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I HAVE READ ALL OF THIS MANGA THREE TIMES!!! I LOVE SCHOOL-LIVE! SO FUCKING MUCH BRO!! THIS IS MY COMFORT MANGA!! I think it was the first manga I had ever read as well >_<
i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!
part i, part ii, part iii
a/n: the well awaited end to this fic is here! enjoy :)
synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.
tags: alhaitham/reader ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing, miscommunication
It’s Valentine’s Day, and the most unusual thing to ever happen to you—happens.
A pristine white note falls out of your locker, and you never thought you would see the day. You’d assume, being a workaholic and being relegated to tasks (due to people pleasing tendencies you can’t seem to shake off), that you’d finish off the school year without falling victim to Valentine’s day sickeningly sweet confessions.
Please meet me in the homeroom lab after classes. – H
If it was any other day, you’d assume one of the teachers wrote you this note, and that you were going to be subjected to a ruthless talking-to. Yet, coincidentally, it’s that time of the year, and everyone else is getting notes like these too.
For the fun of it, you still decide to go where the note directs you. Mostly because you’re deathly curious to who this H person is. No expectations, of course.
When the dismissal bell rings, you quickly scramble out of your classroom, pointedly ignoring your friend’s confused call of your name. Leaving your bag and belongings behind. You’ll get back to her later—but now, the curiosity is killing you.
You navigate the sloppily decorated hallways; passing by lovestruck couples and through streamer paper decor of pinks, whites and reds. Cupid balloons and the overwhelmingly sweet scent of roses suffocate your senses.
The homeroom lab is at the end of the hallway, where all the decorations dwindle or are practically deflating with the lack of attention to detail—it irks you slightly, if this is a confession like you suspect, the surroundings could afford to be somewhat romantic. Not this cheap, unenthusiastic mess, it certainly wouldn’t be helping your case.
Your eyes lock onto one heart helium balloon, it drifts aimlessly across the floor—not enough to float up but not completely deflated. You glare at it, like trying to pop it with only your gaze, then to the door.
Steeling yourself, you take a breath then slide it open.
The last person you ever expect to be there, is there too.
“Alhaitham?” you ask, breathless and puzzled.
Was it him that sent you the note?
You shake that thought away, although you got your hopes up the tiniest bit, it’s probably unrelated to anything hearts themed. You’re pretty sure he’s been actively avoiding people confessing to him today. Maybe that’s why he hid in here, you muse.
“It’s me, yes,” he nods. “I assume you read my note?”
You laugh, shutting the homeroom lab door unceremoniously behind you. “That was you? Dude, you could’ve just told me, what’s with all the secrecy?”
“There’s something that I need to discuss with you.”
“Discuss with me,” you repeat, walking over to lean against the working table. Which, thank heavens, is pristinely clean. “Am I in trouble?”
“No,” he responds and you hum in faux relief. “Though there is something else.”
Alhaitham produces a sleek black chocolate box from seemingly nowhere—or maybe you hadn't seen him hold it—and holds it out to you.
“Sweet!” you grin, snatching the chocolates and examining the box. “This is some really good chocolate, Haitham. Who gave you this one?”
“No one,” he says. Alhaitham picks at his black painted nails—ones that you yourself painted a few weeks ago in his apartment. The polish is immaculate, almost looking freshly painted if it weren’t for the new nail growth starting underneath. “Those are completely from me, for you.”
You double take, taking a long lingering look at the gift. On the smack middle of the box, is the same type of note from earlier in your locker, but this has your name written in elegant cursive:
Happy Valentines. It writes, and you feel strange tingles travel down your spine. Not entirely unpleasant.
“You shouldn’t have,” your eyes widen. “I didn’t get anything for you, I never thought we were getting each other friendship chocolates!”
There’s a lengthy pause before you hear any reaction from him. Alhaitham makes a strangled noise from deep in his throat. “Friendship chocolates?”
He stresses your name, while massaging his temples. “...I wrote you that note, I waited in here for you and have the audacity to think what I gave you are friendship chocolates. Does that sound logical to you?”
“Of course,” you snort, putting down the chocolates to rest on the low table. “The only other reason I can think of would be because you like me, which I doubt—”
His lips flatten in unamusement. “So what if I do?”
“Wait, what?”
He inhales deeply, and you swear you see the slightest hints of pink on his ears that peek from underneath silver hair. The silence now is absolutely deafening, and the anticipation even more so. To you, the knowledge of his bashfulness makes the situation feel all the more real.
Alhaitham utters your name softly, like he’s pleading you to understand so that he needn’t repeat himself. Which he never does, the damn prideful man.
You’d make a teasing remark if you weren’t so frozen with nerves, the sound of your name from his lips is causing ticklish shivers up your spine. It sounds so intimate when he says it.
Like a secret, even. Although Alhaitham might be the most self-preserving and unambitious person you know, when it comes to the things that matter to him—he takes initiative right away.
“So you like me–” you breathe, the button up collar of your shirt feels all too tight all of a sudden, you tangle your fingers together and squeeze tightly. “Like, like like me?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you,” he sighs, low and long-suffering. “For three whole years.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Your eyes widen and you feel a low simmering heat spreading all over, even till your fingertips. You recall all the other times, past Valentine's days and recounting his strange behavior. All the dots start to connect together and you wonder how you never noticed. “What the hell.”
“So that one time last year when you were offering me your button—” you gasp. You remember, it’s a stupid highschool tradition, a boy would offer the second button of his uniform to a girl if he liked her. It’s the closest to the heart, but to you, it’s a thoughtless way to ruin perfectly good clothing. “Haitham, did you ask Kaveh for advice or something?”
“Matters like these are irrelevant to argue with him about,” he scoffs. Alhaitham folds his arms across his chest. “He ran off and came to the conclusion himself. Ever since then, he’s been bothering me with trying all types of confession tradition.”
Laughter starts to bubble out of you, disbelieving and flustered to the maximum level. “Dude, I basically friendzoned you and had no idea! You should’ve told me.”
His shoulders stiffen and he gives you such a disarmingly attractive look. And if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks the teensiest bit hopeful too. Right now, you feel like your heart is beating right out of your goddamn chest. The sound is so loud, the quickening thumping sound of your chest that you swear he might hear it too.
“...I see that now,” he says, his expression is exasperated—but so unbelievably soft. You feel yourself melting like butter under his gaze. “Though I am disappointed in your lacking ability to identify context clues.”
“Oh whatever,” you bump your shoulder against his, though you don’t move back away. The warmth of him is all consuming and comforting as hell, you could burrow yourself in him and never resurface, you think. He accepts your closeness with a strong arm wrapping behind you to hold you by the hand. Your stomach does somersaults in your stomach. “It’s all your fault. You’re an idiot for not telling it to me straight.”
“Does that mean you reciprocate?” he murmurs, leaning closer to whisper in your ear.
You pull back enough to take the box of chocolates, opening it and popping one in your mouth. “This chocolate is pretty good. Guess I’ll have to let you stick around for more.”
I like you too.
He nuzzles into you, leaving a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “I guess you do, don’t you?”
"Pare de procurar alguém que te complete, não existe ninguém com medidas tão perfeitas. Complete a si mesmo e procure alguém que te transborde."
Clarice Lispector
Inuvember Day 30: Fandom Day
I want to say, Thank You.
Thank you to Rumiko for making a masterpiece. It is a show that has gotten me through depressing times in life, and it’s continuing to do so now. I’m very thankful for it. 🙏🏼
I’m also super thankful to the Fandom, the people who share my love of dog demons, a handsome lord and a magical girl who fell through time.😌
Thank you all for taking the time to peek in on my journey with this art challenge. It was my very first and hopefully not my last. I feel very excited for the future and honing my craft. 🥰🙏🏼🖌✨💖✨
Inuvember Day 30: Fandom Day
I want to say, Thank You.
Thank you to Rumiko for making a masterpiece. It is a show that has gotten me through depressing times in life, and it’s continuing to do so now. I’m very thankful for it. 🙏🏼
I’m also super thankful to the Fandom, the people who share my love of dog demons, a handsome lord and a magical girl who fell through time.😌
Thank you all for taking the time to peek in on my journey with this art challenge. It was my very first and hopefully not my last. I feel very excited for the future and honing my craft. 🥰🙏🏼🖌✨💖✨
desolate (1)
— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you’re not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.
— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x reader
— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut
— word count: 2.7k Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)
“A hybrid?” You barely hold back a cough, the sandwich you were eating getting caught in your throat at your coworkers surprising words.
“Don’t sound so surprised Y/N, this isn’t the first time we’ve talked about this,” Jihyo rolls her eyes, pushing her water bottle closer to you as she notices you struggling. You quickly take a sip, the cool water soothing your irritated throat.
Keep reading
Out of the Woods
— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, slight smut — word count: 10.2K — warnings: light injury, nothing too bad! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it’s only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.
Part I / II / III
“Why are we here again?” You huff, waving your hands uselessly in the air to fend off the insistent mosquitos that seem to have chosen you as their next meal. “And don’t say it’s because I need–”
“It’s because you need some sunlight! Fresh air! You haven’t been out outside of your apartment in months,” Jihyo shoots you a look over her shoulder, one that’s equally as much worried, as it is exasperated. You bite down on your tongue to fend off any building remarks. Because well .. she’s right. The only time you’ve stepped outside your apartment recently was to either get groceries, or to run to the convenience store nearby when the craving for a late night snack became too much.
“It’s because I’m busy–”
“Busy my ass!” Jihyo interrupts with a humorless snort, “You finished writing your first draft weeks ago, Y/n. I understand that you get in one of your ‘moods’ when you write, but you can’t shut yourself away from the rest of the world whenever that happens. You’ll let your own life pass you by.”
You narrow your eyes at Jihyo’s use of air quotes, because frankly, it’s not just a mood, it’s inspiration. You know you have to take full advantage of it when you have it – that you have to devote your sole focus to the words spilling from your fingertips unless you want to lose them. You did that once. You had just finished writing a chapter when some old friends from university had called you out for some drinks. You easily accepted, happy to celebrate your progress and unwind a little bit. The problem however, reared its ugly head the day after. Because when you sat down in front of your computer, the empty document stared back at you like a stranger.
You couldn’t write. No sentences seemed to flow the way you wanted them too, and everything was just so dull. It took weeks – a whole month in fact – before it reappeared, and by that time you were left scrambling to complete the last half of your book in just one week. You felt like you aged ten years during those seven days, and you wowed to never let it happen again. So, your solution had been to eliminate any distractions. You stopped meeting up with friends, ignoring any calls or texts that weren’t from your publisher. You didn’t set foot outside your apartment unless your fridge was empty or a craving became too big, and even then, you barely acknowledged the outside world, too scared that even a friendly hello would somehow yank you out of your mindset.
So you hold you tongue, biting down at the soft flesh of your lower lip as Jihyo trudges ahead in front of you. No matter how much you want to retort back that she’s wrong – you can’t. Because she knows you better than you like to admit. You suppose being friends since you were six probably has something to do with that. Jihyo is the most understanding person you know when it comes to your moods, but you know that even she has her limits. That even she gets hurt when it takes you days to respond to her texts. And that’s the only reason you’re even out here, stumbling and tripping over rocks and loose roots in the middle of nowhere. Because you feel guilty, and because Jihyo deserves a better friend than what you’ve been to her for a while.
“Fine,” You grumble. “How long will it take until we’re there? We’ve been walking for hours.”
“We’ve been walking for thirty minutes Y/n,” Jihyo shakes her head. “But I think we’re pretty close now!”
Keep reading
Title: Kiss The Bartender
Author: manonlemelon
Summary:
Theo has a job as a bartender in a shot dare where some shots are linked to dares. Liam makes him sneak him Corey and Mason in. Dares happens and maybe one could finally lead to Liam and Theo admitting their feelings.
Tags: Rated T | 3.3k | Canon Future | Complete | Dares | Bartenders
A Peek Inside:
Drunk Liam was fun, he sang the song and made the most out of it managing to make it even more ridiculous than it should have been. And Theo had it all on video, which might be useful one f these days. The chimera couldn’t believe how incredibly adorable Liam looked while doing all those ridiculous dares, the smile never leaving his face despite initial protests. A happy Liam was truly Theo’s favorite thing to see.
Yeein' On That 'Haw Ch. 20-- A Cold Glass O' Brandy (Epilogue)
It had only been a few minutes. A few minutes, awkwardly sitting alone in a crowded bar. A few minutes not-so-subtly eavesdropping on various conversations nearby. A breakup there, a drunken pool game there. There was a football game going on, and that meant several middle-aged men gathered at the bar to watch it and be obnoxiously loud while doing so. For those few minutes, I was the most anxious person in the world.
What if something happened? What if he was hurt? What if he just… didn’t want to spend time with me? Oh, Phone-God, I really hope–
“‘Ey there, pardner,’ rang a voice from behind me. An invisible smile stretched across my phone-face as I turned around to greet him.
Norm looked… frazzled, to say the least. He still wore his usual astronaut suit coupled with his American flag hat, but he wore something new today. A silver badge over the part of the suit where his heart would be, the text declaring his brand new position as Sheriff of Dialtown. The badge beared a royal purple tint, surely the demand of the one who gave him the position.
But what really drew my attention was the stupid fucking clip-on tie that was attached to Norm’s collar. Phone-God, what a dumbass. How did he manage to marry before time-traveling? I couldn't stop my metaphorical smile from growing wider. “So you do know what this is, then,” I said conspiratorially.
I watched as Norm’s expression shifted from casual and attentive to somewhat bashful, his gaze flitting down to his shoes. “You bet I do.”
“Good. I didn’t want there to be a miscommunication,” I responded before patting the bar stool next to me. Once Norm was seated, I quickly called for the bartender to get us a round of drinks. He was an interesting fellow– very obviously affiliated with the Dialtown Mob, but I didn’t care at the moment.
Yeah, this was a date. After I had convinced Norm not to shoot Mayor Mingus, telling him that he would regret it, he seemed to have a sort of revelation. Negotiations ensued, and soon, he was Dialtown’s Sheriff. This felt more correct than what had happened before, and I understood why. I must have gotten the… good ending? I didn’t think this game had multiple endings. It seemed too rudimentary for that. But I suppose I wasn’t too surprised.
Either way, afterward, I think I did a pretty good job of nonchalantly and very implicitly asking Norm on a date. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I remembered how confused he looked. I was glad that he didn’t take it the wrong way, and he did understand what I was getting at.
The bar was probably a bad choice for a first date, especially on a Sunday, but neither of us seemed to mind. We were glad to be there, enjoying each other’s company, away from the threat of death for the time being. Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to deal with anything life-threatening for a while yet.
The bartender returned with our drinks with slightly concerning speed, only nodding politely before tending to other customers. I didn’t mind the lack of conversation, but now this meant that I had to talk to Norm. Despite that being why we were there, I couldn’t help but dread it.
“So…” I began, gaze flitting about the room as if I would find a conversation topic hidden in the various framed magazines hanging on the walls. “Why the clip-on tie?”
Norm lifted a hand to toy with the tie, lips curling into a small smile. “D’ya like it? I found it at th’–...” He trailed off before adding under his breath, “...th’ drug store.”
I snickered. “Drug store? I guess it’s… charming. But we’re at a bar, not a fancy restaurant. Why a tie?”
He paused, taking a long sip from his beer bottle to somewhat fill the awkward silence. “I s’pose I thought y’ were someone worth dressin’ up fer.”
That’s… so fucking sweet. I felt a strange warmth bloom in my chest, and my grip tightened on my own drink. I couldn’t resist messing with him a little bit. “Thought? Past tense?”
Norm’s expression gained a slightly mocking look to it. “I kinda lost respect when y’ got us kidnapped by a homeless man claimin’ t’ be God,” he joked.
That’s right. Despite me never making Norm angry after our encounter with Little Billy, meaning that we never separated, we still got snatched up by God and brought to Mingus. It didn’t change much in the end, though. We still wound up fighting Mingus, and we still lived. Which I’m grateful for.
“Yeah? Well, I’m glad you decided to get all gussied up for little old me,” I replied. It was an experimental joke, trying to see how he would respond, and if I should reel back the attitude.
Norm only scoffed lightheartedly and turned to look at me, face indifferent. “Y’know, y’don’t look too bad yerself.” I could tell he meant it, because I could feel his eyes on me, carefully picking out the details of what I had chosen to wear.
I took a sip of my drink to calm myself. At this rate, he was going to give me a damn heart attack before I finished it, and I’d be damned if I was going to let the fourteen bucks Norm spent on beer go down the drain because my silly self went into sudden cardiac arrest. I could only mutter out a half-assed “Thank you” before falling silent.
I hadn’t felt super nervous before Norm got here, but now that he was here, all I could feel was borderline crippling nerves. This was literally a date, and neither of us had been on one of those in years. Suffice it to say I could tell I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
The rest of the date proceeded rather smoothly, with us engaging in slightly awkward banter and what I think was flirting while we finished our drinks. At one point, I dropped my drink on the floor and Norm had to convince me not to blow my wallet drinking myself into oblivion to forget what I had done. Later, I distinctly recall Norm yelling at the football game that was on, and when I told him it was just a game, he said something along the lines of it being “the only true American sport.” When I pointed out that football was technically from England, he proceeded to look the most devastated I’ve seen him look since we met.
I hadn’t noticed what time it was until Norm pointed out that the sun had begun to set. I pursed my lips and checked my watch. It had been hours. How hadn’t I noticed? It was strange– normally I was always on top of what time it was and what I was supposed to be doing at that time. But… I guess Norm just occupied too much of my brain for me to continue doing that.
I allowed Norm to lead me out, the boisterous sounds of laughter and conversation dulling as we exited the bar. The weather was finally transitioning from chilly to temperate, and the March humidity was creeping into the air. A gap in a cluster of nearby structures allowed the setting sun to cast its warm glow upon us, and I couldn’t help but shiver as the warmth settled over my previously-cold skin.
I had almost forgotten I was with Norm until his presence beside me became more intense as he stepped closer and silently offered his arm. I took it, trying to use my body language to show him how grateful I was. I was still getting the hang of this ‘communicate nonverbally, but you don’t have a face’ thing. Oh, well. I was kind of here forever now, so I had an eternity to get used to it. And I had an eternity to figure out how to communicate with Norm, specifically. That was, unless things went awry somehow. I shook my head back and forth, hearing the familiar rattling of components inside the mostly-empty shell. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. I had company, and handsome company at that.
Speaking of whom, I felt Norm’s eyes burning into me as we began to walk. I didn’t know where we were going, and I’m not convinced he did either. We just wanted an excuse to not leave each other’s company. So we walked. I looked up to meet his eyes, and he didn’t look away. In fact, I saw him sigh lightly.
…how did I manage to turn this man into such a complete and utter simpleton?
“Norm, you know this is still a first date, right?” I began, sounding more cheeky than I meant to. “This isn’t the right time to be looking at me with hearts in your eyes.”
Norm tensed, immediately breaking eye contact and staring at the ground ahead of us instead. His expression hardened. “I wasn’t.” He paused for a moment before adding, a bit less seriously, “I don’t recall y’ever sayin’ this was a date.”
I looked at him like he was the dumbest motherfucker in the world. At times, I thought he was. When he caught how I was looking at him, he chuckled. “Kiddin’, kiddin’. Don’t freak out on me.”
I frowned as best as I could without a face and looked down at the ground. We walked for a while longer in comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon. Soon enough, the streetlights turned on. Normally, I would have felt unsafe walking around in the city at night. But now, I had my own space cowboy bodyguard who certainly had several concealed firearms on his person. I felt safe. Blissful, even.
Norm and I came to a stop under one of the streetlights. I lifted my head and spotted several moths flitting around the fluorescent yellow bulb. I liked moths. I looked back at Norm, catching him staring again. I scoffed, turning to face him completely. “Why do you keep looking at me like that? It’s not like my head is particularly special. It’s a phone. Like everyone else here.”
A somewhat awkward silence descended upon us. I probably should have developed a six sense for these things by now. Man, imagine if I could detect if it was about to get quiet. That would be pretty rad.
Norm broke the silence, his expression somehow less embarrassed. “Well…” he began, voice low and uncertain. “T’ be honest, I was tryin’ t’ figure out how t’ kiss someone who doesn’t ‘ave lips. Or a face, fer that matter.”
My heart fluttered. He wasn’t the only one wondering that. This time, there were no glitches, nothing to give me an actual face. But I supposed there were ways. “Um… well, if you’re that keen on ending this date like that, then I suppose you can just… do it.” I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could, trying to ignore the anticipation spreading throughout my chest. “It’s not like I can kiss back, but… it’s something, right?” My voice was softer than I would have liked, but my vocal cords seemed incapable of producing a sound louder than that.
Without much more preamble, Norm lifted a hand to his head and removed his hat, cupping it to his chest. With the other hand, he delicately grasped the underside of his paper bag and lifted it to expose his face. I forgot to act surprised. I had seen his face before, but… not here. Not in this timeline. He seemed slightly shocked at my lack of reaction, but he ignored it. It seemed like he didn’t want to wait any longer.
So he didn’t. He closed the distance between us and rested his one free hand in the crook of my neck. I instinctively relaxed into his touch, despite the inherent roughness of his skin; the callouses decorating his palms. And… well, yeah, he kissed me. I can’t really explain it any less bluntly, but I’ll certainly try.
It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. Of course, it wasn’t. I didn’t have lips, or a tongue, or teeth, or any of the… necessary(?) parts for kissing someone. But I had a phone-face, and that was all Norm needed. It was like kissing someone on the cheek, but… more intimate. The sensation was dulled, but I could certainly feel it, and… I could even taste it; the faint taste of tobacco and alcohol. I felt myself begin to commit each detail of his lips to my memory. Each crack, each rough patch of skin, the gentle dip of his cupid’s bow. I hadn’t realized that my arms had found his neck and carefully draped over his shoulders for some semblance of support, just so I didn’t fall over like an idiot.
All in all, I’d say it was pretty damn cool.
And it wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. But since that first time we kissed, before I was kicked out of the machine, I had been longing for this feeling again. The feeling of being this close to him, breathing in the very essence of him, feeling his body heat radiating so close to mine.
It was over as soon as it began, Norm pulling away with a barely audible intake of breath. “That was… odd,” he said, sounding breathless, likely for more reasons than one.
…Ah, right. While it kind of felt like a kiss to me, it likely just felt like pressing his lips up against plastic to him. I felt embarrassment rush through my mind, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t feel the need to.
I’m sure Norm continued talking, but I’m pretty sure my brain had shut down, so I wasn’t entirely hearing him, let alone comprehending what he was saying. But what I did catch him saying was “Yer really somethin’ special, pardner.”
It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I had him now, and I wasn’t ever going to let him go.
I never thought I would be this content. Especially not with a space cowboy from another universe, where I have a phone for a head and can’t even kiss him back. Not after what we had been through, whether it be exile, scrutiny, rats in a sewer, the corrupt mayor, even Little Billy. I thought that the constant panic would last forever. But there, standing under the dim streetlight with Norm, relishing in the feeling of his lips, I felt like the world completely vanished around me. All that existed was him.
We may have been paper-thin sprites in a paper-thin world. But our depth was visible to one another. And that was all that we needed.
Hello lovely people I have finished miku
Punks, Poets, Parents - Ch. 13: Looking For You (I Was)
Prev - Ch. 13: Looking For You (I Was) - Master Post - [ A03 ]
Final Chapter! This has been an adventure <3. Fic rated M, this chapter rated T - CW: Mild language (for Remus, anyway), referenced alcoholism, briefly suspected/implied domestic violence, but actually it's mostly fluff - WC: 2596
Thursday, June 21, 1984
“Hey, boys, Bennie wants to know if you want a cold round before we open the doors…” Hilly stuck his head into the sweltering green room. One of the A/C vents had sputtered out that afternoon, and the late June heat had turned the green room and one of the bathrooms on that side of the club into virtual saunas.
Roman stood next to Virgil in the far corner and waved at them both with a small folding fan to supplement the oscillating fan working hard to cool the trio. Virgil sat on the counter, dabbing at his melting make-up and leaning his head against Roman’s shoulder. Remus watched as the couple exchanged a weighted look.
Remus spoke up first, “You know, Hilly, I could really go for some ice water.”
Virgil shot a smile at Remus, nodding, “Yeah, Hilly, water is good, man. Thanks.”
Hilly waited for a small nod from Roman before giving them a quick salute and ducking out of the room. “Three ice waters coming up!”
After he left, Remus returned his attention to his bass, plucking out a little riff from their opening song, the quiet slap of the steel strings against the fingerboard and the motor of the fan the only sounds in the room. He pretended not to notice when Virgil nudged Roman with his shoulder, looking significantly at him. Roman looked down at the floor. Virgil nudged him again, this time reaching behind him and pressing gently on the small of his back and looking again at Remus.
Roman nodded and stepped a little closer to his brother. “Hey, uh, thanks—” he jerked his head toward the door where Hilly had just exited.
Remus nodded, looking up from his bass, fingers still moving across the strings.
“So, uh, you should know that, um…” Roman turned quickly to look at Virgil, who had slid off the counter and moved closer to the brothers. He reached out to hold Roman’s hand. “I started going to AA.” Remus’ hands stilled on his bass.
“You… you were both right.” Roman swallowed hard and looked down at his feet. “I was… I was turning into Dad.”
Remus’s eyes widened and he whipped his head over to Virgil, peering closely at his face. Virgil shook his head and smiled tightly. Roman caught the look and he waved his free hand, shaking his head. “No, no. Fuck, no, I wasn’t that bad.” His unspoken ‘yet’ hung between the three of them in the thick, stuffy air. Roman raised Virgil’s hand to his lips and gently kissed his fingers. He turned back to his brother. “Losing my temper with you was bad enough.”
Remus shrugged, “We’ve come to blows before, Ro Bro.”
Shaking his head, Roman muttered, “That wasn’t a fight, Re, that was… that was something else.”
Remus stared at Roman for a long while. Finally, he cracked a smile. “Is it bad if I say I’m proud of you?”
Roman blushed and scoffed lightly, a broad smile spreading across his face. He gently kicked at Remus’ boot. “Ew, gross, what, next you’re gonna say you love me or something?”
Laughing, Remus muttered, “Ew, no. Of course not.” Suddenly stepping forward, Remus wrapped his arms around his brother, squeezing tightly. “I love you, Ro Bro,” he whispered in his ear.
“I love you too, Punk,” Roman whispered back.
Virgil playfully hip-checked Remus and took his spot as he kissed Roman, discreetly wiping a tear from his cheek. Remus laughed, picking up his bass. “Hey, where’s my sugar?”
Hilly’s laughing voice boomed from the doorway, “I’d wager he’s back at your apartment, watching your foster son.”
They laughed a little too loudly as Remus took the tray of water glasses from Hilly, offering them to Virgil and Roman. Raising his glass, Virgil shrugged, “Is he wrong?”
Remus rubbed the back of his neck, pretending the flush on his cheeks was just from the heat.
“You boys ready?” Hilly checked his watch then lit a cigarette.
Remus looked at his bandmates, meeting first Virgil’s, then Roman’s eyes. “Ready,” he said, grinning at Hilly.
---
Patton could smell Logan’s cooking the moment he opened the door to their apartment. “Oh, Lo! Are you making meatloaf?” He grinned and his shoulders danced as he quickly locked the door behind himself and toed off his shoes.
“Perhaps…” Logan’s amused voice lilted from the kitchen. He laughed, “If you come in here, you can test the mashed potatoes.”
“I hope I caught you before you added too much pepper this time….” Patton giggled as he joined his brother in front of the stove and retrieved a small spoon from the utensil drawer, bouncing in anticipation. He scooped a bit on the edge of his spoon and blew on it before popping it in his mouth with a grin. “Oh, man, Lo, it’s good!”
After dropping his spoon in the sink, Patton washed his hands. “So what’s the occasion? This is pretty elaborate for a Monday night for you.”
Continuing to whisk the potatoes, Logan reached over to turn off the heat on the asparagus. “It has been a while since our schedules have been sufficiently aligned to have dinner together.” Patton winced as he looked up at his brother. Logan quickly patted his shoulder and smiled, “I am not condemning you for having a social life, Patton.” He shrugged, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. “Recently, neither of us have been home in the evenings as much as we used to.”
“It’s nice… you know… to get to talk to each other a bit.”
Each of the brothers looked away. Logan covered the mashed potatoes and put on oven mitts as Patton dried his hands and pulled two plates from the cabinet. “Well, yes, ah, Pat… There is something serious I wished to speak with you about.”
Patton chewed at his lip. “Me, too, actually.”
“Oh?” Logan looked carefully at Patton’s expression. “Is everything all right?”
“Oh, yeah, nothing to worry about.” Patton winced again. “Sorry. I’ve, uh, been a frequent bearer of bad news, huh?” Logan shrugged lightly as Patton shook his head again. “No, it’s nothing bad at all. Um, I wanted to ask if, well… See Barb needs a place to stay. She’s been subletting since she moved out of her dorm at Columbia and…”
Logan blinked in surprise as he set down trivets on the table. “And you would like her to move in here?”
“She would share my room—I can fit another bed in there.” Patton waved his hands quickly when Logan raised his eyebrow. “Oh, not like that. Barb knows I don’t like… you know….”
“Well, I—”
“Please just think about it, Lo. I—”
“Allow me to finish, please.” Logan put a slice of meatloaf on Patton's plate as he spoke. “Last weekend, Remus signed a lease on the apartment downstairs. It will provide them more space and he won’t need to sleep on the couch anymore.”
Logan fidgeted with his napkin. “I was going to tell you that he and I have been talking about… me moving in, as well.”
“Oh, well Barb wouldn't need…” Patton’s brow furrowed until he caught Logan’s eyebrow raise and small smile. “Oh...” Patton grinned. “Oh, Lo!” He leapt out of his seat to hug his brother, knocking both of their eyeglasses askew. “I’m really happy for you. For both of you.” Patton’s smile grew. “For all of you, actually.”
Logan tilted his head, watching Patton’s rapidly morphing facial expression.
“I… I’m sorry for not trusting your motivations more, Logan.” Patton traced little lines through his mashed potatoes and wouldn’t meet his brother’s eyes. “The night that… The night I brought Jay home to Remus’… I finally saw what you did. What you were trying to tell me for so long.”
Logan rested his hand on Patton’s and he finally looked up. Patton smiled at his brother. “He really loves Jay. And Jay… Jay loves both of you.”
---
Logan unlocked the front door and Jay rushed inside, pushing the door open and holding it. Jay kicked off his shoes and slid them against the wall with his foot.
Hanging his keys on a hook next to the door, Logan smiled and nodded at the boy once the door closed. “Thank you for holding the door, Jay."
Jay smiled brightly at the praise, making the sign for 'you're welcome.'
"Here is your bag,” Logan added as he handed him the tote emblazoned with the School is Cool at P.S. 63 - Summer 1984 logo. “Will you put it away in your room?”
Nodding, he raced back to his bedroom. He returned a moment later with his blinking Fourth of July kaleidoscope, peering at Logan through the lens. Logan chuckled. “Does that help you see farther?” Jay giggled and shook his head as he followed him to the kitchen.
His face lit up when he saw Remus sitting at the kitchen table, a few envelopes scattered in front of him. Jay threw himself at his side, hugging him tightly.
Remus turned in his seat to return Jay’s hug. He kissed the side of his head. “Oh, hi, you two. I—I didn’t hear you come in.”
After a moment, Jay’s rumbling stomach grew too much to ignore and he opened the refrigerator and took out the milk and a pint of strawberries. Logan’s brow furrowed and he moved to Remus’ side and placed one hand on his shoulder, carding his other through his hair. “Love? Are you all right?” he murmured before he put his arm around Remus' shoulders and looked down at the envelope he held in shaking hands. Logan read the return address on the envelope and smiled. “Is that what I think it is?”
They both stared at the light green envelope in Remus’ hands, the bold letters of the return address a beacon: New York City Office of Vital Records.
Remus sucked in a breath and looked up at Logan with wide eyes, then over at Jay as he carefully poured milk into a cup. “I… I think so.”
Logan moved another chair next to Remus’. He sat down and Jay climbed into his lap. “Well, the envelope is addressed to you.” He grinned when Remus looked at him. “You should open it.”
Slowly and perhaps a bit hesitantly, Remus opened the envelope. Jay's eyes darted between Remus' forehead wrinkled with worry and Logan's broad grin and dancing eyes.
Envelope opened, Remus pulled out the single piece of paper inside. He unfolded the heavy, blue-bordered stock and held it with trembling hands. It was a newly certified copy of Jay's birth certificate, and in the box labeled 'Father' was heavy black print stating simply Puños, Remus Daniel.
“I can’t believe it’s real.” Remus whispered. “I mean…." He swallowed hard, staring at the page. “Is it real?”
Logan carefully lifted Remus’ chin to look at him and Jay. “Love, in every way that’s important, you are his father.” He reached down and tapped the embossed certificate in Remus’ hands. “Now you have the piece of paper that backs you up and tells the world that you are Jay’s dad.”
Still sitting on Logan’s lap, Jay leaned his head against Remus’ shoulder, hugged his arm and whispered, “Dad.”
---
Friday, August 20, 2010 - Cleveland, OH, USA
“You were right,” Remus murmured next to Logan’s ear as they stood in front of the large glass display case on the first level of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Logan wrapped his arms around Remus, and hummed as he kissed his cheek. “Well, now you’re just pandering to my fondness for being told that I’m right.”
Remus laughed, “Oh, don’t start that now….” He let his hands rest on top of Logan’s and let out a slow, relaxed breath. “I was going to say you were right that this was a good time of year to visit the museum.”
“Well, of course,” Logan grinned, nudging his glasses back into place. “School started last week in the plurality of Ohio public school districts, but it is too early in the year for major field trips. That significantly reduces local visitor counts.” Remus twisted his head and watched Logan dive into his explanation with a growing grin. “The typical humid Midwest summer weather ensures that this region is not a prime tourist destination in August. However, Lake Erie is quite beautiful this time of year and I booked us a trip on….”
His voice trailed off as he finally registered Remus’ fond smile. “And… I have already explained all of this more times than you can count, haven’t I?”
Pressing a kiss against his mouth, Remus whispered, “And I’ll listen happily every time you do.”
“Dad, Pop!” Jay’s voice rang out over the excited din of the rest of the crowd. The pair turned and Remus held Logan’s hand as they followed the sound of his voice. They looked out over the mezzanine railing, peering down to the level below them. Jay grinned and waved both hands above his head. Once he caught their attention, he pointed in another direction. He cupped his mouth with both hands, calling up to them, “I think I found it!”
Remus and Logan’s eyes followed where Jay pointed. Remus’ jaw dropped. “Holy fuck, it’s really here….”
Logan grinned and wrapped an arm around his waist, “Shall we get closer, Love?” Remus nodded silently. “We’ll be right down, Jay!” Logan called back to their son before they carefully wove their way through the crowds of tourists to join the small huddle of visitors posing for pictures underneath CBGB’s—second—awning.
Reunited, the trio stood in quiet awe as they looked up at the dingy, weather-worn awning. Remus pointed up to a corner in the underside, “Holy shit, does that really say ‘Virgil?’”
“Language!” Logan muttered as his eyes flicked reflexively to Jay.
Jay laughed. “Pops, I think it’s okay if I hear Dad cursing once I’m past thirty. Uncle Pat's rubbing off on you.”
“Yeah, besides, what was that you muttered when that schmuck in the pickup truck cut you off outside the airport parking lot?”
Logan pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at both of them. “January 31, 1987. Jay’s tenth birthday party. In front of four impressionable young nine and ten year olds, an objectionable phrase was uttered.” Remus and Jay exchanged a glance as they fought and failed to hold back their laughter. Logan put on his most serious disciplinarian face and continued, “And I quote, ‘If this motherfu—”
Remus pressed forward and kissed Logan before he could finish the word.
“Are you trying to silence me with affection, Mr. Puños?”
“Sorry, Teach.” Remus’ grin revealed the depth of his remorselessness.
“Careful, Dad, he’ll make you call him Principal Sanders with that attitude.” Logan scoffed, his attempt to feign outrage marred by the giant grin spread across his face and the laugh he couldn’t quite suppress.
Jay stood close to them and stared up to where Remus had pointed earlier. “You know, I think it does say Virgil.” He turned to Remus and Logan. “Do you think Uncle Vee actually wrote that?”
Logan stared closely and shook his head. “Look closer….” He pointed at a spot slightly obscured by the metal frame that supported the frayed fabric awning. “There’s a heart.”
“Ro, you vandal,” Remus laughed. “I gotta send them a picture.”
“They are thirteen hours ahead of us.” Logan checked his watch. “It is two o’clock in the morning local time.”
Jay nodded. “Right about when their Friday night concerts end. You might catch them before they head to bed.”
Remus snapped a picture just as a museum volunteer approached them. Remus lowered his phone, anticipating a stern lecture about flash photography. Instead, the volunteer smiled, “Can I take a picture of the three of you?”
“That would be very kind, thank you,” Logan answered and Remus passed over his phone. Jay moved to one side of Remus and Logan slipped his arm around his back on the other. Remus pulled them both close and smiled.
---
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Take me home. (1)
Summary: Yelena Belova had been a Widow ever since she could remember, and Katya was just another mission. Until she wasn’t.
Or.
What if it was Yelena who left someone behind?
____☆____
A/N: This was originally supposed to be a oneshot but they're just too silly.
Tags: Swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, cold Yelena
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
(Complete)
Link to fic on Ao3
Yelena skulks in the shadows of gloomy alleyways while waiting for her target to arrive walking her usual route.
For an ex Red Room spy she was far too hasty to fall into a routine. Well she wasn’t going to be an ‘ex’ Red Room spy for much longer.
Yelena had been sent out with orders to capture this ‘Rio Torrez’ and bring her back to where she belonged.
This girl had truly believed she would be able to live an ordinary life after escaping, finding roomates to settle down with and attending the local collage while taking hits on the side to make money.
To be fair she had gotten considerably far away, probably the furthest Yelena had ever seen a Widow get. But now it was time for her to return, willingly or unwillingly.
____☆____
After what feels like hours off schedule the girl starts walking down the street, turning into the alleyway which was a shortcut to her home.
“Awfully late to be walking out by yourself, hm?” Yelena steps out of the shadows and can immediately notice the girl’s shift in demeanour.
“Not interested.” She replies blunty, almost shoving past Yelena as she continues her journey.
“That’s no way to treat one of your superiours, Katya.” The use of her mother tongue has the girl’s attention and she turns back around, trying to mask her nerves.
“I go by Rio now.”
“It doesn’t matter, Rio, Katya, Agent 00687. I’m here to bring you back.”
“I’d rather die than go back there.” Katya’s tone is even and serious.
It’s not a very uncommon response for those Yelena captures, so it doesn’t have the desired effect.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with already."
Yelena produces a syringe with a cloudy liquide inside and rapidly approaches Katya, she retaliates by flicking out a sizeable knife.
Yelena can easily get the upper hand on the younger girl, she’s an experienced fighter but Yelena is older and faster.
She throws Katya against the wall, instantly picking up on when she cradles her right arm.
Yelena decides to take advantage of the girl’s presumed injury and lands a firm kick on it, which would most likely leave a lasting effect on an arm that wasn’t even previously affected.
It ends with Yelena pinning the girl down on the unforgiving and unsanitary street. Katya squirms and attempts to roll Yelena off of her, but it’s all in vain.
“I thought this would be a little more difficult, I must admit.” Yelena remarks, finally managing to get the girl still enough to inject her with the sedative safely.
“You’re just lucky I took a fall last week.”
”Excuses, excuses.” Yelena chides before sliding the needle into Katya’s neck, not getting back off of her until she completely stops moving.
____☆____
Katya stumbles in and out of consicousness for the next few hours, able to grasp four things:
She’s in a van, her hands and feet are bound very tightly, and she has no idea where she currently is or how long she’s been out.
An annoyingly familiar voice calls out to her from behind the caged front seat.
“You awake back there?”
Katya groans in response, trying every tactic to wake herself back up but the sedative is too strong for her to fend off more than a few seconds.
Eventually the back doors of the van open up, although Katya can’t even be sure that it’s the same one from before.
“We’ve arrived, sit up I need to untie you.”
“What? No, you can’t bring me back here!” The young girl’s voice lacks the confidence it did before, stripped down to the desperate plea of a traumatised teenager, never once met by sympathy.
“I’m just following orders. But you know that this is where you belong. Sit up.” Yelena’s voice is no longer playful, detaching herself to avoid the raw emotions of the situation as she had many times before.
Katya slowly pulls herself up to a sitting position, trying to ignore the nausea that came with it, and Yelena easily cuts through the rope she was bound with.
“Alright let’s go. You already aren’t on good terms with the general, best not to keep him waiting any longer.”
Katya’s heart feels as though it stops the moment she utters his name.
The General could decide who lived or died with a simple wave of his arm, he controlled everything, even Katya’s superiors who displayed a flicker of fear everytime he entered to observe training.
Yelena looses her patience and drags the younger girl out of the van herself, bringing her to the extration point.
Katya desperately scans the surroundings for any kind of cover or even weapon and her eyes land on a nearby forest.
She waits until Yelena is distracted taking out her phone and sends a kick directly to her liver, causing her to double over in pain and giving her enough time to make it to the treeline.
Take me home. (2)
Summary: Katya runs from Yelena
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Tags: Drowning, swearing, violence
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
(Complete)
Katya breathes a sigh of relief as she bursts into the forest, the terrain almost easier for her to navigate than solid ground.
The other Widow isn’t far behind, she can hear her breaking twigs and occassionally stumbling, but still closing distance rapidly.
Katya’s eyes scan her surroundings, desperately looking for a way to lose her pursuer. They soon land on a muddy hill which she slides down, barely having time to move out of the way before Yelena begins gliding down it too.
“You can’t go for much longer! You’re only making this worse for yourself!” Yelena yells. She was angry and tired, and now in pain thanks to this girl.
Suddenly the sound of rushing water nears and Katya doesn’t slow, only picking up in speed if anything.
Yelena slows herself down. Obviously she could swim, if you couldn’t then you were thrown in over and over again until you taught yourself, but rapids like these were almost impossible to get through.
“You’ll drown!”
Katya slips into the river, completely dissapearing from Yelena’s view in the dark, roaring river.
“Dammit.”
It takes at least two minutes for Katya to resurface, a lot further away from a now extremely worked up Yelena.
She scrambles onto the oposite river bank, giving the older girl a smug look. Which is quickly replaced with an expression of minor alarm, and annoyance when she sees her plunge in after a few moments of hesitation.
Katya almost follows her first instinct: Run. It’s only when she sees her head bobbing up and down with her gasping for air desperately each time that she begins contemplating.
Perhaps before she had liberated herself she would have left her behind. But she’d learned things since she left, even though it had been hard to break away from her ways, and she wasn’t about to break her streak.
Katya sighs deeeply and jumps back into the river, hooking her arm around a coughing and spluttering Yelena who definitely did not know how to be rescued from drowning, onto the same river bank.
“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” she asks, panting as they lay on the bank catching their breaths.
“Well I got across the river, didn’t I?” Yelena retorts, obviously embarrassed at having to be rescued, let alone by a younger Widow.
“I could’ve let you drown, you know.”
“Maybe you should have. Now up.” Yelena dusts herself off the best she can and removes the gun from her holster, shaking out the waterlogged weapon.
“Hm. Don’t think that’s gonna work.”
“No shit. Let’s go.”
Katya stands herself, patting herself down out of habit before remembering Yelena obviously must have searched her.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Yelena laughs. “Oh, don’t be silly, Katya.”
“No.” She folds her arms.
“Ugh! Come on already, or I’ll just drag you all the way there.”
Katya stares her down, almost daring her to do something.
Yelena doesn’t think twice before throwing a blow directly to her face with the now useless gun. Katya stumbles back, clutching her bleeding nose. Both are surprised it didn’t knock her out cold.
“OW!”
Yelena grabs her by the cuff of her shirt and begins dragging her in the direction they came, her shoes slipping so much on the mud she can’t stop the older girl from tugging her along.
When they reach solid ground she wrenches free, not hesitating to kick Yelena directly in the stomach, the same spot as last time. Slightly expecting it, the blonde retaliates by kicking her in the knee.
Katya lands in the grass on her bottom, cradling her knee and the moment she tries to get back up Yelena kicks the other knee. Now trying to run is useless.
“Dammit. Fuck you!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Yelena kneels down to Katya’s level and makes eye contact with her. “Now, you either let me take you back or freeze to death out here. I’ve heard there are bears.” She adds before reaching her hand out which Katya reluctantly takes, wobbling slightly at first but quickly straightening up.
“I really should’ve left you in that damned river.” She mutters under her breath.
“You shut your little mouth.”
“You ruined everything!”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“Dreykov doesn’t even give a shit about us! How are you even loyal to him?".
“Look, I’m not sure what your American vacation taught you about the power of friendship or whatever, but it’s time to come to terms with your reality, Katya.”
“But it doesn’t have to be- if I escaped, surely others could too.”
“If I weren’t under orders to take you back I would’ve shot you for even saying that.”
Katya huffs and goes quiet, the cold settling in her bones as they continue back through the forest.
____☆____
The familiar building looms over the both of the girls.
“Y’know, if you still wanted to change your mind at the last minute my apartment is still an option.” She suggests weakly, her teeth chattering.
“Nice try but I’m following my orders. And you’d probably catch hypothermia on the way.”
“Whatever.”
As soon as they step inside a pair of guards approach them.
“Katya Ostankova?”
“Yes, sir.”
The guard takes her shoulder roughly. She feels the older girl’s grip tighten on her before she’s pulled away.
“Go back to your block, Agent Belova.” The other guard says, barely acknowledging her before they lead Katya down foreign a dark hallway.
____☆____
The guard shoves Katya into what seems like a miniuature medical room, except a lot darker and with a lot more sharp tools displayed in a clear locked case.
Her eyes study the horrific sights of the room, looking for any way to escape, but there are no windows and the door is made of solid metal.
Although, a file on one of the desks catches her attention. When she opens it she’s greeted with graphic images of surgery, but the thing that disturbs her most is the name ‘Widowmaker project’.
Experiments were definitely not uncommon, but this seemed like it had been going on since before she was even born.
Her reading is interrupted by the sound of the iron door opening and none other than Alina Smirnova standing in the doorway with a wicked grin.
Alina was known as an urban legend among the junior widows - a sadistic woman who only found pleasure in the despair of others - it was rumoured that she even perfomed surgeries on conscious patients (although that was most likely untrue)
And now she was directly in front of her.
“I see you’ve been reading up, Katya.” The woman grins and shuts the door behind her.
Take me home. (3)
Summary: The procedure
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Tags: Human experimentation, mind control, graphic violence
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
(Complete)
Katya backs away as the woman approaches her, knowing there is nothing else she can do.
“Well, I was going to explain the procedure to you but you know enough now, take a seat my dear.” Alina purs.
The young girl knows that the moment she looses consciousness she is in danger. Even in the presence of Widows her age it’s a risk, but this woman truly is cruel.
“I won’t.”
“I’m sure you don’t want me to force you, or tell the general, hm?”
Katya had first thought she was going to be sent to the man himself and will admit she was slightly relived to arrive in a torture chamber rather than his office, but she couldn’t just let whatever was going to be done happen.
“I… I don’t care. I’m not letting you come near me.”
“Oh, my child, fear drips from your voice. Just take a seat and we can be civil.”
Katya considers her offer. Taking an easy way out, even if it was a long death, would be better than having to live as a Widow. But she had people who would miss her. A home, school, a job- even if it wasn’t morally correct -she had a life.
The doctor takes Katya’s silence as defiance and strides towards her, grabbing her wrist and attempting to drag her to the operating table.
Katya doesn’t have much fight left in her with the jetlag and continuous running and fighting with Yelena, but lashes out, knocking over a nearby table which opens a drawer with a scalpel in it.
Both of the Widows’ eyes are instantly on the metal clatter and Katya attempts to crawl to it, making it to arm’s reach before her hand is crushed under Alina’s shoe.
The girl pulls her fractured hand back and the woman picks the scalpel up, tossing it out of reach and looks down at her.
“You have such fire in you, it will be useful once we can channel it correctly.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“This is bigger than the both of us, girl. If you are a success we will be years ahead of schedule, the impact will be huge.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“You will see, child.” With that the woman takes a similar cloudy liquid filled syringe from her lab coat pocket and stabs Katya’s arm.
Katya wakes up again, much to her surprise, and can feel that all of her limbs are intact since they are all screaming at her in pain.
Her vision is blurry with a migrane but she can still make out a dark slender figure standing in the corner of her room.
Alina approaches with a smile and shines a bright light in Katya’s eyes then nods, pulling it away.
“I am delighted to inform you the procedure was a success, how do you feel, my dear?” Alina questions.
“It hurts.”
“Yes, your brain is a bit confused with it’s signals right now but that should clear soon. I meant your mind, how are you feeling?”
Katya had never once been asked that until her roomate Nia was woken up by her having a nightmare and made it a point to ask her it every single day.
“I’m…” It’s only now that Katya realises she feels… off. She’s had to remove herself from the present to do unpleasant things before but this was different, she wasn’t even there anymore. “What did you do?”
“I have made you the perfect agent, my star. You had no need for all of those emotions, they’re the reason you thought you would try and escape, the reason you thought you didn’t have to come back home.”
Katya stares at her blankly, barely able to process everything she just said with the anesthesia making her mind so fuzzy
“Hm. Still not here just yet, not to worry. All you have to understand is you will be loyal to us from now on, yes?”
“Yes.” Her voice is monotone, she can’t even recognise it as her own.
“Good, very good. Let me get you a little something to wake you up.”
The woman rifles through a drawer before finding a small shot of adrenaline, injecting the girl with it.
She inhales sharply and clenches her fists, any pain dissolving. Her heart rate increases rapily and then slows down again, leaving her head clearer and more alert.
“Much better. We already did some scans and tests while you were asleep so there is only one left.”
“What is it?” Katya sits up, expecting to be overcome with nausea but isn’t.
“I want you to kill the two girls in room 0064.”
Murder isn’t exactly something new for Katya. She’s had to follow orders just like the other Widows, she remembers each of the seven times graphically, which is fairly low compared to the others.
She knows room 0064, it’s her own quarters with her classmates to them.
But something isn’t right. Her skin doesn’t prickle from her temperature raising at the orders, her stomach doesn’t even turn a little.
“Yes, Doctor.” She replies and leaves the room, walking down halls she had memorised over the years.
____☆____
Katya opens the door and the lights are off, the girls both fast asleep in their beds until lights seeps in.
“I thought they killed you.” Oksana says, rubbing her eyes. Stella doesn’t say anything but nods at Katya and turns back over. She always valued sleep.
“I thought they would too.”
“Did you see the general?”
“No. I saw Doctor Smirnova.”
Oksana’s surprise is evident and prompts for Katya to come closer.
“What did she do?” She asks, filled with curiosity and a little concern. Even Stella turns towards the pair, now interested in the conversation.
“I don’t fully know yet. I need to go back soon.”
Katya doesn’t allow Oksana to answer her before she lunges at her, taking the pair by surprise. Doctor Smirnova didn’t give her any weapons so this was going to be even more challenging.
Stella is up in seconds, not fast enough to stop Katya from knocking Oksana out, and pins her to the ground, clamping her hands around Katya’s neck.
Katya digs her fingernails into the other girl’s hands, having to draw blood before the girl falters just long enough for her to break free. She manages to get on her feet before her opponent and kicks her in the face, still coughing and trying to catch her breath.
She looks around desperately for anything she can utilise to kill her until she notices a chest of drawers.
Katya easily pulls one of the drawers out, emptying out it’s mostly empty products and once again approaching Stella who is slowly standing, her face bloody. When she sees what Katya has in her hand her eyes widen with horror.
“What is wrong with you?!”
Katya doesn’t answer her, only swinging her arm to gain momentum. She smashes the corner against the girl’s face, making her stagger backwards.
She doesn’t stop, bringing the drawer down on the girl’s head repeatedly until she’s unrecognisable and Katya sits down beside her, layered with blood and whatever else came off of her.
Katya looks at the second target still out cold on the hardwood floor and steps towards her, picking up a pillow on her way.
She crouches over her and covers her face completely with the pillow, only holding it down firmer when she begins to struggle.
Katya stands once again, closing the door behind her when she leaves.
Something is definitely wrong. She feels like a husk, she doesn’t feel guilty or angry, she doesn’t feel anything.
Katya ignores the many looks she gets from passing guards and Madames on the way back to Doctor Smirnova and opens the door.
The woman’s lips curl into a smile when she sees the girl’s blood-soaked clothes and expressionless face.
“I take it your mission was a success?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Well done, my star. I just have to do a few more scans and then I can give you the details for your next mission.”
“Next mission?”
“Yes, to kill Yelena Belova.”
“Yelena Belova? I though she was loyal- she was the one who brought me back here after escaping just the other... day. Katya pauses. “How long was I out for?”
“Only three months, slightly shorter than expected.”
Katya is shocked not because she felt like she had only been out for a few hours maybe, but because they had bothered to waste energy on keeping her alive for so long.
She nods in understanding and Doctor Smirnova takes her into another room to run some tests.
A quote about learning to live your own life rather than someone else's from "You Are a Badass".
I'm actually done! Stitching is complete, now it's time for cleaning and finishing so it can be up just in time for Halloween 🎃