midnight oil (giselle)

[willow hanna dixon]

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willow dixon

Willow had grown to love the fame. The glamor, the attention.

At times the spotlight had been oppressive, putting her under intense scrutiny when she was at her weakest, her most vulnerable. The tabloids had been ruthless in the months after Sophie died, each one detailing Willow’s latest new low- the assault charge on the paparazzi at the funeral, the three short-lived rehab stints. But she’d gotten better, was making her comeback, and frankly had been at the top of the world, riding the high of Brand New Heart’s latest tour when it all nearly came crashing down again.

Vampirism was a bitch.

But Willow was handling it. At least she hoped so. Out of the force of sheer fucking will alone she’d yet to allow even a drop of human blood past her lips- not that she didn’t want it. It smelled so good, each beat of their fragile little hearts sending a little puff of it into the air, like a sample of an intoxicating perfume. But Willow refused to cause anyone the same hurt she had seen. Her hand instinctively traced one of the numerous scars on her chest, ripped jagged by teeth, fangs. The venom was caustic, had melted the flesh when it was still human, leaving a swirling cascade of scars each place she’d been struck. Willow shuddered, massaged her temples.

The rest of the band had already left the building after their specially arranged nighttime interview for an article in an upcoming issue of Witch Weekly, but Willow had waved them on ahead, she’d see them later, there was someone she needed to pay a visit to. She paced between the rows of empty desks on the main floor to the head office where the light was still on. Willow leaned against the frame of the open door, smirking at the mop of blonde hair bent over the desk teeming with papers. “Midnight oil again, Gigi?” Willow said with a smirk.

giselle olivia dixon ● 327 ● no notes

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[giselle olivia dixon]

true evil is trying to silence the truth

❝

Giselle had followed in her mother’s footsteps, taking to journalism. In contrast, but yet still completely aptly, her sister had also pursued the spotlight. Rather than being the one putting others into it, like her little sister did, Willow was in the spotlight. And lately, it hadn’t been for great reasons. The editor-in-chief had pulled quite a few strings to keep her sister’s name from being smeared on the pages of the very magazine that she ran.

Willow was handling something difficult, and Giselle had been trying to push Witch Weekly in a more credible direction anyways. Yet, she couldn’t do everything. Sometimes, she had to let the story get published. And it hurt her very heart to know that her work would be degrading her elder sister, the woman that had fiercely loved and protected her when they were little, but they were small sacrifices.

Thankfully and yet not so at the same time, the world was dealing with larger problems. The looming presence of Death and the Kindred consumed many people's attention, and therefore they took up more of her magazine space. Giselle sat at her desk, staring at the pages before her. The words, pictures, and glossy pages all stared back. Fashion pieces, news pieces, gossip pieces, political pieces, advertisements. All set for the issue due in January, with room for what would be inevitable last-minute shifts with the charged atmosphere surrounding them.

Midnight oil again, Gigi?

It was a bit startling to hear her sister’s voice, and the nickname that only Willow called her, but Giselle looked up with a smile. A small, almost sad smile. She had done so much, pushed so hard and created historic, monumental change. But the darkness kept creeping in, taking over.

“Always,” came her response with a sigh, “too much, arguably. But I can’t help it that I’ve got to try to keep your name off my pages whenever I can.” Giselle’s words were teasing, but they held that hint of truth. “I understand that Blake Heller is not my most…respected of employees - though I can’t fire him without concrete evidence - but did you have to punch him?”

willow hanna dixon ● it feels good to write for her again ● 358

MADE BY MIZO

[willow hanna dixon]

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willow dixon

Willow continued to lean against the doorframe, arms casually folded, painted lips wearing an easy smirk. Though she’d be hard pressed to admit it out loud, she was very proud of her little sister- even if neither of them were especially little anymore. Giselle had taken a driveling tabloid and made it into something resembling a legitimate publication. Of course, the gossip-happy populace wouldn’t keep buying issues if all the drivel were eliminated, but she was thankful for the lack of main headlines detailing the messes she got into.

“Always, too much, arguably. But I can’t help it that I’ve got to try to keep your name off my pages whenever I can.”

It struck her how much Giselle sounded like a world-weary old woman, even the tired look in her eyes suggesting the strain she was under. Nevertheless, Willow snorted, pushing herself off the doorframe and proceeding into Giselle’s office where she proceeded to plunk down in one of the chairs across from the editor’s desk and prop her feet on an unused corner, minding the stacks of papers everywhere. She’d always had a knack for making herself comfortable anywhere, whether invited or not. “Doing the lord’s work, Gigi,” Willow teased.

“I understand that Blake Heller is not my most…respected of employees - though I can’t fire him without concrete evidence - but did you have to punch him?”

Willow stiffened. She wasn’t exactly proud of it, but she wasn’t apologetic, either. “I warned him not to go there but he kept pushing,” Willow said, as if her actions were justifiable. The press had learned to not push her about Sophie, her dear friend’s sudden overdose was still far too painful for her to discuss, but Blake was either especially brass or especially stupid. She made a fist and kissed her knuckles. “He’s lucky I pulled it,” Willow added.

giselle olivia dixon ● 308 ● no notes

MADE BY VEL OF GS

[giselle olivia dixon]

true evil is trying to silence the truth

❝

It felt like they were mirror images of their childhood. Or at least, echoes of a mirror image. So much had changed between them, but one thing stayed the same. The Dixon sisters tried to protect each other. When Giselle was little, it was Willow looking out for her, with the same ferocity that she displayed in her personality to this day. Now, both sisters were grown women leading successful lives, and Gigi was looking after Willow.

Doing the lord’s work, Gigi.

Equal parts amused and exasperated, Giselle fixed her elder sister with a raised-eyebrow stare, but the corners of her mouth pulled up in a smirk. The truest smile she’d ever have, and only her sister could pull it from her. It was gone too fast, like the world was a joy-sucking void. Willow seemed to feel it, too, because she stiffened at the mention of Heller.

I warned him not to go there, but he kept pushing. He’s lucky I pulled it.

Giselle was silent for a moment, still staring contemplatively at her sister from across the desk. If there was anyone who knew better than to push Willow’s buttons, it was her. Slowly, she drew in a breath that she sighed out, leaning back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other.

“I know that it’s been difficult for you,” she said gently, softly. She loved Willow with the same intensity that her elder sister loved her in return, “and I know that healing isn’t something that’s easy to navigate, either, especially when you have this pressure on you constantly.” When their father had died, it was Willow who had stepped up to help with Giselle and their mother. Sometimes, it seemed, Giselle’s sister asked too much of herself.

“I’m not saying what he did was right. As your sister, I’m furious with him. But I can’t punish him as your sister. I’m his boss, too. It gets…messy.” Every word was chosen carefully, hopefully diplomatically as Giselle walked the line between her sister and her job. “I just want you to be careful, is all. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place here. There’s only so much I can do.”

willow hanna dixon ● no notes ● 367

MADE BY MIZO

[willow hanna dixon]

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willow dixon

There was that rare Gigi smile.

Getting one out of her little sister was often a task easier said than done, even as a child she’d been the same brand of oddly stoic, but Willow and her antics were usually enough to break through her defenses. Even now, both of them arguably grown, it was much the same. Willow managed a sly sort of smirk, but hers died just as quickly as Giselle’s had, and the sisters were suddenly in a pensive sort of silence as the editor pieced through her thoughts, deciding how she needed to proceed.

“I know that it’s been difficult for you,”

Her little sister spoke with the decorum of a diplomat, and not for the first time Willow found herself wondering when exactly that had happened. It should have been something for them to laugh over, for Willow to be teased about, but it seemed the levity in their relationship had taken a long walk off a short pier that a certain photographer should have. All business all the time. Willow released a small, barely audible sigh, not certain what exactly it was she was releasing with the gesture- she certainly didn’t feel any lighter afterward.

“...I just want you to be careful, is all. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place here. There’s only so much I can do.”

Willow’s hands, which had been cradling the back of her head interlaced in a further display of making herself comfortable, instead folded themselves over her stomach, a frown briefly gracing her painted lips. “I didn’t ask you to punish him, Gi,” said Willow, “hopefully a fat lip will be all the lesson he needs.” She doubted that was the case. People like Blake were incorrigible slimeballs. “And mind you, I am practically the patron saint of caution, hardly ever a toe out of line.” The last line said in obvious sarcasm, her bright green eyes alight with unvoiced laughter.

giselle olivia dixon ● 326 ● no notes

MADE BY VEL OF GS