#and i was saying to her nobody would get mad. just politely correct you and move on or whatever. unless u purposely do it over and over.. : | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kenmolly · 2 years

Note

Hello, I would like to make an order. Main dish: (mac & cheese); Beverage: (cappuccino), (Fyodor Dostoevsky); Personality: (I'm a very shy and unconfident person, but my family see me as helpful and generous person). Thank you.

welcome welcome! here is your meal, dear customer. please enjoy <3

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H0W Y0U M3T ?!!?1

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"speak louder, damn it!! we can't hear you, shy girl! you're not talking to some ants here" you clenched harder onto your script, both embarrassed and mad. that one annoying person just decides to cut you off while you're presenting your project; don't you just hate it? all you want to do now is tell them to shut up and punch them in the face, but you just can't do it. being shy is a huge disadvantage.

"s-sorry.." was all you could force out from your mouth as you continue to present your project with your voice louder this time. your voice is shaky while you do so. you're not even confident that your project is perfect, so how could you be confident if your presentation is good enough?

once you're done with the presentation, you only simply bowed and ran back to your place and stayed quiet, head hung low while playing around with your fingers and stationaries. hours felt like days, but the lunch bell finally rang and you're finally able to get some peace and quiet at your favorite spot.

you went to the back of the school where nobody actually goes to have lunch. rumors have it that it's haunted, but its decorations are very neat and pretty, and it doesn't seem to be haunted at all. the lightning and breeze are all perfect.

you ate your lunch while planning out some things you could help for your parents today. 'oh, right. the book i borrowed, I should finish reading it as soon as possible before the due date' you reached out for your bag, but a figure beside it made you flinch.

"oH MY- wait.. you're.. from my class, right? what was your name again.. uhm.." the male turns to you, his expression was as calm as ever. he closed the book he was reading.

"the name's fyodor. i actually came here to.. make friends with you. i talked with that guy from class earlier as well. the one who cut you off while you were presenting." ah, so it was fyodor. you were right after all. just.. unconfident.

"r-right, fyodor. thank you so much, it's nice to meet you! you said you wanted to be friends with.. me?" fyodor hums in response, taking a sip from his milk carton.

"well then.. sure..! i would love to be friends with you!"

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H0W 1S Y0UR R3LAS1ONSHIP ?!!?1

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a quiet and chill relationship!

i feel like most of the time, the both of you would either be in each other's arms or working on your own work while enjoying one another's company

fyodor would always bring you your favorite drinks and snacks to your place before lunch!

he finds it really cute if you're the blushy type, he'll do those things that would easily make you blush very often!

i don't think he'd reveal your relationship even if he has friends (or not)

he likes everything to only be known by himself and/or you since he's not an extrovert

he's very polite, yes, but very scary to those people who dares to make fun of you in any way ☝

you brought him back to your house and he met your mother? let me tell you, your mother would already be planning for your wedding

she loves him so much

every since that day, your mother would always invite fyodor to your house!!

she'll tell him about you, about how glad she is to have you as her daughter, about how helpful you always are at home, etc etc

let's just say.. fyodor falls in love with you even more after that

he'll definitely help around the house whenever he visits!

i also feel like the both of you would always talk about interesting subjects that are kind of related to studies

you're unconfident about something? just ask fyodor about it!

he will never laugh, and I mean NEVER.

he'll give you an honest opinion or correct you so you could be confident

just trust him with it, he's super smart after all ;)

you would definitely study together!!

either in your dorms, at the library, at the park, the cafe, you name it!

wherever you are, he'll be there unless he's occupied with something more important

head pats and little kisses <3

he will definitely give you them randomly while studying as a reward, or just to show you some affection

but sometimes, he could be very busy with something else and not have the time to be with you for days, or even weeks

please, just be patient with him!

he's trying his hardest to get the jobs done as soon as possible

would definitely appreciate it if you don't disturb him while he's working on that important stuff

once he's done, he'll thank you and reward you with anything you want

gifts, kisses, hugs, cuddles, anything! just name it and you'll receive <3

[ make another order/make an order. ]

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume –which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

#mother miranda x oc #mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #creative writing #commission #thank you so much :')

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fabricated-misslieness · 3 years

Text

pairing: prince xiao x servant gn reader

req: no | wc: 1.62k | royal au

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 (you are here) | part 5

taglist: @hanniejji

a/n: low graphic pic

The following days at the palace are tense. Nobody wants to speak about Rex Lapis’s death, in fear that it will spike a new argument. Servants that rush and bustle around the halls can barely even stare at each other, for the siblings’ fights are so harsh and loud that their horrible words still ring in their ears.

Before, as the servants dined together, they spread hearsay. Now the dining hall is silent, with the only sound being cutlery and plates. Each loud clunk of cutlery against porcelain is piercing in their ears.

Rex Lapis upheld a certain peace. With his death, there was anticipation around the corner of every action. Would the kingdom collapse? Who would take the spot of monarch?

The Adepti’s meeting with the Liyue Qixing was only in a few days. If the reunion failed to find a new ruler, doom would surely initiate.

But that was not a servant’s burden. For now, as one of the most trusted, you were to speak with the funeral parlor to begin preparations for the Rite of Parting.

It had been many years since the last Rite of Parting took place, a parting wish for one of the Adepti. Each one was directed and prepared by the Wangsheng Funeral parlor, the only funeral parlor in the kingdom. Their current director was infamous for her humorous spirit, rare for solemn occasions, but however they may behave, the Rite of Parting will not be a matter to be laughed at.

Their consultant was also famous, even in his short term of work. He was known to be calm, reserved, polite, and extremely knowledgeable. Though his reputation did not prepare you to see your supposedly dead king again.

He smiles politely at you from his office chair while you gape at him. Gathering your manners, you greet him with a bow, “Pleasure to be doing business with you, mr. Zhongli. I’m-”

“(y/n), yes I know. Take a seat.”

He may not look like Rex Lapis and he may not have the exact same mannerisms, but this was your king. You were sure of it.

“Rex-”

“Zhongli.” He corrects. “Not many people have seen through my disguise, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

You gulp, nodding. “I’m here to discuss the Rite of Parting.”

He cuts you off for the last time, “I know, and that is taken care of. Here is the contract, it has all the information you need. All you need is to take it to the Adepti and they will discuss it, but I have a feeling there’s information that you want.”

“I… yes, there is.” You gulp back the shock. This man in front of you is your dead king, but he’s going by the name of Zhongli. “Wha… why?”

“I’ve always been disconnected from my citizens. Despite this, they depend on me far too much.” He speaks of conflicting matters, yet he speaks of them so calmly and simply, even busying himself with paperwork as he does. “They create a false image of me, and they praise those ideologies. There are many things that they say I do, many ways that they say I behave, and amplified many qualities that I have always shown to be something greater. I was flawed, yet they thought of me as perfect. The people no longer followed a king, instead, they followed the pseudo-god of their imaginations.”

A frown paints his lips, and with a sip of tea, he smiles once more. “I am a regular man just like any other. I have desires and I have flaws and I deserve to take action on them. Do you understand now?”

“Yes.” It was true that the king was not perfect, just as Yuheng Keqing proposed. No person was perfect, and the same went for every monarch of each kingdom.

“You have more questions?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Who should be the new monarch?”

He smiles, in a cheeky way that you’d never seen on the king, “That’s making it too easy for you. Nevertheless, a question is a question. Who has governed Liyue for just as long as I have? Who upholds law and who helps the citizens? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the royal family.”

“The Liyue Qixing?”

“Precisely.” He clears his throat, “But like I said. I’m a regular man. All prophecies of mine are meant to be seen as suggestions, rather than definitive word.”

“Now, you must have something for me in return. I have given plenty of answers, so it’s time you give me some too. Why do you stay with the royal family? I formed this contract with you to become our servant. Now that Rex Lapis is dead, there’s no need to stay. Why are you still serving them?” That was a question you did not have a prepared response to, but one answer shone brightly in your mind.

“Xiao. He… I care for him, and he does for me.” It was simple, yet complicated. Simple, yet it showed all the feelings you had towards the prince.

“He was always attached to you.” Zhongli states as a matter of factly, in a way that brings warmth to your cheeks. “Just as the citizens of Liyue depended on me, he depended on you.” He chuckles, “Minus the fake ideologies part, of course.”

“Well,” He nudges the Rite of Parting documents your way, “I believe that is all. Good day, (y/n).”

“Good day, your majes-” He smiles, eyes crinkling as if he’s seeing an old friend.

“Have a nice day, Zhongli.”

“Welcome home.” Another thing you didn’t expect that day was Xiao waiting for you at the door of the palace, not to mention that he considered the place to be your home. “Where have you been?”

Ever since you comforted him, he was warmer with you. The loner prince who you knew nothing about suddenly became the person you knew the most about. You hadn’t noticed just how much he liked you until your meeting with Zhongli. “Gathering Rite of Parting documents. Where are the Adepti?”

Xiao griances, most likely remembering the horrible arguments from a few days prior. “Doing their own things. Can the meeting… wait for later? I don’t want to have a reenactment of what happened the other day at the moment.”

“Sure.” You nod. “I just need to drop off these papers with another servant. Is there anything you need afterwards?”

“I… have something to show you.” He looks at anything from you, arms behind his back. He seems nervous yet excited at the same time.

“Okay, I’ll be at your room as soon as I can.”

It seemed Xiao had a lot to show you. You had no idea what he had to show off, and you did not think it entailed leaving the city.

The prince walked ahead of you, leading the way. He didn’t dare look you in the eyes, and anything he said was short and to the point. Nevertheless, he did not seem to have a rude intention. He was merely nervous, and you know that because he’s showing the most emotion you’ve ever seen him express.

Xiao stops and sits on a rock platform once you reach your destination, the hill just about overlooking the kingdom’s harbor. “I sneak off to this place sometimes to look at the view. It clears my head.”

“Even after I tuck you into bed?” You ask, taking a seat next to him.

“I- yes.” He seems ashamed to admit it. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be?” You give up on seeking his gaze, taking in the sight of the harbor instead. “I can see why you come here, the view is beautiful.”

It’s lucky that you’re no longer looking at him, because if you locked eyes while he glanced your way, the prince would’ve flushed red. “This wasn’t the only thing I wanted to bring you up here for.” Your beauty under the slowly setting sky of Liyue was magnificent, it almost made him trip over his words.

“Well, what do you have to say?” As the blue sky turns into hues of warm colors -reds, oranges, yellows- it blends in with the warmth of Liyue. The beauty of it has you captured, but Xiao has seen it plenty of times.

“I like you.”

You turn to him to speak, which makes him immediately snap his head away from you. “Xiao, I-” Before you can assure him that you reciprocate his feelings, he cuts you off.

“I know a relationship would only burden you and distract you from your duties. I know that perhaps you wouldn’t have time for me. But… could we at least try?”

The warmth on his cheeks is forgotten when you laugh, which makes Xiao snap his head at you. Clearly he wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction from you. “Xiao, I was going to say I liked you back.”

“Oh.” He claps a hand over the lower half of his face in an attempt to hide his hot blush. Color stands out between and above his fingers.

Your laugh almost humiliates him more. “You won’t burden me, Xiao! You’d cause more joy than anything.”

He nods slowly, “Okay.”

“Okay.” You repeat. “Do you.. want to kiss?”

Xiao moves his hand just a bit, uncovering one of his cheeks, an invitation to kiss him there. He’s most likely never kissed anybody on the lips, so you’d have to save that for later.

Though a mere kiss on the cheek seems to overwhelm him. As much as you want to, you don’t tease him about it.

“Come on, let’s head back, my prince. It’s getting dark.”

My prince… no more ‘your highness’ from now on.

#xiao x reader #xiao x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin royal au #🌺-m.fluff

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metvmorqhoses · 3 years

Note

i have a headcannon that voldemort never really “punishes” bella when she does something wrong, but his punishments to other death eaters are way way worse & so she’s obligated to act as if vold has given her a worse punishment than he actually has. not that she does a lot of things wrong as his “most faithful” though. i’m talking about the occasional slip up like the department of mysteries thing. had that been someone else, he probably would’ve harmed them more, let alone wouldn’t save then from some witch statue holding them down.

this is very true, anon. so true, in fact, i actually consider this much more a canon fact than mere speculation.

sorry if this is very long, but for every thousand of anti-bellamort idiots there must be a very precise bellamort’s defense attorney lol

correct me if i am wrong, but to my knowledge not once in the books a physical punishment coming from voldemort is ever mentioned in relation to bellatrix - and even if, let's be real, after his "rebirth" she became involved in literally the majority of the most crucial errors, the worst happenings ever, that ultimately brought to no less than his very downfall.

and yet, still, she came out of it all not only unscathed, but treated very specially.

even to a lazy reader, this should at least come across as peculiar.

let’s take the primary example of what i am saying, the battle of the department of mysteries.

just freed from azkaban and after being showered in honors and recognition, the first pivotal mission bellatrix was entrusted with was a damning fiasco.

true, it was not entirely her fault, lucius was in fact “in charge” of it, but let’s be real, do you really think voldemort sent his literal general with that malfoy dandy, his pupil, his most trusted and powerful lieutenant, just for company? just as a henchman? as i have always interpreted it, bellatrix was there to keep an eye on lucius, whose silver tongue was famously more apt to political plotting than to field missions.

voldemort wasn’t trusting lucius with the prophecy that had literally already meant almost death to him once, it would have been madness to. you can say anything about voldemort, but certainly not that he was an idiot.

i actually don’t think he ever trusted lucius at all. lucius had renounced him after his fall and didn’t manage to paint the fact as pragmatically as snape did, the cowardly aftertaste of his betrayal blatant and thoroughly disgusting on voldemort’s tongue. lucius’ status, family name, relations and wealth were just very useful for the movement and likely the only things that kept him in the high ranks of the regime (or alive at all) even before the fiasco, along with his marriage to bellatrix’s sister.

i am positive voldemort was in fact trusting bella to see the prophecy retrieved.

he probably didn’t officially put her in charge because she was still recovering from azkaban and therefore not completely stable or/and already with child (even if i tend to exclude the latter option, since she would have been still entirely too weak for a pregnancy to even take).

still, she was the one with the highest military rank there, not to mention the highest degree of closeness to voldemort, so you can bet she was the one that bore also the highest degree of moral obligation in that delicate situation. and she failed.

knowing voldemort, you would have expected to see killing curses flying left and right. had bellatrix been literally anyone else, she could have easily returned home to a murdered family and a pending death penalty.

instead, you see a voldemort that walks into the ministry of magic. you see a voldemort that, even already knowing the prophecy lost forever, renounces his every advantage and reveals himself once again to the wizarding world, moreover having to fight at the same time his very nemesis (nemesis that the mission should have helped him understand better and therefore defeat), dumbledore (the greatest wizard alive besides him) and soon the entirety of the aurors of britain.

what was exactly the reason that compelled him to enter such a nest of vipers, when he had been unwilling to do so in secrecy and surely in a highest degree of safety before and to retrieve the prophecy himself? to kill harry potter?

the very reason of the mission tells us he wasn’t sure about what to do with his potter dilemma and had therefore decided to have a more cautious, academical approach regarding the matter. he wanted to know the whole prophecy before trying again. he was frustrated and puzzled about harry’s absurd invincibility and insolent luck. do you really think he had decided to go for the hardest battle of his life unprepared and with dumbledore present of all people (whom he didn’t even directly kill afterwards) and possibly hundreds more on the way?

had voldemort suddenly turned from cold strategist to hotheaded kamikaze?

the only plausible answer is that voldemort had purposefully entered the ministry, risking capture and possibly his very life (or at least his newly created body, since at this point the horcruxes are still intact and a secret) and not knowing what exactly was there waiting for him, as a rather valiant rescue attempt and quite an unexpected one too.

bellatrix herself just moments before had laughed at the absurdity of the possibility of voldemort ever entering the place in response to harry’s questioning:

“Get it himself?” shrieked Bellatrix on a cackle of mad laughter. “The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?”

bellatrix herself believed it an impossible and ludicrous thought and yet, less than half an hour later and her life in jeopardy, there voldemort surely appeared.

you could speculate he wanted to save his most valuable, just freed death eaters and then couldn’t, but there’s no evidence of it in the chapter whatsoever. the only evidence points out to the fact he was focused only on saving bellatrix.

this is in fact what lucius tells his hunting party while harry and co are trying to escape the ambush:

Harry put his ear close to the door to listen and heard Lucius Malfoy roar: “Leave Nott, leave him, I say, the Dark Lord will not care for Nott’s injuries as much as losing that prophecy — Jugson, come back here, we need to organize! We’ll split into pairs and search, and don’t forget, be gentle with Potter until we’ve got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary — Bellatrix, Rodolphus, you take the left, Crabbe, Rabastan, go right — Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead — Macnair and Avery, through here — Rookwood, over there — Mulciber, come with me!”

so, la crème de la crème of his high ranks is there and everyone is positive the only thing that voldemort would care about is the prophecy, even above captures and fatalities.

rabastan and rodolphus are also there and yet he doesn’t go for them.

he appeared when harry told bellatrix the prophecy was gone, specifically when bellatrix began to have a manic fit because of it, alone in the ministry’s atrium with harry.

“Potter, I am going to give you one chance!” shouted Bellatrix. “Give me the prophecy — roll it out toward me now — and I may spare your life!”

“Well, you’re going to have to kill me, because it’s gone!” Harry roared — and as he shouted it, pain seared across his forehead. His scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury that was quite unconnected with his own rage.

“And he knows!” said Harry with a mad laugh to match Bellatrix’s own. “Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it’s gone! He’s not going to be happy with you, is he?”

“What? What do you mean?” she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.

“The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort’ll say about that, then?”

His scar seared and burned. . . . The pain of it was making his eyes stream. . . .

“LIAR!” she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. “YOU’VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME — Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY !”

Harry laughed again because he knew it would incense her, the pain building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst. He waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him. “Nothing there!” he shouted. “Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that —”

“No!” she screamed. “It isn’t true, you’re lying — MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED — DO NOT PUNISH ME —”

“Don’t waste your breath!” yelled Harry, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his scar, now more terrible than ever.

“He can’t hear you from here!”

“Can’t I, Potter?” said a high, cold voice.

specifically, he appears behind bella when she starts to maniacally invoke him, almost as if they had a special mean of communication with each other even from considerable distance.

(here bella is afraid voldemort would punish her and i find the manner of it very interesting, we will come back to it later on)

voldemort was obviously furious the prophecy was lost, but again why risking his own life on top of it? was he perhaps concerned of bella’s mental state now that she knew she had failed and therefore her ability to flee/fight his very nemesis, dumbledore and the aurors?

normally, we would have expected voldemort to stay away and deal with the surviving death eaters later, leaving them to their deserved destiny (as he did with literally everyone else who was there).

instead we have:

“So you smashed my prophecy?” said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes. “No, Bella, he is not lying. . . . I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind. . . . Months of preparation, months of effort . . . and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again. . . .”

“Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!” sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort’s feet as he paced slowly nearer.

“Master, you should know —”

“Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?”

“But Master — he is here — he is below —”

Voldemort paid no attention.

“I have nothing more to say to you, Potter,” he said quietly. “You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!”

even when she literally has just lost his one mean to achieve his every goal of a lifetime, she is “bella”. even when we would expect him to tear her to pieces then and there, he had come to stand between her and harry.

the only reprimand she receives is a scowling “be quiet bella, i shall deal with you in a moment”, as you would speak in public with someone who is very close to you and you are very mad at, who shouldn’t let that closeness slip in public, especially now that she’s making you risk a lot to save her sorry ass.

i find this scene very comic, on top of everything else. voldemort is clearly so done and yet there he is, come to save his sobbing mess nevertheless.

the scene proceeds with dumbledore’s arrival, the duel and bellatrix trapped under the statue. during the duel and just after having trapped bella, we see a really curious exchange:

“You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?” called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. “Above such brutality, are you?”

“We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom,”

Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk toward Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. “Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit —”

“There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!” snarled Voldemort.

“You are quite wrong,” said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks.

(...)

"Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness —”

what is this fate “worse than death”, these “other ways to destroy a man” that dumbledore wants for voldemort? we know how it all ended - with voldemort’s literal death, his very disintegration (after bellatrix’s very own). what was this all about then? this one i’ll let you decide for yourself. it’s certainly peculiar, considered the context.

voldemort doesn’t respond to this, he in fact seems very provoked and sends a killing curse at him.

at the end of the duel he disappears and everyone thinks he fled, bellatrix included, who cries out his name sobbing from under the statue.

he in fact, at that, goes straight to possess harry.

And then Harry’s scar burst open. He knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance —

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature’s began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape — And when the creature spoke, it used Harry’s mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move. . . .

“Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . .” Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again. . . .

“If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . .”

Let the pain stop, thought Harry.

Let him kill us. . . . End it, Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . .

And as Harry’s heart filled with emotion, the creature’s coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood. . . .

And there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been (...)

“...where’s Voldemort, where — who are all these — what’s —”

The Atrium was full of people. The floor was reflecting emerald- green flames that had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall, and a stream of witches and wizards was emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward.

“He was there!” shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped moments before. “I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear, it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!”

“I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!”

this passage is ever so interesting to me, because dumbledore’s words appear to have somehow made voldemort “emotional”. they provoked him somehow. he didn’t laugh at them. he linked them to the worst pain imaginable and almost killed harry with it, posing a philosophical dilemma - if such pain is worse than death, if my life is worse than death, why don’t you put this boy out of his misery?

there’s no doubt in my mind “that pain” is voldemort’s pain. a pain intrinsically love-related. voldemort’s problems to accept/understand/feel love are the crux of the saga, his every villainy and pain. it’s so interesting that in this whole scene the train of events and thought have ultimately reached this topic (even in the movie love is mentioned here, harry literally fights the possession telling him he shall never have it).

voldemort was furious with bellatrix, feared for his plans and life and went to save her anyway. he is enraged beyond belief but puts himself between her and harry and dumbledore. while they duel, dumbledore traps bellatrix and lectures him about “other ways to destroy a man” and “worse things than death”. he absolutely hits a nerve. voldemort completely feels what he’s meaning, so much he wants to retaliate and mercilessly - he never wants to be forced to face such things, such emotions. i don’t think he’s trying to kill harry there, he’s trying to prove a point, to make them both understand how it feels to be him, how the whole concept of love feels to him. and the matter is addressed in a scene entirely built around bellatrix. in fact, finally he then grabs her, leaving everyone else to fend for themselves, and flees. he effectively saves her and her only.

to me this whole passage is directly linked to the famous scream at bellatrix’s death, and to the way the events leading to voldemort’s own death unfolded. that scream might very well be that “fate worse than death”. jkr loves parallels and to me this one is perhaps the most beautiful of the series.

this really proves, in my opinion, at what depth their relationship stands, absurdly perhaps much more abysmal on voldemort’s part than on bella’s.

anyways, i took the time to analyze this particular episode because it’s emblematic of their relationship and his way to deal with her disasters.

lucius would carry on his face the signs of this fiasco literally for the rest of the entire series. the malfoys would fall from grace because of it, probably alive only because of bella’s intercession. half of the death eaters who were present at the ministry would end up back in azkaban.

voldemort would end up defeated, furious and destined to die.

bellatrix would come out of it not only physically unscathed, but with voldemort’s child.

even when she again loses the trio at malfoy’s manor (along with the sword), everyone ends up physically tortured but her. she says she fears for her life if voldemort was to know she lost the sword, but it seems more a metaphor than an actual possibility. when the cup is stolen from her vault, he makes her leave the room before murdering everyone in it. she’s not present at dumbledore’s assasination, and that’s because she wasn’t disposable.

i don’t think physical punishments are involved in their relationship, or if they are they are very rare, and i don’t think voldemort’s reactions to her transgressions/wrongdoings are in tune with the way he reacts to everyone else’s.

bella can more than anyone with him and never really loses this status of utter closeness, no matter what she does.

this obviously doesn’t mean that voldemort is a saint with her or that he doesn’t occasionally punish her. this doesn’t mean she isn’t rightfully afraid of him.

yet, the main way i see him actually hurting bella is psychological torture and silent treatment.

and here we come back at what bella was sobbing at the ministry, her desperate “MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED — DO NOT PUNISH ME —”.

i don’t think a warrior, a general, a woman who remarkably survived 14 years at azkaban, would ever react this way to the mere fear of physical punishment, no matter how cruciatus curses hurt. i think she would have taken it as stoically as possible. thought she deserved it, even.

no, voldemort’s punishments must be unbearable to her, impossible to even fathom, because they involve falling from his graces, from the closeness she lives for. voldemort can serve bellatrix the cold, silent, disappointed treatment of a mentor and a lover, and have bellatrix literally rotting away because of it.

this is truly the worst thing he can do to her and the thing that had her sobbing and having a fit before harry at the mere idea of it.

this is also somehow confirmed when hermione, transformed in bellatrix, meets a death eater (i don’t remember who he was) before entering the gringott. he wasn’t surprised to see bella, well, alive and physically well, he was surprised to see her out of malfoy manor, where she was supposed to be confined.

so yes, definitely the way voldemort deals with bellatrix regarding punishments is special. everything regarding his way of treating bellatrix is, to be honest.

their relationship is written in such a subtle, beautifully twisted way. i adore it. the only problem is that because of it virtually no one ever connects the dots.

#i'm sorry for yet another essay #it just... happened lol #bellamort is based on hints and symbols so here i am in the dead of night psychoanalysing my client to the bone lol #bellamort #lord voldemort #bellatrix black #bellatrix lestrange #asks/replies #hp #one and one thousand stories lis told #anon

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Hope on Board

Chapter 10 – Welcome to the Mad House

Note: In the last chapter, a few people were wondering about Dick knowing Marinette was there and I realized I cut out the pre-fight strategizing session that explained it. Signal was the first to respond because it was a daytime event and he was already on patrol. He called Red Hood in as backup because he knew Jason was free. Dick just showed up without warning because he knew Marinette had an appointment there earlier and was no longer responding to texts or phone calls and Dick got scared and came to check.

Chapter 1 Chapter 9

“And you’re sure I’m dressed appropriately?” Marinette asked again. He’d lost count of what number that was by now.

“Marinette I promise you. You’re dressed perfectly. You look amazing and not to make you pout, but nobody is going to care what you’re wearing and it’s too late to change now anyway,” Dick assured her again, this time on the steps walking up to the Wayne Manor front doors.

Marinette looked scandalized. “Of course they’re going to care! What people wear affects how people think about them. I mean, each person reacts differently to the same outfit, but it has an effect. And, technically, I’m going to dinner with two of my bosses, which just adds extra pressure on top of meeting my boyfriend’s family.” She couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she said boyfriend despite the spiral she was going into, which was making her physically sick on top of mentally sick. “And Alfred! What if he thinks I’m not dressed properly for what he planned? I don’t want to insult Alfred!”

Dick laughed hard enough to grab his stomach in pain. Marinette pouted at him. “Alfred will only care if you are intentionally trying to be offensive. That’s going to be true for almost all of them.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “But you’re dressed perfectly, I promise you. It’s nice but not too nice. The perfect meeting the family dress. But they’re going to care more about the person than the dress and they are going to love the person.”

He ran his hands up and down her arms at a soothing pace before pulling her against him and placing a chaste kiss on her lips. She smiled warmly at him and nodded, her lips set in a determined line. “Let’s do this. We got this.”

Dick chuckled and reached for the door. Before he could reach the handle, the door opened up in front of him. “Master Dick and you must be Miss. Dupain-Cheng. Please come in.” Alfred gave them a warm smile.

“Thank you so much. You must be M. Pennyworth.”

“Indeed I am. Please call me Alfred. Everyone else in the family does.” He smiled kindly at her. “It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

“Thank you. Please just Marinette, Alfred. It is a pleasure to meet you. Dick talks about you all the time.” She reached up to give him la bise. She pulled away to offer him the box she had been carrying. “I brought some macarons for you and the rest of the family.”

He took the box gratefully. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“The grey ones are Earl Grey flavored, if you wanted to get to it before the rest of the family.” She handed over the box with a wink.

“Very thoughtful, indeed.” He nodded again with a secretive smile.

“The rest of the family in the living room?” Dick asked.

“They are, Master Dick. Awaiting Miss Marinette quite anxiously, I believe. I’m just finishing dinner. It should just be a few minutes.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” Dick and Marinette chimed at the same time. Alfred nodded again before disappearing toward the kitchen. Dick smiled to her and guided her toward the living room. “And now, into the mad house.” He took a deep breath as he opened the door to the living room. The room went silent for a few seconds before the noise level ramped up again with everyone welcoming them at the same time. “One at a time,” Bruce boomed loud enough to get everyone’s attention.

Dick nodded to him before going into introductions. “You already know Tim,” he started indicating Tim, who was already at Marinette’s side. Marinette nodded and gave Tim a hug. “That is Damian,” he pointed to the surly looking teen sitting on his own in an armchair. He nodded curtly to her so she returned the gesture. “And Jason.” He indicated a large man leaning against a console table. They waved politely to each other. “Duke,” he nodded toward the young man that just jumped up to shake her hand. “Barbara,” he moved out of the way so Barbara could roll closer to Marinette to say Hi. “Cass,” Cass waved excitedly. “And of course, you’ve met Bruce…”

“It’s good to see you again Mr. Wayne.” She held out her hand to shake his.

“Bruce, please. We’re not in the office. Welcome Miss. Dupain-Cheng.” He said warmly, reaching to give her a hug instead.

Marinette beamed at him. “Marinette, please. And thank you. You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you, Marinette.”

“Yeah, yeah. Beautiful home, blah, blah, blah. Alfred’s the one that does all the work anyway. Hi, I’m Stephanie.” She pushed Bruce over as she made her way over to Marinette. Marinette assumed it was a common occurrence based on the way Bruce just sighed and accepted it, sitting down quietly to observe the results.

“And this is Stephanie.” Dick repeated with a laugh.

“Hi, Stephanie. It’s nice to meet you.” Marinette grinned at her.

“How are you feeling? Do you need to sit down? Or drink some water? Or have a snack before dinner?” Stephanie fired off quickly.

“Let her breathe, Steph,” Barbara chided her.

Marinette smiled politely. “I’m fine right now, thank you.” Dick shook his head behind her so she couldn’t see. Unfortunately, she followed everyone’s line of sight and caught him. She gasped and slapped his arm. “I am!”

“You just threw up outside like seconds ago,” he pointed out. “In a bag! That we have since thrown away,” he added quickly before Alfred could hear from the kitchen and get upset they hadn’t mentioned it earlier.

“That was your driving,” she wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to the family. “And now that you’re not driving, I feel better.” Dick laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Oh God, I know exactly what you mean,” Barbara laughed in agreement.

Stephanie nodded in approval. “I like her.” She grabbed Marinette’s hand to pull her away from him and onto the couch. Cass nodded in agreement and moved to join them. “Come on, let’s complain about Dick some more. I have all kinds of stories to tell. You’re a fashion designer right?” Marinette nodded trying to keep up with her, both physically and mentally. “Oh girl, have I got pictures for you!”

“No! No! Let me wow her with my amazing fashion sense.” Dick trailed after them.

Stephanie leaned closer to Marinette as though confiding in her, but kept her voice at the same level so Dick could hear as well. “He says ‘amazing’. I think he’s confusing the word with appalling.” Marinette giggled. She wouldn’t agree out loud, but she’d seen some of his shirts and Stephanie wasn’t wrong.

“She met him wearing that red and black monstrosity and she still went home with him,” Jason pointed out. “You’re not going to scare her away.”

“Wow! You withstood that shirt huh?” Barbara sent them a teasing glance. “You must have been wearing your tight pants that night, Dick.”

“Oh yeah. How drunk were you? I’m going to say you were very drunk. Only possible excuse.” Stephanie waved it off.

“Dick has a lot of assets to offset…” she immediately stopped to rephrase grimacing.

“Hey!”

“Dick is amazing,” she corrected. “And yes he was. And he is smart, sweet, hot, thoughtful, devilishly charming, brave…”

“Says the woman that took down a guy triple her size the first time I met her and took out two henchmen in the hospital last week,” Dick cut in proudly. Marinette ducked her head embarrassed to talk about her more violent experiences in front of his family and her boss. She really did not want them thinking she was dangerous and unhinged. Dick squeezed her and kissed her temple.

“Yeah, we heard about the hospital. Two questions…” he moved so she could see him better.

“Jason, stop being a pain in the ass,” Tim chided him. “She doesn’t want to talk about that.”

Jason examined her for a second. Yes, she was closing off but it didn’t seem to be out of residual fear. It was more embarrassment. He could fix that. “Can’t. It’s in my nature.” He turned back to Marinette with a conspiratorial wink, “Pain in the ass is my middle name.”

Tim groaned. “Welcome to the family. You aren’t really in it until Jason harasses you mercilessly.”

“I thought it was when someone tried to kill you,” Stephanie scoffed.

Cass smacked her upside the head. Stephanie looked back at her betrayed. “What?” She caught Barbara’s pointed look and turned back to Marinette. “…In video games of course,” she corrected.

“Ooh,” Marinette’s eyes widened in excitement. “You guys play? What do you play?”

“Yes!” Duke exclaimed. “How are you at UMS?”

“Award winning,” Marinette smirked. “Literally. You have a copy?”

“As I was saying,” Jason interrupted loudly. “Two questions: one, how are you feeling after the hospital? And two, why did you throw a perfectly good gun?”

“I’m doing okay now. Spent a few days surrounded by either Dick or Tim in meetings or Adrien, my roommate, so I’m feeling a lot better,” she assured him.

“She still has a pretty nasty bruise,” Dick interjected.

“Seen her with her shirt off to know, huh?” Stephanie wiggled her eyebrows.

Marinette squeaked and spoke louder than she needed to. “As for the gun, we don’t really have guns in Paris so I don’t have a lot of experience shooting, but a gun has more than one potential use. During all the akuma attacks we learned to use everyday items creatively. I used it for the less common usage,” she shrugged as casually as she could. “A baton would have been better but you work with what you got.”

“Oh, I suppose Chat Noir has a baton,” Dick playfully grumbled.

Marinette grinned cheekily at him. “He does in fact, kind of like Red Robin but it can break into two if he wanted it to like Nightwing and Signal.”

Damian scoffed. “Being able to break in half decreases the tensile strength of the weapon, making it less effective.”

“True except for one thing… magic.” She wiggled her fingers for effect. Dick huffed out a laugh and Damian scowled.

“Oh, are we comparing baton size between Parisian heroes and Gotham heroes?” Jason asked suggestively.

“I mean you can… but Chat’s could also extend to the length he needs for any task, so...” She shrugged confidently.

“Oooh. I think the Gotham heroes would be a lot more popular if their weapons could do that, too.” Stephanie grinned.

“Anyway…” Jason interrupted. “Do you know how to shoot a gun or what?”

“Oh, no. I don’t,” Marinette answered, returning to Jason’s original topic. “That’s why I threw it. I’m confident enough in my throwing skills to know I’d hit him, but not in my shooting skills and I didn’t want to hit someone else.”

“I’ll teach you sometime,” Jason said resolutely. He wasn’t about to let his de facto sister-in-law not know how to defend herself.

“Oh that’s right. You were the one responsible for the horde of weapons in Dick’s apartment that made me freak out and run in the first place.” She gave him a pointed look.

“You ran because you were afraid.” He pointed out.

“I ran because I have good survival instincts,” she corrected him.

“Clearly not. You ran from Dick,” Damian interjected. Dick gave him a warning look that Damian determinedly ignored.

“Aberration,” she waved him off good naturedly. “You find a stockpile of weapons in Gotham, you run.”

“True. So you in?” Jason asked again.

Marinette stared at him strangely for a few seconds. “Huh. You know, you’re the second person this month to offer to teach me. Red Hood made the same offer.” She missed the glares Damian and Dick sent toward Jason, for different reasons, and the exasperated looks Tim and Bruce sent him.

“He probably just wants to make sure you know how. I’m sure he would be okay with a different teacher,” Jason assured her.

Marinette beamed at him. “It sounds like fun. I’d love to learn.” Dick let out a defeated sigh next to her.

“If you would like to make your way to the dining room, dinner is served.” Alfred announced.

They slowly made their way to the dining room. Dick and Marinette trailed behind the rest so Dick could give her a discrete hug and supportive smile. Jason quickly fell into step beside Marinette. “Damn, you really are the size of a pixie.” He stuck out his elbow to set it on her head.

Marinette gave him a playful glare, dodging before his elbow could land. “You know, you look about the same size as that guy at the bar… didn’t turn out too well for him.”

“Though she be but little, she is fierce,” Jason laughed. “I’m a better fighter than that guy was. After the baby, we can spar and I can show you and maybe teach you a few more moves in case you need to defend yourself.” He let the ‘when you get kidnapped for being with a Wayne’ part of his sentence go unsaid. “You seem like you’ll be scrappy.”

“I’m better than scrappy,” she smirked at him.

“I can’t wait to see it,” Jason grinned as he passed her to get to his seat.

“No, you’re not allowed to encourage each other.” Dick pulled out Marinette’s chair for her and gave Jason a warning look. Damian rolled his eyes at Dick as Alfred started serving the meal.

“Miss Marinette, I made yours less spicy than the rest of the family’s but if your medicine now allows you to eat bolder flavors, I have another back in the kitchen.”

“No, thank you Alfred. This will be perfect. The medicine helps but doesn’t make everything go away. More like a low simmer rather than a full boil.”

“Oh yeah. Dick said you started your morning sickness extra early. That sucks. I hope it means it’ll end extra early for you too.” Stephanie commented sympathetically.

Marinette smiled gratefully. “Thank you. Here’s hoping.” She raised her water in Stephanie’s direction and took a drink.

“Maybe it’s twins,” Jason offered taking a bite of his dinner.

Marinette choked on her water. Dick patted her back. “What?”

“That’s a sign of twins isn’t it? Early morning sickness?” He asked around the bite of roll in his mouth.

“This dinner suddenly got a lot less fun,” Dick mumbled to Marinette.

Marinette glanced surreptitiously toward the direction of her purse in the foyer before snapping her eyes back to Jason. “That’s not funny. You take that back.”

“Sorry, Pixie.” He shrugged nonchalantly, a taunting smile tugging on his lips. “I don’t make the rules.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Jason Aloysius Hubert…”

“Not one of those was anywhere near…”

“…Sebastian Tobias…” she continued ignoring his interruption.

“What the hell kind of names…” Jason started chuckling incredulously.

“…Winthorp…”

“Winthorp?” His nose wrinkled in disgust.

“… Pain in the ass Todd! You take that back right now.” Marinette finished. She glared at him but her faltering puckered lips, straining not to smile gave her away.

Jason broke out into raucous laughter. It took him a few minutes to calm down enough to speak again, but when he did, he wasn’t ready to end the fun. “I’m just saying having a little Marinette and little Dick running around here together would be cute,” he finished innocently.

She scoffed playfully. “If you want two babies running around here together, you better go find a woman to knock up right quick.”

Jason choked on his water. Everyone else’s eyes bugged out. “No! No! No! Little Dick? Cute. Little Marinette? Adorable. Little Jason? Terrifying,” Tim interjected.

“Hey, fuck you, Timbers,” Jason glowered at him.

“Language, Jason,” Bruce chided him.

“Well at least that wouldn’t result in a baby,” Stephanie observed, calmly eating her dinner.

“Might result in a death though,” Duke added, seeming not at all upset at the idea.

“I was an adorable kid,” Jason groused.

“It’s true,” Dick agreed. “You should have seen little Jason running around the manor doing extra credit and bragging about his report card.”

“That’s because my grades were amazing. But not ready to have one of my own honor roll students, so it’s on you, Marinette.”

Marinette leveled a look at Jason. “You know what? If it’s twins, you’re coming over for at least two hours a week…”

“Four,” Dick whispered.

“Per child, so four hours total per week, to watch them for us. Since they’ll be so cute and all. You can teach them with your honor roll brain.” Marinette poked her fork in Jason’s direction still giggling.

Damian scowled at the interaction between Marinette and Dick and Jason. “Threats are unnecessary. It is unlikely you will bear twins unless there is a history of it in your family. Is there a history of it in your family?” he asked disdainfully.

“No,” she admitted.

“Then your panic is childish and unwarranted. It is a statistical improbability,” Damian finished.

“Damian!” Bruce chastised him.

“Back off Demon Spawn. We were just having fun.” Jason growled.

Marinette snorted. “It was a statistical improbability that I would have gotten pregnant in the first place. And yet, here we are. Statistics has taken a giant leave of absence with this pregnancy already.” She stuffed her forkful of potatoes into her mouth with a smirk.

“Life finds a way,” Tim nodded sagely.

The table broke down into giggles. “Dork,” Stephanie snorted, shoving his face away.

“Is it common in France to give multiple middle names?” Bruce asked, trying to keep the group on lighter topics.

“How many names are you planning on giving the baby?” Duke asked.

“Uh, common for rich people anyway. I think they get an extra name for every couple million they’re born into. Adrien has four middle names. My friend Chloe has six.” She rolled her eyes and turned toward Duke. “And we haven’t talked about it but I was only planning on a first, middle, and last name.” She looked over to Dick for confirmation.

Dick nodded, slightly relieved. “Good. That’s good. I agree.”

“You haven’t talked about names yet? That’s going to be a fun conversation. Can I bring popcorn and watch?” Stephanie chuckled.

“Six?” Duke asked.

Marinette nodded. “Unbelievably pretentious parents.” She stopped and looked around. “I mean…”

“Nobody here has more than two middle names, you’re good,” Barbara waved off her concern.

“Oh, thank God. I didn’t want to upset anyone,” she let out a relieved breath.

“No, just entrap Dick and use us for our money,” Damian bit out.

“Damian!” Bruce chastised.

“Damian…” Dick growled lowly. Damian steadfastly avoided Cass’s disapproving frown and Dick’s angry glare.

“Marinette, I apologize for my son’s bluntness. I’ve tried to instill better manners in my children,” Bruce leveled a warning look at Damian.

Marinette blinked a few times and nodded. “Honesty is a virtue,” she started out slowly. “It’s good to be suspicious. I was of anyone who seemed to warm up too quickly to my friends who had assets others might want to take advantage of. A little bit of skepticism is healthy. And at least you’re being honest about it. Most of my friends wouldn’t be if the roles were reversed.” She chuckled slightly before turning toward Bruce. “There’s a respect in that. I know where he stands. He isn’t pretending. There’s no duplicity, no illusions, no pretending for the sake of politeness. You don’t know me and this,” she motioned to her belly, “is a lot all of a sudden to take in, and not just for you.”

“There’s no way she could have intentionally trapped me. I was the one who provided everything, as I’ve said before,” Dick pointed out, his voice sharp and defensive of anyone questioning Marinette.

“Unless it isn’t yours,” Damian hedged coldly.

“Demon Spawn, I swear to…” Jason threw down his fork and started to get up.

“Damian, you will treat our guest with respect or you will go to your room,” Bruce thundered.

“Wow, you are really unafraid. I bet you’re a fearsome sight in any kind of competition.” Marinette sent him an impressed smile. “That’s a valid question. I guess the only way to be absolutely sure is with a blood test and if Dick would like one, I’ll agree to it… after the baby is born. I’m not going to subject the baby to unnecessary dangers just to prove a point.”

“I don’t,” Dick assured her. “I don’t need it. I have no doubts.” Marinette’s eyes shined with appreciation and leaned into Dick as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“But your family might,” she pointed out quietly. “It’s a reasonable request. Believe me when I say if something like this happened to Adrien, Chloe would openly be on a warpath and Alya would be doing all kinds of duplicitous, questionably legal investigations into the woman.”

“Good friends,” Cass commented quietly.

“Yeah, I think I’d like them,” Stephanie agreed.

“And they would demand a blood test, so I understand and take no offense,” Marinette assured them.

“We don’t need it,” Tim spoke up.

“Speak for yourself,” Damian grumbled.

“That’s it Damian, go to your room,” Bruce barked. Damian huffed and pushed away from the table, leaving without a backwards glance.

“Perhaps it is time to retire to the living room with dessert,” Alfred offered, giving Damian a disappointed look as he passed him out of the room. As soon as everyone except Damian was settled in the living room, Alfred brought out the macarons, setting them on the table in the room. “Provided by Miss Marinette.”

“Oh, these look delicious. What are the flavors?” Bruce asked eying the cookies.

“The purple ones are lavender and honey. Dark brown is chocolate hazelnut. Light brown is salted caramel. Yellow is lemon. And pink is raspberry.”

“Holy shit, Pixie!” Jason exclaimed swallowing his bite. “These are good.”

“Jason, language, please,” Bruce repeated in a tired voice.

Cass gave her a thumbs up and grabbed another flavor.

“If you don’t marry her, I will.” Stephanie agreed, shoving her second macaron into her mouth.

Marinette giggled. “Good to know I have backup options.”

Dick narrowed his eyes playfully and wrapped his arms around her protectively. “That’s it we’re going home. You’re not allowed around my family anymore.”

Marinette laughed harder and cuddled into him, resting her head on his shoulder and humming contentedly as he squeezed her tighter against his side.

Chapter 11

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

#maribat #Dickinette February #dickinette #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #prompt - illusion

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voiceswithoutlips · 3 years

Text

Fallen - Chapter One

— pairing: OT7 x Reader (F) — genre: Fantasy AU, Vampire AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff, Eventual Smut, ANGST , Poly!BTS — word count: 2.8k — Rating: M — warnings: minor character death, slight gore — beta: Thank you so much @taegularities and @unoriginal-username15432 for all you feedback <3

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— chapter summary:

The people you killed, they haunted your dreams. They would say to you, “What you do always comes back to you, there is no escape from this miserable life.” It was true, there was no escape. In your world there was only darkness, sorrow, fear, hate and death, always death.

— A/N: It is I, your idiotic author. Welcome to my blog <3

Ch. 2

The sound of rain was like a roaring beast. It was almost midnight and the roads were lonely. You stood there in an alley facing a madman, uh, mad-vampire. His eyes were glowing red; he was wearing a dirty grey cloak on his rag like cloth. His brown hair had gotten messy when he’d run away from you but there he was, still as a dead body, waiting for you to attack. There were thick walls on both sides of the alley and behind him was a dead end. He was trapped.

“Lockham, why don’t you come back with me? That way I won’t have to kill you,” you suggested to the psycho killer vampire who stood a mere ten feet away from you. There was no way for him to run so maybe he would attack. You weighed your options - fight? That would’ve been nice; at least your body would’ve gotten some exercise.

He laughed. “You think you can win? Destiny is waiting for you Hunter,” he said in an impressive voice. Another one of those ‘destiny’ believers. Apparently the Goddess had a plan for us all, not that you had much faith in it. Gods don't care about who kills whom or who eats what, they’re more concerned about their own entertainment. You’d never put much faith in any higher power, God or not, nobody gave a shit.

“You’ve killed people Lockham, you’ve been a very naughty vampire and now it’s time for your punishment,”you said as a teacher would say to a naughty kid. He took a step back.

“Who are you to punish me?” he mocked, showing you his blood covered teeth. He was just having a meal when you found him and then you two had a nice chase. You were glad that he ran, you wanted to stretch out your legs anyway.

“Exactly, I’m no one,” you said and took a step forward; he took a step back simultaneously and vanished. What? Vanished? How? You walked forward to investigate and sighed. How careless of you. There was a hole, he fell into the sewer. He must have used cloaking so that it would look like he vanished. The only thing he forgot was to close the hole. You shook your head, you hated wet places! You jumped down and landed lightly on your feet, without making a sound, perfect.

You were getting bored of chasing him, it was almost dawn and you needed your beauty sleep. You took a deep breath and pulled out your silver dagger. It was your favorite weapon. Silver was deadly to vampires. It was very pretty with a finely carved snake on the handle with emeralds where the eyes should be; a gift from someone you had known a long time ago. You closed your eyes and let your mind wander through the tunnels. Just like your immunity to silver, your telepathy was stronger than centuries old vampires and you could perform magic. You were a half-witch after all.

You found him running through the tunnels. As soon as your mind touched him, he froze. You were inside his mind now. Reading someone’s mind was nothing like watching a movie or reading a book. It was like waking up from a dream, you don’t remember what you saw or heard but the thing that you remember is the feeling, the essence of the dream. Every being has a certain essence, unique to them. Like walls that you can’t see or touch, but you know they’re there. You could clearly see the tunnel before you, but it was like a distant memory, you were no longer there.

You were in a room, an old room with cobwebs and dust. It smelled of something rotten, like a thousand dead rats. There were worn out clothes hanging from the ceiling - correction, there was no ceiling, just clothes hanging midair and swaying with the wind, except there was no wind. At one corner sat two rusty iron chairs. The window with broken glass showed a full moon.

There was an old cupboard on the wall with the yellow wallpaper. It was white as if someone had carved it from bone. There were noises coming from the cupboard, screeching, screaming, the cry of a baby, the soothing voice of a mother, someone’s last words. A shudder ran through your body. I will never ever do this again, you promised yourself.

You heard a creak from behind and you swiftly turned back. There he was, sitting in a corner, the little boy. He held a tattered grey cloak in his hands. His body was folded at impossible angles. He was white as a sheet, there was no blood in his body. He was thin with brittle bones. Dull brown eyes in a sunken face held unimaginable terror.

He looked up at you. “I’m tired, I want to sleep,” he whispered and quickly stole a glance at the cupboard.

“Then why don’t you sleep?” you whispered back, clearly not wanting to wake anything in there. Yeah, getting into someone’s mind was a nice thing, you could get full control over them... but there was a catch. If something went wrong in that mind or if you failed to escape in time, then you’d be trapped there forever, or die. You were pretty sure that you didn’t want to be trapped in this mind, not here.

“They don’t let me sleep, they keep me awake so that I could bring more and more food for them,” he replied, pointing a finger at the cupboard. Slowly, you understood what he was saying. ‘One without a soul feeds on other’s souls,’ the thought crossed your mind, not a good one.

“What if you don’t bring them food?” You already knew the answer but you asked anyway, maybe just to confirm it.

“I’ll go mad,” he whispered back with horrified eyes.

“Come to me, I’ll help you sleep.” The words left your lips, the real ones which were still attached to your face. Lockham turned back and slowly walked towards you. You could hear his heavy footsteps in the tunnel. At last he took the last turn and there he stood right in front of you. His eyes were blank. It was like there was no soul in his body, no life. You had him entirely under your control. If you told him to do ballet, he would dance like a professional, but you weren't a sadist. Life had already tortured him enough.

“Come forward,” you said softly, the sooner it ended the better. He walked forward and your silver dagger slashed through his throat, severing his spine, killing him in a second. Blood splashed and soaked his body. It was a merciful death, you had seen worse. There are worse things than death in this world. Death was just an easy escape.

You stood there for a moment, looking at him, wishing that the outcome would’ve been different. Were you feeling sorry for him? No, you were feeling sorry for yourself. You were a fifty year old vampire and in all your years as a hunter you’d killed hundreds of criminals, but you had never been able to save one.

People knew and people talked. Some said that you were cursed; you were the representative of death, the spawn of darkness. As a result, the council only gave you high profile cases, criminals that were too far gone to be saved. It was always death. The people you killed, they haunted your dreams. They would say to you, “What you do always comes back to you, there is no escape from this miserable life.” It was true, there was no escape. In your world there was only darkness, sorrow, fear, hate and death, always death.

You pulled out your cell phone and called the police. They would take care of the body. You bent down to leave a tracker near it, so they would find it easily. Lockham’s eyes were wide open, and you closed them. “At least one of us is at peace,” you whispered.

“You’re home!!” little Lilly exclaimed happily as you walked through the door. Your family was sitting in the dining room, having supper. You were the firstborn, the eldest of your father’s children. Your father was the Duke of Serafino, the City of Snake; one of the two warrior cities in the Vampire Kingdom. He was a nice man with brown eyes and hair, fair complexion, nicely built but a little short.

Your stepmother was a beauty; she had blue eyes, fair complexion, sharp features and hair spun like gold. Her children took after her, all cream and gold. They all hated you, except for the little one, Lilly.

“Yay, I’m home,” you said sarcastically. It was hard not to be nice to the little girl who looked at you with wonder in her eyes; she was so full of life. To no one’s wonder you had blood on your clothes and your darling step mother eyed it with a look in her eyes that said filthy. For you, it was like an invitation. You were planning to have supper in your room just like any other day, but you sat down at the end of the table. Your father was seated at his normal seat which belonged to the head of the family. The chair right across from him was the place for his wife, but that was your mother’s place and now it belonged to you.

Your mother had died in childbirth, you had her amber eyes and olive skin. Her name was Katina. People told you that she’d been a beauty; you had some of her pictures and sometimes you would feel her close beside you. It was a weird feeling, but not bad, not at all. You weren't a person who put her feelings on display, heck you hadn’t even cried in like twenty years! The only permanent feeling you had left was emptiness. You felt numb, like a shell, nothing inside, no love, no hope, not even sorrow after all these years. It felt like you were dead and it was true, your heart was dead.

“I would like some blood sausages Charles and don’t forget the wine,” you said cheerfully to the butler. He was a nice guy, always talked politely. You suspected that he was in love with the cook, Ms. Glen; it would be nice to have some love in this house which felt like living in a coffin.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Lilly asked, her cheerful eyes trained on you. You wondered for how long this child would be allowed to keep her innocence? When you’d been her age ...you shied away from that thought. Thoughts bring back memories and your memories were like old corpses, one would never want to dig them. Instead you took a bite of your sausage - man, they were delicious.

“It was almost nice, Bunny. I played who-can-catch-me with a friend and I won!!” Bunny was the nickname you had given her because she was never still. Everyone paused for a moment; it was really weird and funny at the same moment. You loved how all the eyes drifted to you and back to Lilly. She was beaming because you had won the game. You gave her a small smile.

“Oh that’s wonderful!! Where is your friend now?” Curious little kid, everyone paused again, including you this time.

“You see, we were playing on a bet. He lost the bet so he had to …go to another city.” You were very good at lying, but her beaming eyes and pure innocence made it hard. It was impossible to lie to that child.

“When would he come back?” she asked, and you sighed. Your plate was half empty and the looks everyone were giving you just killed the hunger inside. You stood up with the wine glass in my hand.

“Chew your food, Bunny,” you replied and left the room.

Your room was a mixture of blue and gold. The wallpapers were straight lines of different shades of blue. The furniture was of mahogany wood with fine carvings. The round rug was golden on the edge and blue in the middle, it looked like a pool of water. All the linen was blue and gold as well. Your bed was round and big with golden bedposts and curtains. You had a balcony of your own with a little fountain with a sculpture of a mother and her child. You had spent a lot of time taking care of the blue roses in your garden.

The front wall was covered with your music collection. You found peace in music, it was the only time when you could just forget everything and float. You quickly changed and crawled under the sheets, picking up the remote from the side table and pressing the play button. It was Mozart’s duo. What an amazing symphony! It helped you drift back to your happy memories.

Unlike your half brothers and sisters, you were raised in Tiria. It was a small town on the edge of Serafino. You were raised by the Countess of Tiria, a very kind woman. She had grace, beauty, and wealth but no children. She showered you with love and pretty gifts. You had excellent teachers for your education. You learned everything from crochet to fencing.

The manor there was old and beautiful. It had a beautiful garden and a whole forest around it. You would often go into the forest, just to explore it. Those were the happiest days of your life. Until your tenth birthday - the day the Countess died.

Just like the symphony, your thoughts turned darker. You’d been happy that day; the maids had told you that you were going to have a big birthday party. The Earl had been there for two weeks now. Your innocent mind had thought that he was there for your birthday. That morning you were out in the gardens, picking up some red roses for the Countess, it was something you did every day. You would just run into her room to put them on her side table, she loved that. You held the bunch of roses in your tiny hands, running through the house to her room. You were wearing a very pretty white dress with laces and pink ribbons. Your bare feet softly met the stone floor as you ran to her room and pushed the door, happily calling to her.

The Countess was there, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. There were bruises on her body and a sword, stabbed right through her heart. The handle of the sword was in the hands of the Earl. He twisted the blade with a cruel smile in his eyes. Then you screamed. The flowers falling from your hands, red roses into red blood - they were the same color. Your pretty white dress was now red. You backed away still screaming, leaving little red footprints on the floor. The maids came running to you and held you tight as you screamed and screamed. You don’t remember for how long you were screaming or what happened later.

You drifted off to sleep.

It was a beautiful forest. The trees were so thick that sunlight barely touched the ground and everything was covered in moss. You were standing there in front of a giant wolf. It wasn’t a werewolf, it smelled like a regular one but just giant, like a direwolf. It was growling at you, baring his teeth. You had no weapons with you, you double checked. You looked around for an escape, you could kill him with your teeth but they weren’t as sharp as they’d used to be. You looked at your nails, they were fragile. Heck! You were human!!

“Y/N, wake up!!” the wolf suddenly spoke in a girly voice. It didn’t make sense, really.

“Are you a girl?” you asked the wolf who was ready to kill you. Talking to an animal, guess you had finally lost your sanity.

“Y/N!!” Someone was shaking you, trying to wake you up without much success. Then you realized you were sleeping under a bunch of blankets and pillows. It was three in the morning; you could tell by the smell of the air. You peeked at the person who had dared to disturbed you. It was Lily.

“What is it, Bunny?” you asked sleepily. It was good she had practice understanding you while you sleep talked, if it was anyone else, they would’ve thought you were talking gibberish.

“I had a bad dream,” she said with a puppy face. You knew what she wanted; she wanted to sleep with you.

“Me too,” you replied and ran your tongue over your teeth, yup, still vampire. “Come here you,” you said, grabbing her and stuffing her under the pile of blankets and pillows. You loved a warm cozy place to sleep. You held her like a teddy bear and dozed off again. She was so soft in your arms and she held tight onto you. Protecting someone was a good feeling. You went back to sleep as if you had never woken up.

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xwing-baby · 3 years

Text

Impulse: Aftermath (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. The worst as happened, your dead. What have you left behind?

Warnings: ANGST! depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing, discrimination towards addicts, mentions of drug abuse, javi and steve have terrible coping mechanisms.

Word count: 2k (short and sweet)

A/n: So I felt bad about how I left it last chapter, maybe this will heal it? Maybe it will make it worse. Either way, enjoy!

Part 1 // Part 2

[1 MONTH AFTER]

The following weeks after your death was harrowing for everyone involved. Connie was beside herself and flew herself home for a week as she couldn’t stand seeing your empty apartment every day. Without his wife, Steve was falling apart at the seams. He was angrier, drinking more and his relationship with Javier was hanging on threads. Even when Connie returned he was unhinged. Javier was a mess, more than he would openly admit, it was obvious to everyone around him. He tried to find solace in alcohol and women but it didn’t work. Guilt surrounded him like a bad smell that he couldn’t shake. Together, Javi and Steve were reckless and ruthless.

The question of who killed you was still a mystery. The getaway vehicle had been found in Bogata a few days after the shooting, ablaze. Javi and Steve had waited for somebody to claim the killing but no one ever did. Cali and Escobar, even Los Pepes never said a word. Javier had tried to find your CI but they’d disappeared too.

As with any death of an agent in the field, the DEA intended to investigate your death. Today was the day that Javier was to hear the verdict. He was anxious, he knew they needed help if they were ever going to catch your killer and this could be the final push needed to topple Escobar’s power.

Alone, Javier drove to the embassy dressed in a nice suit and tie. He was hopeful, almost excited. If this meeting went the way he was expecting you would get the vengeance you deserved and this hell could be over.

He entered the meeting room confidently but almost immediately stumbled when only one man stood in the room. Ambassador Crosby stood at the top of the large table, he greeted Javier politely when he arrived and offered him a chair opposite. Confused, Javier sat down.

“I’m going to cut the crap with you, Peña. We are not investigating Agent L/n’s death,” The Ambassador said bluntly. Javier’s stomach twisted, “I’ve been talking with everybody that needs to be involved and we all agree. She admitted her drug use to me, her death was entirely so a result of her ‘extracurricular activities’. I see no reason to use any more of the agency's funds on a rookie who went off the rails,” The Ambassador lit a cigarette nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just dealt Javier a nearly fatal blow. Javier had never imagined that to even be a possibility. He was in shock.

“You’re joking,” Javier deadpanned.

“I understand you’re upset, Peña, I do. She was a sweet girl, and from what I gather from Agent Murphy’s report you two were very close, but I see no reason to investigate further. She wasn’t a qualified agent we hold no loyalty to our usual promises,”

“She deserves-,” Javier started, rage quickly boiling inside him.

“She doesn’t deserve anything,” He interrupted Javier sharply, “She was an addict. You should count yourself lucky I don’t have you fired. You knew she was breaking her contract and you said nothing,”

“She was doing her job. She was a great agent and this never should have fucking happened. She deserves everything Camarera got and more!” Javier exclaimed.

“You’re right it shouldn’t have happened. You were her mentor, you were supposed to be protecting her from exactly that kind of shit. She was never meant to leave your fucking side, what in the hell possessed you to think she could have a CI?”

“She was a good agent,” Javier repeated, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“She was a kid,” The ambassador corrected him. Javier hung his head in defeat, “Get out, expect a call from DC too,”

As if this waking nightmare you had left behind you could get any worse, now this. It was another blow to Javier's ego that he did not need. Without help from the agency, there would be no way to investigate your death and no way for any substantial closure for Javier or Steve. You would become just another name on the list of unfortunate souls lost to this drug war. They had dismissed you as if you were nobody. They had cleaned their hands of your blood without a second thought. That was not a luxury that Javier had.

Javier was exhausted. The news felt like the final blow that had finally landed him on his ass. But he knew had one last thing to do before he could sleep, he had to tell Steve the news. Javier let himself into Connie and Steve’s apartment, the two were eating dinner together quietly. Without a word, he sat down at the table, and Connie passed the man a beer, which he took and swallowed down gladly.

“So? What did they say?” Steve asked, his mouth full of food.

“They said they wouldn’t investigate further because of everything that she was doing,” He replied after a moment

“Shit,” Connie sighed, taking a big sip of wine. Steve looked between his wife and his friend, put his cutlery down and frowned.

“What do you mean everything she was doing?” Steve asked, “She was working with us, she wasn’t doing anything wrong,”

“She was doing coke, a lot of it,” Javier said bluntly, finding no other way to soften what had happened, “Guess she got it from her CI, I don’t know but she tried to fix it with the ambassador before she died and now they won’t investigate,”

“What?” Steve laughed in disbelief. Javier’s frown didn’t break, He turned to his wife expecting her to be just as shocked. She wasn’t at all. She knew, “How come you know about this and I don’t?” Steve exclaimed.

“She showed up on the street after Javi caught her at the embassy and I took care of her, made sure she was okay. She told me everything,” Connie explained.

“At the embassy?” Steve repeated, not believing a word he was hearing. He knew something was up with you but he hadn’t imagined it could be that bad, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought you knew and just didn’t want to talk about it!” Connie exclaimed, “I thought you guys would have taken a bit more care with your teammate!”

“Hey don’t put it back at me!” Javi scowled at the woman.

“That's why you were so mad that day? Because you caught her with cocaine?” Steve asked, his volume increasing with each question, “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,”

“Any of my- You’re fucking unbelievable Javi,” Steve scoffed, “Been here how long and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trusted her enough to sort it out herself. You would have freaked her out!” Javier said honestly.

“Look at all the good that did, huh? You got her killed! May as well have shot her yourself!” The words hit Javier like a slap in the face. Shocked, Javi couldn’t speak.

“Steve!” Connie exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Steve spat, stepping up to Javi. Javi quickly backed off, glaring at his partner and leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

In the hallway, Steve and Connie’s argument could still be heard. Javier’s anger was stopped by the sight of your door across the hallway. Someone else had moved in already. The door had been repainted, the chipped blue paint replaced with a glossy green, the number had been straightened and the smiley face sticker you put on had been peeled off. The world was moving on. You were just a passing character, never meant to stay long. You would have left eventually even if you hadn’t died. You were never meant to be permanent. Javi hoped the pain you had left him would be just as temporary but it was likely scars would remain.

He couldn’t repaint over memories of you. The scuff marks on his dashboard from your shoes would remain. The chipped mug you had claimed as yours would still sit on his draining board. Shaky polaroid photos he had kept from blurry nights in bars and a cartoon you had drawn of him and Steve on the back of an invoice all sat in the drawer of his nightstand. Those things would last. Part of him wanted to get rid of it all, burn it to remove you entirely from his life and pretend like it was all some horrible, strange dream. But he wouldn’t. You may have been temporary but your impact on him was permanent.

The next day Javier kept well away from Steve. He knew he would still be resentful, rightfully so, and he knew him well enough to know to just give him some space. They could get on with things separately until it blew over.

The news that the DEA would not be making a full investigation into your death had spread quickly and calmed tensions around the compound and in the embassy immensely. The Columbians didn’t want more American’s down here if it could be helped, everyone remembered the brutality of Camerana’s investigation and if a repetition of such events could be avoided it was a win for everyone.

Midday came and Javi took a break from hunting through seemingly endless transcriptions of taped conversations to sit outside in the sun. Guilt was piling up again with Steve against him too, he only felt worse. He couldn’t concentrate. Between his thoughts and the constant interruption of people trying to be sympathetic, Javi had had enough. He wanted to be alone. A few minutes in the sunshine with a cigarette and birdsong would clear his head and he could be useful again.

Javier sat in the courtyard, looking out onto the training grounds and watched the recruits struggle under their training officers barking orders. He took off his jacket, letting his skin take in the early summer rays. On the way to being relaxed, Javier felt content. He didn’t think of you or Steve or anything other than the way the rays heated his skin and how the grass felt under his palm.

“Mind if I join?” Steve interrupted Javier’s moment. He too needed a quiet moment and while he was not completely over his friend’s concealment of the truth he didn’t want to struggle through the new emotions without him. Javier shrugged and moved his jacket to let his friend sit next to him. “Nice day,” He commented, not sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken at all since last night, avoiding each other like the plague. Javi grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigarette again.

The tension between the two men settled, they needed each other to get through this, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you man,” Javier finally spoke, breaking the silence. Steve was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to apologise first.

“It all happened kind of fast, I get it,” Steve replied, “She always was so efficient with things,” He chuckled. It was dark but the joke broke Javier’s frown.

“Bet Carrillo’s glad he doesn’t have her nagging at him all the time now,” Javi added. Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“It’s going to be nice without their constant bitchin’,'' Steve smiled, he paused for a moment. “It’s gonna be quiet,” he added sadly.

The two fell silent again. He was right, everything was going to be quieter without you. Whether it was shouting at Carrillo for being an asshole, or singing along to the radio loudly while you're full of adrenaline after a chase, or even just your constant tapping and fidgeting. Life was going to be quieter without you.

“Ey! Peña! Murphy! Vamos, we’re going!” Carrillo’s voice called them back to reality.

The war wasn’t stopping for anyone, your death was just one of the thousands that had already been claimed by it. They would miss you, but both men knew they couldn’t let your short time with them hold them back. They would always carry you with them and their final win, when Escobar was dead, would be yours too.

NEXT PART

did that make it worse? did that make it better?

want to get tagged in the next part? let me know

tag list: @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @this-cat-is-dea @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh @itsaisopodkillmepls @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @lesbianlena @xiao-lusi @all-good-things-have-an-ending

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heresathreebee · 3 years

Text

That G-D Ring of Yours

High Fidelity’s Robyn Brooks X Female reader

Summary: You seek comfort from your neighbor Rob

Masterlist

There's probably gonna be a part 2

Word count: 2.5k words

Warning(s): +15 | implied cheating, internalized homophobia, heterosexism, author and Rob swearing, no hate to polyamorists but major hate to bad faith players, shameless self insert, no beta, barely edited, long as fuck I'm so sorry

Author's note: I'm having anxiety for no discernable reason and my brain has decided this is ideal fuel for a fic, so please enjoy. EDIT: ha ha yeah still anxious but we're doing stuff about it

-------------------------------------------------------

"-- And she just touched my hand by accident and I just felt this– this spark between us…"

It was so sweet how he was talking about it. Or at least it would be were this not your fiancé explaining how he had been seeing another person behind your back. Had you rushed into things with him? Gotten hitched after three months because of familial pressure to settle down and start your family? Quite possibly.

But it didn't make that stabbing in your gut hurt any less.

You had been a little gung-ho from date number 1, but he had been right there with you the whole time. Date number 2 happened the following weekend and then you just kept seeing each other more and more until before you knew it you had been introduced to each other's extended families and announced your engagement on Valentine's Day.

You started to suspect something was amiss on Sunday, when you were braiding your hair on the bed and he had gone to take a shower. He accidentally set his phone screen aside with a text chat still open. Thinking nothing of it (he had already told you he was talking to Mark about getting drinks tonight), you looked at the name and saw it belonged to a woman you had never heard of before. Your immediate reaction was 'she must be a new coworker or a cousin,' but then you glanced again and saw the text conversation mirrored the same kind of ‘sentiments’ he texts you.

The dirt burned into your brain for eternity:

You had looked away then. You were actually not going to say anything at all to him that night– had planned to bring it up after Tuesday dinner with your auntie's family, but something came up. It turns out that Jessabelle also frequented the same Starbucks as you (and she's your age, not a teen like you worried). You can't even find it in you to be mad at her since it seemed like she had no idea who you were when she showed you the picture of her date at a baseball game. You tried not to puke as you asked for her number and to send her that picture "for her contact profile."

You hadn't heard a word your fiance had said since the beginning of the phone call and you cut him off with some excuse you barely remember. You tossed your phone carelessly onto the couch and laid back on the cushions in defeat. What now?

You weren't really a drinker or a smoker, and you didn't exactly have friends who would be supportive right now. You could hear them now, your family too– asking you what you did wrong, telling you to just forgive him or how to get even, or simply saying 'well what do you expect? Boys will be boys.'

Maybe… no, you definitely need to get this off your chest before you do something stupid like pretend to forget about it. You had a bad habit of that because you tend to fall fast and hard. Perhaps your neighbor could give you some advice.

Thank the Lord for fire escapes. Rob lived on the floor beneath you, always playing something good from her huge collection of vinyl records. You've told her at least a hundred times before if she played nothing but Phil Collins for the rest of eternity, you could die happy. You crossed your fingers and hoped you weren't being weird or invading her privacy.

Thankfully, she seemed to be expecting you. She even motioned that the latch was undone and waved you inside. Ok the second wine glass made your face grow hot.

"I'm not interrupting am I?"

Rob gave you a warm smile. "I could hear you pacing around your kitchen for about an hour. Was about to come and get you actually."

She pressed the glass into your hand and you made an effort not to grimace. Rob liked her drinks cheap and strong and she never held back. You tried a sip just to be polite, and she snorted at the face you pulled.

"That's right, you like that sweet stuff. What's it called again?"

"Stella Rosa," you mumbled, grateful when she takes the glass back and hands you a water to replace it.

"Favorite flavor," she asked looking at her phone.

"Uh… the peach and the rosé. They're all pretty good, not gonna lie."

"OK, take this, grab a blanket from the hall closet, and tell me what's going on."

You curled up on Rob's couch and put your feet up. There were piles of records all over the place, empty beer cans and a pizza box or two on the coffee table. Your neighbor tapped away at her phone screen before silencing it and slipping it in her back pocket. She gave you a minute or two to speak up, sipping her drink like you two had all night. Which actually you did as you did not want to see your fiancé right now.

You felt two fingers gently tap your forehead. "Come on, dreamer, tell me what's going on in that head of yours."

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I feel a little over dramatic saying my life is about to fall apart."

Rob raised her eyebrows at you. "Damn, OK."

You rush to correct yourself– explain your weird sentiment in more detail but you end up just vomiting words until your voice is hoarse.

"I mean– like– like it's not falling apart per say or whatever– I… the rest of my life is fine its just my relationship that's screwed. Which I guess I'm more worried about because it's gonna screw up all my other relationships for a while too– dang it, let me start over–"

"Babe! Slow down. Breathe." Rob switched drinks with you and against your better judgement you took a sip. Oddly enough it did calm you down. "So… it's your fiancé, right? What did he do?"

You stared at her trying to unscramble your thoughts. "He… I found out he was kind of... dating another person. After I found out, he tried to explain that he didn't think I would mind–"

Rob barked, "let me guess: he didn't think you were exclusive? Pull the Main Chick, Side Chick schtick? Tried to claim 'polyamory' after he got caught?"

Two and two clicked together at last. "Yeah… yeah, he did!," you scoffed, "and it's not like it didn't ever come up in conversation: we spent our third date talking out our, like, sexualities and fantasies and fetishes and shit. If he was polyamorous, wh- why wouldn't he have brought it up then?"

"That is so fucked."

You took a deeper draft of her wine, coughing before setting it aside. Up until now, you've been numb. Now there's this wave of anger boiling up to the surface and you hear yourself getting louder. Rob doesn't flinch but she does give you this look of empathy unlike anything you've seen before.

"If he– if he would have just asked me, I would have told him it was fine. My family does shit like that all the time: nobody bats an eye! If he really thought I wouldn't mind, he wouldn't have been so freaking sneaky about it. He literally lied, Robyn!"

You whipped around and for a brief moment you knew you looked crazy. "He said he was going out for drinks with his guy friend, but he was making plans to go to a baseball game with a girl I've never heard of! If he really thought I wouldn't mind, or if he 'thought I would understand,' then why would go out of his way to lie about who he was with?"

Someone buzzed Rob's door and she left you on the couch momentarily, coming back quickly with two bottles of your favorite wine. "Damn girl, these are kinda bougie: Peach or Rosé?"

"I--"you choked, "Robyn you didn't have to–"

"Peach it is!" She unscrewed the caps and handed you the whole freaking bottle of white, downing the last of her merlot and getting a fresh glass for you.

You felt a little guilty she had spent money on you. But then again it had been her choice. If she didn't want you there, Rob wouldn't have let you in in the first place. Maybe you were just a tinsy bit worried you shouldn't be here.

You and Rob took a break from talking to put on music and get a little tipsy. It came much easier with the help of the Stella Rosa, though Rob initially complained it was 5.5%, she did get accustomed to the sweetness pretty fast, and after consuming half the bottle, realized it was a little easier to get carried away with a drink like this. She admitted it was her first time trying rosé and now she was hooked. Eventually you started talking again, just spilling your guts out with no filter anymore.

"I really think I just hate myself," you said cuddling the cool glassware. "When I found out, I wasn't even thinking of it as a betrayal of my trust– it felt like I was trying to come to terms with it so I could continue with the relationship. Not because it would make me happy but because… I don't know… it's what everybody else wants me to do. They don't even know about it and I was fully prepared not to tell them even though they'd want me to marry him whether they knew or not."

Rob barked a laugh of surprise. "Doh-K!"

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing…" she said, "keep going."

You stared off into the middle distance and leaned into her side. She was a tiny bit warm despite her lithe figure. Made you want to throw your blanket over her shoulders and share your greater warmth.

So you did (you're not great at acting out your desires but this is nice!)

"It's just easier," the words left your mouth unbidden, "I don't even know what that means, but it's true. I don't want to marry him anymore but I don't want to break it off. Not marrying Fiancé means disappointing my family. It means having to find an entire new man to marry sooner rather than later because I'm already 'behind' and lowering my already low expectations.

"It's not gonna make me happy, but I just think it's easier to keep this wedding going because at least I won't have to find somebody new who might not be as good for me just because I didn't want him. Another man won't make me happy so there's no reason to drop him... except that I don't want him."

Rob's brow furrowed. "Are you saying it's easier for you to please your family than it is to be happy?"

"Yes? I– no, I– … I don't know," you sigh. "I guess you could say my priorities are a little… mismanaged."

"Sure, you could say that." Rob wrapped her arms around your shoulders and you inhaled the scent of her soap and cigarettes. "What if you tried… like… not doing that anymore...? You just said you do whatever your family wants you to do. So, just like do what makes you happy for a change."

It really does sound so simple the way she puts it, doesn't it? Why are you doing this to yourself? You're not dependent on them for money or security or happiness for that matter. So... why has your whole life been centered around pleasing them?

"I think… I think I've never really sat down and thought about what makes me happy," you admitted. "I think it's just been that way forever and I might have been too scared to try anything else."

Rob hummed. "Are you still scared now?"

Are you? You look into her eyes and ask yourself a question that has never crossed your mind with such depth. You used to be scared– but what is it about your happiness that you are so afraid of? OK, let’s start a little simpler: what are things that make you happy?

“I like…” you swallowed, trying to break down the barriers you’ve built years and years ago. “I like… coffee. I like… short skirts. I like… girls– I like… my job. I like… music. I think I’d enjoy camping, you know, some day…”

Your words… these things seemed so arbitrary and trivial. But in your house, these things cause dissent. “My family has an opinion about everything. There’s no right way to live in all of their eyes, but I think I figured out a way to get past it. Keep my head down and do what’s expected of me. Graduate college, get a respectable job, find a man to marry, drop the job and become a mother. Just… don’t make waves. It seemed better because the cousins who didn’t or couldn’t… well they became the butt of every joke at the family dinner. Lisa had one miscarriage so she was a ‘failure’ and Don never dated girls so he was gay and that was ‘bad,’ but grandma Zelda did everything a good Christian woman could do and they still gossiped about her behind her back…

“And I just… I just let their ignorance control me for my entire life.” God, you could cry right now, but somehow it just felt too good to say it outloud. “That.. that is so fucked.”

Robyn snorted, and you turned to her as if you’d forgotten she was there. There it was again, that sympathy. Not pity, she did not burden you with tears of her own or try to be angry for you. She just listened and understood. You twisted the diamond encrusted ring on your finger and stared at her. You felt it, that feeling in your heart. No one else had given you that look, like she could really see you.

“You’re not going back to Fiancé, are you?” Her question was equal parts worrisome and hopeful and you already knew the answer in your heart.

“No.”

And that was it. Decision made. Actually easier than you'd thought. Maybe not down the road but it felt good for now. There's the telling your fiancé it's over, the moving out, the public announcement, the inevitable feeling of failure, your family, god, his family too. Untangling your lives would be long and hard. You're not sure if you have that level of commitment and motivation in you but fuck it. Problems for tomorrow.

You rest your head on Rob's shoulder and hope your not pushing any boundaries. She doesn't stop you though, in fact she snuggles you deeper into her. You get the feeling she's been here before though your not sure which side or how bad it was for her.

"I like you way more in the few times I've met you than any man I've ever dated," you heard yourself say. "I'm sure that means something but I'm too tired to decide anymore. No tonight at least."

Rob chuckled. "I like you too, sugar."

If you made it this far, hi 💛 appreciate you, leave me a comment! Or just comment "💛"

#Rob Brooks x Female reader #high fidelity rob brooks #three bees writing #rob brooks x reader #black reader insert #I just think about her sometimes #🐝🐝🐝✒#angst?

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giuliafc · 3 years

Text

Betrayal -- Chapter 19 and 19bis: Inside the Mind of a Criminal (snippet dal 30) + Pigella (LadyNoir July day 30)

<< 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 – 15 – 16 – 17 – 18 -- 19: Ao3 || FFN – 19 bis: Ao3 || FFN -- 20 >>

Betrayal Chapter 19: Inside the Mind of a Criminal

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Agrestebug and MyImaginationFlows

Summary: We learn the background story of Lila's father, Richard Sphinx, the new Papillon, and how he's going to be much, much worse than the first one...

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

TW: mention of extreme manipulative and obsessive behaviour and cruelty against family

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Well done, Lila. Now head back to the monk and get his staff. If there are more jewels like these, we need to get our hands on them!" Richard sat at the desk of his office, staring at the nothing in front of him. His elbows pinned on the wood of the desk, his face resting on the length of his hands. His body was wrapped in a purple and grey suit and a grey mask covered his face, making his green eyes shine.

Briefly, he broke contact with Lila's akuma and stood up; he slowly paced the room to the fireplace. His gloved hand picking up a photograph on the mantle, portraying a woman with short brown hair wrapped in an elegant blue tailleur.

He still remembered the day he'd met Melania, Lila's mother. She was a petite Italian lady who exuded elegance and genuineness at a celebrity party. She looked so out of place, and her cheerful smile was like a breath of fresh air in the hypocrite atmosphere of the ball room. He still remembered his burning passion, how much he'd wanted her—her and all she represented. She was the daughter of a rich Italian family of ambassadors, with excellent connections all over the diplomatic world he wanted to be part of. When his charming politeness managed to raise her interest, he thought he'd hit the jackpot.

Their story had been short but intense, their relationship the final tassel in the puzzle that brought him to the limelight. Before their engagement of 5 years ended, FERG, his company, was quoted in the stock exchange. Quickly rising to be one of the top companies in the market.

Everything was perfect. Then, Melania fell pregnant and had her baby. For reasons that Richard couldn't understand, she somehow started distancing her husband — him. He suspected that the accusations of him having committed several cases of fraud, and having caused several suicides, may have been part of it. But Richard had done it for her. Nobody else was important in his mind. He had to protect his family. He had to protect the people who mattered for him. How could Melania not see that?

"You're a heartless monster!" she accused him instead, when she tried to leave him and go stay with a friend; but he found her almost immediately and locked her up in her room.

The more he clenched his grip on Melania, the more the woman became distant, almost terrified. Eventually, she dared to ask for divorce and deny him the rights to see his daughter.

"His obsessive behaviour is harming me and my daughter! I'm afraid for our safety, Your Honour," she told the judge. "Only the money is important to Richard! He puts his company before the safety of his family."

Needless to say, she won the case. Since then, she kept as far away as possible and had tried to keep Lila away from him too. She had changed her surname to the plain Rossi, and changed her job many times. Until Lila was old enough to make her own decisions, she succeeded at keeping him away.

But Lila was a clever girl. Her thirst for power and her quest for attention were second to him. She knew what was important in life, that power and money were the only things that mattered. As soon as she had gained the use of a mobile phone, she contacted him (lying to her mother). They had been plotting against Melania ever since.

Now it was their time to obtain their aim. When Papillon trusted Lila to be his second in charge, Richard advised his daughter to gain as much information as she could about those powerful jewels that gave him power. Now all that hard work was paying off.

He squeezed Melania's photo in his hands, breaking the frame with his strong hold. How dare she run away from him? How dare she disregard his burning passion?

"You don't love me, you think you own me," shouted Melania when she left him, taking away his only daughter with her. "I don't want you to be a bad influence on our daughter. You terrify me."

How dare she. She was his wife, his other half, his property.

"You're mine. MINE. No judge can take you away from me."

He stared in a daze at the blood flowing from his gloved hands, where the shattered glass of the photo frame had pierced the skin underneath the suit. His eyes gleamed of madness. "I will be victorious. I will get the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir. And when I have the most powerful jewels in the world, you will come back. You will love me again. If you won't, I’ll force you to."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Gabriel closed his eyes as he placed a single red rose between Emilie's palms and squeezed her hands gently before closing the glass cover of her coffin one last time. He rested his hand on the glassy surface for an endless moment; the hand of Lieutenant Raincomprix falling on his arm way too soon for his tastes. He sighed and gave one last glance at the peaceful face of his sleeping wife.

"It's time to go, M. Agreste. Mlle. Sancoeur," said the officer.

They had spent a long time talking to SentiAdrien in Adrien's room. The boy had confirmed most of the wrongdoings that his teachers and friends had accused Gabriel and Nathalie of, and had pleaded completely non guilty regarding any involvement in his father's terrorist activities.. M. Raincomprix had decided to be safe, and was arresting both Gabriel and Nathalie.

"Mlle. Sancoeur will most likely be released when the heroes witness her double agenting, but better safe than sorry," said Raincomprix.

Gabriel glared at him as the officer moved his and Nathalie's hands behind their back and handcuffed them. He shot one last, languid glance at the blonde figure in the coffin, before having to follow Raincomprix and walk away.

To be continued… Day 30.2 — Bonus chapter

30.2 - Betrayal Chapter 19 bis: Pigella

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Agrestebug and MyImaginationFlows

Summary: Ladybug struggles to understand how to win against the vacuum akuma, but Volpina has to eventually face (temporary) defeat. (1687 words)

Written for the LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly Day 30 — Rose.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Hey, Vacuum Lady, Aren't you tired of collecting dirt?" shouted Chat Noir as he used his baton to propel himself up. He smirked and added, "Probably not, since you've got Volpina with you. She's the biggest piece of dirt in existence!"

"How dare you," hissed Volpina and the Vacuum akuma at the same time before they both followed Chat Noir out of the way.

Ladybug gazed at the two akumas following her partner gratefully; then she put her hands to her temples and closed her eyes shut to concentrate. She picked up her communicator and dialled Alya's number.

"What's the plan, Ladybug? I saw Chat Noir jumping away with the akumas, I thought he may be trying to distract them."

"You were correct. Listen, Alya, I need you to use the water dragon. Water passes through surfaces so you will reach me in no time," whispered Ladybug to her Bugphone.

Alya smirked. "Right-o, I'm on it!"

Just seconds after their conversation, Ladybug saw water seeping through the barrier of books that towered in front of her. And, in a whirl of magic, Dragonbee Alya appeared in front of her. She wore a red outfit with the symbol of the dragon at the centre of her chest and curvy golden lines separated the red from sections of gold and black stripes. Her hair was combed in a twirly ponytail that looked like the sting of a bee. Ladybug didn't waste time and picked up her phone again, dialling Chat Noir's number this time.

"Chat, bring your whiskers back here immediately, before your transformation wears out!" she said before he could even say meow. With a gracious jump, her partner was again by her side seconds later.

"M'lady called?" he asked with a little smirk that Ladybug would have loved to take off his face with a kiss, but she knew perfectly well it wasn't the right moment.

"Alya, Chat and I’s timers are running out, we must be quick. Use the wind dragon and swoop us out of this alley and back on a rooftop."

Alya's eyes gleamed. "As you wish, Ladybug. Wind dragon!" Ladybug and Chat Noir were wrapped in a current of wind and next thing they knew, they were on a rooftop next to Nino (or rather, Thueban Jameel (1), as he has called himself), far away from the Library Maze but still keeping it in sight. The two heroes hid behind a chimney to release their transformation and feed their kwami without being spied on, and in no time they were up and running again.

"Okay now…before the akumas find us and we get stuck into that maze again. Lucky Charm!" called Ladybug. A red and black polka dotted single rose fell into her hands. "What?" she muttered, scratching her head.

"Are we going to declare our love to a vacuum cleaner?" was Chat Noir's snarky comment. But before Ladybug could say anything, the rooftop they were standing on disappeared and they all fell on the ground, facing yet another massive wall of books.

"Shoot! Here we are again…" cursed Ladybug.

The vacuum akuma reached them as well. "There you are, you fools. Did you really think you could escape? What a bunch of idiots! Tricksters, like that thief. I'll sweep you all away from existence. I wish I didn't always try to help people. I wish my heart hadn't been so kind. I'll take all the tricksters away, so maybe my boss will forgive me. I need my job!"

The four superheroes had to forcefully separate again trying to escape from the strength of the vacuum's sucking power. Before jumping off, Ladybug took a good look at the akuma and noticed that the akumatised object must be a book, which the victim was holding in her hand to create the vortex of sucking power.

Something in what the akuma had said was nagging at Ladybug. As she ran to hide from the vacuum, she went back to what the akuma had previously said: someone had stolen a book from her library and she was upset about it.

"What do you mean by trickster?" she asked when the akuma reached her once more.

A smirk popped on the victim's face. "That liar tricked me. He told me a sappy story about his family and convinced me to lend him the book without opening an account, but in the name of someone else. He promised me he was going to bring the book back in a couple of days. I'm too nice, too gullible. I wish all the tricksters would disappear!"

Ladybug's gaze fell on her lucky charm and her eyes widened. OF COURSE! How could she be that stupid to not realise before? She unified Kaalki and Tikki, becoming Pegabug. Then, with a smirk on her lips, she called for a 'Voyage' and jumped out of the maze, stepping inside the Couffaine's boat.

"Ladybug? Is there something wrong?" said Rose. That was a strike of luck: Rose was in Juleka's room, but her girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. "Jules is in the bathroom, if you're looking for her," added Rose when she noticed that Ladybug's gaze had darted around the room.

"No, I was looking for you, actually." She opened her yoyo and took out a pearl anklet. "Rose Lavillant, this is the Miraculous of the Pig. I need Pigella's help to win against this akuma."

Rose grabbed the anklet and put it on, allowing Daizzi to come out in a buzz of magic. "I still can't believe how cute you are," said Rose when she looked at the little kwami. Then, she muttered the transformation phrase and changed into Pigella.

It didn't take long for Pegabug and Pigella to find the vacuum akuma again, just in time to see Chat Noir being sucked in the vacuum when he got distracted by their arrival. The sound of Ladybug's scream echoed in the empty alley of books.

"You've got another one with you, Ladybug? I'll suck her in too!" drawled the akuma victim. But Pigella's gaze had a determined gleam.

"Why is your heart so full of sorrow? You should rejoice and be happy!" said Pigella with the sweetest of smiles on her face.

"Don't get close to me! I'm going to suck you in!" warned the akuma, but Pigella didn't just get close to her. She hugged her. The akuma was so baffled that she got petrified on the spot.

"Gift," murmured the pink superheroine and in a flash of light, a beautiful scene appeared in between the two girls, picturing a room full of books and everyone loving each other and being nice and friendly with each other. The akuma victim had tears in her eyes.

"Why are people so nasty? Why do people do wrong things, like lying or stealing? I want everyone to be happy!" The akuma leaned in Pigella's embrace and hugged her back, dropping the book that created the vacuum in the process. As soon as the akuma's grip on the book weakened, Ladybug caught it. She broke the book to release the butterfly, which she hastily captured, cleansed and released.

"Bye bye, little butterfly," said Ladybug as the white insect flew away in the sky. Then she picked up the lucky charm and threw it in the air, releasing the kaleidoscope of ladybugs. The instant Chat Noir reappeared, she was in his arms.

"I'm purr-fectly okay, M'lady," said the feline but this didn't stop the polka-dotted heroine from crying.

"Why do you always die for me? I don't want you to do that anymore!"

Chat Noir smiled softly as he hugged her tight, then he broke the hug to wipe her eyes and stroke her cheek. "I'm sorry, ma Buginette. I'll try to pay more attention, okay?"

"This new Papillon seems very dangerous, especially because he has a cunning fox like Volpina at his side. We need to pay even more attention than before!" said Ladybug as she hugged him again. He patted his hand on her back, gently drawing circles on the material of her suit.

"I'll be okay, as long as I'm with you," murmured Chat Noir into her ear.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"I'm very disappointed, Volpina." Richard's voice was tense as he spoke through the ethereal connection of the butterfly. "We were so close to achieving our goal, and now we have to start all over again! I've no time for losers!"

Far away on a rooftop, Volpina lowered her head and closed her eyes, clenching her fists. "I'm sorry, Father! I still have my Miraculous though, and the akuma."

She groaned thinking back at how Pegabug had immediately found the tracker she'd put on Su-Han's bag. She had completely underestimated how strong and skilled the monk was, and she hadn't been able to steal his staff. Besides, Su-Han seemed to have the annoying ability to see through her Illusions, which she really didn't expect.

"I will come up with a new plan to submit to you, Father, don't worry!" she said, seething in a low growl.

Richard's stern expression didn't soften. "You better. Did you get Melania to sign the document I gave you?"

Volpina took a paper from her pocket and looked at it carefully. It was a request to cease school and start homeschooling, signed by her mother. It had taken her much more than just a trick to obtain her mother to scribble her signature without noticing what it was all about. "I have it here. I told her that the school will be closed because of all the attacks and that I would stay with a friend of mine for some time." Pain flashed through her eyes as she added, "I doubt she would have noticed anyway, as busy as she is with work."

Richard smirked, hearing the hurt in Volpina's voice. "Worry not, my daughter. When we make the Wish, she will have all the time in the world to dedicate herself exclusively to us." His smirk widened when he felt the strength of her emotions. "Together we will succeed."

He cackled, and from her rooftop, Volpina sneered.

To be Continued… Day 31

Notes:

Thueban Jameel: "Beautiful Snake", from the Arabic for beautiful, "Jameel" (جميل) and the Arabic for snake, "Thueban" (ثعبان). (Thank you so much to my Beta, MyImaginationFlows, for her assistance with Arabic!) The peacock is the symbol of beauty, so I thought it would fit.

Author's Note

Hey! Here it is, this is a bonus chapter I had to write because the snippets didn't give me enough space to wrap up the battle and all loose ends. It's a second part for chapter 19, based on the LadyNoir prompt for day 30, "Rose". Let me know what you think of it.

I hope you will like it anyway and will leave me a comment. You know that comments are my bread and butter!

You're lucky today because you're getting even the epilogue and the end of the story. So… until I finish updating that, a temporary 'bug out'!

#miraculous ladynoir #miraculous love square #miraculous lb #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #miraculous adrien #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous nathalie #nathalie sancoeur #ladynoirjuly2021 #miraculous fanworks

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obwjam · 3 years

Note

#17 with a shrunken Obi-Wan or Anakin?

“Is this size permanent?”

i’m doing anakin and using my oc for this because obi-wan deserves a win

from this post

--------------------------------------

Nobody knew what had just happened.

The Separatists were always trying out new weapons, but when Anakin held up his lightsaber to deflect the weird blue laser that was headed straight for him, he didn’t expect his body to start aching and his vision to go blurry. He was knocked off his feet, and a sharp ringing in his ears made him squeeze his eyes tight until it stopped. He could hear people shouting... but they all sounded miles away.

Anakin took a sharp breath and sat up straight, blinking rapidly as the scenery started to take shape around him again. Everything was a lot darker than it was before, and a lot more devoid of color, too. He rapidly moved his head around. This was certainly not the flat field he was fighting in before.

“Obi-Wan?” Ankain called out. Nothing. “Rex?” He tried again, louder this time. Still nothing. “Ahsoka?!” It felt like he was screaming into a pillow. He thought he heard someone yell his name back to him, but everything still sounded muffled. Was he in some kind of alternate dimension? Could the Separatists do something like that? Was he dead?

“Anakin?”

A clear voice shook him from his trance.

“Jayla? Is that you?” he yelled back. Anakin couldn’t discern any of his surroundings, much less where the voice was coming from. The more he strained his eyes, the heavier the weight of the world felt around him.

“Anakin? Anakin! Are you okay? What happ... holy kriff.”

It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing. Jayla, the best friend he had known forever, the one who was small enough to curl up in the palm of his hand, was standing right in front of him.

Right at eye level.

“Anakin... what...” she started, almost too afraid to move closer. If Anakin thought he was hallucinating, Jayla certainly had him beat. But the blue weapon... its strange energy... it all made sense now.

“Jayla? Why are you... how...”

“Anakin... it’s not me.” Jayla could barely get her words out. “That weapon... it… you’re...”

“Are you saying that weapon shrunk me?!”

Jayla flinched. Even at such a diminished height, seeing Anakin get mad was concerning. He scrambled to his feet, and suddenly everything became clear. It was dark because he was surrounded by tall grass. He felt anxious because the sheer size of everything around him was weighing down on him heavily. Those voices sounded far away because they were.

Jayla cringed at the panic that was clearly engulfing Anakin. She could marvel at this later. Right now, she needed to help.

“Ani... you need to calm down,” she said softly, slowly making her way over to him. Okay, maybe she could marvel a little bit. He looked so different up close. So much... older, and worn down.

“You want me to be calm when I’m stuck like this?” he cried, throwing his hands up. Up. Up was so far away now. Treetops that were once a leap away were now impossibly out of reach. “What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to fight? Is this size permanent?”

“First of all, I resent all of that. Second, we need to find Obi-Wan and get back Coruscant so we can--”

“Obi-Wan?! No. No way.”

“Are you kidding? Please don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

“More like embarrassed,” Anakin sighed, rubbing his eyes. “He can’t--I don’t want him to see me like this!”

“Oh, you’d rather make this awful muddy field on this backwater planet your permanent home, then?”

Anakin sighed. She was right, but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow.

“The sooner we get off this planet, the quicker we can… fix you,” Jayla said. “It’s freaking me out too, you know.”

“How do you live like this?” Anakin asked. “I mean, I’ve always wondered, but actually experiencing it...”

“Please,” Jayla rolled her eyes. “It’s been like two minutes.”

“So? That’s way more experience than I ever thought I’d get.” Anakin took a moment to look himself over. He was still holding his lightsaber and his clothes had shrunken with him, so that was a positive. He felt normal, albeit a little dazed. He could still walk, talk, breathe. Everything was fine. He was just... tiny.

“How are we supposed to get to Obi-Wan from down here?” Anakin asked, completely serious. Jayla stared at him as she held her arm up and pointed to her wrist comm.

“Oh. Right,” Anakin blushed.

“I think that weapon did some brain damage,” Jayla muttered as she turned the comm on. “Obi-Wan? Are you there?”

“Jayla? Where are you? Have you found Anakin?”

“Yeah, I found him…” she tapped a few buttons to transmit her location. “Just watch your step.”

“As always,” came Obi-Wan’s garbled voice before the comm beeped off.

“How long till he gets here?” Anakin asked, a tinge of panic to his voice as his eyes scanned the horizon.

“I don’t know,” Jayla shrugged. It was alarming how strongly she could sense his fear. “Look… it’s gonna feel really overwhelming, having another person loom over you. But don’t worry, you just have to--”

“--I feel fine,” Anakin grumbled.

“I know for a fact that you don’t.”

Anakin looked at Jayla, and he finally took in what was in front of him. From his normal perspective, she usually looked spry, alert and energetic. He had never noticed the scratches on her face and the bruises on her legs before. Her blue eyes were the brightest thing in this dingy atmosphere. She was way more muscular than he would have ever guessed.

“I’m taller than you.”

Jayla blinked. “What?”

“Even when we’re on the same scale, I still got a few inches on you.”

“You are actually unbelievable,” Jayla shook her head, biting back a smile. She stared at Anakin for a few moments, neither of them needing words to say what they were thinking. Her stomach dropped, though, when a long shadow passed over them and Anakin’s eyes grew wide.

“Jayla?” Obi-Wan took a knee high above them. Anakin gulped. “Where’s Anakin?”

Jayla didn’t say anything; she just glanced to her side, where Anakin was frozen in place. It took Obi-Wan a moment, but when he saw, he gasped.

“Anakin! What in the -- what happened?”

“It was that Separatist weapon,” Jayla answered, knowing Anakin wasn’t going to speak. “The bright blue one.”

“That’s impossible… how could they have developed technology like this?”

“I have no idea. But we need to get out of here before they get anyone else.”

“I agree.” Obi-Wan couldn’t take his gaze off Anakin. Anakin was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. Wordlessly, he put his palm down next to the two.

“Let’s go,” Jayla said quietly, too soft for Obi-Wan to hear. Anakin glanced at her before warily walking to Obi-Wan’s open hand. He cringed when he stepped on.

“This is humiliating,” he mumbled.

“Grab the thumb. You’ll balance better.”

Anakin scoffed. “I am not touching his thumb.”

“Obi-Wan, Anakin refuses to touch your thumb,” Jayla said, holding back a laugh.

“Well, I hope you have good balance,” Obi-Wan said, trying his hardest not to smile at the sight of Anakin nearly falling over when he began to stand. “I must say, Anakin, you look adorable down there.”

Anakin glowered at him with the ferocity of a thousand suns, and this time, Jayla couldn’t hold back.

“Ani, you really need to relax,” she said between giggles. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re very adorable at all.”

“I hate both of you,” Anakin sneered. “So much.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

As they made their way back to base, Anakin finally got over himself and leaned over Obi-Wan’s thumb like a railing as the field he once ran through with ease whizzed by.

“What’cha thinking?” Jayla asked, scooting up next to him.

Anakin smirked. “I can’t fly my ship anymore.”

“Hey, I don’t even know how to fly!”

“Everyone’s gonna see me like this. Rex, Ahsoka, the council…”

“Trust me, the council isn’t nearly as imposing as you would think.”

“...I’m gonna have to tell Padmé.”

“Oh.” Jayla cleared her throat. “Yeah, that one might be awkward.”

Anakin said nothing. Jayla slid closer, rubbing shoulders with her friend. Obi-Wan glanced down, trying to make out what they were saying.

“Someone’ll fix this,” she reassured. “I don’t know who, but the Seps wouldn’t have done this without having a way to reverse it.”

“Oh, good. Let’s just find Dooku and politely ask him to make me normal again!” Anakin snapped.

Jayla looked away. There really was no getting through to him when he was upset about something. Only this time, it wasn’t so easy to ignore him. He was right here with her. It suddenly hit her why she felt so uncomfortable -- she had never been in a position to truly console anyone. Sure, she offered wisdom and support when it was needed, but she always got the feeling that her advice didn’t carry the same weight as it would if she were a normal height. Normal. She really wished Anakin wouldn’t use that word.

Anakin stole a glance at Jayla. Maybe being snide with her wasn’t the best idea when she was all he had down here.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “This is just… this is a lot to deal with.”

“I know,” Jayla sighed. “I shouldn’t tease you.”

“Eh, I deserve it,” Anakin said. “We all know I never let up on you.”

Jayla huffed a laugh. “Yeah.” There was a long pause before it was clear that neither side was going to continue the conversation. Slowly, Jayla wrapped her arm around Anakin’s shoulders and squeezed.

“It’ll be alright,” she whispered. Anakin put the lightsaber he didn’t even realize he was holding back on his belt before reciprocating her gesture. Jayla smirked. “Wow. So this is what it feels like.”

“What what feels like?”

“A hug.”

Anakin turned to her, surprised. “A hug?”

“Would it surprise you to know that I have never once been hugged?”

“Well, yeah, it would,” Anakin said, looking hurt. “Because you tell me everything.”

“I tell you the things you’ll understand,” she corrected. “Being tiny in a giant world means you have to be okay with missing out on basic human experiences. Things like, hugs and holding hands and sitting in a chair around a big table eating dinner together. Just… talking to someone, without constantly being on edge and feeling like you’re being watched.” Jayla fell silent for a moment. “I know it’s wrong to say, but, I’m glad you’re here with me. Like this. It feels… a little less lonely.”

“Even if we’re being carried around by Obi-Wan on a gross Outer Rim planet?”

Jayla snickered. “Especially that. You don’t think this is familiar territory? I’ve fallen asleep more times in this hand than you have next to Padmé--”

“Alright, I get it,” Anakin cut her off, his face a light shade of red. “I wish I had picked up on it. A-about you feeling so… isolated.”

Jayla shrugged. “I do a good job of hiding it. There’s nothing you would have been able to do, anyway. Hugging a finger is nothing like… well…” She let out a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

“No, no. I’m glad you did.” Anakin smiled. “It feels like I’m talking to a completely different person. You’ve been my best friend since I started training, and it’s like I’m just meeting you for the first time.”

“Well, I hope you really like me, ‘cause this is what you’ll be stuck with for a while.”

“I’m gonna have to find a new nickname for you that’s not Tiny.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t want you using all your brainpower on me! You need to save it for other things. Like Force jumping from the floor to the table instead of from the ground to the top of a kriffing mountain.”

Anakin opened his mouth to retaliate, but didn’t get the chance before Obi-Wan stopped walking. “This is our stop, kids,” he teased. He immediately made eye contact with a frantic Rex and waved him over.

“General Kenobi! Did you find--” Rex stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was in Obi-Wan’s palm. “Um. Sir...”

“Don’t look so surprised, Rex!” Anakin called out, trying to ignore just how big he was. “I’m trying out a new look.”

“Sir…” Rex said again, unable to tear his eyes away. He had finally gotten used to Jayla being around. He couldn’t do it all over again.

“Staring is rude, Captain,” Obi-Wan remarked, sensing Anakin’s discomfort. Rex pursed his lips and quickly looked away. “We’re going to take my starship back up to the Resolute. I suggest you round up the 501st and tell General Yularen that we’re heading back to Coruscant.”

“Yes, sir, right away, sir,” Rex stammered. He spun around on his heels and jogged away to meet his men.

“Well,” Anakin said. “That was awkward.”

Jayla huffed. “Welcome to the tiny experience.”

“Master!” another voice called out. This one belonged to Ahsoka, who had only caught a fraction of what Rex was trying to explain before deciding she had to see it for herself. She was panicking that nobody had been able to find Anakin after he jumped in front of that weapon. Rex had said something about him being with Obi-Wan… but she didn’t see him. Yet.

“Anakin!” she said in shock when she finally saw. She bent down, wide-eyed, and Anakin appreciated the fact that she wasn’t just gawking mindlessly. “What happened?”

“Some sort of new Separatist weapon,” Anakin answered before mumbling, “I’m really gonna hate having to say that a thousand times.”

Jayla glanced up behind her back as Ahsoka fired off questions. The usually snippy Obi-Wan had been surprisingly devoid of quips about Anakin being smaller than a Zilkin. Something was not right here.

“Ahsoka,” Jayla cut in, noticing how irritated Anakin was beginning to look. “Why don’t we go and get Anakin’s starship back up to the destroyer? Since, you know, he can’t do it himself.”

“Funny, you just said “we” there, and last time I checked, you can’t fly either,” Anakin joked.

Jayla smirked. “Oh but see, the difference there is that I don’t care.” She flashed one last mocking smile at Anakin before jumping off Obi-Wan’s hand and landing perfectly on Ahsoka’s shoulder. Anakin stared in disbelief. That leap looked impossibly far.

“Will you be okay, master?” Ahsoka asked, sensing Anakin’s anxiety. He nodded without a word. Ahsoka knew it was time to leave.

Obi-Wan waited until the ship was a speck in the sky before turning his attention fully on the tiny Jedi knight in his hand.

“You’re very anxious, Anakin.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Gee, and why would that be, master?”

“I just mean…” Obi-Wan sighed. It was rare for him to be at a loss for words. “I’m worried. This is completely uncharted territory. I don’t have an inkling as to how the Separatists would have made a weapon like this. There might not be a solution.”

“Yes, there is,” Anakin shot back. “We are going to find a way to fix this. I don’t care what it takes. I’m not staying like this forever.”

“Anakin--”

“What, Obi-Wan? What do you want me to say? That Jayla can live like this, so why can’t I? She’s lived like this forever. I… I haven’t. And I can’t. They need me.”

“They?”

“Rex! Ahsoka! The 501st! Jayla! You! I can’t be who I need to be if this is what I am.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip. Fear and distress were clouding Anakin’s rationality.

“Anakin, listen to me. We are going to do everything in our power to get you back to normal. That I can assure you. But you need to stay calm. It could take days, it could take months. We simply don’t know. But if you let this consume you, you’ll be going down a dark path.”

Anakin crossed his arms, acting like he wasn’t listening to a word of what Obi-Wan was saying. He was right. Anakin was afraid. And pretending not to be afraid was even worse than feeling afraid in the first place. Right now, he couldn’t be more grateful to have someone like Jayla on his side.

“Let’s get back to the destroyer,” Obi-Wan said once he felt Anakin’s shaking subside. “We can get started in the medical bay.”

Anakin sighed and sat down, ready to embrace the weirdness of leaning on someone else’s fingers.

It was going to be a long trip back to Coruscant.

#this was so much fun to write #i have never done size swap before or anything of the like and now i think im obsessed #such interesting things to explore #also wow i dont normally end stories on such dour notes but #im in my feels today #star wars g/t #obwrites

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Grounded: Level 5

Level 4 | Level 6

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526 @lolwhatameme @felixn-recs @yunapixie

[D E C E M B E R 2 0 1 9]

Your hands fly up to your face when you can hear the first few beats of the song they were supposed to perform at the KBS Song Festival. Of all songs to choose, they had to choose just one of the most iconic debut songs of all time?

As usual, Beomgyu was fitted right into the centre, because where else would he fit better? And Taehyun was given the opening line and then Kai pops out from nowhere looking like a toy poodle with that hairdo of his. Then our favourite bunny leader finally shows up-

And of course, Yeonjun gets the chorus, as he does the dance break where he winks into the camera. The tiny, version of you is struggling to pick up the million pieces your heart had just shattered into in your chest.

“Yah, Yeonjun is so cool-” Minjung coos about it to So Eun.

“How in the world did he manage to maintain his top trainee ranks?” Another trainee, Gahyun, leans back in the sofa you were previously sitting on, fiddling with the string from her hoodie. “We take turn to kiss the top before sliding back down.”

The group of female trainees laugh boisterously, but you are caught up in the likes of Yeonjun, and Yeonjun only. How lucky did you have to be to get into this company, the one only made popular recently because of BTS, and became known as ‘Yeonjun’s favourite female trainee’?

“y/n, would you sit down?” Gahyun gets up just to tug on your shirt, pulling you back to the couch.

“Why’d you interrupt her? Couldn’t you see she was whipped?” Minjung snickers, interlocking her arm with yours and leaning her head on your shoulder. “As much as I ship you and Yeonjun together, aren’t you afraid BigHit’s going to screw with you for being so close to his new money-making machine?”

“What?” You look down at Minjung, the maknae of the group you debut in. She’s three years younger and she’s nothing but a baby. "Whoever said anything’s gonna happen?”

Gahyun scoffs from the side, raising a teasing brow at you. “Maybe not now but in the future? Please.”

“But didn’t y/n have something going on with Lee Know from Stray Kids?” So Eun peels open a salad box and shoves a fork of salad and chicken into her mouth.

Min Jung gasps, eyes widening and mouth open. “You had something with Lee Know? Like- the main dancer of Stray Kids?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Gahyun raises a brow.

“No, I had something for Lee Know, and I’m through with it.”

Minjung pouts and leans her head against your shoulder again. Ju Rin (who would be your leader) walks into the room before anybody else can say anything.

“Why’d you stop?” She lays some packs of drinks on the table. “I heard something about Lee Know.”

“Am I the only person who doesn’t know anything about this-” Minjung frowns and nudges you, arm still linked in yours.

“Yes,” So Eun mumbles through a full mouth of salad and chicken.

“What? Why?” The maknae whines, and Gahyun pulls you over for her to note one of your group practices.

“Fewer people knowing equals less risk,” Ju Rin sucks in a deep breath. There’s a gentle wheeze because one of her nostrils is blocked from the air-conditioning in the room. “I don’t think it’ll be wise if people know of their relationship before we even debut.”

“But what was it like? Why does it sound like... you fell out with him?” Minjung’s soft voice tugs on all the heartstrings in your chest.

Gahyun, Ju Rin and So Eun fall silent, with Gahyun looking up from the screen to you.

Ju Rin shoves her hands into her pockets. “You don’t need to tell her if you don’t want to.”

Minjung pouts, earning your attention despite Ju Rin’s defense.

“That’s because we did. After he debuted, we no longer texted or hung out as much. I was mad and said some stuff... and since then we haven’t really had a proper conversation.”

“What?” Minjung finally sits up and pulls away from you. “Wait a minute, didn’t you visit Stray Kids with Yeonjun in August?”

“We did but... It was still kind of awkward. Not much was done besides us giving them a fruit basket.”

“I hate to butt in and say this but...” Gahyun locks her phone and leans back into the couch, turning her head to you. “It might’ve been for the best. He’s debuted and you’re set to debut soon. The last thing you would want is to get into a scandal with him.”

“I know,” Your eyes travel down to your hands. You’ve peeled a piece of skin too far up the cuticle of your finger, and the blood’s smudged a little, enticing you to shove it into your mouth to get rid of the redness. The metallic taste of your own blood stings your taste buds, but not as much as the truth is stinging your gut. “That’s why I’m not doing anything.”

There is a hair-raising silence in the air that’s packed with awkwardness - nobody knows what to say. So, thank God TXT bursts through the room after their performance, sweat in their hair and their microphones being peeled off their cheeks.

“Well, well, well, looks who’s back!” Gahyun lifts a hand and does one of those bro handshakes with Taehyun. “High notes for days, man.”

“There’s a reason why I scored an A for vocals, you know,” Taehyun rolls the microphone wire around the pack and hands it to the staff.

“Subtle flex but alright,” Gahyun snickers. Yeonjun hands his microphone pack to one of the staff members, and he turns to you, shaking his head and again showing his disapproval of his own performance.

“Why? You did well.”

“Nah,” He shakes his head and pats Minjung’s head. “Could’ve been better.”

“Whaaaat?” Someone should start counting how many times Minjung says ‘what’ today. “Who are you kidding?”

“Who are you kidding?” Soobin finally chimes in after pulling his jacket off. “Improvement’s great but there’s no reason to harp over a performance that’s already done.”

“I’d correct you there, but I’m too tired to get engaged in a discussion with you.”

Soobin grins in response. Minjung starts swooning about their performance while you listen to Ju Rin, Gahyun and So Eun fight with Beom about something stupid.

“Hey, um,” He calls out to you after some time, Yeonjun making sure that nobody was really eyeing the two of you. “Could I have some time?”

Chicken. That’s what your heart is now. A headless chicken running around in your chest and if it were possible, screaming.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” A gentle frown is bestowed upon the space between your brows. Yeonjun turns on his heels as you get up from the couch, eyes scanning the room and only one person meets eyes with you.

Ju Rin eyes are gentle, but full of caution. Do not do anything stupid, her eyes say.

By the time Yeonjun’s gotten you to a corner of the floor where there was nobody around and no camera in sight, you’ve already run into half the groups that were performing today. You even ran into Hyunjin on the way, who does nothing but politely greet Yeonjun and squint at you instead.

But there was no doubt - your heart is racing and ramming so hard against the inner walls of your ribcage that would’ve been enough to fracture a rib. Sweaty palms and a damp back calls for an uneasy flapping of your top around your neck, absentmindedly wiping your hands against the pockets of your shorts.

“What is it?” Shoving your hands into your pockets, you can only hope he doesn’t notice you’re shaking.

Yeonjun peers over your shoulder to look behind you, though he doesnt’t really need to put in any effort to do so. After making sure nobody was around, he looks down at you, only because his eyes are easily a palm’s worth taller than you, probably more.

“Look, I just... I just wanted you to know that I am so grateful to have you in my life... I don’t think I could’ve done it so easily without you.”

What is this? A confession? No, it can’t be. Yeonjun’s not the type to risk his career for love - or is he? What’s he going to say? Hell, what am I going to say? I’m not prepared for this.

“I just wanted to tell you in person, in private that-”

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

“You’re one of my best friends; you’re like a sister to me and I just... there’s nothing I could do to show you how much I appreciate you...”

His words have faded out. Your heart has stopped, simply from the exhilarating pot of emotions that’s completely died.

This wasn’t the plan. He wasn’t supposed to friendzone me like this - no, sis-zone me.

“Uh, yeah.” The words. They are automatic. You are not processing them because they just slip off your tongue like a natural reaction. Your breathing’s shallow, but Yeonjun’s so far up in his cloud-nine that he doesn’t see it. “Of course. Anything for you. You’ve helped me through my training. It’ll be shit of me if I didn’t give back.”

You’re about to hurl, but he’s about to give you a hug he thinks would be healing, but you might just punch through a wall for being so foolish.

"Alright, I've said whatever I wanted to say. Man, it sure feels great to get these things off your chest."

Sure is.

Why didn't you see this? Why did you think he was going to confess? I am an absolute dumb piece of- low-life son of a-

"Hey," He calls out to you. He's already about a few metres from you, toes pointing to where you both came from. "You following or what?”

"Uh, I think I gotta use the washroom for abit."

"Oh," Yeonjun's shoulders sink a tiny bit. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm..." Your eyes wander off him, unable to maintain your gaze on him. It's unbearable, to know that you've played yourself so hard. "I'm fine. I just need to do a... number two."

Yeonjun winces, then cringes, then waves you off teasingly while half-jogging back to his own rehearsal room.

The walls of the corridor feel extra empty now, though they already are. The sunlight from behind you is heating up your back, because now you're feeling the cold, harsh reality of being the stupid on in all your dynamics. Grey streaks on white marbled floors reflect the fluorescent ceiling lights as you struggle to take a few steps to the washroom - not because you didn't want to go, but because you knew that once you were within the safety of 4 walls, nothing will stop the tears from running.

Stupid, wishful, hopeful dreaming.

The plastic toilet seat clanks against the ceramic bowl when you sit down, and leaning your forearms on your thighs, you force some breaths in before the tears seep out. You have to be quiet though, lest you want half the K-Pop industry to realise you've officially clowned yourself.

The tears finally kiss the floor. One drop, then two and three and four and your palm is over your mouth to stop the sobs from escaping your lips. But a creak of the toilet door shuts you up even more, though the hiccups from the sobbing's still making you emit more noise, against your wish.

The footsteps are light and careful, and you can hear the person push the doors of the other cubicles open. The unknown person tries your door and falters, feet remaining right outside the cubicle you are in. Tear stained hands of yours quickly wipe your face and cover your mouth before you can let another squeaky sob out, but nothing will prepare you for when you hear that voice.

"y/n?"

It’s a split second before you surge for the door and unlock it, eyes flooded with tears threatening to dribble over your lower lids. There’s a slight surprise in his face as his eyes widen an almost-unnoticeable amount. Then it’s replaced with empathy, which is strange because Minho’s been so caught up in chasing his dreams that you don’t think he’s felt this kind of heartbreak before, falling in love with someone who doesn’t know you’re in love with them.

He doesn’t say anything before he drags you into his arms, palm resting on the back of your head, patting the space between your shoulder blades.

It echoes through the washroom, the sobs, drowning you more in your sorrows than you’re already providing yourself. The vicious cycle is only dampened as your tears no longer hit the floor, and instead creates a darker shade of material on his shoulder where your head was resting.

“It’s okay,” For the first time in almost two years, Minho isn’t upset or unpleasantly surprised at your presence.

It’s not the comfort his voice provides, it’s the comfort his voice brings that makes you erupt even more.

“I’m here.”

[J A N U A R Y 2 0 2 0]

The uncle that mans the honey-glazed apple store of the night market back home couldn’t be happier to see the two of you. It’s a surprise he could still make out who you were under the snow-covered caps and masks and haphazardly-thrown-together winter clothes. (Which deemed your disguise horrible.)

You could tell Minho was smiling because his eyes creased under the shade of the cap as the elderly man leans over the stand. He hands you the apples and cups the side of his mouth with his palm, whispering, “You have no idea how many people have come by asking if this is the stall Stray Kids Lee Know buys his honey-glazed apples from.”

“How do people even sieve out this information?” Minho chortles, taking the apples.

“Beats me, the younger generation is scary nowadays,” He pulls away and pulls more apples out from the ice box under the stand. “Especially with their gadgets and all.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” The words are slightly muffled by the mask, but you manage to get your point across. “We’ll come back soon.”

“Come back when you’ve debuted! It’s been so long, why haven’t I seen you on TV?” He frowns, and the lines on his face become accentuated. You can’t tell if the creases highlighted his wrinkles or it was the other way round.

“I’ve just been training, ahjusshi, I still have a long way to go.”

“What’s your role gonna be?” He points to you, and his finger is trembling because that’s how old he is. “This rascal’s like- a dancer or something, right?”

“‘A dancer or something’, ha!” You snort, nudging Minho in his side, who grunts upon the physical contact. “I’ll be listed as a main dancer too. I thought I’d be the leader because I’m pretty old to debut compared to the kids nowadays but there’s someone else older and more mature.”

“You? Leader?” Minho sneers with a full mouth. “Please.”

The store holder smiles, only to be jolted out of his dream of his two self-proclaimed children when someone else comes by.

“You two better beat it,” He squints at the two of you, helping you leave quietly without unwanted suspicion. “I’ll see you soon.”

Minho waves at him, and you happily sing out a “Bye!” since nobody would recognise your voice.

You could swear that there were people who took a double take at your company, but Minho was so pre-occupied with his dessert that it doesn’t give the passerbys enough time to process who he was.

“So, what’s next?” You pull your mask down to munch on the apple, as Minho quickly pulls his mask back up when he notices more people taking second glances.

“Well, we are releasing English versions of Levanter and Double Knot later this month...” A pause as he struggles to remember his own schedule. “And then a Japanese release of the same songs in March.”

Laughing the last few words off, he knows how absurd it sounds, though he knows its for the benefit of the group.

“Damn,” You snort through your nose and the vapour through the mask still manages to forms a cloud that you walk through. “Y’all turning into Mr. Worldwide now.”

Minho chuckles under his breath, gently shaking his head.

There’s an overwhelming taste of nostalgia on your tongue when you notice the snow getting heavier as you walk to the bus stop, the crowd finally tailing off. The cap manages to protect your eyes from the falling snow, but some still manage to get onto Minho’s lashes as he frantically blinks and groans adorably, rubbing his eyes to get them out.

You smile ever so slightly under the mask, though he can’t see it. The snow looks like gold flakes as it drizzles in the distance; around the amber-lit lamp across the road. Cars, vans, trucks drive past and time feels like it doesn’t exist for a split second. Minho stays still next to you, head gently turning to take in the view around him.

“February 2016,” Loud enough to get through the mask, he manages. “And it’s already January 2020.”

“Wow, thanks for reminding me that I’ve put up with your shit for so long,” Shoving your gloved hands into the pockets of your coat, you roll your eyes to look at him.

The chuckle he emits sounds like bells during Christmas. “Do you remember what happened that day?”

“Mhm,” Your eyes fall to the floor, snow already thinly coating your boots. “How could I not?”

“You know... I auditioned for Cube, and got rejected that day,” A pause. Looking at him from the corner of your eyes, you don’t tell him you saw the email. “If you weren’t there with me, I don’t think I could’ve held myself together. I thought that was it. I thought... I had no other chance.”

A car whirs past, the mixture of crunch of snow and slush of water when it drives past cues him to pause again. Maybe he was telling himself not to cry.

“But then you were there with me, and I don’t think anything else could’ve held me together as well. I just thought I couldn’t break down infront of you. You and the rest of the crew needed me, and I couldn’t stop then.”

The twitch in your forehead tells you that you are complete shit at holding yourself together. You had to blink the tears out from your eyes before they threatened to fall over and dampen the rim of your mask. There’s that silence in the air again, but it’s warm and cozy despite the snow. It’s like the time you’ve spent away from him has been compensated in these two months. It’s like nothing has changed, even though the world around you has.

“Thank you. For being there when you didn’t need to...”

A pause. You’re terrified to look at him because you know he’s looking at you.

“And I’m sorry for treating you like you meant nothing to me, because you mean alot.”

#lee know scenarios #lee know #stray kids scenarios #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz lee know #skz #skz scenarios

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fallingstarnovel · 3 years

Text

Chapter Five

The rest of the day just kept going and going. Someone called the paramedics for the cut on his leg, and he had to be taken to hospital to get stitches. The nice woman who ran over to him took his student ID and went over to the exam room to explain that he couldn’t make it. He had no idea if the university would let him re-sit the exam later. He sure hoped so.

"I have to sit my exam," he said anxiously as he waited for the paramedics to arrive. "I can't fail my module. My grade average is already ruined."

The lady shook her head. "You're just going to bleed all over the carpets, and the shock will hit you soon, and then you'll fail anyway. Now give me your ID."

He meekly gave her the ID.

The police questioned him, and he tried to explain what happened, but it sounded weird and muddy to his own ears. How could he explain what happened when he didn’t even know if it was all a hallucination or not?

After all, stress made people do and see weird things. He hadn’t seen Ruth again after that first time. And there was no way he could say to the police that he was rescued by an angel who called himself Ruth.

Maybe he hit his head. Maybe he was hallucinating.

He asked the doctor at the hospital to check his head for injuries, but she said he was incredibly lucky and was completely unharmed. Even the cut on his leg wasn’t too deep.

One taxi ride home, and he was sitting in his living room. Alone.

There wasn't really anyone he could talk to about this. He didn't want to bother Aliya, because she thought he was the fun, good vibes friend, and he didn't want her to think he was a bother. Obviously he didn't have anyone at home he could call. His housemates had all abandoned him. Not intentionally, but still.

Evan sat by himself in his quiet living room in his empty house and kept his hands to himself, and wondered.

There was only one person left, right?

> hey ruth so um...

> weird question. did today happen

Which part? <

> the part where i almost got flattened by a truck?

Oh. Yes. <

Are you feeling alright? <

> yeah um a bit shaky and just weird uhh

> you know when you just Feel Weird

> i'm feeling it

Make sure you eat something sugary and wrap up warm. Do you want to call? <

Ruth was always so nice. The familiar guilt was building at the back of Evan's brain, reminding him that he needed to stop being such a burden on other people, but technically this wasn't him looking for support.

He just wanted to confirm that this guy was actually an angel, not a hallucination. That was all.

He did see those glowing white wings and that sunny halo lighting him from behind like some kind of Renaissance painting, but that could just have been random neurons firing in his brain. Right? He needed to check.

> that would be nice

> call me whenever

A minute later, his phone started vibrating. He answered quickly.

"... Ruth?"

"Evan. Are you sure you're okay?"

Evan looked down at his injured leg, which was bobbing up and down rapidly. It hurt, but he couldn't stop it from happening even if he tried. He felt cold. "Hmm. Still a little weird."

"Go get some food. I'll still be here," Ruth said gently, and Evan obediently got up and went to the kitchen to make himself a jam sandwich.

"Ruth..." he said hesitantly, putting his phone on speaker. "Now. Correct me if what I'm saying sounds insane. But did you..."

"Did I...?"

Evan shut his mouth. It sounded too insane to say "hey, bro, did you grow a pair of wings today?". "Nothing. I just wanted to thank you for saving me again. This is like, the third time, right?"

"I'm not keeping count," Ruth replied earnestly. "I'm just glad you're safe."

So, so nice. Evan felt even more guilty. He didn't know what he had done to deserve this kind of kindness. "Well, anyway, I was really lucky that you were around."

"Maybe. I don't really believe in luck."

That was definitely something an angel would say, right? Angels flew around doing good deeds with big white flappy wings, didn't they?

"What do you believe in?" Evan asked without thinking, before catching himself. "Wait, I'm sorry, that was weird. You don't have to answer."

"No, it's alright," Ruth replied. He laughed, and his voice was low and melodic, pealing like church bells on a Sunday morning. "I believe... I believe that we hold a lot more control over things like luck and fate and coincidence than we believe. I would go so far as to say that we make our own luck."

Could angels make luck? Maybe they had a lucky energy field around them. That would make sense. They were supposed to be good. Evan hummed thoughtfully.

"What happened today... do you think that maybe... it was because of the bad luck curse mark?"

"It's very possible," Ruth said.

"Shit. Really? But it almost killed me! That was more than bad luck! If you hadn't saved me, I would have died!" Evan heard his own voice getting a little hysterical. He was allowed to be hysterical. He almost got turned into meat paste. "What if it happens again? What next? What if I'm walking along and a piano drops out of the sky and kills me? What if I choke on a peanut?"

"Don't eat any peanuts," Ruth said, which made Evan burst into incredulous laughter.

"Seriously?"

"No. But if you're scared... I can come with you next time you go out. To keep you safe. From falling pianos."

Was Evan scared? He wasn't sure. But for some reason, hearing Ruth say that eased some of the tense feeling boiling in his stomach.

There was a comfortable silence. He felt like he had a little more space to breathe now, somehow.

"Thanks, Ruth. I feel a lot better now after talking to someone. And eating this sandwich."

"Are you going to be okay by yourself?"

Evan snorted. He had to be okay by himself. It wasn't like there was anyone here to take care of him. "Yeah, I think I'll manage to tuck myself into bed with a hot drink and a blanket."

"No, really," Ruth said, "if you need someone. Any time, anywhere. You have my number. Just give me a call, and I'll answer."

"... Sure. Thanks."

"It's alright."

Evan sighed. "I'll be okay. For real. You don't need to worry about me."

"I will anyway. Good night."

"Good night."

After they hung up, Evan once again wondered what happened that night when Ruth brought him home. It was mortifying to imagine what he might have said and done when he was black out drunk, but clearly it wasn't a deal-breaker for Ruth, because he was still around. Being nice.

Being angelic, even.

Evan cleaned himself up for the night. He did his usual check of the house, making sure the windows in the empty bedrooms were closed and all the doors were locked, before settling into his bed.

He switched off his light. On the ceiling, a galaxy of glow-in-the-dark stars lit up with a soft green glow.

There was so much he had to worry about. There were exams to rearrange. He got blood on his lucky socks. He had to book an appointment with the neurologist to check for damage. He still had a bunch of group projects he needed to work on.

When he closed his eyes to sleep, all he could see was the side of the truck tipping sideways, hundreds of pounds of steel that would have smashed him into tiny little chunks of meat.

He opened his eyes again.

He was fine. He wasn't mincemeat. He wasn't in the hospital morgue. He was in his own bed, safe and sound, with only a slight scratch on his leg to show for it.

Evan rolled over and tried to sleep, but the accident played in his mind again.

That black cat had shown up at two accidents now. He couldn't remember if seeing a black cat was meant to be good luck or bad luck – he had heard both from different people. Was it trying to warn him about the accidents coming up? Or was it a terrible omen of death?

It was probably just a cat.

But then again, he thought Ruth was just a normal guy until recently.

When Evan went to sleep, he dreamed he was saving endless black cats from being run over by runaway trucks on a busy highway. Eventually, he dreamed of soft whispers and someone carrying him high, high up in the sky, tucked against someone's chest as the stars passed overhead one by one.

Over the weekend, Evan usually did chores. Today he needed to go food shopping, so he picked up his bags and left the house.

It was a long walk. He didn't realise how sore his leg was until now. It hurt every time the fabric of his trousers rubbed over the bandages on the cut on his leg. But he needed food, and nobody was going to buy it for him, so off he went.

He passed by the burned out church on the way there. He didn't know how it burned down, but it obviously happened a decade or so ago. The windows were empty and the church was completely hollow inside. In between the rubble, weeds and long grass were poking up. It was surrounded by tall buildings on all sides, hemming it into a claustrophobic box.

Evan wondered why it hadn't been knocked down and turned into flats yet.

After he finished getting all the food he needed, Evan had just left the shop when he recognised a familiar face across the car park. It was his lecturer, the one who always rambled for ten minutes at the start of class about different things he was interested in. He was an older man with grey hair and a goatee, like some kind of mad scientist. Evan supposed that when you were clever enough to teach atsrophysics at university, you were allowed to look however you wanted.

The lecturer spotted Evan. His eyes widened, and he walked over.

"It's you," he said as he got closer. "The student that almost got hit by a car."

"A truck," Evan corrected him politely. "Hello, Professor Bridgers."

Professor Bridgers' eyes widened even more. "Ye gods. A truck? How the hell are you still standing here?"

"It missed, sir."

"It missed! You're lucky!" The professor shuffled his shopping bag to his other hand and gave Evan an appraising look as if searching for hidden injuries. "Not a scratch?"

"Well, the storm grate scratched my leg when I was pulled out..."

"Storm grate? Pulled out? Your leg is hurt and you're walking on it?" The professor held out an imperious hand. "It's bad enough you had to miss your exam. Let me carry this home for you. You shouldn't be walking on an injury, or you'll end up missing my lectures, and I cannot abide a student skipping class because he was stupid enough to walk on an injured leg."

No matter how much Evan protested, the professor insisted. He ended up handing over his shopping bags, and together, they started walking back to Evan's house.

As they walked, he took a surreptitious glance at his lecturer. When he taught his classes, the professor dressed up in formal shirts and ties with extravagant waistcoats. Well, Evan thought he dressed up, but apparently that was just how the man dressed normally too.

Today his waistcoat was bright pink and covered in embroidered rainbow sheep. Evan rather liked it.

"Suppose they're sorting out your resits and whatnot in the administrator's office," the professor said suddenly. Evan nodded.

"They said they were going to arrange it for next month instead of the summer due to exceptional circumstances."

"Generous of them. They're probably used to lazy students making up hangoveritis symptoms – not used to boys being run over on their front door step."

Evan laughed. They lapsed into silence as they passed by the burned out church again. Feeling a little awkward about walking in silence with his teacher, Evan decided to make some conversation.

"Do you know how that church burned down?"

"What, you don't know?" the professor barked. Evan shook his head. "Really? Was the most interesting fire of the century. It was taken out by a meteor."

Evan stood stock still. He stared at the professor in shock. "What?"

"How old are you? You look about twelve. Were you old enough when the meteor fell over the city? Small thing or we wouldn't be here today. Was the luckiest set of coincidences in the world. Broke up as it hit the atmosphere, most of it burned up, but one teeny tiny little fragment landed right smack bang in the middle of the church. The heat of the explosion caused a raging fire." The professor looked thoughtful. "Lucky it was in the middle of the night and not a Sunday morning. Wouldn't have left a single survivor in there."

"This meteor..." Evan said slowly. "Was it about twelve years ago? And it made a huge noise... you could see it for miles..."

"So you do remember it," Professor Bridgers commented approvingly. "That's the one. Just before I started teaching. I was on the team that had to report to HQ that there was a non-zero chance the huge ball of rock rapidly approaching our atmosphere would wipe out half of Europe. Took us all by surprise. We tend to track all the asteroids that pass by in case they orbit around again and fall into our field of gravity. Plenty of near misses in the last few years. But that one came out of nowhere. Turned my hair grey overnight."

"Near misses?"

"Oh, plenty. Well, I say near, but that's still thousands or even millions of miles away from us. But near compared to... everything else."

Evan stared at the church for a long time, until the professor got impatient and started walking away, and he had to jog to catch up. He kept looking behind himself at the blackened walls and the empty windows.

"Professor, what do you think would happen if a bigger one hit us and it didn't break up in the atmosphere?"

The professor was silent for a moment. After a while, he said, "well, you better pray you're one of the lucky buggers standing under the blast site of where it hits."

"What? Why?"

"Bigger asteroids do more than destroy churches, my boy. You should already know this. Think about the dinosaurs."

Evan thought about the dinosaurs, and pressed his lips together. He felt stupid for forgetting. "Oh. I see."

When they got to Evan's house, Ruth was standing outside the front door, patiently waiting. He raised his eyebrows when he spotted Evan and his professor walking side by side, shopping bags piled into the old man's arms.

"Ruth? What are you doing here?" Evan asked, dumbfounded.

"I was worried about you," Ruth replied, as easy as breathing. It made Evan's face turn pink. "You shouldn't be walking on that leg."

"Finally, someone sensible," the professor said, handing the shopping bags over to Ruth.

Evan turned and thanked him over and over. The professor waved it away and walked off, but not before making a joke that if Evan got a bad mark on his resit exam, he knew where he lived.

Ruth stared after him as he walked away. "I told you you could call me if I needed help."

"I just ran into him and he wouldn't leave me alone," Evan said jokingly. "Look, I'm fine. Thanks for checking in on me."

Ruth turned to stare at him then. His eyes were unreadable, until he finally spoke up.

"I'm going to cook you dinner tonight."

"What? I can cook! My arms still work!"

"You should be resting. You had a terrible shock. Now let me inside."

Laughing and rolling his eyes, Evan decided to let Ruth inside, if only because he didn't have anything else planned for the evening.

Evan sat to the side as Ruth bustled around the kitchen. He pulled random things out of the drawers and started digging through Evan’s shopping bags, pulling out different vegetables and ingredients he had bought.

Evan watched him, feeling strange. Ruth had waited outside for him to come back. He didn’t even know where Ruth lived, and yet here he was, surprising him because he was worried, and now making a meal for him like it was nothing.

He couldn’t help but feel disconcerted. It wasn’t normal to be this nice. Nobody cared this much about a person they only just met. Evan rarely trusted people who were too nice to him - he didn’t understand why they would go out of their way to treat him well.

After all, he wasn’t anything special. He was a failing student and a lazy kid. He wasn’t especially interesting. In fact, Evan would describe himself as distressingly pedestrian.

There had to be some other motive at play here. Maybe Ruth was casing him out as a potential robbery victim. Maybe coming to his house and making friends with him was a long con, designed to lower his guard until - boom - Ruth whipped out a gun and demanded all his money in the bag, right now.

Well, maybe not.

Maybe Ruth was just lonely too. Maybe they were both two lonely guys who wanted an excuse to hang out together.

He just wanted to know what Ruth wanted from him.

“You know...” he began hesitantly. “You said that you liked helping people. I was just wondering... is that really why you keep hanging out with me? I just don’t want you to feel obligated to follow me around or anything...”

Ruth looked up from where he was chopping carrots into rough chunks. He gave Evan a winning smile, his dimples popping and giving him a very cute expression. “I don’t feel obligated. I like it. As long as you don’t mind me following you around sometimes, then it... it makes me happy."

"Following me around makes you happy?" Evan laughed in disbelief. "You must be the only person on Earth who can stand the sight of me. Give it a few weeks and see how you feel."

That cute dimpled smile froze. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Evan said, immediately feeling awkward. "Just kidding. Um, are you sure you don't want help cooking?"

Ruth had begun to chop potatoes. The trouble was that he was cutting them into lumpy, uneven shapes, unpeeled, and he had left all the little eyes and marks in the skin.

It was an unconventional way to chop potatoes.

"No," Ruth said eventually. He kept throwing glances sideways at Evan. "Why did you say that? Before, I mean."

"Just forget it, really. I was just joking around."

Ruth put a large pot on the stove top and lit the heat. Evan noted with some consternation that he didn't actually add any oil or water to the pot.

"Um, Ruth... what are you making...?"

"It's a surprise." Ruth shuffled in front of the pot to hide the contents. "Don't worry about it."

It didn't take long before the smell of burning carrot filled the kitchen. Evan opened a window before the smoke could set the fire alarm off. Just as he turned back, he saw Ruth pour a whole packet of pasta into the pot.

Speechless, he pretended he didn't see anything. It was incredibly difficult to remain silent. Ruth still wasn't adding any water. What kind of experimental god tier cooking technique was this?

"Stop peeking," Ruth said quickly. His face had turned pink and there was sweat starting to bead on his forehead.

Perhaps this wasn't a god tier cooking technique after all. In fact, Evan was beginning to suspect that Ruth had no idea what he was doing.

No, he had to have more faith! This would turn out great!

He forced himself to look away from the cooking process. "Alright, I won't peek, I won't peek. Just let me know if you need any help...?"

Ruth shook his head, making his curly hair bounce wildly around his face. "It's all under control."

The smoke alarm went off.

Extra:

[ruth voice] you let this man carry groceries for you??? you IGNORE ruth and solicit weird old men for help with your household tasks?? oh, pasta for evan! pasta for ten thousand years!

Previous Chapter | Contents | Next Chapter

#chapter

12 notes · View notes

roxa-sos · 4 years

Text

hurts to see you hurt - jj maybank

jj maybank x pogue!reader

tw; abuse, violence, sad jj :(

request; “can u do one..well I kinda like sad fics ...so y/n is new to the pogues and she goes to jjs house so he can teach her to surf, he doesn’t know she is coming and when she gets there she meets his dad. He is horrible to her and she freezes, all this time not knowing what jj went through, she manages to escape without jj noticing she was ever there. The next day she tries to get jj yo tell her what’s going on without him knowing she knows, as always he wants to stay strong and he denies anything, he has a crush on you and you haven’t expressed that you like him so he wants to stay cool in your eyes. You tell john b what his dad did to you and he helps you tell jj. Jj denies anything but then you pull him into a hug and he breaks down”

a/n -- can i be the ceo of only writing about jj? i literally have a john b fic i need to publish but i only have motivation for this bOy-

you’d finally found your people. the pogues. you just... you fit in with them. of course, you fit in in every way other than that you sucked at surfing.

jj had told you to meet him at his dad’s place. outside, next to the road. he’d told you that he had boards and enough surfing knowledge to keep you alive and getting better at surfing, so you agreed to meet him.

you agreed to meet that chaotic, blond ball of sunshine that was now one of your best friends.

he was nice - really nice, really nice to you. of course, he was nice to all of the pogues, and he might’ve just been hazing you in some weird pogue way, but he’d sort of been looking out for you for a while. you appreciated that from him. you liked being... noticed like that.

he deserved a little surprise from you, you figured you’d meet him inside his house. you were early, and a little wake up call would be kind of nice. at least, you figured. you made your way from the dirt road up to the house, going to knock on the door. you could meet his dad - that was a plus too.

his dad had to be some sort of saint to be putting up with someone as crazy as jj. but jj had decent morals, he was polite, selfless - it’d be a pleasure to meet his dad. jj probably perfectly mirrored him.

though, that wasn’t the type of man you were met by at the door.

“who the hell’re you supposed to be?” he stank of alcohol through the screen door. his voice was gruff, and he looked angry. if you looked at him a certain way, you thought he looked kind of like jj.

the man exited the house, meeting you outside rather than letting you in. that was strange, but you figured it was because you hadn’t introduced yourself yet.

something just felt off though.

“hey, sir, uh, i’m y/n. i’m a friend of jj’s.” you introduced yourself, giving him a sweet smile. the kind you used on jj himself when you first met him.

“damn kid, he invited you over here? got you prancing around following him?” the man chuckled, which made you take a step back. talking to him was like talking to some sort of psycho that liked kicking puppies.

you didn’t speak, you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t feel like you were supposed to meet him at all. this was a mistake.

“i-” you began, trying to keep the man cool.

“no, no, i don’t want to fucking hear it. take it up with your fuckin’ friends. you hear me?” he was practically screaming, getting his face all in yours.

he smelled like he hadn’t taken a damn shower in weeks. he was obviously drunk, but who got drunk at nine in the morning?

you didn’t have the courage to take another step back, even though your whole body was screaming at you to run.

“get off of my damn property!” he spat, raising his hand in a fist.

that was when you got the burst of adrenaline that let you pivot on your heel, barely feeling the gush of air that came from his fist barely grazing your head. you booked it down the driveway, down the road, and you ran until you couldn’t anymore. he didn’t follow you - you didn’t expect him to unless he was a real psychopath.

what you did hear, though, was more screaming coming from that man.

and it could only be directed at one person, because you knew jj’s mom wasn’t around.

-----

the next night, hanging out in john b’s yard, you couldn’t get the image from the morning before out of your head. god, it was terrifying. jj was in the hammock, a few feet away from you, john b, kie, and pope. you got up from where you were sitting, eyes still on the boy. he was throwing rocks at tree branches, he was distant. he was like that sometimes - you just hadn’t realized until then.

nobody questioned you moving, nobody questioned you walking over to the hammock.

you sank down into it across from jj, one of your legs hanging off of the side of it.

“what’s up?” he was quick to ask you what you were doing over there, not looking away from the tree he was throwing rocks at.

you two had already had the awkward conversation as to why you hadn’t been outside of his house the morning before. you said you slept in late and missed it, no big deal. he even thought it was kind of funny, which was a plus in your mind.

“nothing, nothing.” you brushed off the thoughts in your head, trying to figure out how to talk to him now that you... knew things. “how’s living with your dad?” you asked, quickly making the question seem nonchalant. “ ‘cause i’m trying to figure out who’s couch i can crash on tonight. get a change of pace from john b’s place, but my house is chaotic.”

“oh, it’s fine. my dad’s a mess, you don’t want to sleep there. i’ll be here tonight anyways.” his eyes met yours for a second when you mentioned his dad, and he’d looked worried. he obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but that wasn’t going to stop you.

you didn’t know why, but you needed to know what was going on.

“i’m sure it isn’t that bad.” you cringed at your own words, because where you were replying to him saying his dad was messy, you knew his dad was mean. and you couldn’t bring yourself to say that his dad’s abuse wasn’t ‘that bad’.

“okay, he’s a little more than messy, but he’s loud, so you don’t want to meet him.” jj had run out of rocks to throw, but he still wouldn’t make eye contact with you. he was almost facing away.

“loud? like he... yells at you?” you poked more, leaning over to try to get him to look at you. that caught his attention, and he moved his head so that he could see you. and you looked concerned, and he hated it.

“no, no. he’s fine. it’s fine, you just shouldn’t be around him.” jj didn’t want to talk about it. “and it doesn’t matter. it’s fine.”

“okay, the more you say ‘it’s fine’ makes me think it’s worse-”

“y/n. it’s no big deal, alright?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “my dad’s fine. he’s annoying.”

jj wanted to pull you into a hug or something and tell you you were being dumb, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. it was too close. so instead, he got out of the hammock, patting your shoulder before he began to head back towards the rest of your friends.

later that night, jj lingered out on the porch as you and the other pogues began heading inside. you pulled john b to the side once you were sure jj couldn’t hear you, and john b was a little confused at first.

“need something?” he asked, a beer in his hand. he had that staple john b smile on his face, it gave him that occasional himbo energy.

“yeah, uh,” your gaze skimmed over the room as you tried to figure out how to say what you were going to say to john b. “i was at jj’s house yesterday. and... i met his dad. it wasn’t for long, but his dad almost hit me, john b.”

he stayed silent, trying to figure out what you were saying. none of the pogues had gotten too close to jj’s dad, a good chunk of them knew better.

“does,” you were breathing a little heavily, fidgeting with your fingers, “does jj’s dad hit him?” you asked, a pleading look in your eyes.

john b avoided the question, going back to what you said first. “he hit you?”

“almost.” you corrected, raising your hands a bit as if to show that you were fine.

“jesus, y/n...” john b leaned back a bit, trying to see if jj was still on his porch. and he was. “come on.” he abandoned his beer on the table, leading you across the room to the door.

you followed, unsure of what was coming next. you could hear your heartbeat, and you were afraid of what john b was going to say.

“jj,” john b sounded remorseful, and while those two had known each other since elementary school, you didn’t recall a time when john b sounded sorry for jj.

“yeah dude?” jj turned to face john b, looking a little concerned when he saw you by his side.

“y/n met your dad, dude. yesterday morning.” john b didn’t explain anything other than that, giving him a look you couldn’t read before jj’s jaw set and his eyes moved to the ground.

jj’s dad had gotten mad at him for some reason the morning before, that was something you didn’t yet know. the moment john b said that you’d met his dad, he knew you met the dad that jj himself knew.

“no, no, it’s no big deal, right? we’re all fine.” jj sounded frustrated, angry with himself. “i’m fine. we’re all fine. it’s-”

you didn’t give him a chance to continue lying to you. you adored the boy, it hurt to see him hurt.

you pulled him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and laying your head on his shoulder. for some reason, you expected him to pull away. he didn’t. he stayed there, lightly shaking as he choked back what sounded like sobs. his arms gently wrapped around you, his hands gripping your shirt as he tried to keep from crying.

he buried his head into the crook of your neck, shuddering. it sounded like he was trying to say something, but you already knew.

you shushed him softly, swaying back and forth ever so slightly. “it’s not fine, is it?” you mumbled, and he could only nod.

“but i’m here, j,” you continued, your hand at the back of his neck, stroking his hair. “and you should talk to me. or let things out.” you reassured him, trying to convince him to not keep this shit bottled up.

“i love you. stop hurting alone.” you laughed weakly, one of your own tears streaming down your cheek.

it hurt to see him hurt.

a/n -- aowindefoalwonreionkolnm adosndoklfamdv literally??? i’m screaming bc best friend john b and soft jj and AOIEndoeDOKLLNVL okay anyways i loved writing this and it made me cry lmao :’) hope u enjoyed

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doflamingadonquixote · 4 years

Text

An Almost Perfect Life - 4/?

Summary: You are a young career woman at one of the bank in London and, at the same time, attending a PhD in Statistics. Your life was perfect until your apartment was invaded by two demons.

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!Reader x Claude Faustus

Previous Chap: Page 1 , Page 2 , Page 3

IV. Sharing Demons

The days had now reached a monotony that you didn't think possible. At work you were controlled by Sebastian but more than control he seemed to really develop a duty as an intern, helping you in the compilation of the documents and in the interviews that you used to carry out with customers who required your experience.

You never thought that kind of cohabitation would reach that level of fake tranquility. At one point, having breakfast and dinner almost became a pleasure.

Claude had become less intrusive, leaving you the space you needed during the study and no longer dared to approach your wardrobe after warning him that if he did it again you would have entered into a contract with Sebastian just out of spite.

You were sure the demon knew you had told a lie but still respected your will.

The last day before the week of your parents' visit, the golden-eyed demon even made you a preparer for a Statistics exam after studying with you and explaining some more delicate reasoning.

However, that feeling of continuous hunting didn’t seem to disappear. The two were and still seemed obsessed with entering into a contract.

Misunderstandings and attacks had happened at least a dozen times and it seemed that the two demons didn’t know how to be in company with each other. One day the house was haunted by Sebastian, the other by Claude.

It seemed as if they disappeared into thin air and when you asked about them or wanted to understand their nature, they seemed to evade your questions, leaving you with a huge question mark.

So much so that day they seemed tremendously irritated by the presence of their fellow man.

“So, my family is coming. I don't want oddities of any kind.” You explained clearly and concisely to the two demons who stood in front of the door.

You asked them politely if they could wear something more normal, like a pair of jeans and a shirt. Needless to say, they had dressed exactly the same way, so it was a matter of debate.

So you decided to offer Sebastian something that diverted attention from ordinary clothing and opted for a long black scarf.

You would have complained about that too, but you preferred to fly over.

You pointed your finger at Sebastian. “I've already explained the situation a hundred times.” And you turned your attention to Claude. “It's nothing too difficult.”

The door rang and almost made you jump on the spot.

“And absolutely no fights.”

Then with a sigh you opened the door and, first of all, you were invaded by the warm embrace of your mother. One arm closed on you while the other held up a bundle of fur. It was in extreme contact with your chest and you felt it shake a little before the woman left.

“It's nice to see you again, mom” you sighed, happy with a friendly face at last. The woman passed you and before paying attention to your father, you observed the reactions of the two demons.

When she settled in front of Sebastian, you watched him widen his eyes as a bright complexion went to cover his cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, I'm the mother of (Y / N), (Y / M / N).”

“Cat.” He said only, as he laid his red eyes on the white beast in your mother's arms.

You whitened. That particular attention on the animal made your blood rise to the brain. Did demons also eat cats?

Before the embarrassing moment could hit everyone, Claude reached out to cover your mother's, appearing in Sebastian's place.

“It's been a while” your father's voice came clear to your ears, forcing you to give your full attention to him.

At the door, with his usual bearing, he looked at you with a softened expression accompanied by a rare smile.

“Yes, it's been a while,” you agreed, letting the detachment disappear as you closed your arms around his body. You definitely missed your father.

He had always been there in difficult times and in your complicated choice of university. You would never have found the right way to thank them for all their commitment and love.

“They are Sebastian, my colleague at work ...” and you pointed to the raven who was playing with the legs of your mother's cat. “… And Claude, Sebastian's cousin. He teaches math and is helping me in the Master.”

The less distracted of the two made a slight bow and wondered where the hell it came from. A simple handshake was enough.

Your father's gaze turned from peaceful to extremely confused.

You quickly approached Claude, placing a hand behind his back and giving him a small pinch with your fingers to make him go straight.

“Well, what if we have lunch, I'm hungry.” you laughed forcedly as the demon watched you in silence.

Your mother, after playing enough with Sebastian and having had her dose of high discomfort, placed the cat in his arms and turned to face you.

“What? Already? But it's only 12 o'clock.” she returned to give her attention to the man to whom she had entrusted her creature and smiled cordially. “After all, I'm curious to know.”

Michaelis gently placed the cat on the ground and finally decided to get out of that embarrassing situation.

“Of course, I promised you after all, madame.”

Your mother laughed at the appellation and asked him to call her only by her name while escorting her to the living room, followed closely by your father who had suddenly become morbid and jealous.

“Are you allright, miss?” asked the second devil, just turning to look at you.

“I hope.” You moaned. “I really hope so.”

“Are you serious?” chuckled (Y / M / N) as she let herself fall against the sofa.

“It was just like that. I would have expected everything but never to be mistaken for a thief.” Sebastian again confirmed as he was still pouring some tea into your mother's cup.

The two of them had secluded on the sofa closest to the window and on the other side of the table your father was starting a close conversation with Claude who seemed to respond monotonously.

For your part, you had been completely ignored during the whole aperitif, leaving you to deal with your phone.

And you couldn't have had better luck.

With the two distracted demons, you could have investigated more deeply into their nature. You had tried as much as possible to find out about how any contracts entered into worked and how the devil was able to circumvent them.

But nothing specified of devils who deliberately put themselves at the service of a human being without a lavish reward. Yours seemed to be an isolated case, not studied and not treated anywhere.

You excluded the most famous sites, certain that if something had been deliberately ousted you would never have been able to find it there and you aimed at those small anonymous sites with a macabre air.

Many spoke of how to recall a devil but few of how to expel that entity.

What you learned, however, was that the devil could only walk in the human world if close to a contractor. So if that was the case, why were those two still able to walk around like normal people?

And in history, even if they were just mythologies, nobody seemed to have been smart enough to deceive a devil.

Just when you were about to forfeit, an important word jumped into your eyes.

-Demon Slayer-

You thought that by clicking on it you would discover some mysterious coven of fanatics but only a cartoon from Japan happened to you.

Although it had been a waste of time, a vague probability of a demon hunter existence tickled your interest. But they could be anywhere.

The church certainly could have given you the answer you were looking for. Using correct and delicate words, they couldn’t have believed you mad but only persecuted.

There was only one problem.

You raised your eyes to the demons who, with their all too human faces, deceived your family with false and kind words.

Being able to leave the house without being observed by both wouldn’t have been an easy task.

Just as those thoughts invaded your head, Sebastian's eyes looked up at you and you could observe a curious frown. Faster than light, you closed the application and smiled fake.

“Well, how about sitting all at the table now? You must know that Sebastian is also an excellent cook. ”

“It was a beautiful hour, (Y / N). We would have passed more often if there had also been such welcome companies.”

You avoided gnashing your mother's words as she warmly greeted the two demons near the door.

If only they had known...

“Don't get too used to it, I will get rid of them as soon as possible.” You wanted it to sound like a joke but it came out too much like a truth.

Sebastian turned to you, his usual innocent smile that graced his all too perfect face. “Now, now, it's not a nice thing to say.”

“Have a good return trip.” You recommended to your father, ignoring the offended comment of the red-eyed demon.

You watched them go out and walk along the avenue of your district from the window and when they disappeared from your sight you managed to breathe a sigh of relief.

The demons had done well, after all, and you never expected all that cooperativity.

Closing the light white curtains, you turned suddenly and jumped on the spot when your vision was completely obscured by a figure a few centimeters from you.

You sighed, putting a hand on your heart. “You have to stop showing up behind people...”

The golden eyes narrowed as if he were amused by your reaction, although nothing in his stoic expression seemed to show it. “I apologize. I forget how sensitive you are to heart attacks.”

“It seems like you're waiting for it to happen...” you laughed a little, trying to break that heavy feeling of blockage.

With a sigh, you let your eyes drop on the glass cup he held in his hands. Inside it still shone the dark brown liquid that your mother sipped during the aperitif. Maybe you forgot it in the living room.

“Oh, thanks.” You reached out to grab the object but when you came into contact with the demon's skin, his fingers opened letting the glass fall down.

You tried to reach it straight away, as if by an involuntary reaction, but the wrist was tightened in a painful grip that made you suddenly withdraw.

The thud and the sound of crystals dispersing on the parquet floor filled the silence inside the small room.

You could feel Claude's nails delicately tracing the inside of your wrist, caressing your flesh as if in a silent threat.

You tried to pressure yourself, as if to get back what was yours but it didn't work. The arm remained stretched to the side of the demon while his body seemed to dominate you. It wasn't too close to be annoying, but not too far away to allow you to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Claude, what's going on?”

When you found the courage to take your eyes off the floor and the grip, your eyes focused on his and you held your breath.

Behind the transparent lenses of the glasses, the unmistakable fire that had replaced the passive and detached yellow eyes shone.

You wanted to try again to say something that could make you understand the reason for his gesture but the grip that surrounded your flesh intensified suddenly letting you escape a sore groan.

Without your noticing his figure had bent over you and when his dark hair came to pinch your nose, you instinctively closed your eyes.

The unmistakable blow of a magazine on a hard object sounded a few centimeters from you, blocking the advance of the demon.

“Get a hold of yourself, Claude. You're scaring the young lady.”

You raised your head, which you had involuntarily lowered in fear, on the newcomer who was waving an old newspaper just above the spider demon's head, a sarcastic smile that graced his lips.

The demonic eyes had vanished again returning to the unmistakable gold and although they seemed to show a sort of surprise, that lasted a few moments.

Your hand was free again and you raised it in front of your chest, massaging the bruised skin. A bruise would probably come out the next day.

"I apologize." He only said, in his usual flat voice. He seemed to apologize very much that day.

Sebastian lowered his red eyes on you, holding out a hand as if to give you a rope to escape from that uncomfortable corner. You didn't know why but you relied on the second demon without thinking twice as he approached you.

“Maybe we should keep our appetite under control, don't you think?”

“I hate to admit it, but maybe you're right.”

You didn’t fully understand the allusion that the two demons had exchanged but you were sure of one thing. Claude was going to hurt you very much.

Your cell phone alarm clock rang at that moment, warning everyone that it was time to go back to work. Sebastian would follow you, as usual while Claude would stay home. Or so you thought.

Just before leaving, you turned around, confused by the sudden absence.

“Where's Claude?”

Michaelis put a finger to his lips as if to hide an all too obvious smile.

“Who knows, maybe sudden commitments.”

Unfortunately, at that time, you couldn’t understand the meaning of that phrase. But soon you would have.

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