. Or being near enough to touch. “Don’t knee her” meant “be very still and quiet.”

On that fateful day, at the fateful time, Steve showed Myka into Helena’s office. He withdrew immediately, leaving Helena mildly surprised that he didn’t wink as he did so. Myka didn’t say anything, so Helena tried, “Hello.”

“Hi,” Myka said. She smiled.

And for a moment, Helena let herself enjoy that smile, accept it, return it... until such time as her not taking her turn to speak began to seem awkward. She hurried to say something, coming up with, “I thought we’d meet here instead of the conference room this time.”

So much for not kneeing her. Now Myka frowned, a subtle little face-twist that was the obverse of the smiles she’d performed in the hospital. “Scene of the crime,” she said.

“No, no. I just didn’t want you to be upset. It might have bad associations.”

“I’ll admit, they aren’t the best. Although it all started fine.” Now she smiled. “The hellos were really nice.”

“We’ll cling to those. How are you feeling now?”

“Much better. Not going to destroy your desk, I promise.” She fell silent again, and Helena was reassured, or something, by the idea that Myka, too, seemed to be searching for words at the right level of familiarity. “I was thinking,” Myka re-began, with clear determination, “I mean, what I thought, when I was thinking, was that I should tell you in person that I’m not overseeing the project anymore. You’ll be working mostly with Abigail from now on.”

“You were removed for becoming ill?” Helena asked, her dudgeon rising.

“No...” The little slack in Myka’s voice: she’d heard Helena’s indignation, which Helena knew was not her place to have or express or—“I was removed because I told my boss that you stayed with me at the hospital. I thought I was just recounting, factually, what happened that day, but she heard it as, this is going to look bad if anybody finds out about it. It’s going to look like you were trying to get in good with me.”

“The ethics of that,” Helena said, even as she thought, The truth of that.

“The new rules say nobody bidding on city projects can have a personal relationship with anybody who works for the city. Anybody who works for the city who can make decisions, that is. Or even influence decisions.”

“The appearance of impropriety... I suppose I have to applaud the EMT who was caring for you in the ambulance for refusing me information because I had no such personal relationship with you. She did as she should. And so did Rick,” Helena said. “It’s all down to those personal relationships in the end, isn’t it? It wasn’t until he mentioned having been engaged to you that I made my, shall we say, ill-considered decision. To say what I said. To claim what I claimed.”

“I’m sorry for that. My failed relationship, making your life difficult.”

“I’m fairly certain your life has been made more difficult by that than mine has... although failed relationships don’t tend to make anyone’s life easier.” Reveal something, she felt again, as in the hospital. She surprised herself by saying, “I was engaged once myself.” She didn’t tend to disclose that. Didn’t tend to think about it, but lately...

“What happened?” Myka asked, then shook her head. “Sorry. Forget I asked.”

“Aren’t you the one who said ‘too personal’ is off the table? She left me. I don’t blame her; I was—am—far too focused on my work. I had thought being married, or rather, promising to one day be married, would fix things. Or at least push problems into the future, so I could concentrate on what seemed more important in the present. It worked for a while.”

“But then she left you.”

“But then she did. As I say, I don’t blame her.”

Myka took her time in responding to that, which in turn gave Helena time to consider that surprisingly brief conversation for which she did not blame Giselle. “This isn’t working,” Giselle had said, to which Helena had agreed, “No. Not at the present moment.” And she would have explained that that was why she had made promises about the future, but Giselle had continued on, not angry but factual, “This isn’t working because you won’t work at this. You’ll work at your work, all the time, because you can see that it’s worth work, but you won’t work at this.”

And Helena had agreed again: “That is entirely true.” And its truth meant that the promised future would never—should never—come.

She counted the hours, for it was hours and not days, until every physical trace of Giselle was gone from her life. And after those hours, all at once, the present, no longer mortgaged to that promised future, was clean, keen.

When at last Myka spoke, she asked, “Do you miss her?”

Helena wavered. Should she tell the truth? “Before last week, I would have said no.” That was true. “Then I spent a day in hospital.” All right, that was true too.

“When most people say something like that, they mean they were the sick one.”

“Well. Egotistically, I like to think I’m not most people.”

“That’s...” Myka paused, as if searching her mental thesaurus. She shook her head. “That’s true.” That made Helena laugh, which in turn made Myka smile as she said, “I’m sorry, though. For all of it, but even more, if it made you miss her.”

Continue being honest. “It isn’t her as herself so much, I think, as there being something else, or someone else, to pay attention to.”

“But you didn’t. Pay that attention, I mean. To her?”

“I didn’t. But I... I remember that I liked knowing someone was there, even as I didn’t do what I should have, with regard to her.” She stopped. “I hadn’t said it out loud before, not that way. It’s awful.”

“Then I guess you should double not blame her for leaving. But aren’t we all awful like that?” Myka made a face, a grimace-and-eyeroll concoction. “Maybe we’re not. It’s probably wrong to generalize from just you and me.”

“You?” Helena asked. Myka didn’t at all seem the type to be as neglectful as Helena had. As thoughtless. As... offhand.

“With my parents, if no one else. I know they’re there, even if I don’t make the effort I should. Even if I push problems into the future.”

“Given your mother’s apparently desperate wish to see you married off to Rick, I can certainly understand your attitude.”

“She just wants me to be happy,” Myka said.

I can understand that too, Helena thought.

Myka chose that moment to notice that upon the upper right edge of Helena’s desk sat a piece of the neighborhood model, the one piece Steve had managed to salvage in his cleanup. One small building and its landscaping: a curving, balsa-clad little structure with a courtyard featuring two wire trees. It was intended to represent a community center.

Don’t knee her. Helena had meant to hide it away.

Myka picked the building up, turned it in her hands. The swoop of its roof-line rhymed with the curl of each of her fingers. “Time,” she said. “How much of it do we get? I mean you do start to understand why people do things. And maybe there’s forgiveness, or maybe it’s just recognition that it isn’t then anymore. Have you seen her since it ended?”

“No. Like you with Rick, she wanted a clean break. So did I. In fact I quit the job I had, and I started this firm—my attitude was something on the order of ‘Oh, you thought that was work? I’ll show you work.’”

“Interesting response,” Myka said, still focused on inspecting the tiny community center.

“Ill-considered.”

Myka readjusted the wire branches of the trees, such that they now seemed to be fighting against—or accepting and bending to—a current of air. “You say that a lot.”

“I do that a lot,” Helena said. That, too, was true.

Now Myka looked up. “You didn’t cheat on her, did you?”

A reasonable question, given that Helena had revealed herself to be so callous; Myka could not be blamed for imagining Helena capable of that, too. “Only with my work,” Helena told her.

“Better than with another woman.”

“I’m not sure that’s true. The result was the same.”

The little frown again, just a twitch, but visible. “Not for her. Trust me on this one.”

“He cheated on you?” Now Helena was regretting not seeking out surgical implements when she had the chance.

“You don’t have to defend my honor...” Myka said, and there again was the slack, the indulgence. “You’re not engaged to me anymore.”

“Who in their right mind,” Helena fumed, knowing it was inappropriate to fume, yet fuming all the same. How dare he.

“In his defense—not that I really want to defend him, but your face sort of makes me feel like I should—I did spend an awful lot of time at work. Still do. Like you... I mean, so did he, so I guess in that sense we were already cheating on each other. With it. In your sense. He just found somebody he wanted to sleep with, there. Meanwhile I just wanted to sleep.” Myka sighed. “It would have turned out the same way, regardless.”

“Philosophical of you,” Helena said.

“Time. Would yours have turned out differently?”

“No. Not then.”

“Would it turn out differently now?”

“I haven’t changed.” Perhaps her truest statement thus far.

“Maybe you aren’t supposed to.” Myka set the model piece back on Helena’s desk, in the spot it had previously occupied. Then she rotated it so that the “trees” faced Helena. She looked up at Helena as she did so. “I read somewhere that it’s healthy to look at nature. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know... the situation. And to say thank you in person. Also I really need to buy you new clothes and pay for the rest of this poor model. And whatever it cost to have your conference room cleaned. That had to be terrible.”

“I have no idea. I was at the hospital with my fiancée.”

“Seriously, send me a bill.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I wish you would. I do owe you.”

“I’d say it was my pleasure, but that would be slightly untrue,” Helena said. “But only slightly.”

She received a new small smile in response. Helena knew it was new, that it was a variation she had not previously seen, and knowing someone’s smiles would, under other circumstances, mean something. Under these circumstances, however? False intimacy. That was all it was, had been, would be. A strangely affecting day of false intimacy.

“I liked being engaged to you,” Helena ventured to the empty air, after Myka had gone.

****

Over the next weeks, Abigail, clearly an instigator of the first rank, would remark to Helena something on the order of, “You want to ask me about her.”

“The appearance of a conflict of interest,” Helena would respond.

Or Abigail would prod, “I could say hi to her for you, if you want.”

“And we could all lose our jobs as a result,” Helena would “remind” her.

Helena did not put a stop to these exchanges, mainly because they seemed to delight Abigail so thoroughly. Self-preservation: she needed to win the contract as much as she ever had, and there were now two strikes against her. Thus if Abigail enjoyed these good-natured tormentings of Helena, Helena would suffer them.

What she would also do—because Helena didn’t doubt that Abigail was digging at Myka in some similar way, perhaps even by reporting back to her exactly what Helena said—was ignore her own stupidly avid imaginings of the expressions that might cross Myka’s face whenever Abigail delivered any such dig, or any such report.

****

“You won,” Abigail informed Helena, directly after the closed-door city council meeting during which the decision was made. “You’ll get the official letter soon, but I figured you’d want to know ASAP. So get going, project manager. Oh, also, you were exactly right, in that final presentation, to talk about the fountain being optional. They nixed it first thing—but they were raving about your ‘flexibility.’”

Had it not been for the never-children, Helena most likely would not have remembered Myka’s words about the fountain for which the city would not pay... words that led her to adopt her position of supposed “flexibility.” Funny, then, or something: that Myka had influenced the decision after all. In reverse, and not knowing she had done so, but still.

Helena told Steve the good news, told the rest of the staff. Awarded bonuses. Steve’s was smaller than those of the others, but Helena said, in response to his quickly hidden disappointment, “I thought you’d appreciate a permanent rise in salary a bit more.”

“A raise,” he said, and he looked far too grateful about receiving something he had long deserved, so she made him laugh by correcting him: “Rise.” He asked if it would be paid in pounds rather than dollars, she said no, and he claimed the right to call it a raise.

Elation all around, well-earned excitement, a bit of trepidation at the size of the project. All as expected.

All as expected, but for the sharp thorn of regret that Helena could not dislodge from her own reaction to that good news.

It was not that she had been hoping for an alternative outcome. It was not even that she knew with certainty what she would have done, had that alternative outcome come to pass, other than rush to cobble together enough small projects to compensate and continue to make payroll. Whatever else she would have done would now never be known, and would never be done. And that, she was willing to admit to herself—but only as she sat in her office alone, staring at the model-piece—was the root of her regret.

****

On a morning two weeks after the awarding of the contract, Helena answered her telephone with an absent, “Helena Wells.”

“Hi,” she heard, and her immediate recognition of that voice ensured that Helena was no longer absent. “I just wanted to report,” Myka went on, “as someone with whom you have no personal relationship whatsoever would do, that I’m cancer-free.”

Helena was caught so wrong-footed that she managed only a general sound of enthusiasm, an exclamatory “Ah.”

It seemed to do, however, for Myka said, “Also... one other thing.”

Now Helena offered an interrogatory “Ah?”

“I need your help. Completely separate and apart from anything having to do with the bid and the city. You know how I said we’re not engaged anymore?”

Helena wrenched herself back onto an actual linguistic track. “Yes,” she said, with firm purpose.

“What if that weren’t true, just for one little evening?”

“What if it weren’t true that we are not engaged.”

“Right.”

“Which would mean that we are engaged,” Helena said, just to make sure they were talking about the same thing.

“Right.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s my mother. She’s going to be in town, and now that she knows Rick’s here, she wants to get together with him. And I don’t want to have to explain to him why you aren’t there too.”

“But doesn’t that mean you’ll have to tell your mother this... untruth?”

“That’s why it’s perfect. It gets her off my back times two: about Rick and about finding someone, period.”

“I suspect she’ll eventually become suspicious when we continue to postpone the wedding,” Helena said.

“I will cross that bridge when it stops buying me short-term peace.”

“If all you want is peace, why haven’t you simply told her an untruth already?”

“You don’t know my mother. She won’t believe things unless she sees them, and she won’t see them unless she believes them—but clearly, you and I are a believable couple, given that Rick bought it.”

He hadn’t, of course, so Helena had no real reason to imagine that Myka’s mother would be taken in. Helena tried, “Rick aside, I’m sure Abigail or anyone else you know would be delighted to pretend to have asked for your hand.” She suspected, in fact, that Abigail would throw herself into such a performance. For the entertainment value alone.

“Okay, I get it. You don’t want to do this, which is completely understandable. You’ve already done so much for me, and this is too much. I get it.”

Helena regarded the wire trees whose branches Myka had so carefully disarranged. She hadn’t touched them, hadn’t altered their windblown aspect since that disarrangement. She also had not reoriented the model-piece. Helena, too, had read that it was healthy to look at nature. “I didn’t say it was too much. But... are you always this duplicitous?”

A pause. Helena imagined the blink of lids over those green eyes. Then Myka said, “In my life, I have never been this duplicitous.”

“Then I’m not certain I should support your behaving in a way that is apparently wildly out of character.”

“I didn’t want to have to bring this up,” Myka said, her tone severe, “but: you started it. You’re the one who told Rick we were engaged.”

“No, you started it. You’re the one who had an unfortunate incident in my conference room and ended up in hospital.”

“Technically, then, I think H. pylori started it.”

“You’re blaming the bacterium,” Helena said, incredulous—and yet not at all incredulous.

“Well, I mean. Causes.”

And Helena thought: She may be the strangest person I have ever met. She is certainly one of the loveliest, both physically and—who can say?—very possibly in every other way as well. And regardless of whether those things have any bearing on the situation, you, Helena Wells, are the one who told Rick not to tell her that he knew. And he has apparently held to that, so you owe him some reciprocal courtesy, in terms of not causing Myka any additional embarrassment or trouble. And if telling this story to her mother would lighten any of the weight she bears...

“All right,” Helena said. “When and where?”

“When” was in three days’ time; “where,” Myka’s apartment. “My mom’s a picky eater,” she explained. “It’s easier to cook than to get restaurants to accommodate her.”

“And no one is likely to see us together.”

“There’s that,” Myka agreed.

TBC

[justjen523]

The Gods Children Series

Prologue 

(Series Rating M)

Let us begin the journey of welcoming a brand new generation of gods. 

     It was a cool and brisk evening late in the Fall when the moment they had all been fearing finally came to pass. Gathered on the mansion’s rooftop under the vast array of stars brought her the greatest comfort as it had always had. Twelve forlorn faces gazed down at her frail form held protectively and comfortably in place by Leon’s strong arms. There was no sadness in her eyes as she slowly looked upon each face that had contributed to a lifetime full of precious memories. 

     “Such sad faces tonight. Come now, where are the smiles I have come to cherish so deeply?” Her strained smile brought tears to the eyes of gods, not a feat so easily accomplished even by other divine beings. Yet this one tiny, frail little old woman had won the hearts of all of them. 

     “Foolish. Even now you still think only of us and not yourself.” She laughed as best as she could at the comment, her eyes wrinkling further at the corners as she stared at all of them with everlasting affection. 

     “We all knew this day had to come and now that it has I can tell all of you in perfect honesty that I have no regrets. Not one.” Leon’s big hand held hers tenderly and lightly closed around her frailness a little tighter upon hearing her confession. 

     “Well, maybe one. I wish I could have spared all of your hearts the pain of having to say goodbye to me.” Her form was visibly growing weaker before their eyes turning a dull ache into a bittersweet desperation. 

     “Typical goldfish.” Leon cradled her fading life force against his warm chest bringing her some comfort against the cool night air. 

     “It is time. Please never….never forget that I have and will always love each and every one of you. Forever.” Her voice sounded raspy and strained. She looked upon their faces one last time and smiled that same smile she always had. “My….friends from the stars. My Ikky. Teo. Dui. Aigo. Lou. Partheno. Krioff. Karno. Scorpio. Zyglavis. Hue. Leon.” The eleven other gods knelt around her and all layed a hand upon her so she could feel the warmth from every single one of them as she forever left this world. Her eyes slowly closed and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

     “L-Leon?” Her voice barely audible now called out softly.

     “I’m here goldfish.”

     “W-Will you g-g-grant m-me…one….last….”

     “Anything your heart desires.” Eyes still closed her smile widens.

     “M-Make s-something t-t-truly….wonderful….c-come…from…m-my….” 

     “………..”

     “Goldfish?” He already knew. He simply tightened his hold around her frail and lifeless body. All twelve gods were shedding tears for the one simple human life that forever left this world and them behind.

     “My Precious Children. It is a sad day indeed to lose our beloved former goddess. I cannot pretend not to know what comes next for her as though she was indeed born human her soul remains that of a goddess. Her precious soul however shall not return to the Heaven’s nor shall it be reborn.”

     “Why the hell not?! Don’t gimme any of yer entertainment crap either!”

     “Scorpio! Control yourself you are speaking to the King!”

     “You seriously okay with him pulln any of his typical shit when it comes to that stupid woman Zig?!” 

         “I cannot allow her to be reborn simply because that was her wish.”

     “Pffft, even you wouldn’t go that low just for a good laugh trickster.” Leon looked less than amused. Despite the King’s usual antics Leon knew better. The King would never play with a souls existence simply for entertainment.

     “You are correct. Her last wish to you was to make her death into something wonderful for all of you. A soul so pure and selfless made a wish so strong that it reached even me.”

     The gods were all stunned into silence. That had rarely ever happened and even then it had never been a wish made by a mere human.

     “For this reason I myself shall grant her last wish and give you all the gift she so greatly desired for each and every one of you deep within her heart. A truly “something wonderful” to honor the memory of a mere human that moved the hearts of gods. Rise and bear witness to a divine miracle my children.”

     The twelve gods rose to their feet, Leon still holding her in his arms. Her body began to glow a brilliant white light before disappearing only to reveal something that resembled a star shinning so brightly it was nearly blinding even to the gods. As they squinted, desperate to see what would come of her pure soul, they found themselves awestruck as the star shaped light began to split and multiply. When finished, thirteen smaller but equally bright and equally beautiful stars took it’s place. 

     “Behold, her final gift to all of you my sons. Nothing could ever be more precious.”

     A radiant light far brighter than any of them could withstand surrounded them and filled them with indescribable warmth. When the light finally faded away and the King and former goddess were gone, the twelve gods held in their arms the gifts she had given her soul for. 

     “W-W-WHAT?!”

     “Woah, is this for reeeeal?!”

     “Hey how come Dui has two?!” Thirteen babies were now nestled in their fathers arms leaving the new parents mostly speechless with the exception of the usual few. “

     “Her gifts were….babies?” Teorus still holding the squirming new little life peered down at a face that looked unmistakably like his. Glancing around it seemed the same held true for the others as well. 

     “Not just babies. It would seem her soul was divided and reshaped to create these new lives designed specifically for each of us.” Hue stared down at the content creature staring back at him with all too familiar eyes. 

     “Awww….nooooo fair! Seriously why does Dui get two?!” 

     “Geeze Ikky, quit it already this isn’t a pet or something! Plus look how stressed he looks! Cut him some slack already.” 

     “Hey, why does everyone have different colored blankets?” Krioff noticing the difference points it out suspiciously. Upon looking closer Zyglavis turns a bright shade of pink before answering matter-of-factly.

     “It would appear the color of the blanket indicates the sex of the child.” All of their eyes go wide immediately taking stock of their own situation.

     “Sweeeeeet! I have a son! Do you KNOW what this means Teo?! I sooooo have a partner in crime! We are gonna be UNSTOPPABLE!”

     “Ichthys you will do nothing of the sort. I forbid it. Do not underestimate me as I will confiscate said child should you fail to properly care for it.”

     “Geeeze Zig, relaaaaaax! You make it sound like I’m not going to be a good dad! Besides, what do yoooou have there?” Almost as if shielding her protectively his embrace swallows her from view. 

     “Pffft, what’s the matter ponytail? Afraid your problem child’s kid might shack up with yours at some point?” Leon snickered as the Minister of Punishments blushed profusely staring incredulously at Ichthys playing with his little one. 

     “As if I would ever allow such a thing! Besides, what about you Arrogant Lion? I wonder what everyone will think about the daughter of the Department of Wishes. If she’s anything like her Father the number of suitors lining up for her attention will be endless.” Leon’s face instantly turns sour at the thought. Meanwhile the others are all handling their new situations differently.

     “Heh! It seems this little fella inherited his father’s good looks.” Tauxolouve smiled slyly at the absurdly gorgeous baby in his arms. 

     “How bout you Aigo?” Aigonorous looks up sleepily.

     “She’s so soft and comfy.”

     “Pffft, she’s not a pillow Aigo.”

     “I know that, but look, even she knows how great sleep is.” 

     “Hey Partheno, you haven’t said much. Everything okay?” When the god of Virgo looks up his eyes are heavy with tears.

     “She saved me. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her, and now she gifted me this tiny precious miracle. I….I’m not sure I’m even worthy of such a gift.”

     “Partheno. If there was ever someone worthy it’s you man.” Lou rested his free hand on Partheno’s shoulder, the two of them sharing a silence as they remembered their departed former goddess. 

     In their own little worlds Krioff and Karno soothed and rocked the girls that would become the most precious women in their lives making for a beautiful scene. After lulling his precious baby girl to sleep Zyglavis approached an unusually silent Scorpio looking bewildered and in shock as he stared at his son’s smiling cherubic face. 

     “Hey bud, everything okay?” A few moments passed before he finally answered.

     “It’s too soon for this shit.” His voice was harsh and riddled with anger but his expression showed nothing but loss and pain.

     “I ain’t got any business raising some brat.”

     “Scorpio.” Zyglavis’ voice wasn’t chastising or severe as his brow furrowed at the evident discomfort on his Vice Minister’s face. 

     “I mean it Zig. This kid….deserves a real father. Someone who knows ‘the fuck what to do. I ain’t cut out for this shit.”

     “That is not true in the slightest.”

     “I don’t need anyone else fuckn’ up my heart. It was hard enough watchn’ her…..Tch. I….I didn’t even like that stupid woman.” Upon hearing that Zyglavis couldn’t hide his smile and took the opportunity to sit down next to Scorpio. 

     “That’s the biggest load of horseshit I have ever heard come out of your mouth.” Not used to hearing such things from his boss Scorpio’s head snaps up to see the god of Libra smiling at him warmly. His cheeks turn slightly pink a moment as he scowls further trying to cover up his embarrassment.

     “Err…you know wat I mean.” Zyglavis leans in and speaks quietly enough so only the two can hear.

     “You loved her. Probably more so than anyone else here because she saw who you were truly meant to be. Something you don’t show to anyone except the few you trust wholeheartedly.”

     “Yeah? The fuck good it did me. We all lost her in the end anyway.”

     “Not true.” Scorpio’s head snaps back up staring at his boss incredulously.

     “Look at the perfect tiny little life in your hands. He is a piece of her and was her final wish for your happiness. He was a gift born from the love she carried in her heart for you. Do not diminish her memory with such self deprivation. You forget who it is that you are speaking to.” Though he sounds severe his face shows nothing but gentle kindness as he comforts his mourning friend.

     “I don’t know the first thing bout raisn’ some kid.”

     “Pffft, and you think that I do?” Caught off guard by his statement Scorpio stares at Zyglavis a moment before the two burst into laughter.

     “It does not matter what we do or do not know as we will learn like any parent when raising a child and we can do so leaning on each other. Okay?” 

     “Zig.” The two share a smile further strengthening their bond as friends.

     “S’up with Dui? Poor kid looks lost.”

     “I must admit I have never seen him in such a state. I am not sure what the King or former goddess were thinking when they gifted Dui twins.”

     “Yeah, and not just any twins either. Fuckn’ girls. You know how creepy that shit is? I heard the stories, they like read each others minds or whatever.”

     “Shh, don’t let him hear you say such nonsense.”

     “Nonsense? You DO realize these are Dui’s kids right?”

     “Pffft, seems you’re back to your old self already. I should probably speak with him, excuse me.” After excusing himself he approached an exasperated looking Dui holding two tiny baby girls, one in each arm.

     “Dui, are you alright? You have not spoken a word.” Finally seeming to snap out of it he looks up to find Zyglavis staring at him with concern.

     “I-I’m okay. I think. I AM happy about having these two beautiful little girls but, at the same time…”

     “You are not alone Dui. We all miss her terribly. As I also told Scorpio, view them as an extension of her. They were crafted for you from her very soul with the intention and desire to bring you eternal happiness.”

     “You’re right. I didn’t even think of it that way to be honest. I was so caught up in watching her life….end, everything else just kinda felt like it wasn’t real you know?”

     “I do. Fear not, we are all in the same boat for better or worse. Besides, it would appear it is time to introduce the Heaven’s to the new generation born of a miracle here tonight.” 

-TBC-

[hysterialevi]

Where the Demons Sleep pt. 5 (Cobblebats)

From Bruce’s POV

WAYNE MANOR

“I want him dead, Brannigan,” I repeated, irritated at the man’s persistence. “I won’t say it again.”

Albert paused for a moment, clearly hesitant to go along with my plan. I could hear him clearing his throat.

“With all due respect, sir, Aiden could be of use to us. His sister, Vivienne, fought valiantly against William, and now she’s dead. Most-likely, the boy wants vengeance now. We can take advantage of that.”

I shook my head. “Aiden is brash and reckless. His plans are careless, and he acts without thinking. How else do you think William was able to capture him so easily? I won’t put our mission at risk simply because you took sympathy on some useless boy. We can’t give him the chance to go after William on his own. William is going to die -- but it’ll be by our hand. Understood?”

Albert’s tone sank with disapproval. “...Understood.”

I straightened my tie and hovered a finger over the “end call” button, standing up from my desk’s chair.

“Good. Now, go on and find someone to do the job. We can’t let anyone trace this back to us. Oh, and once they’re finished -- kill them. Loose ends, and all that. I’m sure you know the drill by now.”

Brannigan didn’t protest any further. “...Of course, sir. I will ensure this gets done quickly and cleanly.”

I glared at the open space in front of me as if I were face-to-face with Albert. “Yes, you will. Oh, and one more thing, Brannigan...”

He froze. “Sir?”

“If I find out that you tried to save Aiden behind my back, just remember: you aren’t the only connection I have in England. If I wanted, everything you own, everything you’ve touched -- it could all be mine before sundown. I don’t spare traitors, and you are certainly no exception. So save us all the trouble, and make sure it doesn’t come to that, yeah?”

He gulped out of nervousness. “I assure you, Mister Wayne, it will never come to that.”

I chuckled softly. “Let’s be realistic, shall we.” 

I let out a breath. “Anyways, you should get to work. If you need anymore info on Aiden, contact me. In the meantime, just make sure he drops dead.”

I could practically hear him nodding out of obedience. “Consider it done.”

“I’ll speak with you later, Brannigan.” 

Ending the call without another word, I allowed myself to enjoy a few seconds of silence as Brannigan carried out my orders on the other side of the world, escorting yet another soul across the River Styx. It was strange, sometimes, to think about how much I was impacting peoples’ lives when I rarely ever got to see the results in person. There was so much violence, so much backstabbing going on in England because of me, and yet, I was barely affected by it. Physically, at least.

Casually pacing around the office, I found myself staring at a family portrait of me and my parents, causing a wave of flashbacks to surge through my head. Even though it had been nearly two decades since the both of them were murdered, I could still hear my father’s voice scolding me everyday, telling me how I needed to be stronger. 

As a child, nothing I did ever seemed to please him. It was always too much, or too little, but never perfectly in between. Even when I defended Oz against the other kids who used to bully him, my father wasn’t impressed at all. In his eyes, I was just a scrawny, weak boy desperately trying to fill his father’s shoes -- and failing. 

In the beginning, I never understood why it was so hard to satisfy him. I used to think I was one of the toughest kids in the neighborhood -- what with how I defended my friends, and all -- and the fact that my father couldn’t see it only frustrated me more and more. I was fighting off bullies, punching them left and right, protecting those who were close to me, and still...my father called me weak. What more did he want?

Though, on the night of his death, I finally saw what he meant.

Staring back at the barrel of the gun that just murdered my parents, and preparing myself for what were almost my final moments...I had never felt more powerless in my life. Everything about the world I knew had been flipped around all because of a single man, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was the first time I ever experienced true, genuine fear, and that was the day when I realized what my father meant by “strength.”

He was never talking about physical endurance, or the ability to knock someone’s teeth out. To him, true strength meant growing a will of steel, and being able to greet death as an equal.

To me though, that was simply everyday life.

Sharing a throne with Hill, Brannigan, William, and Falcone was about as exhausting as one could imagine, and if I didn’t act quickly, there was no guarantee I would still have a portion of the power in the future. My best chance right now was to turn them against each other, and hopefully, eliminate them one by one, leaving room for no one else but me. A task much easier said than done, but nonetheless, still doable.

Before I could think on the matter anymore however, a friendly voice suddenly spoke from behind me, tearing my attention away from the family portrait. It was Alfred.

“There you are,” he greeted with a smile. “I thought I might find you here. You’ve been working tirelessly these past few days -- locked up in this office. I figured you could use some fresh, hot tea to relax. All is well, I hope?”

I quickly returned the smile, taking one of the warm cups into my hand. “Yeah. Thanks, Al. I just finished talking with Regina about some business. Things have been busy in Wayne Enterprises, but nothing we can’t handle.”

The butler beamed with relief. “That’s good to hear, Bruce. For a moment, I was afraid you might be overwhelmed. Clearly though, you’re much stronger than I thought.”

I let out a fake chuckle, trying my best to act normal as I took a sip. “...you have no idea.”

Placing the tray of tea down, Alfred adjusted his glasses and walked up to me, his eyes landing on the family portrait as he let out a nostalgic sigh.

“Are you...all right, Bruce?” He asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but I happened to catch you viewing this painting rather intently mere moments ago...which is understandable. We all reminisce every once in a while. Memories can often provide company in the absence of people. Though, in your case, I’m not sure if those memories are exactly...desirable.”

I glanced up at my father’s face, his stone-cold expression almost immediately swatting my gaze away. I took another sip of the tea.

“I was just wondering if...if Dad would be proud of who I am today. You know how he used to berate me when I was a child. I was always too weak, or too timid -- never the capable, hardy son he wanted.” I stared blankly at teacup in my hand, my reflection looking back at me. “Do you...do you think he’d still see me in the same way now?”

Alfred scoffed, though not in a mocking manner. 

“Why, of course not, Bruce. You’ve become quite the formidable, adamant young man. Hardly anything shakes you.” He folded his hands behind his back. “I...understand that Thomas may have been difficult to please, and his standards were always rather high, but I’ve no doubts he’d be proud of you now. I know I certainly am.”

You wouldn’t be if you knew who I really was, I thought to myself. On the outside though, I simply accepted the praise.

“Thanks, Al.” I said, finishing the remains of my tea. “That means a lot.”

I placed the empty cup back on the tray. “Well, I’ve had my break for the day. I should get back to work. I’ve got many things to attend to, and even less time.”

Alfred nodded. “Then I shall let you go. Just...try not to strain yourself too much, yes? For an old man’s sake.”

I chuckled. “Which old man are you referring to?”

Just then, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, bringing our conversation to a pause. I briefly checked the device.

Carmine: Need to talk. Now.

Carmine: It’s about Ham.

Carmine: Meet me at the cafe. 

Carmine: Make sure no one follows you.

I brought my attention back to Alfred. “And there’s my queue.”

“Is everything all right?” He checked, noticing the concerned look on my face. I hurried out of the office, hoping to avoid further questioning from him.

“Yeah, yeah. Something’s just come up at Wayne Tower, and I need to go sort it out. I’ll see you later, Al.”

“Very well,” he said, taking the tray into his hands. I could tell he was just a tad suspicious of my abrupt exit. “Good luck, sir. If you ever require my assistance, you know where to find me.”

I replied to him in my head.

If I ever require assistance, you’ll be the last person I drag into this goddamn mess. 

That was what Hill and Falcone were for, and I intended to keep it that way. They were “friends” of mine, sure, but neither of them could even compare to Alfred’s companionship. They were easily expendable, and they weren’t the only crime bosses in this city. If the situation ever presented itself, I had no doubts I’d be able to find sufficient replacements for both of them. 

Alfred, on the other hand...he was the treasure in a tomb of traps. There wasn’t a single person in Gotham who could follow in his footsteps, and if anyone even dared to touch him, there’d be hell to pay. 

He was the only true family I had left, and I was willing to do anything to keep him safe...even if that meant locking away my deepest secrets from him. Knowing too much information was the reason my parents were murdered, and I had no plans on sacrificing Alfred to the same fate.

[rdmfavcpls]

I Wished Someone Care

Title: I Wished Someone Cared

Rating: T

Category: Digimon

Pairing: Ami x Arata friendship

Summary: After Chapter 6 when Arata finds out that Nishino had fallen to Eater Syndrome and walks away from Ami. Ami goes back to the agency to file her report but tells Kyoko that she’s going back to her mom’s house. Arata comes by later on to find Ami is away from the Agency.

Disclaimer: I Do Not Owe The Rights To Digimon Or Its Franchise.

Writer’s Note: I have the original digi-destined mentioned in here with the ending of the second season. Mentions of Jyou and Koushiro. Does not match with the games events.

~~Story Begins~~

Ami watched sadly as her friend Arata Sanada walked away. She waited for his black rumpled hair and white overcoat with blue stitching that matched the front of his full body undercoat to get out of her eyesight before walking towards Kuremi Agency. The wind blowing her small red side ponytail in front of her blue eyes, her digivice goggles getting some of the hair caught, her yellow backpack was filled with much needed items for her dearly beloved Lillymon and hanging on her black and yellow shirt with circles on the front, her black skirt blowing against her long legs, yellow knee high socks and black shoes completed her outfit.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she kept walking, “I guess I really don’t have anyone who truly cares about me. I know they don’t allow friends to visit if one has EDEN Syndrome, Mom is doing her first book abroad, Takumi is studying in America so I’m happy that they don’t know about my physical state right now.” She talked quietly to herself feeling alone and homesick. “Ryota is too worried about Sakura and Sakura is all crazy about this Jimi Ken singer. Kyoko and Mirel know about what’s really wrong with me, Yuuko might have an idea, but as for Nokia and Arata, they think I’m perfectly fine.”

She looked at Nakano’s building and the feeling of being homesick grew. She heard a dog bark and looked to the side seeing a young man walking his Russell Terrier past the pet store. She smiled and walked inside the building as she thought about returning home for the weekend.

Kyoko Kuremi was a very busty woman who enjoyed showing off her long blonde locks and curvaceous body, but her brown eyes and intelligent mind (except for when it came down to coffee), proved she knew a lot more than most. When she saw her assistant walk in to file her report, she had a feeling that Ami would need time off. Especially since Ami’s mom called asking why Ami hasn’t turned in any of her schoolwork leaving Kyoko to call her school and explain that she was focusing on solving a very dangerous case.

Once Ami turned her report into Kyoko, Kyoko spoke to her, “You have done wonders since becoming my assistant but I guess I forgot you are also a high school student. That is one of the reasons as to why I’m offering you a ride to your residency. This case that Date gave you also took quite a bit out of you. So, I’m giving you the rest of the week off so you can get your school work done and relax. Good thing today’s Monday, right?”

“Really, but what about the cases?” Ami asked.

“I’ll take care of them, so shall we get going? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not giving you an option to refuse. Your digivice now, please. This way your friends can’t try to get you to help them for free,” Kyoko responded holding her hand out.

Ami hesitated but gave her boss her digivice,”Thank you so much Kyoko. I was just going to ask you for the weekend off.”

Kyoko didn’t have the heart to tell Ami that she heard how bad her case of homesickness was.

~~Two Days Later~~

Arata Sanada was trying to figure out if he said or did something wrong to Ami. He’s been trying to get a hold of her to ask about the ‘weird stalker’ guy. Sure, he hasn’t known Ami long but for her to call him that and than that man being arrested - obviously Arata was missing parts of the picture.

Arata was browsing through the book store in Shibuya trying to figure out if he should ask around in EDEN about Ami when he looked out of the store’s window. Right outside was Ami with her hair being out of the small side of the ponytail, the ends of her hair resting against the middle of her shoulder blades, her usual black and yellow outfit was replaced by a baby blue t-shirt and a black skirt with blue stars that was the same length as her usual skirt. Ami was walking past the shop talking to a boy that was wearing a local Shibuya school uniform and blonde hair.

Arata quickly went to the checkout desk, leaving the books he plans on buying there before running out of the shop. Thankful that the workers there know him and that he was a frequent customer.

“I absolutely refuse to buy-” the unknown boy was saying to Ami until -

“Ami!” Arata yelled causing both of them to stop and turn around to face him.

“Arata?” Ami asked tilting her head to the side. Once Arata got closer, she spoke again, “Did something happen to Mari or Nishino?”

“Mari is recovering and Nishino is still a victim of EDEN Syndrome. The question that should be asked is where have you been?” Arata responded sticking his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for the last two days!”

“Kyoko has my digivice,” Ami responded. “She’s letting me have this week off.”

“Oh, and you didn’t bother to tell anyone that?” Arata huffed. “Here I am worrying about you and you just so happen to be perfectly fine.”

The other male tapped Ami on the shoulder, “I’ll catch up with you later so I won’t be included in this conversation. Still okay for me to come by your mom’s place later tonight?”

Ami nodded, “You know you are always welcome, Ryota, whether it be my mom’s place or my apartment.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you later than,” Ryota said before taking off. Arata turned and watched Ryota run towards a girl with a blank expression and brown pigtails.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that he’ll happily spend more time with Sakura?” Ami said fondly before shrugging her shoulders. “Kyoko asked me to give her my digivice so I really didn’t have time to notify anyone.”

Arata turned his attention back to her, “Anyway, where have you been?”

“Mom’s place and the library,” the cyber sleuth responded. “I’ve seen you at the library as well. You usually are to focused in the magna section or you are trying to understand medical terms.”

“...why didn’t you say something then?”

“Because I didn’t want to bother you, plus I’ve been busy trying to self-teach myself all the information I’ve missed from school along with helping Ryota get caught up again,” Ami explained. “I honestly didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Yeah, well, don’t do it again,” Arata said with a kind smile. “How much school work do you still have to finish? I might be able to help you with it if you tell me as to why that one nerd is a ‘weird, stalker guy.’”

“Easy enough,” Ami smiled placing her hands behind her back. “Mom’s place isn’t too far from here. Did you want to get your books first?”

“Uh, yeah,” Arata said looking away briefly. “Give me one minute.” Ami smiled and shook her head as Arata went back inside the shop. “How did she know I have books?”

The guy at the checkout desk was grinning from ear to ear at Arata when he approached, “What?”

“Arata, man, when did you get a girlfriend? Especially one with the beautiful looks that she does?” the check-out guy asked.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Arata defended. “She’s just a good friend of mine I met online.”

“Oh, then do you think that I have a -”

“No,” Arata interrupted. “You do not.”

The checkout guy laughed, “You do have a crush on her. I don’t think I have ever seen you act so protective before.”

“...Shut up,” Arata said paying for his books.

“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do,” the clerk yelled as Arata left the store.

“Weirdo,” Arata said outside. He looked around for Ami and spotted her across the streets.

Ami was talking to another person who was wearing a kitty maid outfit. Arata walked over and stood next to Ami as the other person kept talking, “Kenji has the hots for both-”

“I’m sorry, Lily,” Ami interrupted as she acknowledge Arata, “but I really must get going. Tell everyone in the occult club I say hi please.”

“Occult club?” Arata asked confused.

Lilly’s eyes seemed to have a glint in them as she noticed how close Arata was standing to Ami and she opened her mouth to make a statement when her alarm started to go off, “Shoot, my break’s over. I’ll see you later.”

Lilly went back inside a nearby building which caused Ami to let out a sigh, “I just wanted to know how everyone is doing. Not the latest gossip.”

“You happen to be a member of an occult club as well?” Arata asked with a raised eyebrow. “No wonder it’s never boring when you are around.”

“I’m not a member,” Ami said. “I’ve just had to solve one and a half cases for them.”

“I thought you was a cyber sleuth?”

“Yeah, they thought Kyoko’s business dealt with the occult and not cyber crimes,” Ami responded. “Shall we get going?”

“How dare that police woman try to keep me away from my true love!” a voice yelled causing Ami to sigh.

“Here’s the guy who you wanted to know about, “Ami said as she started to walk away from the shops and in the direction of the residential area.

“I have now realize that the florist girl was just a decoy, a test of my love,” the voice continued to shout. “I have passed that test. My true love is that cyber sleuth who was asking about the disappearance.”

The color in Ami’s face washed away as Arata asked, “True love?”

“Hell no,” she responded grabbing Arata’s wrist, “I’ve dealt with him once. Not dealing with him a second time.” She started to run making Arata stumble before he started to run with her.

Once they got to the residential area, Ami finally slowed down to a walk, letting go of his wrist. “Well,” Arata spoke first. “I can understand as to why he’s a ‘weird, stalker guy’ now.”

“Please, Nishino was his first target and wanted her personal information, her address, EDEN account information, it was bad,” Ami said shaking her head. “I talked to Nishino who said that he was stalking her. I don’t know why but something snapped and I confronted him. He was the one who told me about the Comic Mania forum.” Ami spun around as she looked at Arata, a bright smile on her face. “Or the Commani forum for short.”

“Shut up,” Arata said. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Ami laughed as she turned back around, “You aren’t the only one who reads manga you know. Remember that I work in Nakano and have become good friends with the bookstore clerk there.”

She turned the corner and proceeded to go up the stairs that led to a two story house that had fruit and sakura trees in the front. “Hey! Hey! Where do you think you are going?” Arata asked as he stayed on the main sidewalk. “Do you know whose house that is?”

“Yeah, it’s my mom’s place,” Ami responded. Arata just stared at her like she was crazy.

“I highly doubt your mom is Yukino Kido,” Arata stated crossing his arms.

“Why is that hard to believe? The fact that my last name is Aiba?”

“You used your last name as your username in Digi-line?”

“That is not the point!” Ami exclaimed placing her hands on her hips. “Why do you not believe that Yukino is my mother? Because I don’t look like her?”

“Calm down,” Arata said placing his hands in the air. “It’s mostly just because you don’t act like someone whose mother is considered a celebrity throughout the world. Seriously? You used your last name as your handler online? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

Arata walked up the stairs and continued following her up the stairs. “I honestly didn’t think I would have time to be online as much as I was, let alone in EDEN, so I just created an account because I had to for school. I didn’t realize I was actually going to be using it.”

Arata watched as she unlocked the front door and a mass of brown and black fur rushed out of the door jumping at Ami’s legs. Ami laughed and bent down to pick up the moving mass of fur which was a little Yorkshire Terrier. “Yes, Jyou, I’m home. I missed you too. Now I want you to meet my friend, Arata. Be nice to him and be nice to Ryota who is coming over later, okay?”

Jyou stuck out his tiny paw towards Arata waiting for him to shake it. Arata chuckled under his breath as he shook the paw, “You have a really good trained dog.”

“He’s never done that on the first meeting before,” Ami responded confusion evident in her eyes and voice. “It took him two months to get used to Ryota and he still hasn’t shook with him.”

“I must be an ‘irregular’ than,” Arata responded shaking his head.

~~In A Parallel World Somewhere~~

An old man with grey hair, oval framed glasses covered his black eyes as he watched from his window where Ami and Arata was talking outside. Ami was holding onto a Gomamon in her arms while Arata’s Tentomon was in the tree above them taking a nap in the warm sunlight.

“Yes, I do approve of this Arata Sanada boy,” the old man said towards another Gomamon.

Gomamon stared at him with wide eyes, “He has had trouble with the law and you approve of him? Jyou, are you feeling okay?”

Jyou laughed and patted his digimon partner’s head, “I’m feeling fine. I haven’t seen her smile like that since Yukino got a better journalist job that leaves Ami alone most of the year. Besides, I’m not 100% sure but I do believe that Mr. Sanada is related to Koushiro since he’s so young and already a skilled hacker.”

“You never fail to surprise me Jyou,” Gomamon said watching the two teenagers with Jyou. “You’ve become a proud grandfather.”

~~Back In The World Story Takes Place~~

“So Jyou here doesn’t know how to shake,” Arata started to ask as he sat at the kitchen while Ami made them some tea, “but he shook hands with me?”

“Strangest thing that dog has ever done,” Ami responded bringing two cups of tea over to the table. “He’s even snuggling up to you. The only other male that he’s acted this way with is my grandpa who is named after.”

“Well, he’s about as strange as his owner,” Arata smiled waiting for the tea to cool down. “So, how much homework do you have left?”

“Algebra, German, Psychology, and Med I,” she responded. “The only hard one is my Med I class.”

“You are a cyber sleuth but taking classes to become a doctor?”

“Family tradition for the Kido’s, my mom’s side of the family. My great uncle never had children so it falls upon me to become a doctor,” Ami said taking a sip of her tea. “So, why exactly were you worried about me? I know it’s not because of the stalker guy.”

“Shouldn’t we be working on your homework so you could enjoy the rest of your week off?” Arata asked trying to change the subject.

Ami had her tea cup close to her mouth with her eyes closed when she spoke, “Are you afraid of me making fun of you?”

“No, you already know most of my secrets and we haven’t known each for long.”

Just the way that Ami slowly sat her teacup down made Arata think he said the wrong thing however, he wasn’t quite sure. Especially since Ami laughed as she got up, “You don’t want to lose your ‘cool’. I understand. I’ll be back with my homework.” With that being said, she left the kitchen.

Arata looked down at the dog, the dog was looking up at Arata, his eyes half closed almost like he was glaring at the hacker. “Did I say something wrong?”

Jyou jumped off of Arata’s lap and went towards his grey pillowy pet bed.

Ami leaned against her bedroom door, looking at the ground. “He showed more concerned for Marippe and Nishino than he is for me. I know I shouldn’t be disappointed in it, but it would still be nice to know people worried about me.” She pushed herself away from the door and grabbed her school bag.

Arata was still sitting at the kitchen table when Ami returned, “Your dog left me.”

“He probably got tired of your lap,” Ami shrugged as she sat her bag down on the table. “Are you sure you wish to help me with my homework?”

“I don’t talk back on my offers,” Arata deadpanned. “I came here to help you.”

“Then which one do you wish to help me with,” Ami spoke pushing her bag towards him.

“It’s going to be the only one I can help you with, Algebra.”

So Ami listened to Arata who was explaining on how to do complex equations along with the geometry part of it, something in which she couldn’t understand. When he left, Marippe digi-lining him repeatedly asking for him to come over to watch a series with her, Ami was caught up in Algebra. She was only two assignments behind in that class to begin with.

Ryota had messaged her, stating that he had to cancel to hang out with Sakura more and that something was bothering him about Sakura’s behavior, so Ami was left alone...again.

She looked at Jyou, “Shall I finish my homework on the couch?” He went to the couch and waited for the female. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

It was quiet once Ami got back, nothing unusual besides the normal unusual for a while than Ami was caught in between Nokia and Ararta. She got Nokia’s quest done first for reasons. Nokia is impatient, she has little experience in Digimon battles, and she could easily be taken advantage of. Arata would be upset but understanding, plus he can take care of himself when push comes to shove.

On the way to Shinjuku, where Arata was waiting for her, her body glitched out once before returning, she rubbed her temples. “It’s getting worse. Hopefully, the cure will be found before glitching out becomes common,” she whispered to herself, trying to calm herself down.

Ami met up with Arata, a smile on her face as he shook his head, “You helped Nokia first,” he said watching her nod, her smile disappearing. “That idiot is going to get what’s coming and you'll be the one swooping in to save her, you know that?”

“I always wanted to be a knight in armour coming in and saving people,” Ami spoke.

“Weirdo,” Arata grumbled. “Anyway, let’s go.”

He turned around and went to head towards the subway, “Wait a minute,” Ami said. “Please.”

Arata rolled his eyes and turned around to stare at her, watching her go to the EDEN portal. “If you need to do something before we start than do -” Ami held her hand up and Arata watched as a blue and white portal opened up and Ami’s body turning into little data blocks before the portal vacuumed them it, “-it. Ami?” He walked over to the portal, looked around it, lifted his hand up to it...nothing. “Ha, ha, this isn’t funny, Ami.”

No response. He pulled out his digivice and tried to call her, no connection. He sat down and proceeded to try and find her signal. No signal.

“What the hell Ami? This isn’t normal,” Arata said as he kept trying to call Ami.

When Ami arrived in the front of the Asakusa gate where a Digital Shift was happening, the first thing she thought of ‘Oh no’. Her digivice started ringing and she answered it, expecting Kyoko to call her and tell her about Asakua only for Arata’s holographic image to appear.

“What the hell happened, Ami? I’ve been trying to get through to you. Where are you?” Arata questioned.

“Asakusa,” she said almost like she didn’t wanted to respond and that she was confused as well. “Look there’s-”

“Asakusa!? How the hell did you get there? Look, don’t move, don’t do anything until I get there, okay?” Arata said before ending the call.

Ami sighed as she emailed Kyoko, “So much for Arata not knowing.”

She had planned on taking care of the Digital Shift before going back to do Arata’s quest, but she did owe him for making him wait as she took care of Nokia’s quest first, then ending up in Asakusa.

“Okay,” Arata said as he finally stood in front of her, his hands on his knees bent down, and trying to get his breath back.

“Did you run all the way here?” Ami asked.

“No, I took the subway and than ran from the subway to here following your digivice signal,” he responded. “Not everyone can teleport like you can.”

“First time it happened this far, usually I appear within the area still,” Ami spoke causing Arata to look at her with a glare. Then she realized that she just admitted to Connect Jumping to someone who doesn’t know she’s pure data wearing a disguise, “Haha, let’s get going into Asakusa Digital Shift now before Date shows up.”

Arata looked at the gate as Ami went in which he followed, “I still have questions that you need to answer.”

“I will later,” Ami spoke welcoming her digital friends, Lillymon, Antylamon, and Ikkakumon. “Suedo is already here, I talked with him briefly while waiting for you.”

After their discussion with Suedo, many random digimon battles, Ami happened across a dead end causing Arata to cross his arms, “Do you not know how Asakusa is laid out?”

Ami turned around and faced him, “It’s been awhile since I was last here.”

“Anyway, what happened in Shinjuku to get you to come here?” Arata spoke.

“We don’t have time for that right now,” Ami spoke trying to get around Arata only for him to block her way by stepping in front of her.

“Oh? I think we have plenty of time and I want my answers,” Arata responded with a frown. “So, what happened?”

“It’s called connect jump,” Ami said.

“What the hell is a connect jump? Ah, where do you think you are going?” Arata asked grabbing Ami’s arm. She almost made it past him but by the time she could take a step back, Arata had her trapped more. Her back pressed against one of the buildings, his hands gripping both of her arms tightly, his grey eyes were glaring at her own blue eyes, “I want answers. Now what’s a connect jump?”

“It’s what Kyoko calls it, the ability to go into the connecting links of databases,” Ami spoke. Her Digimon must not see him as a threat otherwise they would have attacked.

“No way, you can go into the very basic of wiring of EDEN?” Arata asked amazed.

“Of any electronics,” Ami spoke, tempted to tell him that she uses the TV in Kyoko’s office to get to EDEN a lot. “I’ve fixed the old A/C and heater in Broadway plus a game app. Now can we go?”

“No. How are you able to do this?” Arata asked. “Because seeing my friend get turn into data blocks before getting sucked into a portal isn’t normal.”

“Arata, where’s our Digimon?” Ami asked now realizing that the rapid buzzing of Lillymon’s wings, the curious and inquisitive comments made by Antylamon or the loud heavy thuds of Ikkakumon moving, were gone.

“Don’t be changing the subject,” Arata spoke. “How can you connect jump?”

“Be careful,” Ami spoke as she escaped his grip by glitching, the blue blocks moving around his hands. “Ground is about to shake.”

Just as she was back in one piece, the ground shook, resembling that of an earthquake. It lasted for three seconds but those seconds felt forever to Arata. Once the ground stopped shaking, Ami spoke, “We need to hurry otherwise when it moves, we move with it.”

She stared as she turned the corner and saw all four of the Digimon asleep, “Ami-”

“I have what Kyoko dubs a ‘half cyber body’, she can explain more,” Ami spoke waking her Digimon up.

Within the shadows, overhearing the conversation, two hands rubbed together in glee, “How interesting, Ms. Aiba, perhaps the tidbits of information you gave me will be most influential into not only my work, but also in convincing your young friend there to join me experiments.”

~~The End~~

[babykpopsweets]

Hidden in Corridors

|Anonymous Requested|

~Life is full of decisions

Genre | angst 

Many secrets lie around the Kim sisters. Moreover their agencies, YG and SM Entertainment. You might wonder why they aren’t in the same agency, and how both of them got into the agencies. The Kim sisters will tell us all.

“Sis, sis, wake up!” Your sister, Jennie Kim said as she lightly shook you awake.

“uahanabsjsx whatttt?” You grumble as you awoke 

“It’s your first day of your job aish do I have to take care of everything?” She thwacked you on the forehead. 

“oW ok ok I’m awake! You woke me up 3 hours earlier than my alarm!” You said as you turned to check your clock. 

“That’s because I want you to be early for work! Haven’t you ever heard of the saying when you’re on time your late? Yeah well, I don’t want you to be late.” 

Sigh. She’s just like mom. 

(15 mins later) 

(Jennie’s POV) 

*hums playing with fire* As you were making breakfast for your little sis you were worried for how long you can keep it a secret before she finds out.. you don’t want to put her in danger because of your job. But you hate keeping this a secret from her. It;s better off for her that she must never find out. 

“Y/N BREAKFAST IS READDDYYYYYYYY” 

“OKAYYYYYYYYY” Y/n walks out of the hall and sees what you made for breakfast.

“Mmmm bacon and pancakes,” she said as you put down her meal.

“ So where are you working?“ You asked Y/N.

 “ Umm some small business that’s all. So what’s it like working in general?“ 

 “….” You weren’t sure what to say at that moment. 

Do you tell her? Do you lie? You lied. 

“ It’s… uh fine a bit boring but fine actually.” You smiled at her knowing it was the complete opposite of that. But she didn’t know. She could never know.Ever.

~3 years ago~ 

“heYyY dEAr wAtS Up?¿” A clearly drunk man said to you as you were walking home late at night.

 “I’m sorry sir I’m in a bit of a hurry” 

“AwW cOmE oN dOn’T yOu waNNa hAnG WiT mE?”

 “I’m sorry sir”

 “you better fucking come back here bitch”  Then suddely his emotions changed and he grabbed your arm and before he could say another word you punched him in the gut, kneed him in the groin and gave him another punch in the face. Kickboxing was worth it. Then suddenly, a mysterious man came up and  as you were about to punch him, he said  

“wait I’m not drunk, and your not my type but I saw what you did there. That was pretty impressive. Why don’t you put your skills to use?” The mysterious man handed out a card to you. It read: YG Entertainment. Wait a second. YGE? I thought that spy agency was a myth.

  “No thank you, sir, but I’m flattered with the offer"”

“You’ll get a generous pay and work benefits”

 “What kind of benefits?” Mr. Kwon Ji Yong ( or GD ) explained that with the generous pay, you’ll be upgraded to live in an apartment of other agents with the other people you live in, and provided with ANYTHING that you need. But, being an agent isn’t so easy, since you are risking your life almost everyday. But anything for Y/n and mom to be in a nice apt without worrying to pay the bills. You mom has been having a hard time to keep up with the bills since your dad left. And Y/n has been losing weight due to eating less.

“I’ll do it.”

 ~now~

  “Jennie? Are you okay? You spaced out” Y/n looked at you, a bit confused.

 “Oh yeah I’m fine just daydreaming don’t worry about it. Hey listen I have to go to work good luck on the first day love you bye!” You grabbed your keys and left.

 (Y/n’s point of view)

    You watched as Jennie left and got up to wash the dishes.*i have 2 hours left. I can make it in time* you thought to yourself. You weren’t sure what to expect from SM Entertainment. When you were training it was very intense. But you had to do it, for Jennie’s sake. Over time, you saw Jennie becoming more and more stressed out from her job, which made her earn less money(For some reason.) And when mom died it only made it worse, since all she has left is you now. It’s also not helping that due to her hard time earning money, (which makes her even MORE stressed out ) she has to work more. So you have to do it. No matter how difficult it may be for you.

~1 year ago~ 

      “Excuse me, are you Kim Y/n?” You were on your way to the supermarket when a random handsome man interrupted your stride.

“It depends, who is asking?”

“I am Kim Jun-myeon, but call me Suho. Let’s talk in a cafe or somewhere public. It looks strange, a man stopping a woman just to talk to her.”

~In a cafe~

“So Jun-myeon, why do you need me?”

“Well, you are currently in Taekwondo and MMA am I correct?”

“…Yes. How did you know that? Who are you?” 

“ Do not worry Y/n., I’m just here to recruit you.”

‘Recruit me? To where?”

Jun handed you a card from his pocket. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. SM Entertainment. One of the biggest spy groups. But it was just a myth. Isn’t it?

“So do you see now? We want you in out team Y/n. Will you join us?”

“But why? And how do you know me?

“To explain it, we research the top kids in college or school, ranking in sports and classes. Then we wait a few years until they are of legal age and we see if they are still eligible to join, and you still are. So the question still remains. Will you join? It will only take a year for you to train since you are well in shape.”

“…I uhhh…..” He looks at you patiently. Should I join? I’ve heard rumors about how bad these things can get..but Jennie needs the help.

“I accept the offer.”

~present~

       “ Hello Miss Kim. Are you ready for your first mission?” Jun said as he opened the door to SM headquarters. You smile and say:

“Of course I am, after all the best agent trained me to do so.”

“Yes, yes he did.”

You walked in and saw the front desk and checked in. Suho (Jun-myeon) did the same after you. It was almost 8, which meant you had to be in the boss’s office to receive your first ever mission. You were nervous, since this is the first time you are meeting your boss Mr  Kim Yung-min, face to face. You weren’t sure what was held in store for you. But, you had to do this. For Jennie. You open the the door.

“Good Morning Miss Kim. I have been expecting you.”

(Jennie’s POV)

     Another day, another mission. As per usual. The YGE building has not changed at all, despite the 3 and a half years you’ve been here.

“Hey Jennie! How it’s going?” Your best friend, Lisa greeted you and handed you an envelope.

“Huh? What’s this?”

“I dunno the boss just handed it to me and said to hand it to you. Maybe it’s a toooooop secreeeeettt missssionn? You are the boss’s favorite after all.” She gave you a little nudge and you rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“ Yeah yeah whatever.” You opened the envelope and saw that it IS a secret mission. You had to steal an potentially dangerous weapon. It is a hard drive that can access any technology and steal any information the person chooses. With this hard drive, our information and safety details can be compromised. So you have to destroy this device before it can get to your rival agency, SME. The mission starts at midnight.

(Y/n’s POV)  

“Y/n are you ready for your mission?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well I need you to steal a weapon. Do you know what this is?” He shows you a picture of a black hard drive with a blue stripe in the middle.

“It’s a hard drive. But how is it a weapon?”

“Well it is no ordinary hard drive. This has the possibility to obtain any information to the technology it’s plugged in to. With this, we can obtain data from our rivals and destroy their plans. This can be a game changer for all of us. So I am confident with your skills that you will successfully retrieve it from the docks. Your mission starts at midnight. Are you ready?” He sees you slightly turn pale at his words. 

“Y-yes sir,”

“Then you are dismissed.”

          Still a bit pale, you walk out of Mr. Kim’s office. You were taken aback that out of all people HE chose YOU. It was only your first day and he assigned you such a big mission! I guess he thought you can handle it. You better train with Suho until the mission starts just in case.

“Hey Suho” You said

“Yes Y/n?”

“Mr. Kim assigned me a big mission so I was wondering if we can train for extra practice.”

“Ok lets go into the training room.”

~training room~

     Since you have been recruited, you’ve been training with Suho all along. You guys can be pretty brutal when it’s time to train…but that’s what’s like on field right? Just violence, crime, and..murder whenever you go out. This is really it. Your first mission in SME. But were you actually fit for the job? You weren’t really sure…Suho and Mr. Yung-min always seemed to have a lot of faith in you, but you weren’t sure why. All of this pressure put on you made you nervous. Why did he have to put this burden on me? Why do I have to I have to do this? The big question still remained in the back of your head.. Am I ready for this life? You can’t be thinking about these things now Y/n! Especially when training! So you decided to push these thoughts away and finish training with Suho.

~End of Training~

      “Hey Y/n are you okay? You were seemed distracted and it made you sloppy.”

“Oh I was? Dangit Y/n!” You lightly slapped your head

“Y/n. Whats wrong?” He looked at you with a concerned face.

“Well..its just that..I don’t think I can do this. I feel like I’m inadequate compared to you guys. Just look at you and Mark from the nct unit. You guys are the top of the class, and i feel like I’. m just some worm that came in a year ago. Then Mr. Kim assigns this huge mission on me and I-I” You choked on your tears.

“Y/n…Don’t say that. You are one of the most capable woman I have ever met, trust me and you are just as good as me and Mark. So don’t say that about yourself. I believe in you. And that mission? I know you’ll succeed. For sure.” He pulls you into a hug and you finally break down while he’s holding you. 

 "Thank you, Suho" 

 "No problem, Y/n now let’s continue training shall we?“

      Once you guys were finished it was 11:50 at night. It was almost time.

(Jennie’s POV)

    You were almost ready when you noticed it was almost 12. Oh shit better hurry. The hard drive was located at the docks, as it was newly shipped from a hidden sender. *bzzt* *bzzt* Your phone’s alarm went off. MISSION STARTS NOW it said. The ‘67 Chevrolet Impala was up and ready you now are on your way . You hoped Y/n was in bed right now. You knew how she would go on late night walks when she couldn’t sleep..

(Y/n’s POV) 

        “Ok Suho it’s time now I have to go. Thank you for everything.”

“Y/n be safe. Good luck” Suho kissed you on the cheek and headed out.

    A bright red hue followed your smile as you went to go get ready. You decided to take a bus to somewhere nearby the docks so you would be more hidden. Once you were waiting for the bus you noticed a Chevy Impala passing by. It was identical to Jennie’s. Your heart was beating so frantically that you couldn’t focus to see if the driver’s plate matched Jennie’s. Man you were n e r v  o u s. But remember what Suho said, Y/n. And don’t forget who are doing this for.

     You arrived at the docks. It was dark, a bit foggy, only lit by streetlights and moon hidden in the clouds. The air was cool and smelled faintly of the sea. Waves and occasional owls was all you can hear. You took out the scanner and did an area check for the drive. There it was! just 20 feet away from you, to the left. Now it was the time to go into plan. 

(Jennie’s POV)

      This is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for. But wait. You see movement behind a box. Someone is here. Could you jump them? You think so. Time for a change of plans. Thankfully there was fog which kept you hidden from the other agent. You were only about 3 feet away from them when suddenly WHAM! The agent back kicked you but you caught it and proceeded to twist their foot. cRunCh

 “AHHH” The agent let out a familiar cry and dropped down. This..this can’t be. You let go of their leg and saw that.. it was..

….

…

..I-it was Y/n.

 “Y-Y/N?!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I’M SO SORRY” You tried to whisper but couldn’t control your volume.

“Jennie?!  OH SWEET JISOOS, MY FOOT.. Wait what are you doing here?! You wouldn’t be here unless your…your a spy?! Why didn’t you tell me? But FOR FUCKS SAKE MY FOOT”

“….Y-yes I’ve been a spy for 3 and a half years now, I am with YGE..I couldn’t tell you for your own safety.. I did this for you and mom. To protect you guys. B-but now she’s gone and I- I-I’M SO SORRY Y/N I SHOULD HAVE PROTECTED YOU BETTER IM SUCH A TERRIBLE SISTER I- I CAN’- ” You broke down in tears, with Y/n comforting you “ I should-’ve done better..I-I can’t lose you..” You managed to stutter out

“Shhhh shhhhh it’s ok it’s not your fault.”

   It took a long time..but Y/n finally calmed you down and you can talk now behind some boxes.

“So… you’ve been SME for like a year? Man how stupid am I not to notice?”

“Yeah..I have.. but what are we gonna do now that we know we are on opposite teams?”

“ I’m not sure yet but I do know we have to keep this a secret and w- wait do you hear that? I hear footsteps.” You and Y/n turn around the box corner to see a petite but lean woman.

“Oh hey guys! I heard that shitty sob story and everything else. Pretty good 10/10 would see again.” She claps obnoxiously “I’ll be taking this now! Thank youuuu and JYP would like to send you his condolences, since he’ll be destroying both SM and YG. Bye guys!!!! :D.” 

She then disappeared into the night. Leaving you and Y/n speechless and frozen in shock…

( Sorry this took so long D: Hope Y’all enjoyed!!! <3)

-Admin Rubz