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assassins-and-hidden-blades · 3 years

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Trust Me -- Part 2

02/06/2021: Wow, uh, wow. This one got me. Almost started crying at the cheesy ending. I will cringe at it in precisely two months from now. Thank you guys SO much for all the positive feedback of PART 1, it really helped me finish this part. Without you guys, this would have been still sitting in my drafts. There's lowkey a bit of pressure in this actually being GOOD, so I'm sitting here with a bit of Imposter SyndromeTM and crossing everything I can cross that you guys like it. I can't tell whether I went overboard or not, though... I guess that's for you guys to tell me lmao.

Also, these commas can be pried from my very cold, extremely dead, fingers.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! For the first time in almost ever, I'm a bit very nervous to post this -- I hope you enjoy it!!

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie // @rahdaleigh // @sofiewithat /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @itseivwhore // @pink-polarfox // @missbenzayb // @ct-5445 // @timbreavery // @dacian-assassin // @thepalaceofmelanie // @asilverraven // @huntheimpossible // @eclectic--assassin // @thehistorynut19 // @ta-ka-shi-ma // @roki3chocoa // @fandomsfanman // @le-nottibianche // @bandit-brunsmeier // @starmoji1 // @spocktheestallion // @salty-thembo // @missingfrye // @xdeimos // If you want to be tagged, let me know!!

Warnings: Lots of swearing, a bit of graphic violence, implicit mention of sexual assault (I hope it's not a spoiler to say that this does not actually happen, but the idea is used as manipulation. It's not done well, but I'm blaming that on the character being a horrible liar, instead of me sucking at write arseholes), implied character death.

Pairing: Edward Kenway x F!Reader

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The neighbouring ship was chaotic. The opponents were drunk on victory, so slipping through unnoticed was easy. The hard part was going to be staying undercover until you could free Edward and the rest of the crew without anyone falling casualty. “Strip them of their weapons and take them to the brig!” You heard the Quartermaster yell. Thinking quickly, you moved to Edward; if you knew where his weapons were, escaping could be much easier. People were already pulling out his pistols and cutlasses, fortunately dumping them in your arms. Looking around, you pulled away to hide them in an inconspicuous barrel for later.

You weren’t planning on staying long.

Quickly rejoining the group, you took hold of one of your crew members -- you recognised him as one named Jonah -- at the back of the crowd, keeping your face covered lest they accidentally reveal your identity. You kept your eye on Edward’s tense shoulders the entire time, heading below deck and to the rows of cells at the end of the ship.

As you gently pushed Jonah into the cell, someone slammed the door shut, chucking the ring of keys your way. “Lock ‘em up.” Swallowing, you nodded, feeling uncomfortable under their gaze while turning the key in the lock. Taking them out of your hands, a mop and bucket was shoved in its place. “You’re on cleaning duty, starting upstairs; let’s go.” With one last glance, your eyes scoured for Edward before they all disappeared from view.

----------

Edward

There was this crushing anxiety he just couldn’t shake. It rendered him almost motionless, crouched in the corner of the cell, picking at his sleeves. There was a commotion heading towards them; he was in for company he was not in the mood for.

Heavy footsteps gave away the visitor. “We searched your boat.” His crew parted to clear a view as Charles Marlowe relaxed against the cell bars. “We found your woman.”

Edward’s eyes snapped to Marlowe’s as he clenched his jaw, almost daring him to say more.

With a chuckle and a disgusting grin, he brought out a small knife to clean. “Don’t you want to know where she is?”

“I expect you’d would tell me regardless.”

“I would advise against winding me up, Kenway. I could always take my anger out on her instead.”

It took a second for Edward’s arms to fly through the bars, constricting around Marlowe’s throat. “What have you done with her?”

Although cold metal pressed against his jaw, he didn’t ease up.

“She’s waiting for me very nicely... in my cabin.”

Edward didn’t have to think very hard to infer his meaning.

“I’ll kill you if you touch her. I’ll kill you.” Growling, he held impossibly tighter, for if he was here, he wasn’t there.

“With your actions come consequences, Kenway. And you might not be the one paying for them.”

A dilemma came to mind: delay him to keep him away from you, or risk the consequences of his revenge?

Somewhat luckily, he didn’t need to choose.

Before Edward could comprehend that he loosened his grip, Marlowe slipped out of his grasp. The distraught Captain pressed himself against the bars, anger drenching his expression as he heaved out breaths. His captor laughed. “You’re very good at empty threats, Kenway.”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.” His cold tone streaked through the crew, setting hairs on end. They had never heard their Captain like this before; so angry, so dangerous.

It terrified them.

“That remains to be seen. In the meantime…” With a mocking whistling tune, Marlowe spun on his heels and began to walk away.

“Come back here, bilge rat!” He pulled harshly against the cell door. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Then you better stay in line.”

As he disappeared from view, Edward’s emotions overwhelmed him, frustrated tears coming to his eyes. He turned to a solid wall, slamming the side of his fist against it and yelled.

Fear, anger, guilt, and grief echoed around the brig.

Collapsing against the wood, he hid his face in his hands, aiming to either calm himself or hide his inevitable breakdown.

----------

Y/N

“Finish up downstairs.” Nodding affirmatively, you picked up the mop bucket and eagerly headed beneath deck, having to consciously slow down to avoid suspicion. You were glad you were disguised in the uniform of Marlowe’s crew instead of the rags of the common sailors aboard; it would’ve made the job much harder than it had to be.

Keeping a level head, you walked past the cell holding your family and placed the mop bucket against the wall, scanning the deck.

Empty.

Sighing in relief, you realised that you were alone with your crew at last. As you pulled the covering off of your face, you shushed frantically, the cell almost erupting into cheers. You gestured for them to part, eyeing Edward, almost balled up in the corner of the cell. “Hey, Ed,” you whispered, watching as his head snapped up to you, eyes widening.

Scrambling up, he strode to the bars in a second, reaching through the gaps to hold you. “Thank Christ…” he exhaled in relief, bringing your forehead to his lips between the bars. You pulled away after a few moments, sharing relieved glances. “Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?” he asked, eyes scanning you for any sign of injuries.

“No, no, I’m okay. Are you alright? Did we lose anyone?”

“I’m... fine; I haven’t done a head count yet.”

You didn’t reply, watching as Jonah came up to tap Edward on the shoulder. “Capt’n?”

He turned around, withdrawing his hands as Ryan came into view. “I can’t find my da’.” His voice was barely stable, cheeks stained with tear tracks. For a second, you both exchanged sorrowful glances.

Edward crouched down, ruffling his hair. “He’ll be around, lad. We just have to find him. Maybe he’s escaped and is planning his own rescue mission for us.”

Ryan nodded, wanting to believe him. Meanwhile, Edward stood and brought Jonah close, leaning to whisper in his ear. He withdrew, a willing but uncertain look on his face. Both retreated back into the small crowd.

“What did you tell him?” you asked.

“...That he has to look after Ryan now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to stave off tears. “Shit.”

His fingers gently grazed your cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright? Does Marlowe know you’re here?”

Frowning, you shook your head. “I wouldn’t have thought so; if he did, I’d be stuck in there with you.”

His expression was nearly unreadable, but you could sense his anxiety. “I saw him come from here a few moments ago. What was he saying?”

“He…” Pausing for a moment, Edward swallowed. “Just Templar bullshit.”

You scoffed at the notion. “Of course he did. Look, I know how to get out of this.”

“I’ll take anything at this point.” Although his tone was sarcastic, you could tell that for the first time, he didn’t know what to do.

“He needs to die.”

Edward froze, brows narrowing, realising your intention. “No, Y/N, no.”

“‘No’ was an option in Nassau, but we don’t have that choice--”

“No, there must be another way -- “

“There is no other way! This is our only chance--”

“Are you hearing me?! He--”

“Do you understand the situation we’re in?!”

“No, Y/N, please--”

“All it takes is--”

“Just LISTEN to me!” He hissed through gritted teeth, grasping your arm to give it a sharp shake to stop you talking over him. The shock threw you into silence. Lowering his voice, he continued. “If you make so much as one mistake, he won’t just kill you; he’ll make you wish you were dead. Please, please, don’t do this.”

You were stunned. You’ve never seen him so adamant about staying your blade. The desperation in his tone threw you off; you’ve never heard him this serious -- this frantic -- before.

Edward grabbed one of your hands in both of his, bringing your knuckles to rest against his lips. “I love you… with everything I have; I can’t lose you. Not if I can help it,” he murmured, closing his eyes. Your heart broke as you watched a tear escape, trailing down his skin.

“Okay, okay.” You rarely saw Edward cry, and when you did, it was usually due to either drinking or laughing. He took a small, shuddering breath, trying to compose himself.

“We wait for Adé. Then we’ll think about Marlowe.”

“Alright, okay. Hey...” you caressed his jaw. “I’m okay. We’ll be okay. Trust me.”

You heard ruckus above the deck. “Someone’s coming.” Both of you broke away like shrapnel, Edward sitting himself on the floor while you mopped, facing the wall.

And that was how things were.

----------

A couple of weeks had passed since the crew was abducted from the Jackdaw. Everyone had been forced to labour on the deck, doing various jobs, from scrubbing floors to adjusting sails to everything in between. Adé was nowhere to be seen; whether he was hidden on deck and still strategising, or God forbid, something worse, you didn’t know.

A few didn’t make it.

Keeping your identity hidden was becoming increasingly difficult as time went on, of both being a woman and lover of the imprisoned Captain. You had, however, been able to gather intel of Marlowe from the crew that despised him. Each day further validated your belief that this man would be much better off dead; the crew have no loyalty except out of fear, and you could work with that.

You understood Edward’s fear, but it would be selfish of you to stand back and not do anything, watching as almost everyone on the ship suffered; if you did nothing, you would regret it for the rest of your days.

One particular morning was extremely hot, extremely dry, and extremely labour intensive. You were almost halfway through your journey, and you knew you were running out of time. Something had to happen, and soon, or you would never make it to the end of the year.

----------

Edward

After the first week, the crew joined the common sailors around the ship, performing average labour over hours. There was barely time to rest, eat, or drink; he could tell that this was wearing him down more than any form of torture.

The sun’s rays beat down on the nape of his neck as midday approached. Orders were to scrub the floor. He had a brush in his hand the size of a polishing brush, sharing a bucket with four other members of his crew. Each time he made eye contact with one of them, he’d give them a reassuring look; they’d all get out of this, he just needed a plan.

Doors were haphazardly flung open, Marlowe revealing himself from his cabin, followed by an entourage of his closest crew. They clumsily made their way across the ship, bumping into those scrubbing the deck, only to send them a look as if it was their fault in the first place.

One of them knocked over a bucket of water, spilling the liquid across the wood. Edward looked up to observe the situation. It belonged to his crew, including Jonah and Ryan. Marlowe stopped, his stare set on the ones kneeling, completely ignoring the real culprit. “You.” He crooked his finger towards Ryan. “Get up.”

With a petrified look on his face, Ryan stumbled to his feet, shaking like a leaf. “It wasn’t--”

Marlowe put his hand up, a warning to shut up. “It was your bucket, was it not?”

“Y-Yes, but--”

“So it was your responsibility, correct?”

“W-Well--”

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, boy.”

“... Yes, sir.”

Marlowe turned to call to his second in command. “Get the cat.”

Edward’s heart stopped. By now, the ship had dropped to complete silence. They wouldn’t… he was only a boy. Marlowe was sadistic, but he wouldn’t be that evil, would he?

Before he could stop himself, Edward found himself standing protectively in front of Ryan. The child gripped onto his sleeve as he was pushed behind his Captain by the arm. “Why don’t you give a punishment to someone who deserves it?”

Marlowe held a neutral expression. “You’re right…” With a wave of his hand, arms snaked themselves around Edward’s, pulling him away from the others, restraining his movements.

Edward’s eyes flitted to Ryan for a split second; he was pulled to sit beside Jonah before he gained any more unwanted attention. Marlowe came to stand in front of him, unpinning his cape from around his shoulders. It fell into someone’s arms, who carried it away. Although his limbs were pulled harshly behind him, he held his head high, a hard expression in his eyes.

Undoing his cuffs, Marlowe smirked. “I believe you deserve twenty, in place of that boy…” Without warning, a fist came into contact with Edward’s sternum. If it weren’t for the arms holding him upright, the force would have sent his knees buckling. As he regained his breath, he glared at Marlowe. “Another twenty is in order for disobedience…” Another strike winded him again, this one seemingly worse than before. Keeled over, hair blocking his vision, he almost didn’t notice Marlowe leaning into his ear. “Then, about as many as I deem fit…”

Standing up straight, he shook out his hand. “Get him ready.”

Edward stumbled as he was half-dragged across the deck to the main mast. His chest and face collided with the post, the wood almost burning his skin. His arms were pulled taut above his head, rope quickly entwining itself around his wrists. He gave them an experimental tug, his heart skipping a beat when he found not even an inch of give.

Oh, fuck.

Hands gripped the back of his shirt, swiftly tearing it open. His muscles tensed as the sunlight hit his skin. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself with a breath.

The first strike licked his skin, the force shoving him against the post, ripping open stripes of flesh. Pain shot across his back. Biting a back a groan, Edward clenched his jaw. Sweat trailed down his temples, arms straining against the ropes.

Resting his forehead against the post, he prepared for the next lash.

But the strike never came.

----------

Y/N

Ooh, boy.

You were shocked at yourself for a moment, your hand firmly wrapped around Marlowe’s extended wrist, the cat of nine tails trickling Edward’s blood onto the back of your hand.

“I demand satisfaction.”

Gasps and muttering littered the crowd, and you kept to yourself the true realisation of what you’ve done.

You’ve challenged Marlowe to a duel.

“Don’t…” Edward looked over his shoulder, voice loud enough for only you to hear.

You spared him a side glance, urging him to quiet down.

Instead of the expected anger, Marlowe chuckled. “Alright; who demands it?”

You pulled off your face covering and hat, the sun hitting the skin on your face fully for the first time in two weeks. “Naturally, me.”

He hummed darkly, eyes narrowing with recognition. “Naturally.” He began to unsheathe his sword.

“I thought you were a man of tradition; are pistols not your forte?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

After a prolonged glance, metal clicked back into its leather hold. “You really don’t know what you’re getting into, my dear.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“... Let’s get this over with.”

Your heart pounded. This was such a stupid move.

But it was also your only move.

Hiding your own fear, you held eye contact with Marlowe. With trembling fingers, you drew your own pistol, gifted to you by Edward from your last birthday. It was very much your lucky charm, and you hoped it wouldn’t fail you now.

“Ten paces, on my count.” You had no idea who the voice belonged to, nor did you have the current emotional capacity to care. Pulling the hammer down on your pistol, you turned your back to Marlowe. A blank was fired, the echoing shot a signal to start moving.

1…

2…

3...

It was almost deadly quiet.

4…

5…

6…

This was stupid, this was a bad idea. You won’t make it.

7…

8--

An unexpected shot rang out. You dropped to the floor, a pain beginning to blossom in your side.

“NO!”

Marlowe had cheated. Internally, you scoffed. Of course he did.

Although it stung, you were surprised at how bearable the pain was, given you just got shot.

Or did you?

You lay still, partly in shock and partly to plan what to do next.

“What are you all looking at? Get back to work!”

“Y/N? Y/N/N!” You heard Edward’s voice crack. “You cheating bastard!”

“Now, now, Kenway. Don’t forget the position you’re in.”

Floorboards creaked as someone approached. Pistol miraculously still in hand, you waited for as long as possible. Just a little longer....

A shadow shaded your face from the sun. Without thinking, you turned, aimed, and shot.

Marlowe stared back, glassy eyed, blood trickling down his nose.

A moment later, he collapsed.

No one dared to move, choosing to stare at the body in front of them, not quite believing that he was dead.

The monster of a man was dead.

After the adrenaline ebbed away, you sighed heavily. “Glad that��s over.” A hand came into view, offering assistance to stand up. You locked eyes with someone who should have made himself known a long time ago. “Adé!” Accepting the help, you smirked. “Great timing.”

You quickly moved to Edward to begin untying the knots around his wrists. “What the fuck were you thinking?!” he exclaimed, exertion clear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for worrying you--”

“Worrying me?” One wrist freed, he deftly moved to the other. “When I saw you lying there, I felt as if I had died!”

You sighed. “I needed to do something, lest you became more bone than back.”

“That was the most stupid plan I’ve ever seen in my life.” His hands free, he paid no heed to his own wounds and immediately tried to inspect yours. “You were so irresponsible--”

Bringing his face to yours, you stopped him talking with a kiss.

He diffused immediately, finally processing that you were in front of him, alive, and Marlowe was the one dead on the floor. Melting into you, the tension in his muscles dissipated, replaced only with relief. He broke apart from you, burying his face in your neck, his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“If the plan worked, it couldn’t have been that stupid,” you remarked.

“I’m so sorry.” His words were mumbled into your shoulder.

“You were looking out for me; I would have done the same if the roles were reversed.” You hugged him back, recoiling when he suddenly flinched in pain. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

“Shall we just accept each other’s apologies and call it a day?”

You laughed. “That would be good.”

Turning to the hands on deck, you raised your pistol in the air. “It’s over, lads! We can go home!”

You held your side, the pain greatly subsided under the amount of other emotions you were feeling; joy, relief, but also grief. Not for Marlowe, but for the ones that didn’t see this day.

You made a vow there and then; a vow to live your life the way they would have lived.

With joyful, carefree fun.

With the ability to live in the moment.

With gratitude for what you still have that they lost: For some, love, and for others, life.

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #assassin's creed x f!reader #edward kenway x reader #edward kenway x f!reader #assassin's creed imagine #assassin's creed oneshot #edward kenway imagine #edward kenway oneshot

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alyssadeliv · 3 years

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The Forgotten One

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Chapter 4

Everything hurt. Her body felt as if it was on fire, her limbs were heavy and her head was pounding, she tried to open her eyes and understand her surroundings, but they refused to cooperate so she sought to use her other senses to identify where she was, even in a lot of pain she couldn’t forget her training, so she remained calm until she knew what she’s dealing with. It only takes her a couple of seconds to remember what happened. The attack on the League, the Temple crumbling to the ground and her being trapped under it. After that it was a void, so she must have passed out at some point.

She could tell she wasn't still trapped under the rubber because she could feel the softness of a mattress under her and not the hard temple training grounds, it was either nighttime or she was in a room without windows. She couldn’t hear a thing that indicated that there was another person with her, but she can identify cars in a far distance, so she must be close to a city. She feels cared for, so rules out being captured for now.

She isn’t sure how long she laid there, but streams of lighting start to appear somewhere above her from what she can see with her closed lids. The sun is up when she finally can open her eyes.

She is in a bare room, that must be used as storage from all of the boxes around. She’s in an attic in an elevated part that contains just the bed, an iron stair makes way into the second part of the room, she can see from her position that the only way out is through the trap door on the floor, although she can assume that the lighting coming from above her must lead to a balcony. She feels better now, her pain is gone and her limbs ultimately start to obey her again. She had just sat up when the trap door started to open.

She prepares herself for what is to come, she does not have any weapons and she’s not sure she can beat another assassin in a fight in her current state, even with the pain now gone. To her surprise is her godmother that enters the room she’s resting in. She carries a plate with food and a glass of water. She has a warm smile that Marianne has only seen a couple of times, normally reserved for birthdays and celebrations, but still reassures her that she’s safe and cared for.

“It's good to see you’re finally awake. Gave us quite a scare”

“Where am I?”

“Safe” With her tone she can tell that the conversation is over, so she simply accepts the plate that is offered and starts to eat what's been given, a tasty sandwich with a red tart at the side. If it was any other person that came into the room she wouldn’t have been so quick to accept the food, but she knew that her godmother would never hurt her, she was one of the only people she trusted with her life, like a second mother to her.

“How do you feel?” Sabine asks only after the food is gone.

“Surprisingly fine. The pain is gone and I feel normal again. How is this possible? Where are we? How long was I out? What happened with the League? What happened to Damian? Is he here? Is he safe?” The questions jump out of her mouth before she can control them. Rambling has always been a trait of hers, one that she thought to be long under control. But given the situation, she can’t blame herself to look after answers.

But Sabine calmly answers every one of her questions. She doesn’t get into details about the attack but she understands that one of her grandfather’s star pupils betrayed them and orchestrated the attack to take the Demon Head power to himself and rule over the Order of Assassins. Sabine and Master Fu were together at the Temple when it all started and went to look for her, only to realize that she must have thought the same and went to look for them. They saw her being crushed by the falling debris, and they were the ones that dug her out.

She died.

That piece of information stays in a loop in her mind. She died. Master Fu brought her back. Being brought back to life wasn’t impossible, she knew that her grandfather had been doing that for centuries, but he needed the Lazarus Pits for that, and she knew the symptoms of someone that used them, she had seen them first hand from her grandfather or when she was in charge of training a recruit that her mother had taken pity on. She was only ten, and the boy 13 at the time. One of her most proud accomplishments. Her grandfather was so proud of her for training the next generation, even if the boy was technically older than her. She knew the symptoms and she definitely wasn’t brought back using these methods.

“Master Fu will arrive here shortly, he can explain it better”

“Where is here? Where are we? Where's Damian?” She’s desperate, she needs to know where her baby brother is. That he is safe. “Please tell me he’s here!”

Sabine has a heartbroken expression on her face, and that's all the confirmation she needs. The tears roll down her face before she can stop them. All her efforts had been in vain, Damian wasn’t here.

“We are in Paris. He’s not here, but he’s safe” Her godmother tries to reassure her, she dries the tears in her face and strokes her hair trying to comfort the distraught girl. “He’s in a safe place as well, your mother made sure of that. But for now, you can’t go after him, Master Fu will explain why, you just have to trust me when I say I only want what’s best for you”

She then proceeds to tell her best-kept secret so far. She’s married, and they are at her husband’s house, above his bakery. She tells her of how in one of her missions she met the love of her life. But because of her, she knew she couldn’t leave the League just yet, she needed to be there for little Marianne and her bright smiles, to make sure the League didn’t kill the kindness in her. She always visited Paris after a mission. It became some kind of ritual, and no one ever questioned it. Her husband, Tom, knew about her lifestyle and knew that she couldn’t just leave her goddaughter behind, he respected that, even loved how caring his wife was. Sabine begs Marianne to not be guilty that she couldn’t have a better kind of life because of her.

“The best thing in my life is knowing that I helped raise the most selfless and kind woman, I’m so proud of what you become. Never forget that.”

By the time Master Fu finally arrives she’s just so tired. But her need for answers is bigger, so she allows her godmother to guide her to the living room. When they get there she’s surprised, to say the least. Her master is there, but he is not alone. He’s accompanied by two very anxious Kwamis.

“Marianne is so great to finally meet you! I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long!” Tikki, The Goddess of Creation addresses her. But she stays there stunned. She grew up learning about these entities, preparing for the moment she would get to meet them, but there she stays, unable to properly function. So much has been happening in the last 24 hours, and she feels like she’s in shock.

“Great job sugar cub, you broke the kid” Plagg, The God of Destruction comments.

“She’s probably just surprised to finally see us, don’t be rude”

It feels surreal to see these mystical creatures just bickering like children in her godmother’s husband’s living room. She almost feels like she’s dreaming. Feeling her discomfort, Master Fu decides it is better to address the situation.

“Come sit Marianne. It’s time I give you some answers.”

For the next hour, she learns a part of history she never knew about.

Her Master calmly explained to her that by the time they were able to release her from the ruins of the temple, it was too late. But something in him knew there was still hope. Because she was Tikkis chosen, her soul takes more time to disconnect itself from the physical world, so The Grand Guardian did something that wasn’t wrong but still considered taboo. He asked Tikki to use her energy in order to anchor her spirit back into her body. He didn’t use the wish from the Miraculous, so it wasn’t as dangerous. That had only been done once, somewhere when the pharaohs were still in power. One of the Guardians had fallen madly in love with a woman chosen by Tikki, but she got sick and died. Consumed with grief he ordered the Kwami into bringing her soul back.

Because it had happened so long ago they didn’t know the reaction it would cause in her already existing powers. So, for now, it would be better if she stayed in Paris, close to her Master’s, where she could finish her training and receive guidance if needed. They still didn’t know the situation within the League, so it was best to lay low for a while.

So there she stayed. For a whole month, she lived with her godmother and got to know the man she called her husband. It was funny, that the super badass and strict woman everyone knew would turn into the warmest person when around the baker. Marianne could tell they loved each other very much just by the way they looked at the other. In the League love was not something that happened very often. So it felt nice to be in contact with something so pure.

She also kept going on with training, just like Master Fu said they would. It was as if her life was completely new but completely equal to what it was before. She would wake up early, eat something, normally delicious made by Tom, and go to where her master was living, a massage parlor that served as a disguise from his real job as her teacher. They would start by meditating and then move into physical training. It was different, Fu wasn’t so young anymore so now she tended to train alone. She missed her brother so much that it hurt. Knowing where he was but not if he was okay. She wished that there was a way for her to contact him, but knew it would be safer if she didn’t. Just knowing he was with Father makes her feel a little better, she remembers her Mother’s stories of the fearless Batman, so if the time comes she knew he would be safe.

Nothing out of ordinary happened so far, her powers kept the same, maybe a little more intense, but nothing she couldn’t handle. But they were confident that there would not be any other side effects so far. Everything was back to normal, or that’s what they thought.

Imagine their surprise when on one of their meditation sections the both were suddenly overwhelmed by the intense energy that they received. It was dark, nothing like she ever had felt.

“Master, what was that? I have never felt something like it” Her teacher looked like he had seen a ghost, pale and with an anxious expression

“I’ve only felt this type of energy once. We must prepare, something bad is on our horizon. It’s time to activate your miraculous”

“What? Are you sure Master? Please tell me what is going on!” She pleaded.

“The Peacock and the Butterfly Miraculous, a long time ago, when I was just an apprentice, were thought to be lost. This was when The League and the Order were constantly at war. Some of my fellow disciples got greedy. They wanted the power the Miraculous had to offer, they thought themselves worthy of wielding their power and destroying the League of Assassins. There was a fight, and the first Temple of The Order was compromised. Some of us escaped, but we lost a lot. That day… I felt the same type of energy. I believe somewhere in this city, someone is preparing to cause chaos. We must be ready for when it happens.”

“How do we do that?”

“We need to find the Cat Miraculous wielder”

There is a little easter egg in this chapter, let’s see if anyone can tell what it is! The taglist is still open so feel free to ask to be tagged! Please tell me what you thought of this chapter, I’m dying for some feedback

Taglist: @macncheesemonster @jumpingjoy82 @silversaphire12 @jinx-jade @swiftie-miraculer13 @greatcatblaze @megaafangirl @ramos123 @theamityislife @maskedpainter @toodaloo-kangaroo @nyx-in-line @ketchupqueenboiiii @iamabrownfox @lozzybowe @user00000003 @kashlyn @msshadows97 @ira-sairain @stackofrandomstuff @myazael @frieddonutsweets @asrainterstellar @our-preciousss @laurcad123 @nyaabinch @rverfades @thefangirlwholiterallydies @astoriaandromeda @unnamed2357 @little-lady-bird @imdaqueenie

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purplellamanator · 3 years

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So, I'm sorry I don't really know what to call this and did not give it a name- but, this is a product heavily inspired by these head-canon's created and posted by @detectivegeekshin! Please check them out if you haven't already! (if you're following me though you probably already did :D) This is insanely long though and I hope ya'll like it! Sorry @detectivegeekshin that it took me so long! I've been working on this for more than two months I think- so again, sorry!!! Thank you for allowing me to use your ideas to make, what was supposed to be a drabble, story and I hope I did your head-canon's justice! Please excuse my grammar mistakes! I tried my best to clean it up! Thank you again!

Read below the cut for the story :)

Stealing wasn't exactly the word he wanted to use. He didn't consider himself to be a thief. Was it really even stealing if he was taking it from someone it didn't actually belong to? Shinichi didn't think so.

And it wasn't about giving the wealth back to the poor. He wouldn't necessarily call himself Robin Hood either. It was about returning something to its rightful place; to the rightful owner.

It was wrong. All of it. It went against the very morals he himself created to follow when he first decided he'd be the greatest detective of the era. Stealing was wrong no matter if it was stealing something that was already stolen. It was the law and if the law was followed, then it would work out correctly in the end either way.

But that way of thinking wasn't always true. He realized that the longer he worked in this business and the more experience he gathered. It would be a nice world to live in when the law could fix everything. And unfortunately he wasn't naïve enough to actually believe that world existed anymore.

The first time he did it, it had gone against every fiber of his being. The mental crisis he thrusted his entire being into had sidelined him for weeks. So ashamed, Shinichi couldn't bring himself to work on another case. What right did he have? To expose criminals for killing? For kidnapping? For stealing?

He had no right. He was no better than those criminals. Because that was what he was now- a criminal.

The stress and just anxiety that this put him under- Shinichi considered dropping his dream of being a detective. His morals and guilt had been tearing him apart inside.

Until he turned on the news and remembered why he did what he did.

A woman was crying. They were tears of joy and happiness. And she was thankful. Thankful that the heirloom that had gone missing for decades had miraculously found its place back on her dresser. That she had no idea who or how it happened but she was grateful to whomever had given her this.

And that was when Shinichi was reminded of what finally pushed him to this. What made him crack.

He was a detective and he had done his job. He found the precious necklace that had eluded every private eye hired before him. He located it and all they had to do was retrieve it and return it back where it belonged.

But the police couldn't. They needed warrants and that took time. Time they did not have enough of. It would be sold once more on the black market and disappear likely for another decade before they were even served.

The adrenaline that had coursed through him when he finally decided what he would do. He had never felt more satisfied. There had been no disguises; no gimmicks. Just himself. His own face and his own brain. And they still hadn't caught him. It had been easy. So much easier than waiting on the courts.

After that day he saw the news, Shinichi had walked with his head held higher than any other day. He didn't know why exactly. It wasn't like anybody else besides him knew what he had done. No one but him was aware that the woman got that necklace back because of his own actions. Yet hearing people congratulate and whisper about how amazing the mystery was made him smug.

Shinichi told himself it would be a one time thing. Seeing that woman from before distraught and sobbing that her family's prized possession would likely never be returned in her lifetime- it had done something to him. It made him act. Even though he usually did so well detaching himself emotionally from his cases, that one alone had gotten to him. But he'd do better next time. Even if the outcome would be bittersweet and leave him feeling like he failed, he could not do it again. No matter who the victim was or if they cried.

But he didn't stick to that clearly because he did it again a month later, and then soon after that, and again after that.

His excuse each time- he had done so well not getting caught before. What could it hurt to do it again? It was easier. It was faster. With his genius he was sure he would get away with it no matter how many times he tried this. He couldn't be caught. He couldn't be beat. He was just too . . good at it.

Until he wasn't.

He had gotten too cocky; too arrogant. He should've stopped while he was ahead. He had gotten away with it so many times and yet he kept pushing it. And he pushed the boundaries each time. He got more and more careless than the last. And now he was stuck explaining to the last person he ever wanted to find out, why he was parading around as some law abiding detective when he was really a thief.

In the midst of his newly found hobby, Ran- one of his best friends, had realized he was not acting the same as usual. Shinichi didn't allow her to join him to certain cases anymore. He would be secretive about where he was going afterwards as well as if she had somehow already been there, he had even told her to straight up leave.

He should've known that Ran would notice something sooner. It wasn't like him to ever hide things from her and it definitely was not normal for him to tell her to leave a crime scene- unless it was a rather dangerous one. Cases that had to do with robbery didn't normally fall under that. Those were the cases he'd usually rather her witness. She didn't like anything with too much gore and like any normal person, she got scared if she even saw a corpse.

But each time he told her to leave or that she shouldn't follow him. Most of the time he did lie and say it was because he worried it would turn violent. Other times he didn't give a reason. And he definitely should've noticed her suspicion because he normally loved having her witness his cases and deductions. He liked impressing her.

Unfortunately, he didn't notice in time that he was actually worrying her. His sudden change was concerning to her and she ended up following him when he said the Inspector had called and asked for him to come by the station.

Shinichi never went to the station. There had never been a call. Instead, donning his change of clothes, he took a train almost a full hour out till he reached his actual destination.

When he said he had started pushing the boundaries, he had meant it. No longer did his thefts remain with cases within the Japanese Police. He started digging for unresolved cases in the black markets.

The entire time Ran had been tailing him. She had followed him the entire way and he hadn't noticed a single thing, which he didn't know if he should be annoyed by or impressed.

When he had almost been shot however and Ran's foot suddenly came down on the guards head, he settled on being impressed. Because though he was furious she had followed him into such a dangerous underground location, she had saved his ass. And it didn't help that Ran was aware of that fact.

She hadn't pressured him for an explanation. Shinichi thought she would yell at him and demand to know what he was doing and why. Ran hadn't done any of that. Instead, she took it upon herself to be his lookout as he finished what he originally set out to do.

Ran kept her thoughts to herself at first. It had made him nervous considering he was expecting her anger. When he hadn't gotten it, he didn't know what to expect now. Her moral compass was just as strong as his had been. When she realized what he was doing- and she definitely already had, he could only assume it'd upset her. Why wouldn't it? At this point he was no better than-

"Are you Kaito Kid?"

Kaito Kid. Obviously he knew who she was talking about. And it was actually insulting and ticked him off.

What he did took more skill. He wasn't some magic freak with a couple fog machines and pet doves. He had no disguise. If Shinichi wanted something, he walked in there and took it. With his own face.

With a stony expression, he denied the accusation. As far as he was concerned, he always thought of the Phantom Thief as, exactly that, a thief. Truthfully, he hadn't run into the magician too much after his new found discovery. And at the thought he realized that it must mean Kid wasn't after just any treasure. He must've been looking for something in particular which reminded him that he didn't know the guy's actual motive behind his crimes. Maybe like him, he realized, Kid might have a valid reason for turning to crime.

When he started sympathizing with a criminal however he noticed how far in his own crimes he actually was.

Ran took his denial in stride. She didn't seem all that surprised by his response. She clearly didn't actually think he was the Phantom Thief. But oddly enough, she didn't really ask for an explanation. If he wasn't doing this as Kid, then why was he doing it? She didn't claim to want to know.

Oddly enough, that annoyed him as well. It should be a good thing she wasn't drilling him for answers. She was just accepting what he was doing and not going to stop him.

"You're that vigilante thief they're talking about all over the news. . . aren't you? The Night Baron?"

Night Baron? Out of all the things, that's what they decided to go with? And though it was exactly what he was, the word vigilante left a bad taste in his mouth.

This accusation was different however. Unlike the Phantom Thief one, she uttered this one with confidence. If he denied this, Ran would not believe him. There was no point in trying anyway when she had literally caught him in the act.

It took him aback a little that she had caught on so easily. The Night Baron wasn't as common in the news. He hadn't been doing this nearly as long as the other well known thief. It made him question if she'd been contemplating this for awhile. How long had she suspected him? And how could she not say this without any ounce of anger?

"Well. . . I have faith in you, Shinichi," she finally said when he asked. "I know you and I know you wouldn't be doing this unless you had a good reason or you thought it was right."

"And what you're doing is right. The Night Baron helps people."

The amount of trust she put in his character made him feel warm inside. It was embarrassing but that sentiment made the corners of his eyes almost prickle. Shinichi hadn't realized how desperately he had wanted to hear those words. He thought he had come to terms with his guilt. But clearly he had not if hearing Ran say that almost made him get choked up.

Ran didn't think less of him for losing his morals. She didn't look at him in disgust. She approved of it. She encouraged him for doing it. No explanation given yet and she had already determined that what he did, he did for good. He had no desire or intention for personal gain. And he had never felt like someone had ever seen him so clearly before.

Again, she didn't push for his actual reasonings. Based off her earlier assumptions, she likely already knew them. But though it was clear she didn't think it, he didn't want to risk her assuming he was some mindless criminal. Without her prompting, he gave his explanation.

The law wasn't enough sometimes. And though it was sad and went against what he engrained in his own head, this was the best and more efficient option. After all, if you want something done correctly, do it yourself then, right?

Ran hadn't so much as flinched. And it was staggering.

"You're not upset?" He couldn't help the disbelieving tone he used. It was almost a little concerning she wasn't more opposed to this.

Ran shrugged. "I am a little. Clearly you've been doing this by yourself and lying to me when you could've just told me."

Tell her? Why would he want to tell her?

"Shinichi, you were almost shot. Clearly you need help doing this."

Absolutely not.

That had been his initial reaction. If he ever for some reason got caught, it would likely drag her down with him. And that was the last thing he wanted.

But after sleeping on it for a quite a few days, and also that he couldn't sneak off anymore once Ran realized what he was going, Shinichi began to see the possible perks to working with a partner. And not just any partner but Ran specifically.

She was smart. He was definitely the mastermind behind all of their plans but that was not to say Ran couldn't come up with a plan of her own. Her insight gave another perspective that sometimes, he never would've thought of. If she didn't like an idea, she said it. If she thought they should do something else, she told him. Shinichi wasn't perfect. He missed things sometimes. It was good to have her pair of eyes as well.

It was just as helpful to have her brute strength as well. He assumed most would find it somewhat emasculating to be physically weaker than their female counterpart. Shinichi didn't mind at all. He was strong as well but admittedly, there were things Ran could do that he could not. Like denting a wall with her bare fist.

With Ran added into the picture, it came with even more possibilities. And perks.

The one person he didn't want to have to lie to, he didn't have to anymore. And they worked close.

He liked that too.

Ran was a good asset and made his job a whole lot easier. He really took note of that fact when instead of climbing through an air duct to sneak into some party, Ran had somehow managed to get them clearance through the front door.

And that wasn't nearly all she was able to do.

Ran is gorgeous. It was the bitter sweet conclusion he came to when Ran easily had the host eating out of the palm of her hand. The guy probably would've just given her the painting they were after if she simply asked properly.

The thought annoyed him.

He always knew he had a thing for Ran. He was pretty sure everybody knew that fact besides the girl herself. He had known her for a long time now. They had been friends since the first year of college. Their friend group was also the same and their parents both had ties to the Japanese Police Force. And she was stunning to look at. He'd argue it would be impossible for him not to take a liking to his friend.

He never told her though. He didn't know if she felt the same and after this partnership they just started, he wasn't sure it was worth the risk. If he tried a move and it scared her off, he'd have to revert to working alone. And he didn't want to do that for more reasons than one.

Like he acknowledged before, Ran was beautiful. He was not alone in that belief. It made it all the more difficult to witness guys flaunt their wealth and good looks in her face. He didn't want to see that. They didn't actually know her. Ran was his friend for three years. They didn't deserve her especially when clearly all they wanted was to undress her. And they were arguably worse criminals than half the people he got locked up.

So it was all instinct when he finally cracked. Some guy whom they didn't know was trying to dance with Ran. And he wasn't just 'trying'. He was touching and caressing her arm. Gritting his teeth, Shinichi couldn't help himself when he wrapped an arm around Ran's waist and tugged her back into his chest.

"I thought the first dance was mine, wife."

It was stupid. He had no idea why he allowed that to slip out. If he didn't have better control of his emotions he probably would've turned flustered all the way to his toes.

Ran's eyes bulged. "W-wife?!"

Honestly, her surprise couldn't be helped. He had totally blindsided her. It was his fault. And he definitely didn't have a valid enough reason to interfere like he did.

Sensing something was off between the couple, the other guy raised a brow as he eyed the arm wrapped firmly around her waist. "You don't recognize your own husband?"

Shinichi wanted to bash his own head against the wall. This was why they weren't supposed to go against the plan. Posing as her husband had definitely not been part of what they discussed earlier. It caused too many questions that they did not prepare beforehand to answer-

A hand suddenly slid up and brushed against his cheek softly. "We're not married just yet, Shin-chan. Only engaged so it's a bit too soon to be saying that," she chastised with a giggle; her acting on point.

Beyond his control, he could feel a slight heat rise to his cheeks. The intimate way she touched his face wasn't helping either. He swallowed hard as he looked down at her eyes, meeting her softened gaze.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't see the ring."

The ring?

Ring?

A ring!

They didn't even have rings to back up their story-!

It was at that point Shinichi didn't know if the guy was actually apologetic for hitting on a married woman or suspicious that they weren't actually a couple that was engaged.

"No, it's our fault really," Ran said sheepishly. "This dummy here didn't get me the right ring size so it's sadly getting resized."

Shinichi was a little insulted. He would've most definitely did his research to get her the correct ring size before proposing.

After the guy walked away, they both found their way to the dance floor with all the other couples and joined in the slow sway. If asked why, he'd argue it was to back up their story even more. Deep down though, Shinichi knew better.

Ran was oddly silent however.

"Shin-chan?" He grumbled with forced annoyance. At the time it had completely caught him off guard. The nickname that his mother used for him. At the time he figured it was payback for the confusion he started. It didn't mean he hated the name any less.

But just as easily, she quipped back, "Wife?" She raised a brow as if to drive her point and he immediately shut his mouth.

It was definitely payback.

Ran never did question why he stepped in that night. They were on a job after all and he deduced that likely she had already forgotten what he'd done. Besides the little hiccup, every thing else went according to plan. Everything else stayed the same.

Until their next job. And the job after that. And the one after that.

Because that one night when they had taken the painting; it had started a trend of sorts. A trend where one or the either would claim to be in a relationship with the other. Before it had started with a dance which at the time, neither had been prepared for and both were too awkward to acknowledge properly. But the next time they are holding hands and eventually it becomes normal for Ran to hug his arm to her chest or for him to hold her waist.

Each time is a mystery to them. Neither have any idea what they'll be. It was a constant cycle of being married, to dating, to two already taken spouses in a very wanton and promiscuous love affair. And the stories they came up with on the spot were more extravagant and extra than the last. And they were never prepared before hand. Suddenly it was a game for them. How deep could they take this? What tale could they come up with this time? It was getting out hand. The stories were getting more detailed each time, he almost believed the lies himself.

Shinichi didn't usually snap back out of it until he saw her again in class the next day. They weren't childhood friends that had been together since preschool days. He hadn't dramatically confessed his love in London while the Big Ben chimed behind them. They hadn't shared a first kiss at Kiyomizu-dera on a school trip to Kyoto.

And it didn't stop there. If they weren't already talking to each other, they would always be touching in some form. Whether that was by a hand resting against his thigh or his fingers dragging dangerously low on her lower back.

It was a very small line they were tiptoeing against and the blatant flirting they joined in with was starting to toy with his emotions. It was one thing to elaborate or give false truths to further their disguises. It was another entirely to grope each other secretly. There was no witness to convince. Who were they showing off for other than each other?

It was getting increasingly more difficult to act like nothing was going on- or at least nothing was going on with his end. He was stressed and constantly filled with anxiety that at some point these lies would eventually bleed into their actual daily lives. Because when he once again had to suppress the urge to grab her hand as they walked from class, he was realizing once again who they actually were.

They were Shinichi and Ran. A Shinichi and Ran that had met three years ago in a shared psychology class. A Shinichi and Ran that were best friends and nothing more. A Shinichi that had been mooning after the same girl since he first met her. A Ran that as far as he could tell, didn't share that same sentiment.

This whole thing was a dangerous idea where his emotions were involved. And due to his argument that they didn't need to stop this 'charade' or whatever was the proper term to call it, it wasn't a matter of if this would affect their personal lives. It was a matter of when.

Surprisingly, it wasn't him that cracked.

It had been an honest mistake- one Shinichi didn't exactly mind. They had been in a study session with Sonoko and Nakamichi. It was a hot day and they had all taken refuge in the campus library. And to also help combat the heat, Shinichi had a water bottle that he was casually sipping on. One that Ran had easily grabbed from his hands to take a swig out of.

Shinichi didn't mind. He really didn't and truthfully, he probably wouldn't of even noticed if it weren't for the fact all their friends froze to gap at her incredulously. She had done this to him numerous times on a job. Asking for a sip of his champagne or simply stealing a bite of food off his plate. It had been a shock the first time but it in the moment he knew that was likely her intention to get a rise out of him. Now however, he was positive that she had fell into that act by mistake. She didn't mean anything by it, he was sure- not like she used to.

Nakamichi whom had been in the process of reading out his answer for one of the questions on the study guide had trailed off slowly, almost completely floored by what he had witnessed. Sonoko looked like she would fall out of her seat.

It was almost laughable that Ran didn't realize the stares that were being drilled into her. Attempting to keep his face neutral, he nudged his knee into hers gently and it was only at that she finally began to realize her mistake.

Features turning a scorching red, she quickly forced the water back into his hands. "I-I'm so sorry!" she burst. "I have no idea why I did that! I don't know what I was thinking," she sputtered. "I-it was just so hot and I-I-"

She was drowning; sinking further into her panic and he tried to save her.

"Ran, it's okay," he said calmly even though on the inside, he was freaking out just as much as she was. "It's hot outside and I've known you forever. We can share a water bottle." Shinichi was trying to play it cool. For the sake of their image with their friends.

Of course it wouldn't be enough to deter the teases they were sure to receive from their friends but what else could he do? He couldn't very well say she grabbed his by mistake. It had literally been in his hand. He had just drank out of it and been going to sip out of it again when she grabbed it. And he definitely couldn't say that she did this to him all the time when pretending to be his wife.

There was absolutely nothing they could say to excuse this. The whole scene had been way too casual even for the two of them. Sonoko, whom had made numerous jokes that they were actually a married couple, looked like this was too much for even her to comprehend. Because whether she knew he had a thing for Ran or not, anything she said before this had been harmless taunts.

"How long has then been going?!" Sonoko having determined that the study session was now over, pointed between them furiously. And that wasn't just an exaggeration. Sonoko looked irritated. Not because they were seemingly dating but because she had both missed and not been informed when it happened.

But there was nothing to tell. Nothing was going on- or rather nothing in the way she was thinking. No matter how many times they both told her that, the Suzuki heiress did not look convinced. Not even Nakamichi seemed to trust it but unlike the other girl, he thankfully kept his accusations shut till they were in private.

"Look- I'm not saying I'm mad or anything. It just sucks a little that you didn't tell me," his friend finally admitted when they left the two girls at the library.

Neither had been worried or surprised when Sonoko said they would catch up with them later. Shinichi felt bad for abandoning Ran but he knew that Sonoko would want to grill her for answers. It would've been more humiliating for both of them to be present for that.

Nakamichi wasn't nearly as difficult as Suzuki to deal with but Shinichi still found himself rolling his eyes. "I already told you," he said tiredly. "Ran and I are not dating." Shinichi wasn't sure how many more times he would have to say just that. He didn't even know if there was any other way to word what he was trying to get through his friend's apparently thick skull.

Suddenly his friend stopping walking, forcing him to do the same. For some reason his eyes were wide and a slight red was forming on his cheeks. "Oh."

Oh? Shinichi raised a confused brow. "What?"

"Well- I just never thought Ran-chan would ever. . . " Nakamichi trailed off, scratching behind his ear awkwardly. "She just doesn't seem the type, you know?"

Huh?

"Her . . type?"

And then suddenly his friend looked concerned, waving his hands in front of him defensively. "Hey- I'm not judging! Whatever you wanna call it- I support it!"

Suddenly Shinichi was freezing himself. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked aggravatedly.

"You and Ran-chan aren't dating but you're. . . you know," Nakamichi said pointedly. "You still could've told me though. I'm not going to tell anybody. Have some faith man. We've know each other since grade school."

Shinichi's eyes bulged and all the blood rushed to his face as understanding finally hit him.

"Ran and I aren't dating and we're not doing t-that either!" he exploded.

oOo

Without Ran even needing to tell him, Shinichi knew Sonoko must've given her a hard time afterwards. Nakamichi probably wasn't nearly as difficult to deal with but it still had been an uncomfortable conversation nonetheless.

His friend actually thought that he and Ran were having . . . sex on the side.

He wouldn't be so lucky.

Shinichi was flushing at the thought alone. It had been so humiliating.

But what made it worse however was when Ran actually apologized to him again in private. She reiterated once more that she couldn't understand what she had been thinking in the moment. She also suggested that maybe it would be best to stop pretending. It was mixing them up in real life and confusing for both of them.

A small part of him was crushed by her suggestion no matter how logical it was. It hurt.

Shinichi rejected the idea. He agreed that maybe they could tone it down some. They didn't need to be a couple every time they did a job. But he also argued that sometimes the act actually did make their job easier. And deep down there was another reason he didn't want to share.

Because if they gave up their little charade, then he knew what that would mean. There was no logical circumstance that would allow him to touch her and flirt with her like when they were on a job. And he desperately didn't want to lose that. Even if their act escalated each time.

But he knew Ran had a point.

Their next job was once again at another extravagant and fancy party. And this time, they both arrived alone. The two had snuck in separately and at different times as well. And throughout the entire night, neither acknowledged the other. They acted like perfect strangers.

This time the showcase was a pearl. A pearl that would surprisingly 'go missing' by the end of the night. And like every other job they did, he had a plan that they had gone over in detail numerous times. One that didn't work out at all considering the whole night had been derailed by the sudden appearance of the Phantom Thief.

The moment that magician's calling card appeared, Shinichi knew they'd have to make adjustments to their plan and they needed to do it now. If KID followed and stuck by the time on his announcement, then the pearl they were both after would be long gone by the time they got anywhere near it.

They had to improvise which was difficult without them even talking to each other. Besides that factor added in, throwing Kid into the mix only derailed everything further. If they wanted any hope of beating Kid, then they had to act right then.

To be honest, it wasn't very surprising they were almost caught. It hadn't been particularly smart of him to continue with his intentions of stealing the pearl. Just Kaito Kid being there caused too much of a scene. Any calling card that arrived meant it would soon be followed by police and a camera crew. The Phantom Thief brought media attention wherever he went. It was dumb of him to not just give the pearl to the thief. Especially cause-

Kaito Kid had mentioned the Night Baron in his calling card. He had made it clear he was aware that he wasn't the only thief present with their sights set on the pearl. And he had mentioned the other thief by name.

That gave a lot of insight Shinichi wasn't even sure Kid meant to give. That calling card told the detective that either Kid knew what types of jobs the Night Baron targeted or worse- that he knew the true identity of the Night Baron. And if the latter was correct, then it meant that someone had been watching him for a long time. Someone was probably watching him right now. And if that were the case, Kid knew his entire plan.

The right thing to do would be to pull back. To grab Ran and bail. The plans he had made were done without taking Kaito Kid into account. But if the other thief really had been watching him, then those plans could be tossed out a window. Nothing was worth getting both him and Ran caught and possibly arrested. The logical conclusion was to escape while they could.

Shinichi was too prideful for that. And stubborn. This wasn't his first run-in with the Moonlight Thief. Shinichi had dealt with him quite a few times when helping Inspector Nakamouri or Inspector Meguire. This would however be the first time he ran into the guy when he was on one of his own little side jobs.

And he was not prepared. Fighting against him as a detective had numerous resources. He had the Japanese Police Force at his disposal. As well as when he was working his real job- he did not need to hide his own face. Not only could he be recognized by the police, he had also made a name as a criminal. If somehow his face was linked to the scene of all those crimes- he was done for.

But like the idiot he was, he couldn't help but take this as a challenge. The fact Kaito Kid mentioned him by name in his calling card told him that the thief knew he was there and also he didn't really care nor was he stressed by that.

It wasn't like him to panic. But in the end, that was what he'd done. His actions had been panicked and rushed and honestly- thoughtless. Ran hadn't scolded him at all through the night; probably thinking now wasn't the time when they were running from police officers. Shinichi could just feel her disapproval however. He knew the moment they were out of here and alone at his house, he'd receive the yelling of a lifetime.

Getting an earful would be the least of his worries if they couldn't find a way out of this building. All of the usual exit points had been closed or cut off due to Kid's warning for his appearance. The guy was a showoff and frustrating. Shinichi knew it was all part of the guy's show to leave people wondering just how he made his escape.

Shinichi wanted to throttle him.

Because of that hack of a magician, he'd get caught. Because of him, Ran would get in trouble with him. The two of them had been running nonstop and even if they had the layout of the mansion memorized, it wouldn't help with guards standing at every single entrance and exit- which is what they had been doing the moment Shinichi triggered their alarm.

The panic and just straight anxiety that he felt in that moment, could not be paralleled to anything else in his life. He knew they were running out of options. Usually he was the one with all the plans but he couldn't even gather his thoughts to try to formulate one. All he could think was how much of a sad excuse for a thief, a detective, and a friend he was-

No. If there was one thing he would do, it was to save Ran. He got Ran involved in this and he would not allow her to go down with him. Already he had given up on finding escape. Now all he was trying to do was deduce just how he was going to explain Ran's side of things. He'd force her to pose as his hostage if he had to. He would not allow her to be ruined from this-

Abruptly his thoughts caught off when Ran very suddenly gripped his fingers tightly. When he glanced over in her direction, he found she was already looking at him. They were both running as fast as they could trying to put more and more distance between them and the heavy footfalls coming from behind them. Unlike him however, she did not appear scared or stressed. In fact, while he was internally having a meltdown, Ran shot him a quick but soft smile.

And suddenly she was pushing ahead of him; her fingers still clenching his tightly as she tugged him behind her.

She was taking them further in though, he noticed incredulously. In fact she was taking them towards the rooms. Shinichi had to stare into the back of her head, as if wondering if she'd lost her mind. There was no exit to the outside this far in. Nothing but windows which they already realized was not going to be an option. There would be officers outside each window waiting for them. They would not be able to get far.

Just when he had been about to reprimand her himself, he found himself being tugged to the side again. Ran's goal hadn't been the window. She had pulled him into one of the numerous bedrooms that lined the hall. Which he guessed would be nice for shock value but again, he found himself wanting to question her. Sure hiding in a room would be unexpected at first but he highly doubted they would fail to check these rooms. All it would do is buy them some time before they were eventually captured. And a simple search would prove that he was in possession of the pearl that was currently missing.

They had put quite a bit of distance between them and the task force that was chasing them. They would have a few minutes at most. And he knew exactly what he was going to do with those few minutes.

"Ran, what the hell?" he spun on her only for his eyes to grow bigger even more. He had turned to find her turning on the table lamp and he really thought she had lost it. They were trying to hide. They should be turning lights out, he wanted to yell as he watched her come back over to him. Anything he was meaning to say was gone when she was suddenly pulling him again and he only watched in confusion as she seemed to position him just in front of the table she had walked to.

His eyes bulged when she grabbed one of his hands and placed it around her ribs. And when she placed the other very firmly onto her rear, he turned into a sputtering mess.

"R-Ran . . . " The way he said her name this time was unlike before. It was smaller he knew but it was definitely nervous as well. By this point he was less concerned about the police chasing them than he was about his partner's behavior. He had given up on talking when suddenly she was pressing her palm flat against his chest. He followed the movement with his eyes until her other hand caressed his cheek forcing him to look directly at her.

She wasn't saying anything. And even if he wanted to, she didn't give him enough time to try. Palm on his chest scrunching into a fist, all he could do was gasp when suddenly he was tugged down into a kiss.

He froze. His eyes had bulged even more he was sure and he felt his features flood red- redder than they had been. It was hard for him to comprehend what exactly was happening right now. Ran hadn't given him a chance to process anything and the moment her lips touched his, his mind went blank. He was pretty sure he wasn't even breathing at this point.

She must've felt how frozen he was because suddenly she was pushing forward more, her mouth pressing insistently against his own. As if yelling at him to do something. And that was all he needed.

Taking notice that her eyes were shut, he did the same before he leaned into her willingly. His hand that she had pressed against her rear- that he had left there mostly out of shock, grabbed her and pressed her against him more firmly. The movement made her gasp and going off her response, his other hand rose to bury itself in her hair where he angled her face to fit more comfortably against his.

The kiss was slow but it didn't mean it was any less sensuous. Tongues were brushing against each other, their breath intermingling as it panted against the other's lips. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly why Ran felt the need to kiss him now, but as far as first kisses could go- he wasn't complaining. Was a reason really necessary?

No. He didn't think so.

Was he going to ask her why she was suddenly tugging his shirt from where it was neatly tucked into his pants?

Maybe later- definitely not now though. He didn't question it. He didn't question hearing what sounded like a door opening before being slammed shut. He didn't want to. If Ran wasn't, then why should he? All he knew in that moment was that something that he had been waiting for- something he had been wanting, was finally happening and he wasn't going to waste his time trying to get an explanation of why.

But even without wasting his time, it still wasn't enough. All too soon he felt Ran begin to pull away. Her hands released their tight grip on his shirt and hair and came to rest smoothly against his chest. Shinichi felt the retreat. She was moving away from him. And the realization made him panic.

No. He felt his mind shout. That wasn't enough. It's not enough.

Surging forward, just after their lips had completely separated, he found them slamming against hers once more. This time because of him. And when she gasped into his mouth he just couldn't help himself. Arms gripping her firmly, he turned to the side forcing her into the wall just beside the shelf she had him pressed against. His fingers had never left her hair and instead his fingers buried deeper into the long strands. If the grip was painful, Ran didn't say. If anything, it sounded like she liked it with the way she released a moan into his mouth.

Shinichi had her pressed into the wall, the hand that wasn't angling her face closer to his, gripping the bare skin of her thigh. In the moment, he didn't care to process or wonder just how his hand got through the slit of her dress. All he wanted to do was just get closer and closer and as close as he could get, he concluded as he forced her leg to stay raised against his hip. When it got to the point they needed a second to just breathe, he had his lips slanting across the smooth skin of her neck. From this position he could feel her panting heavily against his ear. He could feel her desperately trying to draw in air to her lungs. He also felt when she stiffened.

When he had practically picked her up, forcing her into the wall, Ran's hands had both slid to the front of his shirt. When she gripped the lapels of his suit coat she had used force to tug his mouth closer to her neck. Suddenly however, he felt that grip slacken.

"I t-think. . . I think they're gone now. . "

That was like a wake up call.

His own common sense kicking in, he remembered where they were. What they were doing. Who was chasing them. Gently, he released his hold of her thigh and set her to rest on her own feet. Taking a glance at her he noticed she was redder than he was.

"I-I'm sorry. I knew they would find us either way so I-I . . improvised. . . "

Improvised?

Improvised.

Still sort of stuck in some dazed haze, it took him longer than it should to understand what exactly she meant.

Improvised, he repeated again in his thoughts.

That was what she kissed him for? Shinichi could remember discreetly at some point the door opening and then slamming shut shortly after. At the time he hadn't really cared that much to question it. He had been way too focused and interested in something else.

Something else that she 'improvised'.

The bitter thought left the same taste is his mouth.

Frowning, and face turning a darker shade, he took a step back.

"Right . . . " he agreed swallowing hard.

Of course they couldn't stay there any longer than they already had. There was always the possibility that the police would realize their mistake and return. If they were smart, they shouldn't be here for if or when that happens. There was no time to just stand there awkwardly. Though that was what he proceeded to do.

The reminder she gave for why they had hid in this room in the first place, did nothing for him. He should've been like her; scrambling to fix their appearance to look somewhat normal. But he couldn't be bothered. Shinichi watched as she hurriedly straightened her dress and finally, began the process of cleaning himself up. His motions were slow and sluggish however compared to her quick and hastened ones. It was only after a few moments of him pulling his tie forward that he realized his shirt was untucked.

"Does my hair look okay?"

All at once he was distracted. Again. Pausing with his shirt, and glancing back at her. Did her hair look okay?

"Yes."

Belatedly he realized what she actually meant. Was her hair fixed? Did she look normal? And still looking at the hair that he knew she had styled meticulously beforehand, it was tangled and frizzed. The long strands were very obviously out of place.

He startled a little when suddenly Ran was just before him, brushing her fingers through his hair. He was taller than her so she was on her toes, stretching to reach his height. He acknowledged that but seemed to struggle to realize maybe he should lean down to make it easier for her. The thought didn't occur to him. Not at first anyway. Once the thought hit that maybe she was trying to kiss him again, he found himself bending down. Her face was close to his again and he caught the scent of whatever it was she was wearing.

The sudden movement clearly caught her off guard and his eyes that had apparently been focused on her mouth watched as she didn't pull away, but instead rested flat on her feet again. Her hands were still in his hear however and he had to take a moment to wonder if she was going to use that to grab him again.

"Shinichi! What are you doing?" she practically hissed the question; her movements still hurried. "You look like a mess. Hurry up!"

And with a blushing face he realized that no, she wasn't trying to kiss him again. She was trying to fix his hair because it looked ridiculous. And he was just standing there, taking his time. Like an idiot.

Hearing noises in the distance however, they had run out of time. Immediately whatever stupor he had been in, broke and not willing to use anymore time, they bolted.

Shinichi was sure they looked like quite the pair. There was no way people would look at them and think they hadn't done something. He guessed that meant the plan worked but it didn't make it any less humiliating having to push through snickering guests that 'just knew what they'd been up to'.

They hadn't been up to anything however. Just 'improvising'.

And all he had said in response was, 'right'.

Shinichi hated how that one word was all he said. It gave the impression that they were on the same page. And if that was all that kiss was to her, then clearly they weren't. In the moment he hadn't the brain to make the connection between her actions and the situation they had been stuck in.

He wasn't surprised he didn't get her intentions to begin with. Unlike her, it never crossed his mind to use that as a . . disguise? And the fact that they didn't think exactly alike is what saved them.

But he was still mad.

It was laughable and dramatic and infuriating. Because he couldn't do or say anything in response and he knew it. How could he be angry? How could he complain if her plan actually worked? Yeah, sure his pride was hurt and he was a little embarrassed when he realized they were not on the same page. But he could admit, hurt feelings were easier to deal with than jail time.

It didn't mean he couldn't feel the sting still.

Shinichi knew why it hurt so much. He knew the real reason. Because for once he actually believed that Ran saw him as he saw her. Not just best friends or partners in crime but maybe something . . . more.

They had met years prior in a shared class on psychology. And he didn't want to say it was love at first sight but- it was definitely a lasting first impression.

He knew from early on that he held interest there. An interest that was built upon by the constant joint study sessions and realization that they also held numerous moral similarities. They were just pursuing them in different ways. She wanted to be a lawyer and he wanted to be a detective. Quite often he'd make the joke that they'd be an unstoppable pair in law enforcement; jokes that deep down held a hint of seriousness that, at the time, he hoped she didn't notice.

The truth was much harder to swallow. It had come like a bucket of ice, cold water dumped over his head. It felt like a slap to his face. A stone, hard slap of reality. His subtly backfired or rather- his lack of action did. Because again, how could he be mad when he never made his desires known?

He was a real coward. He never could bring himself to confess no matter how often the thought occurred to him. The excuse being- Ran had never gave any indication that she felt the same. Shinichi didn't want to ruin the strong bond they already had; their friendship that they had built on for years. It just wasn't worth the risk when he couldn't be confident in her answer nor her reaction.

But then she kissed him. His whole mind had shut down. And when they separated, possibilities flooded him. He could confess or was a confession really necessary at this point? Ran liked him. Ran wanted him.

That's what he first thought. So he responded. He had kissed her back. And if that already wasn't an obvious display of his feelings, he had acted like a totally catatonic fool directly afterwards.

Once they knew they were in the clear, Ran had become oddly silent. And distanced. She wouldn't meet his gaze and her cheeks were still a suspicious amount of pink. She seemed extremely fidgety to be beside him and the moment they said their goodbyes for the night, she had bolted.

Shinichi didn't know what he had been expecting exactly. An apology? Maybe even a confrontation over his obvious infatuation with her? But she had said nothing. And she had fled like the police were still chasing them.

Maybe what made it worse was that he couldn't be sure if it was because she had kissed him or, that she realized how he saw her and she panicked. Neither meant well for him. Both gave the impression that kissing him made her uncomfortable.

Shinichi wanted to punch something.

And his shirt still needed to be tucked in.

He got more than halfway of doing that before he remembered he was already home and began asking himself why exactly he was fixing it now. He had no need to do it now and grumbling irritatedly to himself, he instead began taking it off.

They didn't take on another job for almost an entire month after that. Waiting in between gigs wasn't unusual but not planning the next however, was. Normally by this point, he'd already be casing their next event. By this time he would've already consulted Ran.

He had done neither.

Instead, he went to school as normal and also continued helping Inspector Meguire when prompted. Nothing appeared different except the absence of their little side cases.

And that Ran was avoiding him.

It wouldn't of been as bad if it wasn't for their friends noticing that something was off. It also didn't help that even the media was pointing out the unusually long hiatus for the Night Baron.

"So about this . . . thing . . that's not really a thing with Mouri-san. . . Do you wanna talk about it?"

And there was his other issue. Shinichi had long given up trying to explain to Nakamichi that absolutely nothing romantic was going on between him and Ran. Now, after their earlier predicament, it became even more difficult to deny. His friend was convinced that the two were simply trying to keep it under wraps. That for some reason they didn't want anybody to know they were seeing each other. Nakamichi had already switched to asking why exactly Mouri-san wanted to hide things because he was confident the two were already together and that there was no way Shinichi would be the one wanting to hide it.

Grudgingly, Shinichi wasn't sure if he should be insulted by that last comment. Deeming that Nakamichi was correct and there was absolutely no way he'd want to hide the fact they were dating, Shinichi decided to keep his mouth shut. If they were dating, he wouldn't want to hide it. If they were dating, he'd walk home with her instead of his dork of a friend. If they were dating, he wouldn't have to explain why she suddenly decided to drink from his drink at a group study session. If they were dating, it would've been his idea to kiss the life out of her while running from the police. If they were dating-

Hand flying to his head, he could feel the strands of his hair getting scrunched between his fingers. And just as quickly as the tangent had started in his head, it stopped. As if the only thing keeping it all together was his hand against his head.

What was he thinking? He mentally hissed at himself as his teeth clenched. Entertaining Nakamichi's story. He was spiraling in his own thoughts and elaborating an idea that had not, and by the looks of it, would not be happening. Ran and him hadn't even spoken properly to each other since the last job. If they did, it was curt, in passing, or in the presence of someone else. Meaning it was a guarantee they could not discuss anything that had happened- her actions nor his seemingly obvious to him confession. Which all he could do was assume that was her intention.

He wanted to pull his hair from his scalp, it was so frustrating. Was he supposed to take this as a rejection? Was he not worth the time to say she wasn't interested directly to his face? Or did she think he would not accept her refusal? Did she think that low of him? He wouldn't lie- he liked her a lot. The rejection would hurt but they could at least be friends still. She didn't need to run from him as if he had the plague. Shinichi swore he could see the panic in her face anytime she happened to stumble upon him unexpectedly.

The space that stretched between them seemed to be widening. And worried the gap would become much too big to mend, Shinichi did the only thing he could do.

He found them another job.

At first, his intentions had been different. He had wanted to use this as a way to get her to talk to him; to address what exactly happened between them almost a month ago. If it was on a job, that was a guarantee they would have a moment alone. But at the realization of how that would probably make Ran feel- he paused. He would be cornering her. And that realization made him wince internally.

Shinichi didn't want Ran to feel trapped. He didn't want her to feel like she couldn't talk to him anymore just because she didn't want him the same way. They could be friends still. He wanted that more than anything. The rest, he could learn to deal with. He was well aware more than anybody about how kind Ran was. Her silence was most likely her way of sparing his feelings and easing her guilt about not returning his affections. She didn't need to feel guilt though. She wasn't obligated to feel any certain type of way. Ran didn't owe him anything regardless of how much he wanted it.

If he had considered it, he knew Ran must've come to the same conclusion- that he was trying to force her to talk. It would likely explain why she took her time responding to his invitation of working again. Her response had come in the middle of the night when he must've been dead asleep. Shinichi had only noticed the text message after turning his alarm off that morning.

Shinichi hated to think it, but Ran's presence- in a roundabout way- likely did more harm than good for his well being. He had already gotten a little risker the more jobs he took on. He acted rash and with no regard for his own safety after a certain point. Once Ran's presence in the form of an accomplice was assured, the possibilities became endless. And so did the risk. If Ran hadn't been there backing him, he surely would've been done for numerous times. He knew that. But that was also why he even attempted those risks.

Having their first real interaction since their last job being another mission, was a mistake. Not addressing what had happened between them before starting this, was a mistake. He acknowledged that when Ran still wouldn't even look at him directly. She definitely made sure to keep her distance as well.

Shinichi had already decided before meeting up that he would not be mentioning 'that job'. It wouldn't be right and it wouldn't be fair of him to try that. Clearly however, Ran hadn't grasped that yet. Any moment he would be about to start talking, she would tense. As if preparing herself for the inevitable.

That meant she knew this could've been a perfect moment for him to question her. She knew that, yet she came anyway. Not even the possible awkward conversation of unrequited feelings would she leave him to fend for himself. She had started joining him on these jobs to defend him in the first place. Whether she didn't want him the same or not, it was still nice to know that at least that wouldn't change.

He just wished that she would relax. There was no way for him to tell her he wouldn't talk about it without actually bringing it up. By the time she might've understood that, they had already put their 'plan' into motion. If it could even be called that. How could they plan when neither could even look the other in the face let alone have a conversation?

This whole night was a bad idea. Shinichi had the feeling throughout the night and as things progressed, it only got worse. Why would he even think this was a good idea? Any person with half a brain would've just dodged the bullet and asked to have the conversation. He had already come to terms in his head that clearly she didn't want him that way. He knew that. Her avoidance spoke louder than anything she could ever tell him. Yet he also knew, hearing it aloud and in the open provided a confirmation her silence didn't give.

Shinichi needed to hear it; aloud. Regardless if deep down he already knew. He needed it. If anything for his piece of mind and for closure. He had pined for her for a long time. Moving on would not be easy. It would take time. But the process wouldn't begin until she gave her refusal outright.

Having all of this sit on him, literally weighing down on his mind, just before a job was dumb. Her presence was only making it more difficult as was her refusal to even properly acknowledge him. He wasn't doing much better, he'd admit. But he had tried to bridge that gap and Ran wasn't reaching from her end.

How Ran felt was everything to him. Shinichi didn't want his presence to be uncomfortable for her. He was doing everything- even down to the plan- to show it was okay. She didn't have to feel the same way. It was fine. He would be fine.

Where as normally they would walk in as a couple when it came to balls and galas, he decided they could work this one a little more separately. Shinichi was doing everything he could possibly think of, to show her that he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. And after the revelation a month ago, pretending to be his wife would surely do that.

Ran only got more tense. And that only made him more nervous. Neither a good sign when communication and teamwork was the most important aspect to be able to successfully carry out these jobs. That should've been the biggest indicator that once again, this was a bad idea.

He messed up. He knew that. Even in the moment when he forcibly shoved that guy away from her, he knew he was the one at fault. There was no reason for his actions. No logical one anyway. The only thing that powered him in the moment was jealousy. It fueled and burned through him stronger than anything he could remember. Nothing had ever cut off his thought process so quickly. Not even the time Ran kissed him.

But this was not what he'd been expecting when Ran said she would 'make an opening for him'. The sensation that sunk deep into the pit of his stomach was similar to being sick. That was the feeling he got when watching Ran disappear into a hallway with the 'owner' of this gem.

He didn't trust it. Not the look in the guy's eye nor the impatient tug he seemed to give Ran. Shinichi didn't trust any of it. And no, it had nothing to do with his jealousy. It was for Ran's safety that he followed them; that instead of going the clear way his partner indicated, that he trailed behind the two out of sight.

Nothing to do with his personal emotions at all.

Peeking around the corner to find his partner pushed against a door about to be kissed however was, again, nothing he had been expecting. Yet the reaction was instantaneous.

This anger he felt was different. This was a different kind of rage that reared its head forward. A nasty emotion he had never experienced so strongly. With a mixture of fury, possessiveness, and just about anything in-between, before his brain could even catch up and actually think- he was already across the hall and shoving the man roughly.

Ran seemed as surprised as the guy. Her eyes had bulged when suddenly the arms that had been bracing her weight disappeared. She stumbled in her satin dress but Shinichi was too furious to help her straighten. His attention was too focused on the creep that was still on the floor, mostly in shock. Shinichi had pushed him hard. Probably too hard if it was able to knock the guy off his feet but in the moment, he could care less. There was nothing that could be said to him then that would make him believe this guy didn't deserve it. He had been touching Ran. That was enough for him.

After finally realizing what just happened, the guy's eyes shot up to look at him angrily. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly what made the guy do it. He honestly thought he just initiated a fist brawl. But likely taking one look at the simple fury on his face, the guy stood up while wiping the blood off his bottom lip; the anger gone from his eyes and instead a smirk that was anything but happy. With a promise to get security for the both of them, the guy exited the hall from where they had come.

They couldn't let him go; not if they wanted their plan to succeed. Both of them had to know that. But neither of them did a thing till he was long out of sight.

It was Ran that reacted first. It was his turn to be shoved as she pushed her hands against his chest angrily.

"What are you doing?" She questioned him furiously. And from that alone he realized the shove was more out of panicked frustration than any real anger.

Shinichi was fine with that. He was sure he had enough anger for the both of them.

"No- what are you doing?" His voice was incredulous just like his face.

"I thought my job. You said to get close to him. You told me to make sure he was distracted."

"I didn't mean like that."

Ran sighed as if she were exhausted. "Well what did you mean, Shinichi?"

"I-I don't know- just anything except making out with him," he snapped and in his frustration he couldn't help but stutter.

"Why are you getting so upset?"

It was clear to him then before she even spoke that Ran understood he was mad. He knew that when her eyes softened towards him. But from her question, she clearly couldn't understand why he was mad. And if possible that was making him angrier. Because from his last sentence alone, it should be obvious why he was upset. If they took away everything that had happened between them a month ago, with his words alone that he spoke tonight, her answer was still right in front of her. He wasn't understanding why she just wasn't getting it.

"Y-you can't do something like that!"

"And why can't I? I swear you don't make any sense to me, Shinichi. I was only doing what I thought you wanted."

She was only trying to make his job easier for him. And if he weren't so heated he'd recognize that what she had been trying to do really would've made the job easier. That disgusting lowlife would've been so distracted. But to achieve that in that way was unacceptable to him.

"Why would I want you to kiss him?"

"Why would you not?" she countered.

His eyes blazed. "Are you actually serious?" he asked incredulously.

"You're mad." The way she stated it- it wasn't a question. It was a fact. And he was mad. He was so furious it was almost insane how personally he had taken this. Because this wasn't acting for him. It had never been. He never had to pretend to feel more for her. This was something he wanted. Not just on jobs but all the time. Him and Ran together. Him and Ran being a couple.

And he knew he had no right to be so upset. She never gave any indication that this would happen outside of their side jobs. He was the one that was turning it into something it wasn't meant to be- a reality. But she could at least do him the courtesy of not acting clueless. He had clearly kissed her that night without any other intention except that he simply wanted to. She knew that. She wouldn't of avoided him in their regular daily lives if that weren't the case.

He needed to step back. It was too soon to come back to this when clearly he wasn't over it. There wouldn't be another job until he could get over his feelings for her. And if that never happened, so be it. He was done with this conversation.

Shaking his head, Shinichi went to walk away. "Forget it."

Ran being quicker than him however, shot forward and gripped his arm. "How am I supposed to 'forget it'? You're obviously angry. Just tell me why." And for the first time in this conversation, he saw that she was actually beginning to get mad.

He had already decided what he would do though and instead he just shook his head again. "If you don't get it on your own, then it doesn't matter," he responded calmly.

Ran obviously rejected that idea.

"It matters to me! I played my part in your plan. I was going to do something I didn't even want to do-"

He wanted to argue that he never forced her to join him as the Night Baron. But it didn't matter now because this would be the last time.

"-so you could grab a stupid rock-"

That rock could sell for over 500,000 yen, he wanted to say but instead he remained stoic.

"-and you just storm in here like a jealous boyfriend-"

He was jealous. But he wasn't going to engage in this any further.

"-which we're not together-"

They're not. He knew that. He would work on it.

"-which you made that perfectly clear in your plan-"

He knew they weren't together. That's why he switched up their usual plan-

...

"What?!"

Shinichi was actually stunned into silence. There wasn't a lot that could do that for him either. But to bring up the plan that he made specifically to make her comfortable and complain about it, had him even more aggravated. She seemed like she wanted to continue but he wasn't about to allow that to slide.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he finally cut her off, not even paying attention to what she was currently saying. His earlier idea to just let this whole thing go, vanished as quickly as it had come.

Probably thinking she said too much, her tone got quiet and her face went pink.

Regardless of her obvious embarrassment however, she didn't try to take back what she said. "There's other ways to say you're not interested besides pushing me to the side for some side act. You could've told me how you felt. I wouldn't of left you to do this alone," she said with that hint of frustration still there.

But Shinichi was still stuck. Because now nothing was making sense to him. After all this time and he thought he finally figured out why Ran was avoiding him before, what she was saying now completely contradicted all of that.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he flat out asked.

A frown marred her features. "You know what we usually do as these kinds of parties. You know what . . acts work better here. And you changed that on purpose," she accused.

"You avoided me!" was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

"Only because I didn't know what to do!" she raised her voice with a completely flustered face now.

"How about talking to me-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Immediately their shouting was cut off; both of them jerking in shock before going on the defensive. They were still on a job after all. But once they saw just who it was that had the audacity to interrupt their argument, they both froze with widened eyes and slackened jaws.

Kaito Kid didn't seem to care if he was intruding or not. For some reason, he looked frustrated as he stormed out behind a pillar.

"Are you two actually kidding me?" And the other pair watched as he came closer without a care.

"Some of us are actually trying to work. I've literally been sitting alone in that room waiting and neither of you came to do anything. I could've bailed an hour ago while you guys were griping during a heist. Not to mention the guy I had to knock unconscious on my way over here," he jabbed a thumb behind him and lo and behold the guy he had shoved to the ground was currently leaning unconscious against the far wall. But the Phantom Thief didn't seem to be through.

"Which- how has this not been resolved yet?"

Shinichi and Ran both flushed scarlet and taking that as his answer, Kid threw his hands up in frustration.

"I swear there has been absolutely no progression between the two of you since the first time I saw you. Do you have any idea how obnoxious that is for a bystander?"

"She avoided you because she kissed you and actually liked it," he pointed a finger at Ran who flushed brighter at his words before turning it to Shinichi next who went pale, "and he changed the plan because he thought you avoiding him meant you didn't like it!"

"Do you see how easy that was? Is there anything that you two do not understand?"

At their mutual silence, Kaitou Kid shook his head aggravatedly before spinning around, his cape billowing out behind him. "And you guys are my rivals?" he grumbled bitterly under his breath. "You guys better have this sorted out before next time."

Even long after Kid left, the two remained standing there completely frozen. They both were staring at where the thief had made his exit but neither seemed to want to break the silence first. Neither wanted to be the first to confirm or deny the accusations thrown at them.

Instead, realizing that they were still very much in the open with an unconscious body and that this job was definitely ruined, Shinichi turned a glance towards Ran. Unsurprisingly she was avoiding looking at him again and her face was still insanely red. But his was too and if it were for the same reason. . . then they had a lot to discuss.

"Do-" he started before cutting himself off. He wasn't sure if now was the right time when they were standing in the hall of one of their heists after having a shouting match. But when her eyes flit up to his quickly at the sound of his voice and saw they looked hopeful, he didn't care.

"Do you want to get something to eat. . . with me?" And then he cleared his throat realizing how informal that sounded and that he better be clear because obviously she didn't go off hints.

"Would like you to go out to dinner with me?"

Her face still impossibly red, she bit her lip before nodding slowly. "I'd like that."

oOo

Months later, Shinichi found himself at another gala. It was the usual type of party he hated attending but he'd have to admit as his eyes followed one figure across the room, this one wasn't too bad.

Until it got closer and certain features became clearer and he realized this was actually the worst one yet.

"Ah, Shin-chan, did you see they have a chocolate fountain?" she beamed excitedly before reaching for him.

Immediately he side stepped the arm that went to link with his own making 'Ran' pout at him. Shinichi didn't care until he noticed the confused stare from across him. He had stated this was his fiancé after all and froze when he caught their puzzled looks.

This time, when she went to link her arm with his, grudgingly, he allowed it. No matter if he was cringing so badly inside, his teeth gnashing together irately. "Yes. I saw," he bit out. And barely getting the whole statement out, his champagne flute he held was snatched from his other hand that wasn't currently wrapped around 'Ran'.

Shinichi had to grit his teeth as he watched her swallow practically the whole thing in one gulp. With a cheeky grin he was sure was meant to seem mockingly innocent considering the actual Ran had done this numerous times before, she held the glass out to him with the one measly sip that was left in it as an offering.

"Keep it," he bit out still trying to keep his cool. There were people still watching them after all. And shrugging she downed the rest of it.

Probably noticing the peculiar tension between the two, it was quite easy to dismiss themselves. And as soon as they were somewhere deemed a little private, Shinichi turned angrily.

"Where is she?"

And mocking him further, violet eyes widened comically as brows scrunched in faux confusion. "Where is who?"

The voice was exact. Purely feminine and a complete copy.

But it wasn't real. It was fake and he could tell.

Or rather he noticed the obvious struggle for Kid to keep his knees bent. It was quite embarrassing and even more infuriating to notice that his girlfriend whom he had been trying to ogle had in fact not actually been his girlfriend. But in actuality a hack of a magician doing his best to maintain the height and appearance of a young woman.

More mortified that he believed for a moment this was his girlfriend enough to ogle her, Shinichi had no patience. Fully irritated now, he gripped Kid's arm furiously while snapping in a harsh whisper, "Where is Ran?" The grip only loosened when he realized they were still technically in the open and he forced a small grin at anybody that looked their way.

"Calm down," the still female voice tried to wave him off. "We had a small issue so we had to do a little switch."

Doing his best to ignore that this wasn't actually Ran though it was her voice, Shinichi prodded further. "What do you mean a 'small issue'? What happened?"

"Well something didn't exactly go according to plan and since we both agree your girlfriend has monster strength, I decided as a last resort we can rely on that," the imposter smiled happily.

He was so proud of himself.

Not really sure if he wants to know what that means, Shinichi began heading towards the hall where he knew Ran would be then. "And you just left her there alone."

"What?" Kid pouted. "You don't have confidence in me, Shinichi?" They were in the hall now and Kid was trailing behind him still in that irritating disguise. He had given up on trying to maintain a shortened height and was walking normally, but out of all the things Shinichi could pick apart about the disguise, it was something else that disturbed him more.

"Do not do that," he spun around angrily. It was one thing to call him 'Shin-chan'. Ran would never call him that except for that single time before. But to speak to him how she actually does- it was starting to freak him out.

Kid frowned for real this time. "Don't do what?"

"Stop sounding like her!" He snapped uncomfortably.

Seeming to finally understand, Kid shrugged before saying in his own voice, "Fine."

But that was just as bad. Hearing that voice with Ran's face.

"Never mind- that's worse," Shinichi sighed heavily and fingers went to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Just stop talking."

This was the first and only time they'd ever team up again. Shinichi couldn't believe they managed to talk him into it in the first place. They had been right. There was no point in the two thieves fighting over who stole the ring first when it was clear the goal was the same. Not like last time when the two men both stumbled into a treasure's room two weeks ago wanting to steal the same thing. And after they managed to almost both get caught last time due to them arguing, Ran had been the one to present this idea.

But Shinichi couldn't get over what the dunce had accused him of. 'Stealing his thunder'- as if they were competing to be the most wanted criminal in the fraud department. He wasn't trying to steal anything. As far as he was concerned, Kid could carry all media attention he wanted. Shinichi would never try to take that. But he couldn't help it if fans of theirs constantly argued over who the best thief actually was.

And yes, amazingly that was a thing.

Shinichi resented that though. He was no thief. And after watching him a little more closely, Shinichi realized that just maybe . . . Kid wasn't either.

Neither one wanted the treasure for themselves. Besides Kid's weird rule that he needed to 'look' at the gem before they decided anything. It was clear the Phantom Thief was looking for a treasure and once he found it, he wouldn't be giving it back. Shinichi wondered if that was likely the reasoning for what Kaito Kid was doing in the first place. He had never thought much of the guy. He had always just assumed that he was some mindless criminal that flaunted and attempted to disguise what he was- a criminal- behind obnoxious magic acts. Because that's all they were. Even if sometimes it took a bit to realize how the thief had done it, he always figured it out. There was always an explanation. And that's why Shinichi didn't understand nor did he care to learn just why Kid paraded around like a magician.

But now working with him, it annoyed him, but his curious mind made it easy for him to at least attempt to analyze his behavior.

Kid was doing this for a reason. A reason other than crime at least. He was positive Kid would never try to actually kill or harm a cop or bystander. He always took the treasure and bailed. And every single time, he would read the next day that the treasure had magically been 'returned' to the rightful owner.

Kaito Kid never held onto a single gem he stole. Not a single time.

It was difficult for him to admit, but Ran was right. The two were very similar. Even if they carried it out differently or if their way of doings things were the opposite of the others, their outcome was always the same. Shinichi wasn't foolish enough to believe they had the same goal; that they did this for the same reason. It was clear that Kid was looking for something and once he found it, he would not be returning it. But though he would never say it aloud, the Magician was not a bad person. He always wanted to believe there was no good enough reason to break the law. There was nothing that warranted another person committing a crime. But if that were actually true- then what were he and Ran doing? He wanted to believe they were doing the right thing. And so grudgingly, he accepted that about the Phantom Thief.

Things were very rarely black and white.

oOo

"Who was your nice date?"

The soft voice called over to him gently from up ahead on the path. Recognition immediately pulled his attention away from his feet he had been watching dejectedly; his hands stuffed inside his suit pockets. The words that filtered in however had him perking up.

Supressing a grin he shrugged. "Just some girl I met in college psychology."

Ran blushed slightly but smiled all the same. It wasn't till he reached her that she began walking beside him. "She seemed to be dressed a bit risqué though, don't you think?"

Shinichi peeked over at her as she stayed beside him. She wasn't looking back but he could only assume she was wondering how he liked her dress.

Which he refused to judge after having only seen Kaito Kid wearing it.

Referring back to her question, he snorted. "Probably because the wrong person was in it."

He would've much rather seen the real Ran wearing it.

Finally breaking composure- stopping whatever roundabout way she was trying to ask, she stopped walking. "But it was a perfect copy!" she protested pouting and Shinichi had to wonder what exactly she was after here. He had a feeling he'd be in trouble no matter the answer he gave her.

But perfect? Perfect clone, his ass.

"There are just some things that can't be copied," he supplied simply even though in his mind, he knew exactly what parts of Ran couldn't be imitated.

Ran was not content with his response. If anything, she almost became suspicious as he leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "Like what?"

Realizing he might've steered this conversation somewhere he definitely didn't want, Shinichi swallowed hard when she raised a brow.

"What did he not copy?" she asked outright.

If she wants an honest explanation . . .

Sighing, he looked away, turning his nose up. "Your chest does not sit that high. Not only does he not have any, but your breasts are large. He most likely had to make them rest higher to disguise that. And though your thighs do have quite a bit of muscle, they are much softer than what he presented- not to mention he was actually walking around with his knees bent slightly to accommodate the height difference."

Ran didn't respond right away. Her silence dragged on and eventually he became nervous. He definitely confessed too much. Even if she was his girlfriend, surely it would make her uncomfortable to realize he watched her that intently. And on every little detail as well. But Shinichi couldn't help but to be insulted that she said Kid was an exact copy. That would never be possible. Ran could not be replicated. Especially when Shinichi could pick out so many things that the magician had gotten wrong in his disguise. Of course the detective knew there was only so much one could do in a disguise. But still, Shinichi was too much of a perfectionist and Ran was perfect in his eyes.

Suddenly his arm was being gripped gently and Shinichi blinked oddly when Ran slowly wrapped her arms around his. At first he thought she would be mad. He had openly admitted to ogling her. And if she asked him to be more honest, he would have to say he'd been watching her long before they started dating.

"Thank you," she said softly, startling him by breaking the silence and catching him off guard with her response. The confusion must've clearly been on his face because she turned red again. Her smile didn't drop though.

"It's nice to know that you could tell it wasn't me. . . that all you see if me."

They had begun walking again and Shinichi couldn't help but think he definitely dodged a bullet. But he would've been lying if he said anything else. And though it made him anxious to know that all his thoughts and feelings were out and on the table, he was sick of hiding them. Ran deserved to know exactly how he thought about her. She deserved to know just how much he noticed her and for how long he wanted to be with her.

And if he was rewarded for honestly. . .

"I guess that means you'll have to wear that dress again so I can actually give you an opinion on it," he said nonchalantly even though his gaze continued to rest ahead of him. He hoped it came out like a suggestion because he really hadn't gotten to see her in it. Currently she was wearing jeans and coat after having to give up the dress for Kid's impromptu disguise.

"Can't. I'm pretty sure Kid went home in it," Ran innocently said completely missing why he wanted her to wear it again and bursting his bubble in the process.

Deflating, he changed his mind. "He really is a thief," he grumbled.

Ran raised a brow. "And then what are you, Night Baron?"

"Alright," he said sternly while narrowing his eyes and she began giggling.

Clenching her arms much more firmly around his arm, he felt her chest press against it even more making him gulp. "Don't worry. I have something else I can wear just for you," she whispered.

#dcmk #shinran #fanfic #fanfiction #shinran fanfic #dcmk fanfic #shinichi kudo #ran mouri #maybe a little phantom thief #kaito kid #;)#og #my wrtitng

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writing-on-standby · 3 years

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time of dreaming (pt one)

Summary: Soulmates meet in their dreams from the age of 16 until they meet for the first time. Once they meet, they share their physical and emotional feelings with one another until they die. Tom Holland was just starting to learn how to take over the family business and ignore the urge to find his soulmate when everything changes and he’s found face to face with you. You’ve always wanted to meet your soulmate and spend the rest of your life with them, until you actually meet yours and life changes forever.

Warning: blood, language, violence, angst (this story is gonna be dark so prepare yourself)

part one: the encounter

Tom knew from a young age that his family’s business was dangerous. He knew that he needed to keep what his family did a secret because his family could get hurt if outsiders knew. His father engrained it into Tom’s head that the family business went ahead of everything ever since Tom was a kid. Tom vividly remembered the time he asked his father to come to Career Day at his school. Tom’s father had never hit Tom harder.

When Tom turned thirteen, his father began teaching him how to conceal his identity in dreams in preparation for meeting his soulmate. Tom knew never to argue with what his dad wanted and instead started to train with his father and experts in the field of dream manipulation. He learned from a young age that even though he wanted to meet the person he was destined to be with, he couldn’t, not unless he gave up his family’s business, but he wouldn’t turn his back on his family. It was all he had.

On Tom's sixteenth birthday, he prepared to see his soulmate. He tried to ignore the butterflies that he felt as he fell asleep, excited to see the person who he'd meet every night. Despite knowing that he could never be with his soulmate, he was still shamelessly excited for the possibility of having a friend in his dreams, no matter what he did when he was awake.

He didn't meet his soulmate that night.

In fact, Tom didn't meet his soulmate until a couple months after he turned eighteen. He figured it was due to an age difference, but he didn't care to focus on the why or the logic of dreams. All he could focus on was the excitement of meeting his soulmate even though he knew he shouldn’t feel anything.

"hello?"

Tom felt as though he was floating. He knew he was standing on the familiar pink floor he always stood on when he dreamt. His dreams were lonely, but tonight, he heard you for the first time. He knew that your voice wasn't distorted and he had to ignore the slight flutter he felt when he heard your timid voice. He focused all of his available energy into masking his voice. "Hi."

He turned around, looking for you. His dream world was always the same, but he never knew how to describe it other than being in a soft pink cloud. He stood on a flat pink surface and was surrounded by a warm pink haze. He turned, one more time, and stopped when he saw his soulmate standing in front of him.

He couldn't make out details, but he didn't care. He could see your hair cascading around your face and falling beautifully. The color of your hair was fluctuating and your face was foggy, but he could see your vague features shift into a smile. "I can't believe you're here," you whispered.

"Likewise," Tom spoke, but he didn't recognize his voice. He knew it was the voice you heard, yet it still sounded weird. He ignored the slight tinge of guilt that rang through his heart at the thought of disguising himself from you. He knew he had no choice, but it still hurt him.

"I've been waiting for this moment for years. What took you so long?"

Tom did his best to ignore the ding his heart echoed. He tried to ignore the sadness that ricocheted out of your vocal cords and into his heart. "I've been here."

A soft sigh escaped the vague lips Tom could see. "Me too."

Tom awoke the morning after first meeting you in the best mood he'd been in in what felt like years. He had to physically fight the urge he had to smile as he walked down the stairs for breakfast. He felt light, airy, and happy. Your voice was angelic and the conversation you had echoed around his heart for the rest of the day.

The two of you didn't always meet every night. Tom chalked it up to different sleep patterns or just not being able to remember every dream he had. He could tell that you wanted to meet him, but he kept brushing those hints off. Usually the two of you were only together enough to say a few sentences back and forth, but he cherished his time with you just the same.

It had successfully been almost six years since you first appeared in his dream without meeting you. Tom had officially decided that you didn't live in London. You couldn't have, he reasoned, but the nagging thought in the back of his head reminded him that your accent was exactly the same as his.

Tom eventually came clean to his family that you had met in his dreams. Tom's father was stressed, but Tom assured him that the pair would never meet, despite every part of Tom's body aching to touch you. Tom knew that his family and his business came first. It also wasn't a secret in the Holland Mansion that the reason why his father was so adamant against soulmates was because of the death of their mother, but no one talked about it.

No one talked about anything.

Tom was just starting to learn how to take over the business when everything changed. He was barely getting the hang of ignoring the pain of getting his ass beat. He was barely getting used to ignoring the guilt of killing enemies and breaking the law. He had just figured out how to ignore the thought of one day meeting you and had just stopped craving the small interactions he'd get with you every night.

But the universe was funny in that way.

"Tom," Harrison breathed, heavily. Tom looked up from the computer he was typing on and looked at his best friend. His blue eyes were burning into Tom's. "It's your dad."

Tom knew the tone was too distraught to be anything good. He knew Harrison wouldn’t barge into the study without reason. Tom ran his rough, calloused, and dry hand over his face with a sigh. He tried to prepare himself for the news he expected to get ever since he had started taking over the business. HIs body grew stiff and cold as he tried to prepare for what he knew was coming, but it wasn’t that easy. Life was never that easy.

“He’s dead.”

“I saw him again last night,” Jazmin hummed as she carefully stabbed the lettuce in her bowl. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders, despite her being on call for a shift at the emergency room, downstairs. Her brown eyes looked up to you as she smiled. Her eyes were always warm, but somehow always pierced through the defense layers you built. “Have you seen yours in a while?” She carefully raised one of her arched eyebrows as she waited for your response.

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to remember the fact that you hadn’t seen your soulmate in three weeks. “No,” you whispered. “I know he doesn’t want to meet me. Every time I ask for any information, he leaves.” You picked at the leftover pasta you brought for the impromptu date you and your best friend could fit in your busy schedules. The nagging voice in the back of your mind reminded you that not only did your soulmate refuse to give you information to find him, but he also was hiding his face and his voice from you. It wasn’t uncommon for soulmates to be able to hide parts of their identity, but it was difficult to master the ability to disguise both your face and your voice. When you noticed that your soulmate had disguised both features, you reciprocated by disguising your face to the best of your ability. You hadn’t told any of this to Jazmin, though, because you were embarrassed at the thought of your soulmate refusing to even show you his face or his voice.

“I know he wants to meet you, y/n. Why wouldn’t he? He’d be absolutely lucky to have you,” she spoke, matter-of-factly.

You shrugged. You had always loved the idea of having a soulmate and being meant to spend the rest of your life with someone. It was always a goal of yours to be able to meet your soulmate, but after the first few dreams with your soulmate, you could tell that this wasn’t his intention. The two of you rarely met and it was usually once a month that you would have an overlap in time and meet. “I don’t know, Jazmin. I just -“

Before you could finish, you were interrupted by the scream of an ambulance. You looked out the window you sat by and sighed. By the time you looked back at Jazmin, she was already getting called into her shift. The two of you had both started internships at the same hospital, but in different departments. You usually had a laidback schedule in the Psychiatric Ward, but Jazmin was always busy with her shifts in the Emergency Room.

“Sorry, y/n. I’ll see you later, okay?”

You nodded and began packing up your things. Your shift ended thirty minutes ago, but you stuck around to be able to spend time with your best friend. Once all of your belongings were stuffed into your purse, you stood up and began walking to your car.

Since you worked downtown, you almost always had to park a couple blocks away from the hospital. You usually welcomed the walk as it gave you time to prepare for your shift and decompress afterwards.

Tonight, the sun was setting over the horizon, painting the world a hazy pink. You smiled, softly, thinking of the dream world you always seemed to meet your soulmate in. Every place that soulmates met was unique to the couple. You were shocked when you met your soulmate in a beautiful, warm, pink world. Seeing the real world mimic your dreams caused a tug in your stomach.

As you entered the near-empty parking lot where your car sat, you noticed a tense exchange occurring. Three men stood, facing another man not too far away. You saw your car on the other side of the group of three and began making your way towards them. You pushed away any feelings of anxiety and tried to push forward to your car. It was a long enough day and it didn’t need to be longer.

“Tom, now is not the time or the place,” the man on the left spoke. He had piercing blue eyes, but you quickly looked away from the group and instead pretended to send a text.

“I don’t care,” the man named Tom snapped. You could hear the pain in his voice, causing your eyes to find him. You recognized the grief that screamed through his words. His large brown eyes were bloodshot and tears were stained on his cheeks. His hands were clenched into tight fists and you noticed the blood caked on his knuckles. Your heartbeat sped up as you slowly walked closer.

“What’s wrong, Tommy boy? You not ready for the crown? Pathetic,” an Irish accent mocked from behind you. You were close enough to the group to now be in the middle of the commotion. You tried to pick up your pace, not wanting to be in between this intense exchange.

“Shut the fuck up, Luke,” Tom growled as he took a step forward.

“What’re you going to do, Tommy boy? Shoot me? Try. I dare you,” Luke chuckled. Before you could register what was happening, rough hands gripped at your arms and you were pulled roughly against the Irish man, identified as Luke. Fear danced from the man’s fingers and up into your chest. Your heart pumped the fear through your veins and into your bloodstream. The man gripped you tighter as you felt a cold metal dance along your arm. You tried ignoring it, but the fear was bubbling up your throat and into all of your thoughts.

You closed your eyes, trying to think of the man you had met in your dreams. The man you were destined to spend the rest of your life with. The man that was your soulmate. “Let her go, Luke.” Your eyes opened and your gaze was locked with the man named Tom. His eyes were cold and calculated, but you noticed that him and his two friends took a step closer to you. Your heart was racing and you tried to say something, anything to get this man to let you go, but the fear swallowed any attempt to speak.

“Come and get her, Tom. Or are you going to let another poor innocent person die today?”

Before you could process what was said, a searing pain exploded from your chest. You looked down and saw a large and deep gash that started from the center of your chest and followed the line of your collar bone to your shoulder. Blood began pooling out of the wound as you cried out in pain. Your head began growing lighter as you shut your eyes in pain. You heard the men in front of you yell various threats and insults to the man who was holding you hostage. Your brain began to process that you were in a life-and-death situation. Without thinking, you threw your foot into the stranger’s knee and kicked as hard as you could. The man groaned as his grip loosened. You threw your elbow back into his stomach, causing his grip to completely disappear. You took a few steps away from him, but your brain was clouded with the pain of the massive gash on your chest. Blood was dripping down your arm and onto the cement, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was getting as far away from this man as fast as possible.

Despite moving as fast as you could, the man caught your right shoulder and yanked you back. You heard a pop as more pain erupted from the same shoulder he had cut. You knew it was dislocated, if not broken. Panicking at the thought of being killed, you started throwing your fists at this man, but your vision wasn’t focusing on anything as the blood was pouring out of you. You knew that it wouldn’t be long before you lost enough blood to be damaging. The man gave you sickening laugh as you felt his knife sink into your stomach. You screamed in pain, feeling his knife pierce through your skin and into your organs. You had enough training in the hospital to know that pulling the knife out would cause more damage, but your hand still groped the handle of his knife as you stumbled back. A warm feeling danced up your throat as you coughed blood on the cement.

You turned and stumbled further away from the group, but your feet were heavier than cinderblocks. You began to fall to the cement. Before your shoulders and head could hit the ground, you were caught. You looked up at the man who had stopped the impact and saw those blue eyes you had connected with earlier. You blinked a few times, growing tired and pained. “Hey, hey, look at me,” the man whispered. “It’s okay, you’re safe. Just focus on me and nothing else, okay?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but you were instead interrupted with another cough. You knew it was blood so you turned your head and spit onto the cement. Sure enough, a dark sticky substance hit the ground next to your head. You looked back at the man in front of you. Your head was spinning and you were struggling to ground yourself in reality. You lifted your hand and put it on the man’s cheek. You noticed the blood that covered your hand and your arm. You gasped at the sight and dropped your hand to your side. The man chuckled, but the sight wasn’t comforting since you had covered half his face in your blood. “It’s okay, hon. I’m Harrison, what’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you croaked. Speaking hurt, breathing hurt, everything hurt. Your eyelids slipped shut and you heard the man above you asking you to open your eyes. You forced your eyelids apart and looked back into his piercing blue eyes. “So hard. So sleepy.”

“I know, y/n, help is on the way, okay?”

You looked up at Harrison’s blue eyes and felt safe. You nodded, slowly. “I never met my soulmate,” you murmured. “I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t,” Harrison spoke with a smile. “We won’t let you.”

You slowly nodded. Before you could respond, the man referred to as Tom sat down next to you and Harrison. “EMT’s are about a minute out. Luke’s taken care of.” Tom’s voice was beautiful and strong as he spoke to Harrison. He looked at you with his bloodshot and pained eyes. “You’ll be okay.”

You sighed and slowly gave up on the fight to stay awake as your eyelids slipped shut. Maybe you would meet your soulmate. Maybe you wouldn’t.

part two

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland au #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #soulmate au #soulmate!tom #soulmate!tom holland #soulmate fanfiction #soulmate fanfic #au #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland fanfiction #au fanfiction #au fanfic #writing #writer #time of dreaming

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minavalentina · 3 years

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Motion Thickness / Chapter Two

The night air was cool - a welcome relief from the hot California summer. Jake and Amber walked in the middle of the road, enjoying the breeze and not saying much. At 1:30 in the morning, the streets were empty, and it was nice to feel the space around them after the stifling atmosphere of the party. As Jake moved over to some bushes near the side of the road to relieve himself, Amber found herself wandering, head still spinning from the alcohol she'd had earlier and enjoying the brilliant stars pulsing in the calm, still night. She rounded off the main street to explore down a back lane, a shift from the expensive area they were in. Garages edged the otherwise wood-fenced street, and power lines dipped low across from one side to the other. Amber continued strolling, one foot landing messily in front of the other until she noticed something, and stopped dead. Kneeling in the small one-way street was a man, lit by the streetlight above. She jumped for a second, before she realised that she recognised him. He went to her high school. They didn't run in the same circles, but she knew his face. Could probably even come up with his name if she thought hard enough. She had been more arty, more popular, and he had been the type to smoke behind the gym. He must have come down from the party to get some air as well. "Hey." She said lightly, a fraction of a second before she saw the body. A second guy, laying on the ground near whats-his-face, a dark, thick pool spreading out from beneath the head. Amber's blood turned cold. The gun was fired before she even realised he'd heard her. A bullet, frighteningly loud and real, hit the tall wooden fence to her left, and all the muscles in Amber's body contracted. She was frozen, eyes wide and body trembling. He paused after firing the first shot, and studied her face in the dim light. "I know you. You that bitch from art class." He said, voice cold and furious. He whooped out a chilling, abrupt laugh. "Hoo, you in it now." This time, Amber did see him aiming the gun at her. The first shot had been on instinct. This one had intention. He didn't want to miss. The bottom dropped out of her stomach and Amber was running frantically, weaving side to side as she sprinted down the road to make herself harder to hit. Thoughts of regret and 'what if?' flooded through her and mixed with her panic as she heard one, two, three more shots ring out from behind her. She'd just graduated, literally just turned eighteen. She had plans, big dreams. She was going to be famous. She was supposed to become a star. Terror jumbled her thoughts, but not too much to stop tears from escaping her eyes before being whipped away by the wind hitting her face. Amber felt a fourth bullet whistle by her, and she screamed, forcing her legs to pump faster.

“Run, bitch!” She heard him screaming behind her as she tore away down the empty street. “Doesn’t matter though, I seen you before! Best believe I’ll find you.”

Sprinting out of the side-street, she found Jake already running towards her. Clearly he'd heard the shots, she thought. Somewhere in amongst all the feelings rushing through her in that moment, she recognized a tiny grain of warmth, noticing that he had run towards the sound and not away from it. But there was no time to dwell on it, as Amber barrelled into Jake and forcibly spun him around with her hands to face the direction she was running. "We gotta go!" She yelled, giving him a few panicked shoves to get him started. "We gotta go, we gotta go!" He ran with her, the two of them hurling down the road until they were a few blocks away and closer to the main road. The road was still deserted but the taillights flashing by on the highway nearby, as well as the illuminated windows dotted around the surrounding houses made them feel like they could stop for breath. "What happened?" Jake asked, rubbing her back as she bent, gasping for air. "He tried to kill me!" Amber wailed, straightening up and throwing her hair from her face. "He killed someone else! There was someone else there. Dead."

"It's okay." Jake was shaken, but he tried to calm her. "We got away. He didn't follow us."

"It doesn't matter." Amber said with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "He knew me. He goes to our school, Jake. He said he was gonna find me and he can!" She sobbed, shaking, and wrapped her arms around herself. "He was going to shoot me dead right then. He tried. He'll be able to find me if he wants to."

She sniffed, cheeks wet with tears, looking completely distraught. She wouldn't meet his eyes. "I don't know what to do. Everything was about to be so good. I don't want to have to move away, I love this city. This is where I'm meant to be." As she spoke, the night's events began coming together in Jake's mind to form a scrap of an idea. It was out there, strange, and he wouldn't have dared come up with it at any other time, or to any other girl. The more he thought it over, he began to breathe faster as Amber turned away, holding her hair back and fanning her face in an attempt to calm down. It was a wild plan, that was for sure, but the exciting secret she had shared with him not even two hours earlier fit strangely well into her new predicament. And suddenly it all became so perfectly clear, that Jake was speaking before he even realised it. “Amber, this is your chance.” He said, quiet. Confident. “Chance for what?” She asked, despondent. “He saw your face. He threatened your life. Clearly you need to disappear.” Jake said. “I don’t wanna leave L.A!” Amber cried. “I begged my parents to move here from Ohio when I was fourteen, this is where I’m meant to be! I can’t give that up just when I’m about to start my career, just because of one fucking assho-“ “Amber.” Jake took her by the shoulders, cutting her off. "That's not what I meant. He knows what you look like. So you could either leave... or you could change." She was listening now, the certainty that he spoke with seeming to calm her enough to let him get his idea out. And he was excited, the more he thought about it the more he fell over his words in his haste to get them out. “Think about it. You don't want to hide away in Albania for the rest of your life, and despite what seems to work in the movies, dyeing your hair just isn’t enough of a change to gamble your life on." Jake levelled his eyes on her, speaking slowly, landing each word with impact. "But you told me, only a few hours ago, that you wanted to change the way you look and now that’s-” Amber's eyes widened when she realized what he was talking about. "No!" She exclaimed, face reddening. “Oh- no, no, no.” “Amber, get fat.” Jake held her by her petite waist and looked deep into her frightened eyes. He could feel her shaking. “It makes sense. If you put on even a half of the weight that you told me you wanted to, I bet you'd be damn near unrecognizable.” “I-- I can’t!” She stammered, not meeting his eyes, embarrassed by her earlier admission. “I can’t do that.” “Why not? You said you wanted to.” Jake said. “You do want to, don’t you?” She hesitated, clearly embarrassed. “...I was drunk.” “I know you were.” He said. “But were you telling the truth?” A long pause hung between them. She was sober now, stone cold sober. Time, shock, and fear had wiped away any trace of inebriation. She’d have no excuse for anything she said now, no way to explain it away if she regretted letting him in on her most private, darkest fantasy.

“Yes.” She said, finally. It was a half-whisper, she barely made a sound. Heat rose in her cheeks as the realization of what she had just admitted hit her. She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

Jake’s eyes were dark when she looked back at him, pupils blown wide and whole body seemingly vibrating with excited energy. “Then do it now.” He said. “This timing, it means something. You can pile on weight, as much as you like - you can transform yourself, and it might just save your life.”

“But… it doesn't happen that fast, Jake! It won’t be much of a disguise if they’re watching me slowly f…” Amber wet her lips, still not used to saying the words anywhere other than in her own head. “F-fatten up. He'll have enough time to kill me before I look any different at all.”

“Then we’ll leave.” Jake rushed his words, excited. “Just for a while. We’ll take my car and we’ll leave town tonight. And from the second we reach the city limits until when we return, we’ll stuff you full of so much fattening food that the Amber who comes back to L.A. will be in no danger of being recognized.”

She took a step back, more out of surprise than anything else. What was that word he had used? “We?” She asked. “You want to… be a part of this?” “Yeah.” Jake admitted. “Desperately.”

Amber studied him carefully. For the first time that night, he was the one under scrutiny. And, considering the night she’d had, he supposed that was fair. “Do you like this?” She asked. She sounded half accusing and half intrigued. “I thought you were just interested earlier because it was a crazy thing to say but it's more than that, isn't it? Come on. After what I’ve told you, if you don’t think it’s weird, then fucking put me out of my misery and tell me!” “I don’t think it’s weird.” Jake said, before he could stop himself. “I like it. I... I-I want to see you get fat, too. I think it’s really hot that you wanna do that to yourself.” Amber’s mouth had fallen open, and for a moment she was just silent. Jake let her process. They were still standing out in the open, barely a few blocks over from where they had run from. There was an urgency to move, but this revelation of their shared understanding caused a sudden calm to fall over them as well. ”Okay.” She said. A small smile crept onto her face, and her eyes twinkled as excitement swelled inside her. “Yes. I want to.” Jake sucked in a breath. "Are you serious?" Amber nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Yes, I want to do it. I need to live in Los Angeles, I'll regret it forever if I don't. And I won't risk my life, I have so many plans. A reason like that to get big... it's... it's perfect."

It made a kind of sense. It sent chills of excitement through them both to think that such a hedonistic act could save her in this way. It was permission. The moment Amber had said okay, reality started setting in. Her head swam with questions, thrill, fears. Despite the years spent fantasizing, she had no idea what it was like to be fat. How it felt, not only to be fat, but to become fat - to grow a thin body fatter. Did it hurt? Was it uncomfortable? And what about the embarrassment? Her face would change, maybe after enough weight no one would be able to recognize her. Maybe not even herself.

#weight gain story #wg story #wg fiction #gainer fiction #wg writer #weight gain #weight gain writer

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heartofsnark · 3 years

Text

This Is Love (Chapter Twelve): Evil Comes In Disguise

Notes: This one is shorter than others but it felt like it took me so much longer, I blame Cyberpunk 2077 for stealing my one braincell for a while. Also, I have a tendency that the longer it takes me to write something, the more insecure I feel about it, so I ended up cutting this chapter a bit shorter than I originally intended. But I think it works and I hope you enjoy!~

Word Count: 8686

Chapter Warnings: Talk of physical assault, hospitals, POV switches, Joseph visions, me trying to write police investigations/interrogations to minimal success and struggling to write Jerome for the first time properly.

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

And the clock ticks and ticks and ticks and ticks. Every second feels like an eternity. Every moment of silence seeming to stretch on for hours. Her nerves fray with each one, worry blooming like a flower in her chest. The tension palpable as the three deputies and Sheriff wait to hear what will become of the town pastor. Dahlia’s mouth starts running before she can stop it; to distract herself or her distraught friends, she doesn’t know.

“How long have you all known Pastor Jerome?”

“Oh, Jerome’s been in Hope for…fifteen years or so,” Whitehorse tells her, thinking a minute over the exact timeline.

“He took over the Falls End church when I was thirteen,” Hudson adds, “so yeah, fifteen years.”

“Wow,” Dahlia can’t help but exclaim, astounded by just how long they’ve all known the pastor, he’s been with the county for more than half of Hudson and Pratt’s lives.

��St-,” Pratt swallows his words then starts again, stuttering, “still remember my mom making me give my first confession to him…I was terrified I was gonna go to hell, get kicked out of church, break my mom’s heart.”

“What did you do?”

“His mom caught him looking at porno mags,” Hudson rats him out, laughing. Whitehorse cracking a smile and Dahlia snickering.

“I was eleven, shut up,” he tries to defend himself through his own laughter, “yeah, Jerome thought it was funny too, told me everything was okay and then it was.”

Rook can just imagine it, Pratt as a kid, terrified that god’s going to smote him for looking at a tit. There’s a bittersweet quality to the four smiling and laughing at the memory; the anxiety and fear still looming but it’s a little easier to breathe. The weight crushing down on them is a little lighter than it was before.

“If he makes it out of this, we need to go back to church,” Hudson tells Pratt after a beat of silence.

“We do, don’t we?”

“Officers?” A man in a doctor’s coat calls out to them, the same one who stitched her head back together before.

“Is he okay?”

“We stabilized him; we got the bleeding under control and it looks like we won’t have to transfer him after all, he should be fine to recover here. We’re still monitoring him, but things are looking up.”

There’s a sigh of relief; maybe just from Whitehorse, maybe from all of them. She can’t even tell. Things are looking up, Jerome is likely to live and none of them will lose someone who clearly means so much to them.

“What exactly is it that happened, doctor?”

“Someone out in the valley called 911; the heard scratching at the door and when they looked he was collapsed on their front step. That’s all we know at this point, but as I told you, this was clearly an assault. The bruises, the bleeding, it all matches with brute force assault and with the severity we do believe it was multiple people who attacked him.”

“Who the fuck would wanna hurt Jerome?” Hudson asks, more to herself than anyone else.

“You’re all free to stay in his room, so you can question him when he wakes up, but I don’t know how reliable his memory will be with what he’s been through.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

The four go into the hospital room and Dahlia clenches her jaw when she sees him. Bruises mottle and color the friendly face she’s seen around the county; a myriad of red and purples across him. One eye swollen, stitches and bandages in places where the skin broke. They were trying to kill him; that’s all Dahlia can think. This was an attempted murder, his body is hidden under a hospital gown and blankets, but she can see from his arms that the damage extends over his body. A IV gives him a steady drip of fluids to keep him stable, a heart and oxygen monitor letting the staff know he’s staying that way.

“Jesus fuck…” Pratt whispers under his breath.

Hospital coffee and more stories of the pastor pass the time as the four settle in; the time Jerome comforted an emotional fourteen year old Hudson when she spilled communion grape juice on her white dress. Whitehorse talks about how often he’s visited the church to talk with Jerome.

Hours pass of the four talking, Dahlia downing five or more paper cups of coffee across the time. And then a cough sound rings out, a shift of fabric, the pastor slowly waking up. Whitehorse calls out for the nurses; the deputies shifting in their seats as he comes to.

The nurses flood in, checking on Jerome’s vitals, ensuring he can comfortably sit up in his bed. He’s an older man, not as old as Whitehorse, but probably as old as Jacob or Joseph. Mid to late forties. With short dark textured hair and a dark beard.

“What the hell happened?” Whitehorse asks when the nurses are done checking on the Pastor.

“John Seed,” The pastor begins, and Dahlia clenches her jaw, “he and members of Eden’s Gate kidnapped me, he tried to force a confession from me and when I didn’t comply; they beat me and left me in the woods. I tried to get help the best way I knew how, but I passed out before I could speak to anyone.”

Dahlia doesn’t have time to think, to ruminate on what this means, what might be going on; Whitehorse telling her to grab the evidence collection kit he brought in. There’s not much to be collected, but their best bet of getting any conclusive evidence is swabbing Jerome’s fingernails. There’s nothing to get fingerprints off of, no weapon, no duct tape, no bindings. No bodily fluids exchanged, thankfully for Jerome’s sake. But, if he fought back, grabbed at his attackers, there’s a chance the blood under his fingernails could belong to them. That he managed to gouge their skin deep enough to leave a trace.

“Sorry, this might hurt a bit,” Dahlia gives a gentle warning when she sees the broken and bloodied state of his nails, gently swabbing blood from under them, making sure to collect from each finger before dropping it into a vile.

“I think I’ll make it,” he manages to say, a slightly dry laugh, his voice deep and resonant.

“I know you will, but still don’t wanna add to it.”

“Jerome, you said John Seed, did you recognize anyone else?”

“Lonny, Theodore, and Patrick were the only ones I know I saw…The way John talked he was doing it because of Joseph, that he ordered it… Eden’s Gate is getting worse every day.”

“Don’t worry, Jerome, we’re gonna do everything we can, Hudson, take the sample back to the station to see if we can match it to anything already in our database. Pratt, Rook, want you to start pulling the peggies in for questioning and getting DNA. Start with Lonny Stevenson, Theodore Rossi, and Patrick Michaelson. No arrests, not yet, just questioning. We’ll handle the Seeds later, alright?”

“Understood.”

There’s a heavy tension in the cruiser as Pratt and Dahlia climb into it. Jerome is alive, there’s a weight to what he’s told them and to their duty to get justice for him. Pratt’s knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, jaw clenched, and shoulders wrought with tension. Pastor Jerome has been an important figure in his life. She can’t imagine how hard this must be for him. She thinks of how much worse she might feel if it were Lloyd or Whitehorse in that hospital bed, someone she were close to. Dahlia squeezes Pratt’s shoulder as they drive, hoping her empathy shows through the touch. Even as strangers, her stomach is in knots, though it may be because of her…connection to the accused.

Despite their constant encroachment on boundaries, stepping on the line but never quite over it, Dahlia had maintained her hope that the Seeds and their flock were good at their core. That’s why she turned Cassie into their hands, but everyday there’s something new. And this is the worst yet. If they’ve truly done this, if they’re ordering full out assaults on people, that does a lot more than just cross the line.

One of their three main suspects, outside of the two youngest Seed brothers, works at the Green-Busch Fertilizer Plant, an Eden’s Gate owned business. And for possibly the first time since she began working in Hope County, Dahlia is the one leading the charge as they get out of the cruiser, Pratt not trusting his own voice.

“Patrick Michaelson,” she calls out and a man steps out, “we need to have a word with you down at the station.”

He’s generic by Eden’s Gate standards, too long hair and a scraggly beard. His arms are covered, so she can’t check for scratches or bruises along them.

“I in any trouble, deputies?”

“Just need to ask some questions; Theodore Rossi or Lonny Stevenson here? We need a word with them as well.”

“No, but I could ring ‘em for you?”

“We’ll chat first, then you can call them from the station, alright?”

“Whatever you say, officers.”

The last thing she wants is for them to have a chance to put together a story and alibi before they start questioning them. They allow Patrick into the back of the cruiser, he seems to be maintaining his cool. And the tension in the car only strengthens as they take him back to the station. Dahlia watches him in the mirror along the way, waiting for some sign of anything to peek through, for a sleeve to ride up and to see scratches from Jerome’s nails, something. But nothing of the sort happens.

Dahlia has never actually had to interrogate or question anyone, she realizes once they’re at the station and having Patrick take a seat. She doubts he’ll give them much information. If he’s innocent, he won’t have anything of interest to tell. If he’s guilty, he won’t want to tell them much of anything. Getting a DNA sample is what’s going to be the most important thing, if they get some conclusive evidence, something that links one of the Eden’s Gate members to Jerome’s assault the rest will come much easier.

“Coffee?” She offers, as she pours black coffee into three paper cups.

Patrick murmurs a small thanks before he drinks from the cup before they start asking him questions. Hours pass of trying to ask the same questions in slightly different ways or tones. Dahlia trying to stay friendlier in her tone while Pratt is terser, due to his personal connection. But getting more than a ‘I was at home, last night,’ is like trying to get blood from a turnip. He refuses to give a DNA sample as well.

“We about done here?” Patrick asks with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Fine,” Pratt grumbles, “I’ll walk you out and you can ring Lonny and Theodore for us.”

Dahlia taps her fingers against the table as the two men walk out, breathing a sigh of relief when Patrick leaves his coffee cup. It takes a few minutes and then Pratt comes back, he collapses into his chair and groans, she can feel the stress radiating off of him.

“Well, that was a waste of fucking time,” he grumbles.

“How you figure?”

“How you figure anything else?’ He looks at her incredulously, like she’s grown a second head and breathed fire.

“Left his cup,” Dahlia pokes at the little Styrofoam cup, “our property, we wanna swab it for DNA, our business and don’t need anyone’s consent for it.”

“I’ll run it down to evidence, you brew another pot for the next two.”

“On it.”

Pratt runs that down, the cup bagged and labeled with Patrick’s name, she’s sure. Lonny and Theodore aren’t far behind. And their questioning goes much the same. They don’t give particularly direct answers and refuse to give DNA samples. Theodore avoids talking as much as he can, mostly opting to glare at the deputies after his first insistence that he has no idea why he’s here and has no obligation or desire to talk. But, he does at some point break his sourpuss expression to take a drink of coffee. Lonny is cockier, more aggressive, making snide comments but he drinks coffee at some point too; so that’s all that matters.

By the end of it all, three cups are sent down to evidence to be swabbed for DNA to be tested against the DNA found under Jerome’s fingernails. If it’s from any of them, they’ll know by hopefully the end of the day. Evidence based cases are rare around here, so the forensic team stated they can fast track it, hopefully

Pratt and Dahlia rest in the bullpen office, Hudson joining them. There’s a somber air to the entire office. Hudson’s leg bounces with nervous or angry energy, Dahlia isn’t sure which. Meanwhile, Pratt is wringing his hands until the skin rubs raw. Their worry is palpable as they wait for either more information or direction. The oppressive silence has started to weigh on Dahlia’s shoulders, she’s tapping her fingers against a table.

“You know,” Dahlia says after too long, “you guys can go see Jerome if you want, I’ll call if any info comes in.”

She knows they’re worried about him and want to be there to check on him. There’s no reason for them to sit here and suffer when she can just let them know when the analysis comes in.

“We’re not gonna leave you to man the station by yourself,” Pratt dismisses her out of hand, as if the idea that she can be left alone is ridiculous.

“I think I can manage for an evening, anything happens, I know how to reach you all.”

“I’m going,” Hudson declares, “I trust Rook and I’m driving myself crazy here.”

“Thank you, Hudson…” Dahlia says with soft smile, Hudson actually trusts her and isn’t acting like she’s a child.

“You coming?” Hudson asks Pratt, looking at him expectantly.

“I’m not leaving Rook here alone.”

“I’m an adult, you know that, right?”

“If Eden’s Gate was willing to attack Jerome, who knows what else they’ll do. And you’re already on their radar, were before this.”

“What, you think they’re gonna storm the station?”

“Who knows anymore.”

“I don’t have time to listen to you two bicker, I’m leaving,” Hudson tells them before walking out of the station.

Dahlia chews her lip once she’s left with Pratt. This is already a stressful day and not the time to let her wounded ego guide her behavior. But it is wounded. She’s not a child, young sure, but not a child and by no means incapable. Pratt has been coddling her and trying to limit what she does since the beginning of her job, she thought it was lessening, but… Does Pratt seriously not think she’s competent enough to be left alone for a few hours? Is she that unreliable? Incapable? Does he think that little of her?

She doesn’t lend a voice to these insecurities or anger; not the time or place.

“Don’t pout,” Pratt says after a few minutes.

“I’m not.”

“You are, I can physically see you pouting.”

“Even if I was, it’s not important.”

“Seriously, Rook? You wanna be a brat right now?”

“Seriously, Pratt? You wanna be a patronizing dick right now!?” Her voice is harsher than she intended.

“Deputies?” A voice calls out, one of the workers in their piddly little forensic department poking their head into the open office.

“Yeah?”

“We got a match for the DNA found under Jerome’s fingernails.”

“Who’s our guy?”

“Patrick’s matched, we couldn’t find any traces of Lonny or Theodore’s.”

“I’ll call Whitehorse,” Pratt says before getting out his cellphone, “figure out what we’re doing next.”

Dahlia only nods, not trusting herself after her outburst. Her fingers still tap tapping against a desk as Pratt speaks to the sheriff. She can only hear Pratt’s side of the conversation as he explains what they were just told and agrees to whatever Whitehorse is telling him, before he hangs up.

“So, what’s our next move?” Dahlia asks, voice cracking more than she’d like.

“Arresting Patrick and questioning the Seeds. He wants a lighter touch with John and Joseph, his words, not mine.”

“Lighter touch meaning…?”

“They can be questioned together if they want, given a day and the chance to come in on their own terms. Whitehorse doesn’t want us ruffling their feathers unless we get something conclusive on them.’

“I’ll never get why he wants to walk on eggshells around them.”

“Because they’re nuts and got a good hundred or more people who’ll fight for them.”

Dahlia shrugs, she gets that, she guesses. But its still hard for her to wrap her head around that the men she’s met could order an assault on someone else. A part of her is still holding onto the hope that Patrick just acted on his own, that John and Joseph had no idea. But, Jerome says John was there. And John’s not exactly a face he could confuse with someone else…

“C’mon, let's go get Patrick.”

He’s at his house at this late hour, knocking in the door of his little farmhouse. Patrick answers the door, face souring the moment he sees the officer. His lips are sealed, not speaking a word to the deputies as they read him his rights and bring him into the station. He refuses to speak for a long while, even as they book him and try to ask him a few more questions.

“I wanna call my lawyer.” Is all he says after an entirely too long drag of silence.

“John, your lawyer?” Pratt asks.

“What of it?’

“We need to have a chat with him too,” Dahlia informs him, “so we’ll be happy to call him for you.”

“Fine.”

Dahlia stretches out her back as her and Pratt leave the interrogation room, this day has been her longest yet, but they seem to be getting somewhere. She looks over to Pratt.

“Want me to call up John or you wanna do the honor?”

“I will, they like you too much.”

“Have zero idea what you mean by that, but alright.”

Pratt grabs the station phone and rings up John’s number. Dahlia chews her fingernails as she waits, biting away at them and chipping her nail polish in the process. When she runs out of nail that goes past her fingertips, she chews at the skin. Mind racing as Pratt talks to John, she feels like her thoughts and feelings are tearing into two directions. What she wants to be true and what evidence supports. The older deputy hangs up the phone and Dahlia looks up at Pratt expectantly.

“John says him and Joseph can be here in a few hours, chances are Jacob will be with them.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Anytime either of them have been questioned, Jacob’s there, just to look mean I guess.”

She nods, thinking of what she read so far in the Book of Joseph, of the abuse in the Seed family. It doesn’t shock her at all that Jacob has a protective streak, that he wouldn’t want his younger brother’s far out of sight. She does find herself wondering why Faith isn’t following alongside her siblings as well. Her fellow deputies didn’t seem to know much of her at all, Hudson not even knowing what she looks like. Hell, the youngest sister hasn’t even been mentioned yet in the Book of Joseph. Though given the hefty age difference, perhaps she wasn’t born yet during the memory Joseph chose to open it with?

Dahlia takes a seat while they wait for the Seed brothers, graciously accepting the cup of coffee that Pratt offers her. Her leg taps as she drinks at it, listening to the clock tick away as she waits for the Seeds. Her fellow deputy sits next to her and she can tell the day has been wearing on him. She doesn’t know why, what it is that pushes the impulse forward, but she thumps her head onto his shoulder. A soft form of contact, comfort, whether it’s an offering to him or a selfish desire of her own, she isn’t sure.

But Pratt responds by leaning his head towards her, over top of her own. His hair tickling at her skin and his scruff scratching at her skin. She can’t help but smile and press in a little closer, just appreciating his presence in this quiet moment after such a drawn-out day.

“Shit!”

Pratt’s sudden yell jolts Dahlia awake, her skull knocking against his. She blinks sleep from her eyes, when did she even drift off? How long was she sleeping against his shoulder? Her hands and the bottom of her jeans are wet; the cup of coffee and it’s contents now on the floor as well as her shoes.

“Fuck,” she curses under her breath, she must have dropped it when she fell asleep, “sorry.”

Dahlia goes and gathers up paper towels, cleaning up the mess. She didn’t even realize she was that tired.

“Don’t sweat it, shit has been crazy around here lately, I nearly dozed off myself.”

“You telling me this ain’t typical.”

“God, no, county’s usually more boring than watching paint dry. Lately, feels like county’s gone nuts.”

“Eh, I prefer the crazy, keeps things interesting at least.”

“Deputies,” the on shift desk worker pops their head into the room, “the Seed brothers are here.”

“We’ll be there in a second.”

Dahlia finishes cleaning up the mess and sighs, that weight back on her shoulders. It’s way past their usual shift hours and the day as a whole has been a lot. But they may finally be getting to the root of what happened. They’re getting some justice for Jerome, Patrick is a damn near guaranteed arrest. They just need to get to the bottom of John and Joseph’s involvement. She took this job to help people and that’s what she’s doing, Jerome has a right to feel safe in this county and as much as she hopes the Seeds are good, if they’re hurting others, it needs to be shut down and now.

Mess cleaned; Dahlia and Pratt go out to the waiting room to greet the Seeds. John and Joseph look relatively cleaned up. Though John always looks some version of prim and proper. She’s positive she’s never seen the youngest sibling in a shirt that wasn’t a collard button up and she’s certainly never seen his hair in any state other than slicked back. His shirt of choice today is purple, no vest or trench coat, just the buttons left undone to show the sin marked across his chest and the sleeves rolled up to show the tattoos across his forearms.

Joseph is wearing a shirt which is an accomplishment for him, a stiff white button up done up to his throat and a black blazer over it, nearly overkill in the heat of August. Perhaps he only wears clothing in extremes, either half naked or completely covered. His greasy dark hair is pulled back as usual and despite the late hour, his yellow aviators are on.

And then there’s Jacob, black tee and jeans with his typical camo shirt tied around his waist. Dog tags, key, and rabbit’s foot hanging from a chain around his neck as they always do.

They’re superficial observations, what the brothers wear, but she can’t help but take in the stark contrasts of the brothers. Joseph trying to look more put together and less crazy, John in that same state but every day, and Jacob genuinely not seeming to give any sort of a fuck.

“Deputies,” John is the one to greet them, grinning and Dahlia folds her hands behind her back, trying to still her body and straighten her back to present a confident front.

“John,” Pratt returns the acknowledgement with a nod, “I-“

“It seems you have one of our flock members contained on the bas-“ John cuts off Pratt.

“We actually would rather speak with you and Joseph before we discuss that case,” Dahlia cuts the youngest brother off in turn, not letting him dominate the conversation or set the tone for this.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I assume, you’re both comfortable with answering some questions for us?” She cocks her head to the side, trying to stay nonthreatening, not that her five feet of being could ever be threatening.

“Of course, that would be no problem at all,” Joseph is the one to speak next, giving her a smile, eyes soft despite the circumstances.

“Actually,” Pratt cuts in, a twitch in his jaw, “I’ll be asking those questions alone.”

“You’ll what?” Dahlia levels a glare at her partner, ready to throw him through a window, but unable to do so. He’s pushing it, he keeps pushing it.

“I think it’ll be best if I conduct the interrogation alone.”

“Oh, do you?”

“You girls need a minute, or can we get this shitshow on the road,” Jacob says, the deep rasp of his voice cutting through the spat. And she doesn’t miss the clench in Pratt’s jaw at the emasculating choice of words.

“Come on back; sorry for the trouble,” Dahlia says, a tight lipped smile as she leads the Seed brothers to the interrogation room. She’ll deal with Pratt and his overprotective bullshit later. It’s a quick walk down the hall and she politely opens the doors for them, she thinks she sees Jacob rolling his eyes.

“Go ahead and take a seat, we’ll be just a moment,” Dahlia tells them, giving a small nod when Joseph thanks her. She lets the door shut behind the Seeds and turns her gaze back on Pratt.

“Rook-”

“What the actual fuck, Pratt?” She keeps her voice low, but her tone is terse, how could he try to strong arm her out of the interrogation.

“Look, you’ve spent a lot of time with them, regardless of if you’ve wanted too or not. They’re fixated on you and you’re just too close to them to be interrogating them.”

“You’ve known them longer than me! You’ve known them for years! This is a rural county, it’d take me longer to meet all the cows here than it would the people!”

She wants to wring his neck, he’s entirely too protective of her and for no real reason. More now than ever she realizes she made the right call not telling anyone about the mute “angel” Eden’s Gate member who swung on her or the vandalism of her trailer. Pratt already barely wants to let her handle ticketing people and now he doesn’t want her interrogating suspects. It’s ridiculous. She’s a grown adult woman, she needs to be allowed to do her fucking job.

Dahlia is done listening to this nonsense, she decides, and makes a beeline back to the interrogation room. Pratt isn’t going to stop her from doing her damn job. She opens the door, her coworker trailing behind her, as she steps into the interrogation room.

The Seed brothers are sat at the table. Jacob’s legs open wide, sat relaxed in his chair, completely disinterested by most appearances but he still watches the deputies from the corner of his eye. She’s reminded of a predator lulling prey into a false sense of security before it strikes.

Joseph sits between his elder and younger sibling. His elbows on the table, hands politely folded, not a hint of anxiety in him either. Seemingly calm, but his gaze is intense on the young deputy as she enters, never straying away from her. He never looks over at Pratt, the other deputy’s warning that they’re fixated on her ring through her mind.

John is sitting back in his chair and his gaze is just as intense, but there’s more manic energy behind it. In him in general. Perhaps he’d look calmer, more serene like his brothers, if not for the constant bouncing of his leg, the movement starting to shake the rickety table.

“Sorry about that,” Dahlia starts before Pratt can find a way to force her out of the room, “would either of you like any coffee or anything before we chat?”

“No, thank you. We’ve done this song and dance before, deputy, you can’t sneak dna off of us,” John dismisses her off with a sneer.

“Okay then, no coffee, understood,” she rescinds her off as she sits down at the table across from them, Pratt sitting next to her.

“Look, let's cut the bullshit,” Pratt speaks up, “a person was attacked, beaten badly. We got evidence, won’t say what, that connects one of your church members to the attack. And its being alleged that he did so on Joseph’s order with John supervising the whole thing, and...you’re just hear for window dressing I guess.” He gives a dismissive look to Jacob at that last part, no doubt his attempt to give a little revenge jab for his comment earlier.

“Why I’m here ain’t any of your concern, princess.” Jacob says, voice low and the threat within it not subtle.

“Okay…” Dahlia cuts in with a clap of her hands when she sees the way Jacob and Pratt are glaring at each other, this is an interrogation not a pissing contest, the last thing they need is Pratt trying to fight Jacob and getting his ass kicked, “this is already going off the rails, good job everyone. Now, while his wording was...abrupt, uh that is the reality of the situation. There are some heavy accusations being levied at you two, so we were hoping to ask you a few questions.”

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” John responds, rolling his eyes, “these are completely baseless accusations.”

“We do have evidence linking one of the men, a member of your church, to the assault. Our witness and survivor is credible. At this point we have no reason to believe they’d lie about what occurred.”

“They persecute us the same as they did the prophets before us, the faithful handed over to courts and councils, sheep sent out amongst wolves,” Joseph speaks sudden, voice intense as he stares into Dahlia’s eyes, a chill rolls up her spine, a tension pulling in her shoulders that she can’t quite shake.

“Seriously,” Pratt scoffs and for the first time Joseph’s eyes leave Dahlia, harsher and colder at the older officer, “you really think this is about your church, that someone would make this shit up just to get at you, think they beat the shit out of themselves too just to spite you?”

“Of course not,” John speaks next and she can’t help but notice the jolt in his body language, “I’ve yet to speak to our flock member you’ve find evidence of. But even if he’s done what he’s accused of, surely, you can’t expect us to be held responsible for the actions of every member of our church. We have hundreds of followers, you cannot reasonably expect us to be accountable for any of them who may stray from our ways.”

“The witness specified you were there, John. Not just accountable, but physically present for assault.”

“And there’s no evidence of that, you said so yourself, and as I’ve told you before, there are many in this county who aren’t above taking any chance to sully mine and my family’s name. Who’s to say, they didn’t see their assault as an opportunity to bring down our entire church.”

“May I ask where you were last night?”

“Had dinner with my family, as I always do, and stayed in for the night. Rather boring, I’m afraid.”

“Anyone who can confirm this story?” Pratt asks and Dahlia tries not to roll her eyes; his family would be the ones who can confirm it and ...they’re mostly here and biased.

“My brothers who are sitting right here, my sister if you feel the need to ruin her night as well.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“Then are we done here?”

“This isn’t a formal arrest or detainment,” they don’t have anywhere near the evidence or that, “so, you’re free to leave if you so please. Though, there’s still the issue of Patrick who requested counsel with you.”

The brothers have made it clear they want to leave and that the deputies won’t be prying any more information from them. So, Dahlia escorts them out.

“You two can go on home,” John tells his brothers, “I’ll call someone to get me once I’ve sorted this out.”

“We couldn’t possibly leave you behind, we’ll wait,” Joseph squeezes John’s shoulder than looks to Dahlia, “assuming that would be okay.”

“Of course, don’t expect you to ditch your brother.”

“It is tempting sometimes,” Jacob mumbles under his breath, a smirk pulling at his lips when John glares at him. Rook has to press her hand to her mouth to avoid laughing at the brotherly teasing.

“Jacob…” Joseph gently chides.

“Regardless, you two are welcome to sit out in the waiting room, there's a vending machine if you need anything or if you’re not interested in that I’m sure Nancy can get you set up with coffee or food from our break room.”

“Thank you, deputy.”

“I’ll be out, shortly,” John says the final word pointedly as his brothers go to the waiting room, then turns to the deputies, “which room is my client in?”

“Room 103, I’ll be right in, go on and get settled,” Pratt tells him and John leaves down to the room where Patrick is being held. Dahlia holds her tongue until the youngest Seed brother is out of hearing range.

“Think we can get anything else out of them?”

“Fuck no, he’s going to tell Patrick to keep his mouth shut, insist that there’s another explanation. Like getting blood from a turnip, we’re just going to have to deal with what we have. DNA should be enough to convict Patrick, as for the rest, we’ll have to see if Whitehorse feels we got enough to do a full investigation. But, we don’t have much.”

“The evidence against Patrick might be enough to subpoena Joseph’s sermons, get warrants to search the church and houses?”

“Maybe,fuck,” Pratt rubs a hand down his face, he looks exhausted and she’s sure she’s not much better, “what time is it?”

“Nearly four in the morning.”

“Fucks sake, okay, their foul mood makes a bit more sense.”

“Yeah, I can take care of the talk with John and Patrick, like you said won’t be getting much from them, so you can head home or check on Jerome.”

“No, no, absolutely not. I’ll take care of this, you go home and get some sleep.”

“Pratt-”

“Rook, you were the one passing out on top of me. Go home and sleep.”

“I-”

“Please, for once in your life, just listen to me.”

“Okay, just this once,” she bows her head, feeling like a scolded child, “but we do need to have a serious conversation about you babying me, you know that right?”

“I don’t baby you.”

She blinks and widens her eyes, has he heard a single word he’s said to her all day. Refusing to let her stay at the station alone, not wanting her to call John, and not even wanting her to be involved in the interrogation. And that today alone, she can’t count the amount of times he’s told her not to be the one to issue tickets, to stay in the car during calls. She knows they’ve lost an officer in the line of duty. And she knows she’s a lot younger than Pratt or Hudson. But this is her job as much as it is theirs.

“Okay,” Pratt scratches at the back of his neck at the incredulous look, then gently puts his hands on Dahlia’s shoulders, “serious conversations can wait until we’ve both slept, alright?”

“Fine, I’ll go home and crash, get yourself some sleep when you finish up here, okay?”

“Okay, will do.”

He drops his hands from her shoulders and gives a small pat to her arm as she turns to leave. As much as she’d rather Pratt be the one going home to get some much needed sleep, she can’t say she won’t be thankful for a chance to crash.

“And Rook,” Pratt calls out before she can get through to the waiting room, she turns to look at him, “stay away from the Seeds, please.”

“Don’t push it.” She rolls her eyes, overprotective ass, she pushes through the doors to the waiting room.

Dahlia gives a friendly nod of acknowledgement to Joseph and Jacob as she moves past them, looking towards Nancy.

“I’m gonna go home and crash for the night, any news comes in, don’t hesitate to call me, alright?” She explains to dispatch, not fully trusting Pratt to let her know if it’s up to him, throwing on her leather jacket and already searching for her pack of cigarettes. She’ll catch a smoke break before she rides home, her nerves needing the nicotine fix.

“Alright, dear. Drive safe.”

Dahlia waves a quick bye to both Nancy and the Seed brothers before she leaves the building. The air is cold, temperatures drop quick at night out here, a start contrast to the hot muggy days. A dark sky hangs above her except where stars breach the abyss. Goosebumps prickle up along her neck where the air hits, she put a cigarette between her lips and lights it, breathing nicotine deep into her lungs. She tilts her head back, blowing smoke from her mouth, white billowing around her.

“Deputy,” Joseph’s voice calls out and chills run along her spine, “you know, smoking is really a terrible habit.”

“We all got our vices,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, making sure to blow the smoke away from Joseph.

“That is true, I know that better than most…”

She nods when he trails off a bit, his church seems to focus a lot on sins and vices, overcoming them she assumes. Sins marked across the skin of so many of its members. Silence falls across the two, for once Joseph breaking eye contact, a rare moment for him.

“Is there something you wanted…? Can’t imagine you’d rather wait out here in the cold.”

“Yes, actually, I think there’s a lot we need to discuss. Faith told me you have concerns about your friend, Cassandra.”

“Cassie, yeah,” she corrects, not sure why it bugs her so much to hear them using Cassie’s full name.

“Yes, John always was wishing to speak with you regarding the orchard and… I’d hate for this… incident to color your opinion of me and my family.”

“I understand and I’d love to talk all this out with you, but-”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“Yeah, sorry,” she frowns, feeling bad about it, “its been a rough day and I just am ready to crash, I’m sure you must be exhausted too.”

“Of course, I understand, which is why I’d like to invite you to have dinner with me and my family.”

“Uh, what?”

Dahlia blinks and coughs on cigarette smoke, taken aback by the sudden invitation. He’s here for an investigation, she just interrogated him, and he’s concerned with inviting her to dinner to… preserve some sort of good image? While a formal investigation isn’t opened on him or John yet, needing warrants and authority to do anything more, but one is right around the corner.

“We try to have dinner as a family, my brothers, sister, and I, as often as possible. A luxury we couldn’t indulge in for so much of our lives, I think it’d be a wonderful opportunity for us all to speak and for you to know my family separate from church or police interrogations. So, would you like to join us for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Uh…”

This could be her only chance to talk to him about Cassie before a formal investigation is launched and it becomes a conflict.

But it could already be a conflict, since they are hopefully not far away from launching that investigating.

But, she could use it as a chance to probe around, see if she can unearth anymore evidence in the Jerome case.

But, anything procured without a warrant wouldn’t be admittable, so the most she could do is see it and then know what to go back for once they secure a warrant.

But, even just getting a chance to ask questions without the environment of an interrogation room, might get some truths out. As well a chance to ask about some of the other strange things going on in the county. From roadblocks to the issue of the weird “angel” that assaulted her.

But, they could be dangerous, if they do have anything to do with Jerome’s injuries…

But, she’s not weak and it’s not like she's looking to antagonize them. She can ask her questions and be polite.

But, Pratt would kill her. He literally warned her to stay away from the Seed family five fucking seconds ago.

“Sure, I’d love to,” she tells him, ultimately unable to say no to his earnest little smile.

“That’s wonderful, our dinners are at John’s ranch house, I’m not sure I have anything to write the number down on…”

“I can use the memo app on my phone, what is it?”

“Oh.” He seems taken aback for a moment when she gets out her phone, but recovers to prattle off the address, Dahlia typing it in.

“Did I get it right?” She asks, moving to stand closer to Joseph’s side, so he can see the phone screen.

“Uh, yes, that’s,” he reaches out to touch her phone and accidentally closes the memo app, pulling his hand away like it burned him, “oh.”

Dahlia can’t help but laugh, watching the older man fumble to deal with tech. He’s older, sure, but he’s not pushing his sixties or anything. He ducks his head and she can see a very subtle flush of red flare up his cheekbones. Its the most human he’s ever seemed to her, just an older man who hates phones, embarrassed that he has no idea how to use one.

“Don’t worry, it saved,” she explains, pulling it back up.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Alright, see you and your family tomorrow.”

She tucks her phone back in her pocket and waves bye again, getting on her motorcycle. Dahlia slides her helmet on and starts the journey back home, mind racing and heart heavy with the events of the day.

Joseph sits in the passenger side of the truck, Jacob driving and John sitting in the back, as they leave the police station. It's late, nearly early enough for him to be waking up. John made a grave mistake, trying to punish Pastor Jerome for leading people astray, away from Eden. A noble intention, but he did it out of wrath and anger, letting someone else’s sin fuel his own. His impulses placed them back in the sight line of the police. They can recover from this easily enough, as frustrating as it is. The bigger issue is once again working to reign John in and working to change the junior deputy’s view of them.

The Lamb plays a vital role in the collapse, she was chosen to be the one who brings about the end, how exactly she will do so remains to be seen. But, he’d rather she do it alongside them stepping into New Eden by their side after she helped cleanse the world, rather than doing so in spite of them with no understanding of the gift she was given.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Jacob scolds their younger brother, always protective of the project and them being found out by law enforcement, he’s more than a little irate about John’s mistake.

“Jacob…” Joseph still chides him for cursing, a nasty habit his eldest brother struggles most to break. If Joseph’s being completely honest, he’s not certain Jacob is trying to break it all.

“Pastor Jerome is a fraud, he is leading people astray and spreading lies about The Project, he had to be taught a lesson.”

“Who cares? His people abandoned him for us, John. He can talk all he wants, no ones fuckin’ listening.”

“Oh, so suddenly you’re above corporal punishment, are you going soft on me, Jacob? Do you allow your soldiers to say whatever they please, reward them for their insolence?”

“Jerome’s not a soldier and unlike you, when I teach outsiders a lesson, I’m not dumb enough to let them walk away from it.”

“Brothers, stop,” Joseph speaks over them, not yelling, but his tone stern enough to end their incessant arguing, he makes eye contact with his youngest brother through the rearview mirror “Jacob is right, John.”

“But Joseph-”

“You endangered The Project, our mission, our family; for the sake of satisfying your own wrath. You put all of us at risk and for what? So, you could indulge in your sins?”

“He was spreading lies, telling people you were dangerous-”

“And that made you angry, it made you wrathful. And so you lashed out to make yourself feel better, instead of speaking to me, instead of seeking out the word and confronting the sin inside of yourself, you sought to quell your anger through violence.”

“I’m sorry, Joseph.”

“I know. Righteous anger and swift justice has its place. There will be times to cut off the hands that wrong us, but this was not one of them.”

“I understand… I already spoke with our flock members in the station, they’ll dispose of the evidence and secure Patrick’s freedom. Without it, the investigation will end and he won’t be punished for my mistakes.”

“I knew you’d take care of it in the end,” he tells him, watching the relief flood John with the smallest amount of praise after being scolded, “I invited the junior deputy to dinner.”

Jacob slams on the brakes on a thankfully deserted back road, causing Joseph to jerk against the seatbelt and John to slam his face against the seat in front of him. John yells out from the sudden impact and Joseph turns to look at his eldest brother in confusion.

“God damn it, Jacob!”

“John!” Joseph scolds when his baby brother takes the lords name in vain, he can see a bruise forming on John’s forehead already.

“He tried to kill me!”

“Am I the only one who understands that we’re criminals?!”

“In the eyes of man, perhaps, but in the eye of -”

“Eyes of man are the ones that matter, right now, Joseph! You’re inviting a fuckin’ cop into our lives, into John’s house. A cop who just interrogated us less than a fucking hour ago and you want to feed her for her trouble.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were scared, brother. Jacob Seed, scared of a little girl.”

“Well, its a damn good thing you know better, or that shiner would be the least of your problems, brother,” Jacob nearly spits the word brother, glaring daggers at John.

“Jacob,” Joseph gets his older brother’s attention, Jacob has always been the strongest willed, has always asserted his opinions even if he’d do anything for the family, “are you doubting me?”

“No, of course not, I just don’t understand why you’re doing this?”

“We have cops within our flock, Jacob.”

“Yes, converted cops who benefit us. This deputy can’t walk into a church without puking her guts up, she’s a problem waiting to happen.”

“She has been making a problem out of herself, trying to keep me from purchasing the orchard, enabling the greed of this county.”

“Look, I know it can be difficult to understand, you’ve not heard what I’ve heard. The Voice hasn’t spoken to you, as it has to me, my decisions are not without reason. Reasons that will be revealed in time, the junior deputy is important, bringing her into our flock is a priority. Understood?”

“Of course, understood, Father,” John concedes, using Joseph’s formal title. Joseph looks to his eldest brother, who’s scarred jaw is still clenched tight.

“Understood?” He repeats himself, he knows Jacob wouldn’t go against him, but his willful nature… something Joseph was envious of in childhood now leads to the occasional butting of heads.

“Understood.”

Jacob starts the car back up, driving Joseph and John back to their homes. John to his ranch house and Joseph up to his church, where he has a cot in the back of it. The sun is starting to come up when Jacob drops him off at the church compound, before driving back to Saint Francis.

Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, Joseph is quick to return to his quarters, a headache starting to creep up along his temples. He changes for bed, then kneels before his bed, bowing his head for prayer and folding his hands together. Hands pressed together tightly, his rosary pressing into his skin.

And he prays.

He prays for John to find his way, to battle his sin and win the fight.

He prays for Jacob to one day fully let go and accept the word.

He prays for Faith not to stray from the path.

He prays for his flock and family, he prays for their faith not to wane, he prays for them to be strong enough to weather the collapse, he prays for the persecution of his family to end, and he prays that he can save more souls; specifically the junior deputy. That he can find a way to reach her heart, help her see her gift, and learn the importance of her role before it’s too late.

Then a sharp pain shoots from his temple across the rest of his head, like lightning shooting through his skull. The darkness of his closed eyes fades away into a new world, a vision of New Eden, a paradise he’s been shown and promised so many times he knows the sight of it by heart. The bright blooming pink flowers and modest homemade homes of a commune, a return to nature, to innocence.

His family and flock there, older versions of themselves, dressed in more rustic handmade clothes. Less clear and less certain than last time. But he sees John, Jacob, and Faith with children clinging and playing around them. And he can’t explain the feeling, that they’re all his children but his siblings as well.

The five year old boy with a head of dark curls and blue eyes that looks so much like Joseph as a child, the boy who called him papa.

A girl around three with bright ginger hair, a face covered in freckles. She grins and blinks, sun in her eyes. She reminds him so much of Jacob, head held high with a crown of red.

Maybe a year younger, another girl has straight dark brown hair and big wide blue eyes. Eyes that remind him so entirely of the young baby brother he cooed at as a child.

The oldest of them, clings to an older Faith’s skirt. A young boy of ten maybe tweleve, so much older than the smaller children. Hair dark as pitch, olive skin, and green eyes setting him apart. He looks different from the others, perhaps his family tie not one forged by blood.

His family, those he has now and those he will gain, the family he will be gifted. But, there’s something missing…. Pieces of the puzzle not yet in place.

Weak clumsy fingers grab onto his bed as his vision subsides, the reality of the world he’s still in returning to him. His head pounds and throbs, agony radiating throughout it, as the collapse draws closer his visions are getting more and more frequent. He can only hope as he falls into bed that he’s keeping himself and his family on the right path to find paradise.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #this is love

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sleepylixie · 3 years

Text

The Twilight Renegade- Spellcaster! Lee Know

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: As fantasy as it can get!

Beware of violence(a mild dose of it), mentions of an unhealthy household. Minho is a tricky lil shit and I loved writing him-

A/N: THIS FIC DOES NOT REFLECT THE CHARACTER OR LIKENESS OF THE REAL LEE KNOW IN ANY FORM OR MANNER. ONTO THE FIC!! I enjoyed writing this wayyy too much 💀😂😂 The idea of having Minho be a dark wizard was so appealing for reasons i am yet to comprehend. ANYWAYS. ENJOY!!

Requests are open for SKZ and BTS! || Masterlist

The Twilight Renegade.His name is passed from ear-to-ear in hushed whispers, his story told at children’s bedsides, the bard’s bonfires and old wives’ kitchens.

There’s so much known about the legendary dark wizard and yet, his existence remained shrouded in a cloak of mystery.

Where did he come from? Was he mortal? Did he sell his soul to the Devil?

It was said that the Twilight Renegade travelled the world cloaked and under disguise, sometimes not as a human, providing justice and retribution to those who couldn’t find it for themselves.

Where the Renegade came a- knockin’, treachery went a-runnin’, chorused the old song that every travelling musician worth his salt knew the words from memory.

Some said he was a poor orphan who died and was reincarnated by a magician hunting for a protegee.

Some claim to have known him as a child, a strange little boy who grew up with blood on his hands and bones in his pocket, he was always a strange one until he ran away from his family to never be seen again.

Some swear up and down to have seen his true face, singing praises of beautiful eyes and seductive lips like a maiden but a dead smile that betrayed his true nature.

If only they knew his true nature.

Said Twilight Renegade went by the name Lee Minho when he was off the job and was nothing more than a cat parent with a penchant for goodwill trickery.

In the spring days, a smiling young man wandered the marketplace with fresh game, bartering pleasantly with the baker and the butcher, greeting the maidens with a wink as they cooed at the 3 cats frolicking at his feet.

Of course, it was all a pretense-

the maidens only ever had eyes for Minho’s angular jawline and his sharp nose, his strong shoulders and lean yet built frame

sigh

He was an oddity, the sweetheart of the village.

Lee Minho lived in the corner of the village by himself for around 1/3rd of the year, then leaving on work trips the very day autumn begins to set in

He only reappeared again the morning summer awakens in their village, after almost 10 months away.

He’d bring back exotic spices for the old wives, pretty gemstones for the little girls and daggers for the little boys-

he was generous, the sweetheart of the village.

He’d always laugh away the questions thrown at him about his work trips, surrounded by hot-blooded young men in the crowded bar.

“Nothing interesting, I promise you,” He’d smile his mystery smile, tipping back his beer. “A lot of trading and a lot of travelling. You meet a lot of new people. That’s pretty much it.”

He was mysterious, the sweetheart of the village.

Little did those hot-blooded young men know how truthful, yet false his words were.

Lee Minho was a 400 year old dark magician, born into a small home of supernatural oddities.

His father was the last dark magician of a lost cult, his mother a necromancer from a family of elementalists.

He grew up with a rocky childhood, a shattered home where fights between a power-drunk father and alcoholic mother raged more often than not.

They had nowhere to go but home, they told Minho every night, for they had no family left but each other, and of course, him.

This young boy with lilac eyes and a penchant for spell-casting grew up more in the wilderness than in his own home, finding the crickets and owls safer than breaking glass and raging screams.

He found himself a love for animals-particularly of the feline type, cooing at the kittens in the ditch and unabashedly playing tag with the panthers over no-moon nights.

Minho’s parents were united in one front, however; they knew they had to leave their son with all the magical knowledge they’d ever gained over their years.

So Minho became his parents’ apprentice-He learnt to harness dark energy, to reanimate cat skulls and then cat skeletons, to bind the shadows to his bidding, to build incantations that would suck out his enemy’s power,to read minds, break minds

The more Minho’s power grew, the darker his eyes got- by the time he was 20, his eyes were bordering a deep royal purple.

He was his father’s pride and his mother’s joy, the apple of their eyes despite the hate they harbored for each other. He could almost believe that they were a normal family if he spent as long as he could out of the house with his feline (dead and alive) friends.

It was on one such night that he made his way back home just before sunrise, only to scramble back into the bushes and watch in terror as a battalion of humans tore his house apart with pitchforks and fire,

Drag his mother out by the hair, chanting WITCH. WITCH. WITCH. WITCH.

Watch his father be overwhelmed by the sheer brutality of mortal weaponry, succumb to age and fall, broken and very, very dead, from the way his head hung off his shoulders

Watch his mother burnt alive in front of his house’s doorstep, left to die with her husband.

And felt something crack inside him.

There were limits even a necromancer couldn’t cross, even after the loss of their loved ones.

Minho was distraught, understandably so. Having to watch his only family be butchered by a senseless mob had him bristling in a mix of emotions he couldn't differentiate.

He stayed in the woods with the owls, crickets and assorted felines, hunting game and satiating his human hungers.

He wished he wasn't human anymore. He wished he didn't have to be associated to a race of people that killed and let kill without a second thought, under the name of humanity.

Weren't his parents human too?

It was that exact thought that had him pulling together all of the magic running in his veins and perform his possibly last, potentially dangerous spell-

Nobody knows what happened in the Twilight Woods that night, but nobody would forget the raucous screaming that emanated from there for hours, like a young boy's screams of pain

And nobody would forget the piles upon piles of bones that laid at the edge of the woods

Human bones.

Every pitchfork wielder who had turned up at the witch family's house to burn the inhabitants were reported missing that very day.

Turns out Lee Minho had a skill other than feline whispering and spell-casting: he had an uncanny knack for staying alive

That final spell he cast in Twilight Woods was an incredibly dangerous spell that involved sucking out surrounding life forces- enough to make the caster virtually immortal

And of course he chose the people in the mob, not the sweet animals in the woods.

His new immortal status gave Minho a purpose in life.

He decided he was going to rid the world of all the lowlife scumbags that felt privileged and entitled to things and people who didn't belong to them.

Word travelled fast, even in thise times, of a dark wave that swept out from Twilight woods into the surrounding towns in a matter of months

Woman abusers and rapists found without genitalia, slave traders dead of uncurable disease

Cheating nobility hung by their coattails in town squares for their victims' amusement, their rightful money returned to them

The dark wave had a sense of humor.

When one of the stragglers of the dark wave swore that the dark wave was a person, a man, dressed in twilight purple and a dangerous smile

Townsfolk took to calling him the The Twilight Renegade

Minho took the name to heart, for what was he if not a newly immortal spell caster with a sense for the dramatic

He wore purple all the time, a mockery of the colour scheming nobility claimed for themselves

What a nice twist of irony would it be, to have your fate decided by a lowborn magical spellcaster who wore the colour of luxury better than they?

Everybody knows the story of the magical Robin Hood who came from questionable origins, but lived life with a love for trickery, feline companions and an unflinching sense of good.

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misstvirus · 3 years

Text

** RESIDENT EVIL VILLAGE SPOILERS **

I decided to put this on tumblr so I could hide spoilers from Twitter and full explain why I gave Resident Evil 8 the score 5/10

These are my opinions and my personal review of Resident Evil Village. Everyone is entitled to their opinions and I am in no way saying that anyone’s experiences or enjoyment of the game are invalid.

Please excuse me - I had a hard time trying to put my thoughts in order. This is a game summary and commentary after the first few paragraphs.

I first discuss the graphics, music, etc but it turns into me basically explaining the plot so I could express my dismay at the end. Skip to the last few paragraphs to read my mental nerdy breakdown.

The gameplay, graphics and mechanics are perfect. Each installment since of series since Resident Evil 7 - has improved. The game mechanics while in combat such as switching weapons, healing and guarding are smooth, it’s damn near perfect. The Duke brought a lot of nostalgia and memories of Resident Evil 4’s Merchant. I enjoyed being able to interact to upgrade weapons, buy supplies and sell treasures. The games over all aesthetic, atmosphere and attention to detail. Each location was beautiful and you can see the love, sweat and dedication put into the game. The music is there, it is eerie at times but it’s not as memorable as other installments of the game. Resident Evil 7 had its featured title song, “Go Tell Aunt Rhody” - Resident Evil Village’s “Yearning for Dark Shadows” was not as heavily featured and did not get the hype like it’s predecessor.

Resident Evil Village had a good story (please note this is my thought strictly AS A REVITALIZED RE GAME BEFORE THE CHRIS REDFIELD SEGMENT). The story starts by continuing with Ethan and Mia Winters after the events of Resident Evil 7. I knew Capcom moved in a different direction and accepted that as long time RE Junkie that although it’s from the same universe - they would not be the same type of games. Chris Redfield’s end game appearance in RE7 and a few Easter eggs were the only MAIN (not DLC content) links to the previous RE installments. The new set of villains and interesting tie-ins to village folklore story was a great way to foreshadow the events to come. The village and story behind Mother Miranda and her reasoning for creating the big baddies because wanting to bring back her dead child were good and had this been a stand alone or continuation WITHOUT TYING THE GAME INTO THE RE UNIVERSE I would have liked it fully.

The game starts with Ethan and Mia Winters, a new baby, Rose and are Having marital issues not dealing with Louisiana/RE7 events and Chris Redfield shows up and kills “Mia”. Chris’s team takes the baby and Ethan and knocks him out. When Ethan wakes up in wreckage of a van, without his baby and dead drivers. As Ethan wanders into the woods and makes his way to the village. He discovers something is killing the people and meets up with a group of people who worship Mother Miranda and quickly die by monsters. These monsters are called “lycans” who are products/monsters of the Cadou mold similar/same thing in RE7. Ethan finds himself apart of weird meeting of all five villains - who stole baby Rose and want do some weird shit.

Tada! Ethan has escaped and ends up in Lady Alcina Dimitrescu or “Tall Lady” “Vampire Mommy” castle. You are confronted by her and her three daughters Bela, Cassandra and Daniela.

Let me step in to rustle the jimmies and ruffle the feathers of the Lady D hype group. What you see in the previews is what you get. No more, no less! There is nothing special and there are no redeeming qualities or mentions past notes in game files of Lady D outside your castle encounter. The story isn’t based around her, she’s just a tiny part in a larger story plot 1 of 5 villains/baddies. The daughters are overly sexual and have the most cringe worthy dialog. I love me some sexy characters and villains but the daughters were just so cringe. They could’ve AMPED up the horror with them and created a stronger scare factor but dropped the fucking ball. They were not creepy or scary and brought nothing to the story with delivering lines about wanting to “consume Ethan’s manflesh” “not stale as mother said - tastes so good.” Also to be noted they were not actually vampires but bioweapons. Lady D being a good result to the mold “Cadou” and the daughters the result of the Cadou and mixing of insects. You kill the daughters, get chased by Lady D who eventually mutates into a flying tentacle bat-dragon and it’s done, she gone. Sorry to fuckboys who thought she was bigger player.

After Ethan beats Lady D, he grabs a yellow flask that’s apparently filled with the juice and parts of baby Rose - and each of villains has one of these baby-juice boxes. Ethan will have to collect them all to be able to put Rose back together.

Next visit is House Beneviento. This was the scariest of all five villains and village locations in my review of the game. It reminded me of a Silent Hill installment less a Resident Evil installment - the use of light, sound and overall paranormal factor did bring in a successful horrifying portion of the game . The mutated baby chase was comical yet creepy. You have to hide to escape it and you ended up playing hide and seek with possessed dolls. The entirety of House Beneviento will definitely give you an uneasy feeling. Donna, the woman controlling a doll named Angie is another baddie who you later learn is mentally unstable and uses her abilities to manipulate plants - to cause hallucinations to create the creepy doll house scenario. (Oof it’s hard for me to stay on track). Part 2 of 4 of Baby Rose - which yes it what your game objective says.

Next Moreau, a mutated fish man - gives Ethan the Resident Evil 4 and Resident Evil 5 game play feel - having to complete actions while some oversized bioweapon is looming around and can take you out with a misstep, like falling in the water or moving too slowly. Moreau did not gain any abilities with the Cadou mold, basically his body wasn’t compatible and he just mutates uncontrollably. Mentally slow, weak and kind of a sad story. Ethan runs into Chris Redfield who tells him to stay out of it and than runs away. Ethans fights Moreau and gets another baby juice jar.

Next Ethan faces off and explores a laboratory with Karl Heisenberg - a bioweapon who can manipulate metal (think a less cool and weakly motivated Magneto). He one of the last big baddies - and motivated by being essentially rejected by Mother Miranda. He is the most stable reaction to the Cadou mold. Before Ethan and Heisenberg face off - Chris Redfield comes in - to reveal he was not the bad guy Ethan thought in the beginning of the game. Mia wasn’t Mia but in fact Mother Miranda in disguise- who was attempting to steal the baby Rose which she ended up doing anyway because Chris’s team wrecked with the baby. At this point I’m say FINE WHATEVER, I guess this works

Chris goes into kill Mother Miranda, we the audience discover the BSAA is now not what is used to be. Chris isn’t affiliating with them and his team hides away from them as they attack. BSAA gets struck down attempting to kill Mother Miranda’s mutation - a megacyte squishy organ (that’s keeping her alive and immortal). Chris puts a massive bomb on big Miranda squishy thing and discovers that Lady Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Moreau and Donna Beneviento are all attempts to create a perfect vessel to bring back her own dead child Eva, who died in 1912 of the Spanish flu. It is revealed Eveline, the RE7 little girl mold baddie wasn’t another failed attempt. Miranda has turned baby Rose into baby juice to use with the Cadou mold in a ceremony to bring her dead child back.

AND drum roll please - we find out Ozwell Spencer, founder of Umbrella and the progenitor virus the big Daddy of it all was in cahoots with Miranda at some point in his youth and supported her crazy ass research but had his own stuff going on. WHY?! WHO KNOWS? NOT ME! WHY WAS THIS PUT IN THE GAME. To piss me off? Yes. Chris has also discovered Mia is still alive in jail cell for what reason? who knows? And Mia reveals that Ethan is special!

Cue black screen, Ethan awakes to see to Eveline - the mold baddie from RE7. Eveline explains - that Ethan has been dead and died back during the events of RE7. Jack Baker had killed him and dragged him into the house. So he was dead the entirety of RE7 - That explains why Ethan is constantly dismembered, beaten and walking the mold keeps him alive. Ethan will not survive much longer because his missing heart but is determined to bring back his baby. Weakly he carries himself to fight Mother Miranda with Chris. Mother Miranda performs her ceremony with the baby juice boxes and out comes not Eva (her baby) but Ethan’s baby Rose.

They fight and Ethan kills Miranda, carrying Rose off to Chris but that missing heart is the end of Ethan so he takes the trigger for the squishy bomb and pushes Chris away and sacrifices himself for his daughter. Chris boards a helicopter with Mia and baby and the body of a BSAA solider. Ethan blows himself and the Miranda squishy up. The BSAA soldier turns out to be a bioweapon and Mia is distraught at Ethan being for reals dead and Chris is annoyed and directs the pilot for BSAA Europe HQ. Credits Roll, now we see Adult Rose (baby juice reborn as mold human) visiting her Dads grave it’s apparent Chris has been training her and her bodyguard (?) pulls up and they argue and she goes all combative on him. It’s implied she’s not normal since she was DUH she was turned into baby juice and put back together with Cadou mold they drive off - apparently you can see a ghostly Ethan in photo mode - I don’t know I don’t give AF enough about The Winters family and this game at this point

The End

5/10 - Story (read below)

9/10 - Everything else

- Katie’s Dismay and Final Review and Rating-

Graphics: 9/10

Setting: 8/10

Music: 6/10

Game Mechanics: 10/10

Story: (pre Chris Redfield tie in): 7/10

Story: (post Chris Redfield) 4/10

As a modern game, it was great, exceptional. It checks all the classic horror boxes but isn’t the scariest entry, Resident Evil 7 was a much more scary game. The story is why my rating is slow and it’s based on my biases and years of following the story.

STOP! Don’t want to hear my angry ranting? SKIP THE REST

THE ANGER OF a grown ass Resident Evil Fan.

They should’ve omitted the entire BSAA story and BSAA bioweapon-man and not included those notes about Spencer and Umbrella. This game was solid as a next installment and sequel to Resident Evil 7 until they decided they wanted to tie the original Resident Evil storylines into the new story.

When Capcom decided to breakdown and rebuild the franchise, it was a blow because so many storylines were unfinished. I understand they needed to keep evolving and I was blown away by the result. RE7 was not and did not feel like an old RE Game but it was new and it brought back the horror and fear the RE Games early installments were known for. A new RE for a new generation!

But TO ME PERSONALLY - The positive thoughts and opinions I had of RE7 are sullied by Resident Evil Village. Why try to tie it in as an after thought after such a successful overhaul? It’s a slap in the face! Capcom has created some of the best characters in video game stories just to say fuck them for this overhaul but WAIT WE REALLY LIKE CHRIS AND THE BSAA STORY LINE LET’S BRING IN THE OLD STORY NOW.

Fucking NO.

I don’t know what’s worse reading that fucking note from Spencer or the BSAA bullshit.

So now one has to say... WHAT happened to all of the characters who worked for BSAA or worked with affiliates of the BSAA? Chris goes on his own way - Now what? What happened??? There’s nothing explaining what happened between RE5 and RE6 to RE7! They failed to create that bridge. If they had established ANYTHING in RE7 it would be easier for me to swallow.

If you want to overhaul and change the series FINE but don’t back peddle now. Don’t try to throw it the last few minutes of the game with some lazy writing and a vague cliff hanger just leaving it like this.

And of course one could think - “maybe they will make a new game, maybe another sequel?”..... BUT HAVE Y’ALL seen what’s happened at the end of every RE game since RE4???? We are finally getting a Netflix series in 2021 to fill the time after RE4!!! That was 16 YEARS ago! So how can crazy ass fans like myself really expect them to fix the plot holes?!

My theory is that - in between RE7 and RE village They were working on the RE2 Remake and the RE3 Remake and it was if someone at Capcom finally asked - “If all these new RE players are going to play RE village - don’t we need a way to connect these stories????”

And someone jumped up in a conference room and replied. “FUCK IT LETS JUST TIE IN SPENCER AND THE BSAA IN THE LAST 10 MINUTES!”

I have cried, laughed and loved these games my entire life. Some of my major life events happened because of this series! I have followed every game, collected merchandise, gotten tattoos and met the most amazing people because our mural obsession over this series. That’s why it hurts me that’s why I’m tear it apart so viciously and also why I keep playing. There’s always hope that someone will fix the plot holes and finish the stories that lured in the older RE fans and I will always hold Capcom to a high standard and expect them to do right by the fans. I’m not speaking for ALL older RE Fans or ALL fans and I’m definitely not gatekeeping the fandom. This is how I feel - I’m grateful there is a new generation breathing life into RE but I’m screaming a warning - BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS - there’s a strong chance your favorite characters new or old aren’t going to get an ending or be reduced to a brief snippet in a file you may not not find.

ANYWAYS

Happy to those who loved it, condolences to those who are pissed off like myself

I’m annoyed but I’ll power through!

Happy 25th Anniversary to my longest obsession!

RE Verse coming in the summer, the Netflix series and the remake Live Action Movies.

HERE’S TO RESIDENT EVIL!

#resident evil #biohazard #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #my opinion #video game #capcom #spoilers #resident evil spoilers

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danddymaro · 4 years

Text

Sleep | Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader

Just an idea I had in mind. It’s a Polnareff thing, but I guess if you really, really squint, it could also be a DIO thing,

Maybe, ¯\_(　´∀｀)_/¯

Word count : 2183

She remembers her encounters with DIO, having crossed paths with him more than once.

She’d run from him the first two times, fleeting from the vampire , only because he allowed her to, each time chuckling as she managed to ‘slip’ away.

And she wasn’t stupid to think she’d somehow outsmarted him, or cocky enough to taunt him by living her every day life as normally as she had before. Instead, she secluded herself, hiding from everyone and everything, afraid of even her own shadow, well aware it could just be him in disguise.

She knew that it was only a matter of time before he hunted her down again, toying with her like a malicious little feline, pawing at a cornered, shivering, mouse.

Because to him, it was all a game, while to her, it was a never ending nightmare.

With an incurable insomnia she waited, every night staring up at the ceiling, blankly gazing at it as she felt her heart race, feeling impending doom fall upon her.

‘Why me?’ She asked herself constantly.

It all started after that arrow pierced her...

All the abnormalities and unrest starting from that one event, one that was in-explainable in itself.

‘How did I even survive?’ She wondered, only briefly as it was the least of her worries.

It was tortuous weeks of unease until she finally met with her nightmare...

When he grew sick and tired of their game, he appeared before her, ready to take his claim,

‘Do you still have any fight in you?’ He wondered, knowing the answer as he eyed her, ‘Of course I’d never force you at my side, that’s all for you to decide my dear,’ He thought with a malicious grin.

He’d then shown her the extent of his power, red raining down on her as thuds were heard at her sides, severed corpses at her feet in a second’s time.

She hadn’t even known how he did it, but of all the red stained figures, he was all that was untouched, his alabaster skin glowing white brilliance from his chiseled body, too good for the remains of his slaughter to graze him.

Bloody gore puddled around her and shaken to the core she choked on a cry, her voice failing her, her ability to flee gone.

Her legs gave out before him, pitifully bowing to him, not intending to, but her body seeming to know it’s place before the creature,

“ (f/n) ” He cood, reaching for her.

Her racing heart stilled as he tenderly pressed his cold palms onto her wet cheeks, “You’re trembling...” he said observing her, watching her wide (e/c) eyes as they stared up at him, almost unblinking.

He was a monster...

He was terrifying...

And yet the sight of the golden haired man was so transcendent, he was like an angel descended onto the apocalypse.

Beauty fallen into the macabre...

“P-please...please don’t,” she begged, feeling his pointed, black nails drag over her as his fingers trailed beneath her glossy (e/c) eyes, wiping away hot tears in a way that it would be tender had it been anyone else.

“(f/n)....dear...” he said warmly, his gleaming eyes akin to drops of sweet, warmed honey.

DIO...

He was frighting ...

He was malicious and evil...

He was through and through A monster...

And yet, he was the only thing that could save her. He was the only thing powerful enough to protect her,

‘Only he ...Only he can,’ She thought numbly, melting into his hold, subdued.

“Nothing but DIO can hurt you, “ he promised her, “As well as nothing but DIO can save you now,” he murmured, satisfied as she fell onto his web.

She ignored the splashing sounds beneath her feet and palms, as well as the warm stickiness that smothered them and stained everything scarlet, all while she came closer to the powerful being, crawling to him more and as much as she could.

She was terrified, but at the very least, she knew that she was safe. She knew he could make her nightmares cease, and he could also protect her, saving her from a gruesome fate.

“Only I can,” he reminded her, large hands placed on her protectively , like a large and glorious beast guarding it’s fresh prey.

“Lord ...DIO...” she muttered softly, brokenly as she closed her eyes.

‘I am yours,’

...................................

(f/n)’s back stiffened straight as she shot up, her hazy eyes wide as she startled from her half-sleep state. She’d drifted off for only a moment, but she felt as though she’d been stuck back in time.

The distraught look to her (e/c) eyes soon melted as the black and white dog jumped on her lap, damn near starting her as she was already shaken from her nightmare.

Slowly, she came back down to earth, settling back into the present time where she wasn’t alone.

Where she wasn’t weak...

Despite all the tension in her body, and unease in her heart, she couldn’t help but pull up a gentle smile, “long day?” she asked him with light amusement, seeing as for the most part he went on his own adventures.

As per usual, the Creature didn’t respond, only letting out a very faint sound of a whine.

Meanwhile, Polnareff glared at the creature, his blue eyes darkly trained on the darned mutt.

Relaxed and fully pleased, Iggy ignored the menacing spite, instead laying his head onto his own front paws, his entire, tiny body curled over the (h/c) haired woman's lap.

Lazily scratching him behind his ear, (f/n) yawned into her other hand, her head leaning over to the side closer to the window as she began to drift off again, this time with more ease.

'Damn mutt, trying to act all cute with her,' Polnareff pouted, his gaze still heated.

With him it was nothing but snarls and farts, and with everyone else it was the same shitty attitude, but once you throw a pretty girl in the mix, the dog pretends to be the cutest , sweetest angel put on the planet.

And it was much worse if the lady in question was (f/n).

When she was around he would give her large , rounded sweet eyes, making her coo at even the simplest things.

For a moment he let his attention fall onto the female instead, his glaring eyes softened as he watched her slowly drift off.

'Ah...but I guess it's not so bad,' he tried to reason, a small smile rising as he watched the seemingly permanent worry cease from her brows.

The closer they drew, the more he could see the flesh beneath her (e/c) eyes darken. He knew she couldn’t sleep,and she didn’t have to openly admit it, it was plainly obvious to him.

DIO had nested a terror in her she couldn't shake, one that left her quivering, so much so that even after the wretched flesh bud that possessed her was removed, she was hesitant to betray him.

And it was something Jean Pierre Polnareff could forget,

..........................................................................

(Flashback)

"He'll kill me…" she said with fright, true and utter fear visible in her (e/c) eyes as she panicked.

Her stand rose to protect her as her arms pressed themselves close to her chest, hands trembling as they pressed over her quivering mouth.

"No matter what I do... He'll find me...and He’ll kill me!" She added, while crying out to the silver haired man, “Do you understand what you've done?” she choked out.

He wouldn't have mercy…

He’d see it as treason...

"I'll never be free from this nightmare," she sorrow filled.

That day the Frenchman felt sweetness, a draw to her that was desperate to protect her.

Perhaps it was the part that missed his little sister, trying to find another reason to live, another thing to protect.

Something else to cling on...

He wasn’t entire sure what it was that fueled him, but he drew towards her. As he watched her tremble, he stepped forward, Silver Chariot drawn away.

“You’re going to be alright,” he told her, making sure to be slow with his steps to not alarm her further.

Shaking her head she muttered, “You don’t understand, He’ll kill me,” she responded back, her own stand drawn back.

He was uncertain on why it retreated, not knowing if she had a part of her willing to have him reach out to her, or that her mental state was just so weakened, her ability faltered.

Nonetheless, he took the chance.

His teeth pressed together as he reached out to her, hands placed at her cheeks, forcing her (e/c) eyes to stare right into his,

“ Is this what you call living ? ” he asked her, knowing his voice was rougher than it should be, but he couldn't help it.

He felt himself snapping, something about the woman and her current state making him move in accordance to his heart, any rational thinking telling him to step back from the potential threat being ignored.

“ Grovelling in fear... not living for yourself!” he went on. “wouldn't you rather live for yourself? Live for yourself than die without honor? Die being under control, stuck beneath that monster?” he asked her.

Her mouth moved , but she was wordless, gaping.

"He’s too powerful,” she finally told him, “ And I...I’m afraid...I’m too weak...And I’m all alone...” she said with a voice so small it tunneled in through his cracked heart.

And it was right then and there he decided,

“ He won’t touch you. “ He said lowly.

She began to shake her head, not believing him, not convinced anything could save her, thinking her fate was sealed already.

“I won’t let him ,” He added, “ I swear to you nothing will ever harm you again,” he assured her, “ But you also have to fight...” he told her, urging her.

The others watched, the dark haired teen stepping forward an inch as he spoke,

“Tch, Good grief, “ Jotaro huffed, “ He’s not going to lay a hand on you,” he told her, having had enough of the emotional display. “Not if I've got anything to say about it,” He said while pointing his thumb towards his chest, “And I’m sure we’re all on the same page with that , right?” he said with certainty, inclining his head back to the rest of the crew, receiving nothing but nods.

And for once in what felt like a lifetime she felt growing assurance,

‘You all have fear and yet, you move towards him,’ she observed. ‘Unlike me... ‘She added to herself, smiling bitterly.

She felt self pity, a loathing as well, and at her sides her hands balled, shaking as she pressed her teeth together.

She learned she hadn't been the only one to be forced under his will, because so had the redheaded teenager allied with the Joestars, as well as the silver haired man that urged her to stand.

The same one who still held her face in his hands, knelt right before her.

“I want to go with you all,” she said lowly, “ I want to join you not to be protected, but to end this,” she said raising her eyes to the deep blue’s before her.

Polnareff saw a hardened shine, easily compared to a glowing gem practically gleaming before him, and he was captivated,

Moved by her tears...

loured by her sweetness...

stunned by her glowing valor and will...

By then he was hooked, and slowly, but surely, Jean Pierre Polnareff had fallen in love with the woman for everything she was, aswell as who she attempted to grow into.

And at the time he hadn't been aware of the sentiment growing in her own heart. Unknown to him, the proclamation to defend her stunned her, and while she was still fearful of the deadly creature , she believed him.

She believed that the silver haired man would defend her tooth and nail. She believed that he’d be there for her.

And she also believed in the the men with him, all which assured her the same.

Since that moment she’d been steadfast with her new resolve, not backing away despite the closer they drew to DIO, and even in spite of the taunting assurance of death she’d receive from his minions.

She was unwavering, showing courage, but even then he could see the linings beneath her eyes grow darker.

She’d seemed so tired, that was until the mutt showed up...

He'd noticed that since the annoying dog had joined them she seemed much more well rested.

She even seemed happier…

She smiled a lot more too...

She showed off that sweet grin more often that his heart was now uneasy, not knowing how much more of her it could take before it burst.

Her movements stopped entirely, her stroking hand laying over the dog's head, unmoving.

Iggy huffed, his little body buzzing with snores as he, too, fell into slumber.

"That's actually kind of cute," Polnareff added, shaking his head. " I guess I can hand him a treat afterwards," he reasoned with a smile.

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years

Text

Intentions (Pt.4)

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

Logan felt cold, he wasnt sure where he was but he could hear voices, and those voice sounded angry.

"He's a child! You cant just sweep a child off the street out of nowhere! Even if he is an Auris!"

"Well geez Rhea if I'd known you'd get so angry about it I wouldn't have done it anyways," said another voice, Logan tensed, this one sounded familiar. The voices stopped, Logan heard footsteps.

"Its alright, I'm not going to hurt you, you poor dear, I'm so sorry," Logan felt himself be pulled into the girl named Rhea's lap. He let out a small groan, his insides felt numb.

"Rhea don't touch him! Are you insane!" The other girl seemed frantic.

"I wouldnt be if you'd been more careful!" Logan felt a stinging sensation on his side, he let out a whine and tried to pry himself away from Rhea.

"Shhh, it's alright, it's going to sting a little bit but I promise it's ok," said Rhea. Logan still hadnt opened his eyes, he was exhausted and he had no idea why.

"Silva, get him something to eat would you dear?" Rhea said softly, Logan heard footsteps exiting the room.

"I'm so sorry about her, she gets very easily upset by these things," said Rhea. Logan opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a raspy choking sound.

"Let's get you into a bed," said Rhea, picking him up and dropping him amongst a sea of pillows and blankets. Logan tried to open his eyes again, but it seemed as though they would only open in slivers.

"Oh you poor dear, dont worry, I'm sure some food and water will have you right back to your usual self again, of course I dont know much about that, Silva's obsessed with the Auris family, I swear if our sons end up like her we might end up moving," Rhea said with a laugh.

"Mom! I've got fo-" Logan froze, that was Remus' voice. He heard rapid footsteps and felt a warm hand on his cheek.

"Logie?" Logan leaned into Remus' hand slightly.

"You know him baby?" Rhea said, a questioning tone in her voice.

"Know him? I've kissed him!" Said Remus.

"What? Oh Silva when I get through with you I'm gonna-" Rhea stopped and let out a deep breath.

"Do you think you could look after him for a bit?" Rhea said finally. Remus gave a small 'mhm'. Logan heard Rhea's footsteps leaving the room.

"I'm so sorry Logie, I wish I couldve done something," said Remus, running his fingers through Logan's hair.

"Oh! Right- you need breakfast," Remus pushed Logan up against the pillows so he was sitting up. Remus mostly talked while he was helping Logan, about his family, stuff he liked, how good Logan's hair smelled.

"I guess this probably shows you how I knew where your house was though, I hope you didnt think it was creepy, I didnt mean it like that," Remus said, he sounded sad. Logan blinked again, his eyes opened wider this time, he could see Remus' face. Remus' hair was matted and sticking out at odd angles, his red eyes were bloodshot, he looked exhausted.

"I didnt think it was weird," Logan muttered quietly. Remus looked up at his face.

"Logie!!!" The boy threw his arms around Logan, burying his head in the crook of Logan's neck.

"Remus! Help Logan down will you? His brother's here to pick him up!" Rhea's voice called from downstairs. Remus held Logan's hands as he stepped down from the bed, guiding him back down the stairs where Virgil stood waiting.

"Again, I'm so sorry for my wife's actions," Rhea said as Logan crossed over the threshold, Virgil pulling him into a tight hug.

"As long as he's not hurt and she stays away from my family from now on," Virgil said, there was a slight growl in his voice.

When Logan got home his head was swimming with more questions than there were plausible answers to.

"Lo, love, calm down- I'll explain after you've had a nap," said Virgil. Logan wanted to protest, but his room felt so warm and inviting, it didnt take much to convince him to fall fast asleep.

But as soon?as he woke up, he was filled with the urge for questions again.

"Loganloganloganlogan- c h i l l," Virgil held his hands out for Logan to stop.

"Ok, I guess it's time we explained a few things about the family," Virgil said, exchanging a worried glance with Remy. He let out a sigh, and started on the story.

It all started nearly one hundred generations back, Gabriel Auris, a half-dragon, fell in love with a sorceress. But the sorceress had a sister, one who was jealous and cruel, she disguised herself as her sister in order to trick Gabriel. When the sorceress had discovered the trick, she killed her sister, but unbeknownst to her, her sister had had a daughter and son with Gabriel. The sorceress had become so distraught and possessive of Gabriel that she turned him into a rose, so that he could not be hurt or taken by anything else. His niece and nephew grew up on their own, with no family to turn to. They were so afraid of who they'd become that they vowed never to fall in love with magic users or monsters again, they wanted to live as mortals. But this ideal had corrupted them, they set out to find monster and magic villages and cities, and they destroyed them. They were seen as tyrants, they raised their children and grandchildren on the ideas that monsters and magic was a dangerous thing, they convinced them to give up their power. It wouldnt be until several years later that the Auris bloodline would sense any change. Some believe that the family will never give up their bloodlust, others still believe that they can befriend monsters again, if they try.

Logan felt faint. "Wait, you never said anything about- monsters? Magic? But- those cant-" Logan thought back to the man in the library, the yellow eyes, sharp fangs, and Patton, the palish pink skin, and he'd had fangs to. Finally Logan's mind wondered to Remus, no human could have that many canines, and no wonder he'd been so content to look at the sky.

"I know it's a lot to take in Lo, I just. . . Hope you'll be able to understand," Virgil said, placing a hand on Logan's shoulder. Logan merely nodded, and went back to his room.

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

Tag list:

@nerosdayinhell

@thecolorfulolive

@meowthefluffy

@melodiread

@thefivecalls

@spooky-scary-virgil

@boobmaster69

@youtuberswithalex

@toadink2005

@itstimetoscreee82

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mercyandmagic · 5 years

Note

Referring to that ask about meng yao in different sects, i think i’d like him to be in jiang sect too! Tho it’d be curious as to how MY work as a spy if the war happens, because wens would kno his face. there r definitely certain moments i’d still love to happen like my and lxc first meeting, but in this au mengyao would be a more familiar face/name because of yunmeng. I wouldnt want him to be in gusu because of lqr hahaha... but its b interesting if papa lan knew about lxc’s feelings

Hmmmm. I bet MY would still rescue LXC because they would connect through his time in the Cloud Recesses. JFM would approve this mission, YZY would would be all “this is why our sect will die” but she agrees when MY says he will hide LXC in Yunping, not Lotus Pier, to avoid suspicion. As a result, however, he is not in the cave of slaughter, nor is he there when Lotus Pier burns.

This devastates him, and when he and LXC finally reunite with JC and JYL to find WWX missing, MY is further distraught. However, upon WWX’s return, MY would quickly figure out that something is amiss with his golden core and maybe mention it to JC, prompting a reconciliation between the two.

MY would help out Jiang Sect, but also recognize the need for a spy. When he first broaches the subject with JC, JC will shout absolutely not, but WWX might actually support the idea, even though he worries about his brother putting himself in more danger.

MY would discuss with WWX. They’d agree it’d be best if he just left without JC’s approval, and to further his disguise, MY first contacts the Wens and gives them slight aid in their fight against Jiang Sect. This involves killing an officer, just like in Nie Sect, which probably horrifies his brothers and sister. WWX might feel very guilty over this, too.

MY arrives in Nightless City as a defector from Jiang Sect, claiming he despised JC and Madame Yu and only stayed in Jiang Sect for JFM. WRH eventually trusts him as before.

MY sends letters to LXC, not his family, mostly to help Hejian and NMJ. He thinks WWX and JC can manage on their own, and is afraid they have not forgiven him.

Once NMJ is brought before WRH, MY remembers that this is the brother of NHS, whom he got along quite well with at the Cloud Recesses. He still kills WRH and saves NMJ.

NMJ is angry over his men’s deaths, but less suspicious of MY than in canon, especially when LXC arrives and tells him the full story.

MY is greeted by JC, WWX, and JYL. WWX punches him, JYL scolds WWX, and JC hugs him, telling him he understands why he did what he did. JYL says she is sorry he suffered alone. WWX says he wishes he hadn’t encouraged him. They make sure he knows he is still a welcome member of their family.

NMJ speaks more with his savior, and though still slightly suspicious, is more favorable towards him. NMJ and MY eventually become friends and sworn brothers at LXC’s urging.

JGS offers MY a place in Lanling Jin, and JC gives him his blessing. However, shortly after arriving, JC and WWX quickly realize that he is abused there. JYL intervenes by feigning interest in JZX so she can spend more time around Koi Tower to protect her brother, and XuanLi still fall in love.

When JGY realizes JGS has designs on the Tiger Seal, he and JYL and JZX make sure that never happens. WWX and JC protect WQ and WN’s sect.

Eventually the Lan bros confess for their Jiang bros. There’s a duel wedding between xiyao and WangXian, and now the Jiang quartet tease JC that he will have to find someone soon. (And JGY side-eyes the sweet and spirited QS for this).

#jin guangyao #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #xiyao #xuanli #wangxian #mdzs #mo dao zu shi

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kandikorne · 5 years

Text

Until The Light || {M.YG}

Genre: Smut, slight angst

Word Count: 5.6 K

Warnings: Praise kink, slight degradation, pet names, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), mentions of mafia Yoongi, and break ups.

He pouted as he stared closely at his reflection, his eyes holding to his neck where deep purple bruises laid on his flesh, not from sweet, plush lips, but from an angry boyfriend who had found him screwing around with his baby sister. Sometimes he really hated that girl, he hated how she could so easily manipulate him into coming to bed with her, to him begging for her touch.

He was so weak with that whore of a girl. He needed a lover not an occasional fuck, and Hoseok had made that pretty clear that morning after disposing of the male who dared to even touch Min Yoongi.

“Boss?” Called a deep voiced male who softly rapped his knuckles on the large doors of Yoongi’s bedroom.

“What’s needed Taehyung?” His voice raspy, his eyes hooded into a glare as he growled at his reflection, punching his reflection in the face. His inner turmoil showing in his reckless actions.

“Jungkook sent me with word as to where that slu-Da-eun is.”

“I don’t care where that whore ran to, what I do care for though is how long until she’s silenced?”

“I’ll inform him of your order sir. It shouldn’t take more than half an hour, at most.”

“Good, I’m heading out.”

The breakup stage sucked, your heart yearned and ached for him. Your bed was so empty without him. You missed the morning kisses, the slow hand that would play with your hair before falling asleep.

Hell you missed him, but fuck, it was over. He was just a chapter in your life, one that could be replaced but you couldn’t leave him in the past. You wanted him back. You hated drowning yourself with alcohol, you hated walking around your house with the ghost of him.

It’d been a week since you left your house, but today was the day you’d clean up your house and remove all signs of him. It’d hurt, you knew it would, but you couldn’t keep living with the ghost of him, no you had to let go like he had three months prior to breaking up with you.

You were so young and naive to believe in love, now you saw where love would get you, it was fake. You would pretend to be alright even when you weren’t you always tried to please him and seem like the perfect girlfriend, but look how far your love had taken you.

Carding a hand through your tangled hair your eyes ghosted over to the mirror, taking in your messy distraught self. you sweatshirt, a size too big, with a big chocolate pudding stain on the right breast. some dried substance besides it. You shook your head at your reflection and climbed out of your bed.

Strutting your way to the shower, turning it to the hottest it could be, you stripped yourself of your clothes as your remembered how he’d come up behind you, kissing the shell of your ear and whispering, all for me. God baby you’re really something, before his large hand would take your breast and began kneading the soft flesh.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Head!” You gritted as you continued to undress only for more memories to wash over you, him helping you undress, slowly tugging your panties down before pressing you against the tile wall, his lips capturing yours. It was all the past, it wasn’t good to keep looking back on. Swinging open the shower door you climbed in, eyes closed as you let the scolding hot water burn the memories away. The tears mixed with the water, disguising the pain. If you stopped to even think about it you could hear his deep voice reverberating off the glass doors, could almost feel his arms wrapping around your middle as his lips would ghost over your neck leaving the softest of kisses.

You wished, just even for a second to have him there with you. To hold you, to kiss you. You needed a way to forget him. So after your shower you moved to the closet, towel wrapped loosely across your frame as you pulled out a nice form fitting tan dress, which showed off your lovely curves.

You could only imagine Namjoon’s words if he were to see you right now, damn baby girl you look so good. Fuck it we’re staying in. As he’d grab your hips leading you back to the bed, undressing your body before marking your flesh with beautiful blooming bruises.

You had to stop thinking about him.

You dropped the towel and laid the dress on the bed as you went to dry your hair off that way you wouldn’t ruin the dress. You needed someone or something to make you forget about your ex, Namjoon, so why not have a few drinks, and dance with a stranger or two?

Yoongi walked around his club, his eyes fixated on the dance floor as he searched for any single or lonely women, except almost all that he found exceptionally interesting were with someone. He wondered if he’d ever have a wife or a serious relationship.

His eyes landed onto Hoseok one of his many men, Hoseok was especially good looking and great on the dance floor. He was sure that those hip thrusts would make anyone weak in the knees.

He sighed as he paraded around to the bar, his eyes landed on a young woman, her body leaning against the bar, her hair thrown into a tight bun but then he saw she was with a man, he laughed, his smile revealing his dimples.The male happened to be Kim Namjoon, a rival gang leader. He had some balls being in Yoongi’s club, but then again Namjoon had never harmed his enterprise or even messed with him, they had the same rivals, but him and Namjoon weren’t allies, far from it.

You had just walked into the hottest new club, and honestly it wasn’t even anything special, it was just like every other club you been to, except this time instead of having Namjoon at your side you were all alone, but now you could possibly find someone to replace your love for Namjoon, or at least help you forget him. Maybe even a few drinks would help ease your mind.

God it was so awkward being there all alone, your eyes kept following random individuals as you took in the night club scene. There were so many people dancing upon each other, the bar was full, the club was full of so many good looking males and females that you began questioning if you even fit in and what your sexuality truly was.

Your mind raced as you moved towards the bar, no one there was alone, everyone seemed to have a partner or a group of friends, you pressed your way through the crowd and stood patiently at the counter.

“Can I get a-” Shit, your mind blanked as a familiar voice spoke, you turned your head to see, him, he was only a few feet away. There he sat with a beautiful brunette, her hair in a tight bun, her body exposed for the most part through the thin material she called a dress.

You prayed he wouldn’t notice you, you just wanted him to stay in the past. You turned your head back to the bartender who offered a sinister grin, suddenly you didn’t want a cocktail, or anything that’d be made by this man. So instead you simply ordered a soda.

With your carbonated beverage you turned away from the bar and walked away only to run into a strong chest, a gasp escaped your lips as your drink fell to the floor, your eyes wide as two hands fell around your middle, holding you steady.

“I am so sorry,” you apologized as you looked at the mess on the floor, then at his face. The male said nothing as he studied your features carefully, he took in your bright wide eyes, the cute curve of your nose and plush lips. The two of you stood like that for another minute, your bodies still pressed against one another and fuck, Yoongi could feel something just by staring at you. It was as if he was back in middle school, crushing on the sweet, shy girl.

Slowly you stepped back and looked closely at him, you felt like you’ knew him. A moment passed and you were still admiring each other. “I’m Y/n.”

“Yoongi.” He responded his eyes not leaving yours. “Would you like me to buy you a drink?”

“It’s fine, I can buy myself one.”

“No, let me I caused you to spill it.” He couldn’t help himself, you were so stunning, he hadn’t meant to collide into you like that, but shit, he’d take what he could get. He placed his hand on your shoulder and lead you back to the bar.

“Jimin,” he ordered and the bartender turned to him immediately, his creepy smile gone but replaced with a childish one.

“Your usual?”He asked as Yoongi nodded, his eyes turned to you as you simply ordered a soda.

“Not a big fan of alcohol?” He asked in shock.

“I rather be sober when I’m getting to know someone,” you answered sheepishly as you looked at the counter.

“Jimin, cancel my drink, I’ll have a sparkling water.” Jimin nodded and gave you both your drinks. Yoongi and you sat at the counter, neither of you saying anything for a second before he decided to break the ice.

“What brings you here alone?” He hoped you were alone and didn’t have a boyfriend, because that would kill the mood.

“My boyfriend cheated on me for three months and just a week ago I found out and kicked him out of our apartment. Tonight’s the first night I’ve been out since, I just wanna forget about him and his touch. You know?” You asked and god you hoped you hadn’t just made things completely awkward with this man.

“Fuck him,” replied Yoongi who shook his head causing his black locks to fall into his eyes and holy shit was that a look.

“I could care less about him right now, I seriously hope he gets an STD.” You laughed as you took a long sip of your drink, eyes locking with Yoongi’s, he couldn’t help but smile.

“What about you?” You asked ad he looked taken back.

“What about me?”

“Why are you here all alone, or are you here with someone?”

“I’m alone too, except I don’t have a shitty ex to dis like you.”

“Must be nice.”

“Not really, the single life sucks, as do the whores that come with it.”

“Oh should I leave you be so I don’t get killed by your whores?” you joked as his eyes widened.

“Hell no, and if any whore comes at you I’d kill them before they could even touch you.” He gently punched your exposed shoulder earning a laugh from you.

“Spicy,” you teased and he laughed before asking, what? The two of you laughed about nothing, his hand fell to your knee, your eyes widened but you threw it off.

“What do you do as a living?” He asked after your laughter had settled, “I’m a medical student, I’m studying to be an OB-GYN. How about you?”

“I don’t think you wanna know.”

“No I do, tell me please,” you whined like a kid as you leaned forward from your stool grabbing his hands. He laughed at how cute you were.

“I doubt you’d think it’s cool.”

“I dunno you’d be surprised.”

“What was your ex?” He asked pouring salt into the wounds, you pulled away as you looked at your hands, you remembered the lie he told you when the two of you had first met, well baby girl if you must know I’m a bouncer. When in reality he lied to you almost every single day, and it definitely wasn’t for your own good.

“It doesn’t matter,” you brushed off his question and finished your soda, realizing that now without that beverage you wouldn’t have anything to cover the awkward pauses.

“Well I own a small business that’s growing dramatically, and we’re currently sitting in it.” His club which was gaining noticeable recognition, which wasn’t exactly a lie, and his mafia was growing quite large in size and power. Pretty soon he’d be in control of the capital.

“That’s really cool.” You weren’t sure what else to say but Yoongi smiled at you happily nevertheless.

“Wanna dance?” He looked at you with a raised brow, visibly taken back by your question. “Can you dance?”

“Not really but I bet it’ll be fun,” you beamed as you stood up and took hold of his large hands pulling him towards you, a bright smile on your face as he chuckled and shook his head slowly.

“You’re really something you know that.”

“The only thing that should be moving is your hips.” The teasing words made him smirk as he dragged you closer to him and started to rub his hips against your “Ahh like this?” He asked as he took in your blushing face.

“Almost but,” You pulled away from him and made sure to stand a bit farther from the counter as you turned and grinded your ass against his crotch, quickly his hands fell to your hips as he pulled you closer, a laugh escaped your lips earning a chuckle from him as he spun you around to face him.

“I can’t believe your boyfriend fucking left you,” he groaned as he stared into your eyes, he leaned in and your heart fluttered only for Yoongi to be pushed away from you.

“Maybe keep your hands off of what belongs to me D- Boy.” Yoongi brushed himself off as he glared up at Namjoon who was now standing in front of you.

“Fuck off Namjoon.” It was clear that he was intoxicated, the slurring of his words and staggered stance made that pretty obvious.

“Come on baby les go home.” He grabbed your arm only for you to swat if off. “You and I are broken up because your dumb-ass decided to cheat on me.”

“But baby girl I love you, why would I-?” He paused as he tried to think, he looked at you innocently. You pulled away from him as Yoongi pushed Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I think it’d be in your best interest to go buddy.”

“Not without my Y/n-bear.”

“She’s not yours to claim, or even have, just go home before things get ugly.” Warned Yoongi, his eyes in a deadly glare, his ton cold, his face threatening.

“Should I extract him boss?” Asked a male from behind you, his voice was so deep that it sent shivers down your spine, you turned to look at the rather tall man, he had a small freckle on his nose, his eyes cold, one hand was behind his back as Yoongi nodded.

“Show him the door.” Namjoon began to yell as the younger male reached for him, his shirt rode up his back revealing a gun, a gasp escaped your lips as you were pulled away by Yoongi, who looked thoroughly pissed.

“Don’t kill him!” You begged, you held your feet to the ground as your eyes watered, sure you were heartbroken and hating every ounce of Namjoon, but you did not want him to die.

“He won’t be killed, Taehyung is part of my security force. Do you actually care for that cheating bastard?” Yoongi sounded incredulous, he wanted to make you forget all about that prick and only think of him. He wanted you to crave his touch more than you had for Namjoon’s, he wanted to see you within his future. He wasn’t exactly sure how’d you fit into his future, maybe girlfriend, occasional fuck?

Hell whatever you were to him later in life wouldn’t matter. He wanted to live in the moment and he was sure with a few drinks and some dancing he’d get you back to his manor and out of that skin toned dress.

An hour or so passed, your feet ached from being on them for so long, Yoongi still held you by the waist as you continued to dance with him, you were feeling a bit sluggish from all that dancing, all you drank was soda and a water.

“Tired princess?” He kissed the back of your ear earning a nod, “very Yoongi.”

“Wanna sit and rest?”

“I wanna sleep,” you managed to groan as the two of you stopped and began walking off the dance floor.

“Wanna head back to my place and get a drink?”

“How do I know you don’t plan on kidnapping me and selling my organs through the black market?”

“That’s a fair point, but, how do I know you won’t kill and rob me when we leave?”

“Touche Yoongi... But, I’m far too incapable of murder, I can’t harm anything except flies.” His laughter was contagious, he had to pause and lean against a wall before he caught his breath, you weren’t exactly sure as to why he was laughing but man was it a sound and a sight to see.

His face was like a child's, round and his smile was all gums. He was adorable, except you couldn't place your finger on it but you knew he was bad in some manor. He had a fucking security officer, threatened Namjoon to leave who was also a notorious mafia boss.

The two of you left the club and Yoongi had his driver, his very own personal fucking driver take you back to his home. Within the short drive you and Yoongi managed to learn even more about one another. He learned you hated snails, and that he would kill anybody if they stole his lamb skewers, you doubted he was joking.

The SUV pulled to a stop in front of a large gate, then drove through another and another, three gates in total. Was this his house or a prison?

The car pulled to a stop before the front door right in front of a fountain. “You live here?” You asked eyes wide as he laughed and nodded.

“Well obviously,” he rolled his eyes before climbing out the vehicle and opening your door as he lead you to the mansion, you couldn’t believe he actually lived here. After walking up some stairs you reached what you were presuming was his bedroom.

“I thought we were gonna get drinks?” You asked as he showed you to his room. He walked over to the closet and walked inside, you followed hesitantly and your jaw practically hit the floor.

Talk about a walk in closet. Inside was a mini fridge and a small counter before going further to where all his clothes were stashed and organized neatly.

“What would you like?”

“Whatever you got in that fridge.”

He looked at you for a moment and pulled out some whiskey, “I doubt you could handle this.”

“I doubt you could handle a drunken me.”

“Oh baby doll, you’d be surprised, I’m pretty good at everything,” he shot you a wink before licking his lips and grabbing some glasses.

A few drinks later you were only slightly intoxicated, your sense were dulled a bit but fuck, Yoongi looked so good sitting across from you on his King sized mattress. Together the two of you had roughly six drinks, him drinking more and laughing at your bitter face after every sip.

“Wanna know what I’m thinking?” You giggled as you slowly finished our drink off earning a laugh.

“Does it involve me and you?” He asked his brows wiggling suggestively as he stared you down, his eyes on your chest for a bit as his tongue ran across his top lip.

“Well not before you mentioned that,” you whispered crawling over to him as you sat on on his lap, legs behind his back. “You don’t know what you’ve started,” he breathed before roughly capturing your lips in a tortuously slow but hard kiss.

A groan escaping from your lips, fingers entangling themselves in his hair, as his cold hands trailed up your thighs and underneath your dress, pushing it higher to where he’d have access to your wet folds, clothed by the sheer thin, lace fabricate.

“You wear these just for me princess?” He muffled against your lips, quickly nipping your bottom lip, your hands leaving his soft black locks, trailing down from his clothed shoulders to his chest to the buckle of his belt, quickly you unfastened his pants and before you could unzip them his hands caught yours, he pushed you back onto the bed. He hovered over you, his eyes hooded as he stared at you completely lost in lust.

“You look so good right now,” he breathed as he started placing kisses along your collarbones, his hands left your hands as he moved one of his hands to your covered slit, slowly tracing over your wet lips, his eyes holding yours as you released a breathy moan.

“So wet already, fuck, you’re such a good kitten. My dicks going o feel so good inside of you won’t it kitten?” You nodded your head eagerly as he smirked, he pushed the fabric to the side and slipped one finger inside of you.

“Yoongi, please don’t tease me like this,” you pleaded and just as quickly as he slipped his finger into you he withdrew it just as quick. A desperate mewl escaped your lips, but your eyes widened as he took that single digit soaked in your wetness into his mouth, his eyes holding yours as he sucked it clean.

You couldn’t say anything to the man hovering above you, fuck you couldn’t even find a tangible thought, instead you sat up and began to unzip the back of the dress until it got caught in the midst of going down. A chuckle fell from his lips as he reached behind your back and skillfully maneuvered the zipper down even after it got stuck.

“So sexy,” he breathed against the base or your neck trailing his kisses up to your ears, definitely leaving blooming bruises along the way to remind you of your lustful actions. Your hands grabbed on his suit shirt, quickly unbuttoning the material and pushing it off his shoulders, you pushed yourself onto your knees, you hands roaming his muscular physique in appreciation, before lowering to his abdomen and to his crotch.

The black pants that he wore was still unfastened, his zipper down, his hard on obvious against the palm of your hand. So many dirty thoughts raced through your mind from you taking hold of his cock and pumping him to you gagging on his girth.

Your fingers found a way into is boxers, his kisses halting as he looked at you through his lashes, waiting for you to make your move. Slowly you pulled his member out, he wasn’t even fully erect but looking at his girth you wished you knew Yoongi a long while before your breakup, because after tonight you knew you’d be forgetting all about Namjoon and his touch, your only focus would be the man before you, whose lips were tantalizing, his touch unearthly. You wanted him to take you right then in that moment, but of course he was gonna be a tease.

“You like what you see baby?” He asked a smile on his face, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his cock, all you could do was nod your head.

“Eyes up here kitten,” he grabbed your chin gently having you look into his warm eyes, your lips were slightly parted causing erotic thoughts to swarm his mind. He shifted himself as he pulled off his jeans and boxers, throwing them somewhere behind him before reconnecting your lips to his. Your tongue ran across his lower lip before drawing his lower lip between you teeth before sucking on the soft flesh, swelling his bottom lip.

His hand tangled into your hair, tugging lightly as his other hand ran down to your wet heat, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit earning a gasp from your lips, his lower lip swollen from your kiss.

“Such a needy kitten aren’t you?” His fingers stopped as another whine escaped your lips. “No need to get upset,” he muttered as he pulled you hips up and to his chest.

“Yoongi what are you doing?” You asked eyes wide as he dipped his head down to your core and ran his tongue over your slit and to your clit to which he ran rapid circles on with his soft, warm muscle.

Your body arching upwards, and you hips shaking in his grip, he wrapped an arm snugly around your abdomen, holding you in place as he slapped your clit with his palm.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, “you understand me slut?” A shaky gasp left you as you nodded your head quickly waiting for him to continue, just his dominance on it’s own made you wet.

“Yes, daddy.” You whispered, the words catching him completely off guard. He wasn’t used to anyone calling him that, he found that kink a bit too much for him, especially if he were to have children, but hearing the words fall from your mouth and seeing your eager expression and blown out pupils, he figured why not entertain you? But he also knew that’s possibly what you called your ex in bed.

He shrugged it off nevertheless and brought his lips down on your clit and began sucking while he brought to fingers to your slick opening, slowly pumping two of his long fingers in and out. the stretch was blissful and your mouth opened as you panted in pleasure. A knot began to form in your stomach and you knew you wouldn't last long if he continued with his tongue.

He sucked harshly on your swollen nub, speeding up his fingers as he did so, his eyes would flick to yours every so often, watching your fucked out expressions.

You walls clenched and unclenched around him as your moans grew louder with each thrust. “I-I,” you panted, the words not coming out as Yoongi withdrew his fingers and lips.

“Not yet kitten,” you wanted to cry out from the loss of contact and the knot that formed in your stomach loosened in emptiness, you were so close to your orgasm only to be denied. Your hips bucked forwards out of desperation.

“Naughty little slut,” he growled pushing your hips down before hovering over your body. “Such a dirty girl, I bet you want my cock don’t you?” You nodded your head and he glared.

“Vocalize it like a good little slut. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you, come on kitten let’s hear you.” Your core throbbed just by his words, it definitely wouldn’t be hard to beg him, especially since you did want him.

“Daddy, please just fuck me, I’ve been a good kitten.”

“That’s debatable my little whore, you’ve been a naughty little slut. Why don’t you make it up to me kitten?”

“How would I do that?” You asked innocently, batting your lashes a him.

“You know how,” he whispered, grabbing your chin, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips, his dark eyes full of lust and dominance.

“Okay,” you whispered pushing him out from being above you, he now laid on his back and you pondered how you were going to do this. One of his hands reached out and grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him.

‘Sit on my stomach,” he commanded and you did just that, you leaned forwards grabbing Yoongi’s cock doing so gave him the perfect view of your dripping cunt and ass. Slowly you began to pump him, every so often your thumb would run over his slit gathering his precum and smearing it down his shaft.

A sharp slap rang across your left ass cheek, “stop being a tease you little whore.” He groaned out, spitting on his tip and smearing that you dipped your head and took his tip in your mouth, slowly running your tongue over his tip before sucking. Moving your head further down, taking even more of him.

His hands grabbed your ass, squeezing and massaging the soft skin, your jaw slackened as you bobbed your head up and down his length each time trying to take a bit more.

“Good little slut,” he breathed and to your surprise he slipped two fingers into your soaked cunt an curling them earning a gasp from you as his cock went further in your mouth and to the back of your throat.

“That’s it baby, just like that, throat me.” You moaned around his length, sending vibrations through him, his hips bucked upwards, fucking your throat, as you made sure not to gag on him. “Your throat is so good kitten, I bet your ex loved playing with you, didn’t he?”“

You didn’t respond as you bobbed your head and swirled your tongue around him, he pulled his fingers out of you, much to your dismay, his hands moved to your hips, pulling your ass back, your balance being tested with his movement.

“Come on kitten answer the question,” you moaned around him, pulling your lips away from his cock, his tip was bright pink letting you know you’ve done a good job and the slight twitch.

“No, he was always too busy to even do anything with me.” You muttered as Yoongi pushed you off him and crawled over you once more, his eyes taking in your swollen lips, he couldn’t resist his temptation to kiss you, so he did just that The kiss was rough, his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth, you sucked on his tongue tasting yourself, a grunt escaped his mouth and fell into yours.

He couldn’t wait any longer, he lined himself up with your entrance, with one quick thrust he was engorged by your tight, wet, pussy. He pulled his lips away from yours and moaned at the feeling.

“He was definitely missing out on something, I bet if his ass could see us now he’d be whimpering like a starved puppy just begging to be in you, to have you.” A moan left your lips as he rocked himself in and out slowly, his eyes held yours in satisfaction. He was enjoying the power he had over you.

“You like this kitten?” His lips brushing against your forehead as you nodded your head, hands landing onto his shoulders, as your legs wrapped around him giving him a better angle.

His thrusts quickened, his hips hitting yours as he moved deeper into you, his face was buried in your neck leaving a dark purple bruise in it’s place. He was so engorged by your tight wetness, he could stay there for hours if he could. His balls slapping against your ass the only sounds to be heard was the slapping of skin, heavy breathing and your moans.

His lips left your neck as his hips slowed a bit causing you to move your hips against his, earning a chuckle out of him. “You like this kitten?”

“Very much,” you answered honestly through a moan, his head falling back as he started to move his hips quicker, but made sure to pull out slow, to impale quick once again. Your walls were already pulsating around his length, your eyes began to close, looking at him through your lashes, your lips parted. He looked so good, his skin practically glowing with sweat.

He brought his hand down to your core, his thumb rubbing quick, rough circles to your clit causing you to moan out and arch your back up, bringing your breasts to his chest.

“Fucking hell kitten, so vocal and just for me.” He kissed the tops of your chests and continued to pound into you, his movements were getting sloppy but it felt so good. You were close and he knew it, his thrusts got harder as his pace slowed a bit, you whined from the lack of speed, but even at the slower pace he felt amazing.

He hit all the right spots, and he fit so well in your pussy, it was as if his dick was made especially just for you. Another moan fell from off your lips, his thumb moving erratically, you started to see splashes of colors, something that sounded like his name ripped from your throat as your high hit. He helped you ride it out, you walls enveloping him tightly making it hard for him to move, soon enough his cock twitched as he painted your walls with his sticky, hot fluids. Your walls continued to pulse around him, milking him for all that he’s worth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled out, he fell right besides you, his body glistening in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. his arm fell around your waist drawing you closer to him. Your fingers ran over his ribs as your head laid against his chest.

“Wanna go get dinner with me later today?”

A laugh escaped your lips and he looked confused, “that sounds nice.”

“What was so funny?”

“Just the fact that we fucked and afterwards you asked me on a date, I’m pretty sure it goes date then you can get into my pants.” He smiled a cute gummy smile as he blushed, “so does that mean I can fuck you after our date?”

“Maybe,” you whispered as you snuggled closer to him. His lips brushed your forehead as you both fell asleep. He definitely replaced Namjoon from your head.

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vfdbaudelairefile13 · 4 years

Text

Chapter Thirty-Three:

The One With The Diabolical Detective Dupin

Violet and Klaus both felt as though the Elders had just kicked the air right out of them. They looked at one another, each wiping the happy tears from their eyes.

“What did you say?” Violet asked, her voice was faint from her lack of breath.

“We said ‘Olaf’s been captured’,” The elder said again as the three Elders rolled their eyes towards the children.

Klaus’ body felt numb. “W-wh-what did you say?” His voice was as soft and weak as Violet’s

“Pay attention orphans! We said ‘Count Olaf has been captured’,” the male Elder barked. The three Elders walked towards the town hall leaving the two half-siblings breathless, confused, and strangely full of hope.

Klaus looked to his older sister. He was shaking but for once it wasn’t in fear. It was in delight, happiness, and pure excitement. He could barely stand. “My nightmare is over…” he squealed. “I can sleep peacefully. He’s captured. He’s done for!”

Violet smiled as Klaus began to jump for joy. Hector peaked his head into the saloon. “Come quickly, children,” he said smiling at both children. “I just heard the news.”

Violet grabbed Klaus’ arm and the two siblings followed Hector towards town hall. “Can you believe it?” he asked as they walked. “Count Olaf, the notorious villain I first head of yesterday, capture at last in that very saloon!”

“Do you think it could be true? “ Violet asked a bit skeptical but doing her best to keep her optimism.

Klaus’ eyes were glazed over with a brightness that Violet had only scene briefly back when she witnessed her little brother awkwardly flirting with Duncan Quagmire or when he had scooped his baby sister in his arms to tickle her when she teased him before Olaf showed up at Prufrock. Or when he info dumped for his entertainment and not because his life depended on it and even then Violet could tell the prospect of Olaf being captured was the thing Klaus desired the most. The one thing he desperately needed the most. “I hope so!” Klaus replied in a happy tone.

Violet frowned when she realized that Klaus had fallen victim to jumping to conclusions. Which is just an expression, rather than an activity. Although in the case of Klaus Baudelaire in this instant in his life, both would be accurate. Unfortunately for Klaus, jumping to conclusions was as dangerous as jumping off a cliff, jumping in front of a moving train, and jumping for joy. Clearly, the solution to anything involving jumping is to not jump at all. This was what Violet Snicket was trying her hardest to do. But as Violet and Hector walked normally to town hall and Klaus acted as though he was a four-year-old in a candy store with an outrageous amount of money and no restrictions, Violet couldn’t help but catch a bit of her brother’s surprising, rare, and uncharacteristic optimism. I will admit, it is hard not to jump at all when you are jumping to conclusions, and it is impossible to make sure that you are juping to a safe place because all ‘jumping to conclusions’ means is that you are believing something is true even though you don’t actually know whether it is or not. When Violet and Klaus heard that Count Olaf had been captured, Klaus found himself to excited and relieved to rely on his history with Olaf and logic.

“The Council of Elders called a special meeting, which always makes me jumpy,” Hector explained as he took a seat as far in the back as he could. Violet and Klaus made their way closer to the front. Sitting in the seats perpendicular to the main crowd of townspeople.

“Settle down, everyone,” One Elder yelled, smacking their gavel down.

“We’ll answer all your questions,”

Klaus’ hand shot up so fast. “ Can it be true?’ He asked his voice entirely happy but Violet could hear the desperation in his voice. “ Is my long nightmare of dealing with Count Olaf over?”

“It’s true,” The Elder explained. “A man arrived in town sometime yesterday, with one eyebrow and a tattoo of an eye on his ankle,”

“It must be Olaf,” Klaus replied, jumping to conclusions.

Violet frowned. She hoped it was Olaf but...she knew his tattoo wasn’t unique. She also knew that it was not a tattoo of an eye but the initials of the piece of shit organization that has haunted the Snickets for too long.

“Yes. Olaf was hiding in the village in a disguise. Fortunately, a handsome stranger who claimed to be an investigative agent arrived yesterday and captured him. We’ve got him handcuffed outside.”

“Olaf. Not the handsome stranger,” one Elder explained.

“He certainly is a tall drink of water,” another Elder commented.

“The handsome stranger, not Olaf.” the first Elder specified.

“His female associate is quite capable, too,” the third Elder noted.

“Did he give up the location of my sister and friends?” Klaus asked desperately.

“Our…” Violet muttered, glancing at the ground.

“Not yet,” an Elder replied.

Klaus shifted in his seat. “Will you tell the detective that I’m grateful?”

“You can tell him yourself,” the third Elder replied. “He’s right back there,” the old man pointed a finger to the back doors.

Violet and Klaus turned their attention to the back doors of Town Hall. Klaus ready to thank the detective who caught Olaf. Violet just wanting to see who finished the job that her father hadn’t. But as the door was kicked open, Klaus and Violet did not only feel the color in their skin fade away. They felt their eyes dull over losing any bit of brightness that it may have gained when they first heard the news. They felt their hearts crash and shatter deep inside themselves. Their stomachs flipped and their heads twirled. Their lungs lost all oxygen that had been stored. Both children felt the heavy, crushing devastation that sent their faces falling. It was as if their world had shattered once again. Any ounce of temporary happiness had faded from both children so quickly. They felt nauseous and distraught. The two children felt lifeless as their bodies paralyzed over instantly. Either because of their anger, like in Violet's case or in Klaus' case, fear.

“Greetings, all you cool cats!” called the voice of the man who kicked the doors open. This man needed a dramatic entrance because the Snicket brothers described him accurately. He was a drama queen. A drama queen whose voice, I’m sorry to say, that the two orphans recognized in an instant. It was the voice that Violet despised the most and the voice that haunted Klaus even in his less terrifying dreams. The voice was wheezy and scratchy, and it had a sinister smile behind it as if the person talking were telling a joke. But it was not a voice that made the children want to laugh at the punchline. It was one that made them want to either retreat and cry. It was one that made them want to attack and kill. It was a voice that the children recognized from all of the places they had been since the death of their parents. It was the voice of Count Olaf.

The children gazed silently as they turned to see Olaf wearing another one of his absurd disguises. He flashed a smirk at the children. Even behind his enormous sunglasses, they could feel his shiny eyes staring at them. He was also wearing a purple blazer that was so vividly colored that it made the children squint a bit, and a pair of blue pants jeans equipped with, what the kids assumed to be, a plastic police badge that proudly hung at the front of his pants near the belt buckle. Under his purple jacket, the man had a dirty yellow shirt on with half of the buttons unbuttoned showing off his disgusting chest, which added an extra layer of unpleasant to the children. He wore a shiny medallion around his neck that glinted like a mirror in certain lighting. To complete his look, he wore a brown fedora-like hat that helped his enormous sunglasses hide his unibrow. On his feet were a pair of bright green plastic shoes with yellow plastic lightning bolts sticking out of them covering his ankle and hiding his tattoo.

The man walked closer to where the two children were sitting. Violet grabbed Klaus’ arm as Olaf approached. She glared at him as she could feel Klaus shaking under her grip. “I am the famous and,” he cut himself off to scat a bit. “cool...Detective Dupin.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “More like Detective Dumbass,” she muttered to Klaus hoping that she can keep him from having a full-blown panic attack. She was getting over her paralyzation quicker than Klaus was. Klaus stared at the man in silence. No expression written on his face.

“I was on the scene if you know what I mean, and I saw Count Olaf, and nothing rhymes,” Olaf scat in his disguised voice trying to sound as ’80s as possible. “And I grabbed this guy, and made him fly into jail and also,” he scat. Violet could tell he was trying his best to continue this charade but he wasn’t as knowledgeable with words as her father or brother were.”A rhyme is a hard thing to do,” he said snapping his finger. Moving around the crowd, stopping short of the two orphans. Violet gripped Klaus’ arm harder as Olaf turned from the orphans to the crowd. To Violet’s dismay, the town of VFD began to clap and applaud Olaf’s Detective Dupin charade.

“You can’t be serious,” she cried.

“Yeah! All right!” Dupin cheered. Taking a few bows.

“I found that utterly convincing,” one Elder commented as he clapped for Olaf.

Klaus felt a bolt of lightning shock through his inner being. He jumped up from his seat so fast that he yanked Violet’s arm with him causing her to yelp and let go. “ That’s Count Olaf!” he shouted, pointing and glaring at the disguised man.

Olaf sighed, quickly rolled his eyes, which the crowd couldn’t see behind his sunglasses. He slowly turned around to face Klaus. He shot Klaus a wicked smirk laced with cruel intentions. “I think your prescription is fuzzy, my little four-eyed kitten,” Dupin replied. His voice carrying a secret layer of venom as his eyes focused on Klaus.

Klaus was struck paralyzed again as he quickly sat back down in his seat.

“You orphans are confused!” The first Elder yelled.

“That is the man who caught Count Olaf,” the second Elder explained.

“The man you wanted to thank,’ the third Elder reminded.

Olaf’s smirk turned wider as he stepped closer to Violet and Klaus. He walked up to their seats, Klaus leaning as far back in his seat as he could. Violet put her arm in front of Klaus’ chest, her only way to protect him in this position. “ Anything for you two,” the man hissed.

Violet’s glared intensified as she shook in her seat in pure anger. “ You’re Olaf,” she hissed.

He smirked at Violet, leaning as close as he could to make sure only she and Klaus could hear him. “No, silly little...pretty orphan,” he hissed. He glanced around making sure the townspeople sitting around the two orphans could not hear him. He waited a second, no one seemed to pay him any attention. “I am Detective Dupin. Officer Luciana has Count Olaf right outside.” He pointed to the door that he had just entered from.

“That’s not possible seeing that I am looking right at Olaf,” Violet hissed back.

“Pay attention, Violet dear, you are going to love this part,” he hissed back grinning as he stood back up to face the crowd.

The Elders slammed down their gavels on their podium. “Officer Luciana! Bring in the prisoner!” one yelled.

Detective Dupin began to applaud wildly. Violet and Klaus glanced towards the doors both confused as to why Violet was going to ‘love’ this part. “Yeah, yeah, baby! Let’s get this hootenanny a-hootin’!”

Violet’s heart sank in her chest as she watched the disguised Esme push the man from the Auction into the Town Hall. The same man from her father’s picture. The man looked a strange mixture of stone-cold and frightened. He was dressed in a discolored shirt that anyone could see used to be white but it hadn’t been washed in a while. Around his wrists was a pair of handcuffs. Both children could see that this man’s hair was made to look like Olaf. But no matter what Esme and Olaf did to try to make this man appear to be Count Olaf, it failed to fool the two orphans. He wasn’t quite as thin as Olaf, he wasn’t as tall as Olaf, he didn’t have dirt under his fingernails like Olaf and most of all, he didn’t have the signature nasty, greedy, and evil look that Detective Dupin was wearing now as he watched Violet’s reaction. “No,” she whimpered. Klaus turned to her confused. Violet, like Klaus, did not know this man personally. But as she looked at him, she could see similarities between him and her father. She could tell immediately that he was a Snicket.

“Move it, prisoner!” Officer Luciana yelled as she pushed Jacques. Jacques growled as Esme gave him a hard shove.

“I prefer to go by ‘volunteer’,” he replied bitterly.

Esme smiled. “And I prefer to go by Donatella Violetta Cappuccino Milano. But you can call me Officer Luciana.” She and Jacques reached the platform where Olaf stood. She grabbed Jacques by his shoulders and turned him around to face the crowd.

Violet stood up desperately. “ That is not Count Olaf!”

“No talking on the platform,” the Elders yelled at her.

“I’m not on the fucking platform!” she yelled back.

Jacques stared at her in shock. His stone-cold demeanor melting as he could see his brother in her eyes.

“Hector, control the orphans!” one Elder yelled.

Hector turned to Violet and Klaus, opened his mouth to speak and then proceeded to faint.

“As a citizen of this village, we should be able to speak!” Violet protested as Klaus stood up alongside her.

“That man is not Count Olaf!” Klaus yelled pointing at Jacques.

“That dumb fucker is!” Violet yelled pointing at Detective Dupin.

Both Dupin and Luciana glanced towards Violet utterly confused.

“Why should we believe you two children over our chief of police?” an Elder asked.

“Because none of you have met Count Olaf!” Klaus argued.

“That’s true,” Mrs. Morrow admitted. “I’ve never met Count Olaf,”

“Well, I’ve read about him in the newspaper...does that count?” Mr. Lesko asked.

Jacques took this time to lean in close to the two half-siblings. “Violet...it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said offering her a kind smile. “I will say I had hoped we would’ve met in...better...circumstances.” Violet glanced at him worriedly. “Don’t worry. I’ve been in worse scrapes than this,” he whispered. Jacques glanced at Klaus. “Ah, this must be Klaus Baudelaire. You look so much like your parents. Normally, I’d shake your hand and ask ‘How do you do?’ but as you can see,” Jacques offered Klaus a smile as he lifted his wrists. “It’d be a bit tricky.”

“Silence!” An Elder yelled, slamming their gavel down. Jacques rolled his eyes. “These children do have a point. None of us have ever met Olaf.”

Klaus stood up. “But my sister and I have!” he cried. “We’ve had the displeasure of dealing with him on countless occasions.”

“Maybe you have,” Dupin replied bitterly. “But the girl not so much,”

Klaus looked around to see if anyone found that reply a bit odd. The only person who seemed to be responding to Olaf’s idiotic rebuttal was Esme who turned to him incredulously. “You see, Count Olaf has one big eyebrow,”

Officer Luciana smirked towards Klaus. “As you can see, this man also has one eyebrow.” She pointed to Jacques.

“You can clearly tell that that’s been glued on!” he argued.

“Why would Count Olaf glue an eyebrow to his forehead?” she asked feigning confusion.

“ He didn’t! You did!” Klaus yelled.

Violet, on the other hand, was at a loss for words. She just stared at her uncle. Tryin her best not to cry. He looked so much like her father, it was unreal to her. She had never met anyone from her family before so seeing him face to face rather than in some photograph was so surreal for her. Jacques noticed tears forming in her eyes. “Hey, hey. None of that,” he whispered to her. “I’m going to get out of this...okay…”

She looked up at him. Doubt filled her eyes as she slowly nodded. “But if you don’t…”

He offered her a friendly smile. “Don’t think like that...your father had a nasty habit of always thinking so negatively.”

All she could do was nod her head again.

“Fine,” Klaus sighed. “Forget the fucking unibrow. Count Olaf has a tattoo of an eye on his left ankle.”

Klaus smirked thinking he had played his trump card. He was so sure that Jacques wouldn’t have a tattoo on his left ankle. Violet’s eyes widened when she realized that Jacques’ face turned sour. “No,” she whimpered. “Please...tell me you don’t have a tattoo…” she begged Jacques. He glanced down at the ground. “They branded you,” she whispered so low that only Jacques could hear her. “That tattoo is going to seal your doom,” she warned as she glanced up towards Olaf and Esme who were both proudly smirking.

“This man,” Klaus said pointing at Jacques. “Won’t have that heinous tattoo. Watch. And when he doesn’t...I think we should have Detective Dumbass over here take off his left shoe and display his ankle.”

Olaf didn’t glare at Klaus like he had all those other times Klaus or Sunny had nearly ruined his disguise. This worried Klaus. What worried the young orphan boy, even more, was the face that Olaf was making. He was once again smirking at Klaus. He turned to face Jacques who wasn’t glaring at the young boy but glaring towards the two villains. But Klaus didn’t understand why. Surely this man won’t have the tattoo.

Esme walked up to Jacques. “Sir, in the name of the law, would you expose your left ankle to the crowd.”

Jacques glared daggers at Esme. “And if I refuse?” he asked under his breath.

“Now...that’s just an admission of guilt all on its own,” Esme replied back.

Jacques sighed as he gripped onto his left pant leg, pulling his pant leg up. Klaus’ eyes widened as Violet’s heart sank further when they both glanced down at Jacques’ tattooed ankle. The crowd gasped. The Elders gasped. Even Esme gasped for dramatic effect. “But...but...but…” Klaus stuttered. His mind reeling. He felt woozy. “He...he...he’s not...he…” Klaus' eyes rolled back. He felt like he was about to faint. He pointed a finger at Jacques. “That’s...that’s not the man...that’s not my sister’s kidnapper….” he cried. His voice weak. The only two people who seemed worried about Klaus were Violet and Jacques. Detective Dupin walked closer to the boy putting a hand on his shoulder. Klaus flinched from the man’s touch causing Jacques to step in between Olaf and Klaus.

“Thank you for helping Officer Luciana and I identify our prisoner,” Dupin replied. “Maybe you could be a detective when you grow up,” he joked.

Esme walked closer to the three. “ If he grows up,” she whispered. Jacques glared at the two villains.

“Back off the kid,” he whispered harshly.

Esme surprisingly did just that. She turned to the crowd. “As you can see, thanks to the orphan boy’s help. This man has the single eyebrow and the tattoo of an ‘eye’ on his left ankle. Therefore this man is inarguably Count Olaf,”

Olaf took this as his cue to address the crowd as well. “Now that count Olaf is verifiability verified, let’s starting groovin’ on how we’re gonna punish this bad cat. Who’s got suggestions?” he asked the crowd.

The crowd all began to talk over each other. Klaus began to shake so badly. Jacques looked at him confused. “Hey, you okay?” he whispered as Klaus grabbed his shoulder for support. He didn’t answer the man, he merely shook his head. “Come on, sit down next to your sister,” he instructed as he helped Klaus back to his seat the best he could while being handcuffed. Once Klaus sat down, Jacques looked back to Violet. “I am so glad that you found your siblings. Jacquelyn did a great job making sure that happened.”

“Who are you?” Klaus asked still shaking.

“My name is Jacques Snicket,” Jacques replied. “My associate and I tracked the Quagmires and Sunny here...just like you did. We were trying our best to rescue them. As you can see, we’ve suffered some setbacks.”

“I’ll say,” Violet muttered. “What have they done to you? What are they going to do to you?”

Jacques shrugged his shoulders. “I told you...I will get out of this. Don’t you worry your little head. It’s very hard to kill a Snicket.”

Violet frowned at this. She shook her head. “Not really. All you need is a little fire,” she muttered.

Jacques felt his heart sink into his chest. He sighed. He contemplated telling Violet his theory about Lemony. He didn’t want to believe that his baby brother was dead. He truly didn’t. But he didn’t want to give his niece any false hope in the slight chance that all of his theories were dead wrong. He also didn’t want her to think that her father would have abandoned her. Outside of himself, who she’s just met today and her siblings, whom she barely knew. Lemony was the only true family that she knew. He couldn’t torture her like that. So he kept his mouth shut. Not wanting to add any additional unnecessary pain to his niece.

Klaus looked desperately at the man. “Did...did you see Sunny or the Quagmires? Are they all alive...are they well? Where are they?”

Jacques frowned. “I didn’t see them,” he lied. He didn’t want to inform Klaus that he had seen Duncan, Isadora, and Sunny fall unconsciously out of the red herring statue. He didn’t want to inform Klaus that Sunny had a muzzle around her toddler mouth and he didn’t want to admit that when he saw them that he didn’t act in the moment. Because he realized now, that maybe...just maybe he should’ve. He watched Klaus’ desperation take over as tears were forming in his eyes. “But...I’m willing to bet my life that they’re all still alive. Maybe not well...but alive.”

“Detective Dupin, VFD already has a strict system of punishment in place. In accordance with rule number two, which deals with rule-breakers, Count Olaf is to be marched into the center of town and issued a stiff but reasonable fine.” an Elder explained loudly.

Klaus looked to the Elder incredulously. If Count Olaf were actually the one who had been caught he would be arguing relentlessly that Olaf deserved much, much more than a fucking fine. He glared at the vicious man who was giving the Elders the same exact look. Klaus knew his thoughts were vicious, he knew they were immoral. But he couldn’t make himself care at this point. He believed Olaf didn’t deserve jail time. He deserved death. Violet sighed in relief, she too would have argued for a much stricter punishment for the real Olaf but seeing that this was her uncle, she was perfectly fine with a stupid fine. But Olaf and Esme didn’t seem too satisfied.

“That’s all you birds got?” Dupin asked incredulously.

Jacques smirked as he glanced back at his niece and her brother. “How did he capture you?” Violet asked.

“How did you know me? ” Klaus asked realizing that he didn’t get the chance to introduce himself to Jacques. Jacques already knew who he was before he knew who Jacques was.

Jacques smiled at Klaus. “To answer, you Klaus, your family and mine have always been...close.” Jacques looked pointedly at Violet as he answered. “I can see Beatrice and Bertrand in you from a mile away…” he turned to Violet. “I can see Beatrice and my brother in you from miles away as well, Violet. You’ve got the Snicket eyes. Now to answer your question, Violet, Olaf and I have what you’d call a history.”

“I know,” Violet replied. Jacques and Klaus looked at her confused and shocked.

“Why do you have the same eye tattoo as Olaf?” Klaus asked.

Jacques chuckled. “Silly boy, it’s not an eye,” he lifted his pant leg for Klaus and Violet to see his tattoo once more. “Look closer. It’s three letters.” Jacques traced his tattoo with his finger. “V...F...D,”

Klaus’ eyes widened in surprise as Violet’s turned into a glare. Which confused Jacques. He was sure she’d be surprised, too. He knew Lemony would never teach his child about VFD.

“Oooh! Maybe house arrest! And he has to wear one of those scratchy ankle things.” Mr. Lesko suggested loudly.

“You’re getting warmer, fancy pants! But let’s make it hot!” Dupin yelled to the crowd.

“Listen...once I’m free, and I will get free,” he reiterated. “And the Quagmires and Sunny are safe. My associate and I will take you…” he began before being cut off by Esme.

“I know!” she squealed. “I say we burn him at the stake!”

Everyone in the Town Hall got quiet for a second except for Olaf’s troupe who cheered at Esme’s suggestion. Violet’s eyes widened as Klaus looked to the villains in disbelief. Even Jacques’ face turned frightened, as he remembered what Olaf said about his little plan.

“Fantastic idea!” the first Elder replied.

“Tremendous!” the second Elder commented.

“Ethically iffy but very exciting,” the third Elder agreed.

Jacques quickly turned to the two children as the town cheered. “Okay...I may need some help after all,” he admitted. He smiled at Violet. “Ever break a man out of prison?” he asked.

Violet and Klaus looked at one another skeptically. “How hard can it be?” Violet asked uncertainly.

“That’s the Snicket spirit,” Jacques replied. “You sound like your aunt,”

“My aunt…?” Violet asked.

Before Jacques could reply to her. The three Elders smacked their gavels down to silence the crowd.

“Then it is settled!” one yelled.

“Olaf will be burned at the stake tomorrow after breakfast,”

“Meeting adjourned!” the last elder yelled as many townspeople began to get out of their seats heading towards the exit.

“ No!” Violet screamed. “That’s not Count Olaf! That’s my uncle!”

Detective Dupin began to scat happily, smirking towards Jacques and the two children.

“Wait your uncle is Count Olaf?” Mrs. Morrow asked.

Violet shuddered at the mere prospect. “ No!” she screeched.

Klaus stood up quickly trying one last thing to save his sister’s uncle. “Wait! You can’t burn this man. If you believe he is Olaf...then he has my sister and my friends kidnapped. He knows where they are. We should postpone burning him until they're found!” he reasoned.

Officer Luciana just laughed as she roughly grabbed Jacques’ shoulders. Violet glared at her. “Unhand him, you bitch,” she hissed through her tears.

Luciana ignored her. She turned to Klaus. “Don’t worry little orphan boy. We don’t need Count Olaf to find the missing children. We have the great and famous Detective Dupin for that.”

Klaus glared towards the villainous woman as Dupin stepped closer to him. “Yes, Officer Luciana is right. I’ll find the missing children without the help of this vile man.”

“Glad to see you’re self-aware,” Jacques remarked.

“Andiamo, prisoner!” Luciana replied pushing Jacques. Jacques rolled his eyes as he started to walk away from Violet and Klaus. “I’m counting on you, volunteers,” he called out to the children. Violet hated that word so much but she was willing to be a volunteer if it meant saving her family. “Snickets take care of their own,” he called out to her, which hit her into her core. He was right. Snickets did take care of their own.

Violet stood up ready to chase after Luciana and her uncle. Ready to beat down Esme in order to save him.

“Uh uh,” Dupin muttered stepping in front of Violet. “You wouldn’t want to leave the bookworm here...all alone...with me, would you?” he asked in a low whisper grabbing onto Klaus’ shoulder.

Violet glared at Detective Dupin. Jacques turned around to make sure Olaf wasn’t harming either child. “ Get away from her, you fuck!” he barked. Struggling with Esme to turn around and protect his niece and Klaus.

Esme sighed and pulled out her baton. Thwacking Jacques in the side with it as hard as she could. “Let’s go, prisoner!” she yelled as Jacques groaned in pain.

“Uncle cow!” Violet yelled. Her mind was such a mess, she didn’t even realize what she had said until she noticed Olaf laughing.

Jacques rolled his eyes. “Lemony would tell you that fucking story,” he muttered as Esme pushed him out of Violet and Klaus’ sight. Detective Dupin followed behind them, he turned back to the two kids.

“Didn’t I tell you that you would love that part?” he called out to Violet. He wasn’t even turned to face her but she knew he was smirking. She could hear it in his voice. As he walked out of the nearly empty Town Hall, leaving the two kids with Hector, who was slowly standing up. “See you soon, orphans,” he began to maniacally laugh. His laugh echoing the empty Town Hall as he left the two siblings and their guardian.

Violet fell to her knees and began to sob. “No...no...no...this isn’t fair. He can’t...he isn’t...he won’t take anyone else from me!” she hissed reaching for her ribbon.

“Violet...are you okay?” Klaus asked as he helped Hector to his feet.

“Of course, I am,” Violet replied tying her hair tightly. “ Snickets take care of their own.”

There had never been a time that violet Snicket had said that motto and meant it as much as she did at that moment. With a fire burning in her Snicket eyes, she refused to allow Count Olaf to take anyone else from her.

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amaliabalash · 5 years

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I’ve been trying to figure out how to write a post like this for months. and this is the best I came up with. Please send me asks if y’all want me to talk more about OSF’s production because, trust me, I want to talk more about OSF’s production. This would be so much longer if Tumblr allowed more than 10 photos.

I also decided to include my even more rambling plot synopsis I wrote back in 2015 when trying to tell my friends about the show. So if you wanna go deep, go ahead and click the read more. I only made a few edits from the run down I wrote back then, though, so I can’t promise coherency and can promise redundancy if you already know the show. And small jokes with myself that reflect dialogue that was cut for Broadway. :)

It begins with the actor who plays the Philanax (the Fool) giving the opening announcement, and then introducing the show and some of the cast in ways that reflect their characters (such as just saying “they had another daughter” about Philoclea but never introducing Tala Ashe as playing her).

The first scene opens with Basilius and Dametas going to visit the oracle. She prophesizes that the king's eldest daughter will consummate her love but with no groom, his youngest daughter will marry one who the king has forbidden ("so she he will assume"), that he and his wife will have one affair, and that he will no longer be king. A flag is displayed for each prophecy, and she states that as each prophecy comes to pass, a flag will fall. Angry about the content of the prophecy, the king rejects it and wagers the oracle that it will not come to pass. Once she leaves, he tells Dametas that he will outrun the prophecy by taking his family and fleeing his Arcadia.

Meanwhile, back in the Arcadia (“This Town”), we are introduced to the eldest daughter Pamela, Mopsa, Philoclea, and queen Gynecia. Pamela and Philoclea discuss missing their father, who is to return in a fortnight (soon!). Gynecia comes in to inform Pamela that there are 47 suitors waiting for her (with none for Philoclea) and that Pamela should choose her own husband out of love, so that the king does not arrange a marriage for her. Gynecia leaves, and Pamela tries to comfort her sister about her plainness (“you are plain, ‘tis a shocking plainness, ‘tis a stunningly routine appearance!”) and lack of suitors. Mopsa judges this hardcore. Pamela sings "Beautiful" as she gets ready, and then as she meets the "finalist" suitors. Fun fact: during the talent portion of the suitor competition, one of the suitors has a Trekkie monster puppet, because Jeff Whitty. Pamela ends up dismissing all of the suitors.

Philoclea is on her own after the suitor festivities, and is met by her childhood friend, the shepherd boy Musidorus. They are unbearably cute listening to each other's heartbeats. Unfortunately, Gynecia walks in on them as Musidorus is listening to Philoclea's heartbeat and she shoos him off. Gynecia tells Philoclea that her father would never approve the match with Musidorus, and she warns her against love altogether. She then introduces Philoclea to the "sisters of the order" and basically hints that being cloistered is the best choice for her. Philoclea sings "Good Girl."

Basilius returns to the kingdom and briefly greets the family, lies about his experience with the oracle, and tells them they're going to go away for a year ("Get Up and Go"). He doesn't know where yet, so Philanax suggests Bohemia, and off they go! The question of who will be king comes up, and Basilius picks an audience member to come on stage and take his crown - and that's one prophecy fulfilled.

As they're leaving, Musidorus stops them to ask for one of the daughters' hand in marriage. Basilius, Gynecia, and Pamela all assume he is proposing to Pamela, and the clarification that he means Philoclea is shock to the family. He is awkward and adorable this whole time, and proposes very poorly, singing first off key and then way too fast. Philoclea is pressured by her family to say no, so she says no because she believes it is what is best for all. Musidorus is heart broken, and Philoclea clearly is too. He finally finds his words as the family is leaving, and it is too late (“I’m mad, I’m mad, I’m mad! I’m mad about yooouuuu.”). Musidorus runs off in the direction the family left in.

They travel a long time, and finally Gynecia requests they stop. They set up camp, and Dametas privately brings the flag that fell when Basilius gave up his crown. Basilius is upset, but decides that it was only one, things will be okay. He designates Dametas to be protector of his daughters' innocence (this can only go well, right?). Meanwhile, the princesses are getting comfortable in camp. Pamela, per Philanax's suggestion, is writing a poem about her ideal suitor. Philoclea and Philanax play a game, where each side of the card has an opposite idea, and one must figure out how both can be true at once, in order to clear the card. (Theme of the show alert!) Pamela has not quite finished her poem, but decides to read what she has done. Lots of puns about lady parts and unfinished (but obvious) rhymes are made, ones that no one seems to grasp the meaning of but Mopsa, whose face is best described as O_O throughout the recital.

Once Philanax and Philoclea both leave for bed, Mopsa talks to Pamela about the fact that her attraction may not be what it seems. This leads to an argument ("Automatic Rainy Day"). This number is AMAZING live and I wish the audio could capture it better, by the end they're both on platforms a few rows into the audience, on opposite sides of the theatre, belting, and just. holy crap. All the applause for Britney Simpson and Bonnie Milligan. During this song, Mopsa tells Pamela she will leave her at journey’s end.

Next, we see Musidorus, who is following the family at a distance. He is glad they stopped, but quickly realizes he brought nothing with him, and is likely to perish if left in the wild. He stumbles on a chest with a covering, removes it, and finds two skeletons on top (insert theatre jokes here). He is resigning himself to dying alongside them, when a voice from the chest disturbs him. It turns out to be Philanax, who helps Musidorus with a plan to enter the royal family's camp in disguise - how convenient that it was a trunk of costumes he found! "Vision of Nowness" happens, and by the end Musidorus is disguised as an Amazonian warrior woman.

Back at the camp, Basilius and Gynecia are arguing. The daughters see them, and so they quickly hide their argument and preach family connectedness ("This Old Feeling"). But then a bear attacks! As the bear is cornering Philoclea, Musidorus in his disguise appears out of nowhere and kills the bear. And then a LION shows and he, with the help of Basilius, kills the lion too. Everyone is fawning over Musidorus and he tells his/her tale of being an Amazon separated from his people. The family all introduce themselves, and when asked for his/her name, Musidorus panics and answers "Cleophila." For the sake of simplicity, I'm gonna refer to Cleophila as her.

The next scene is after two weeks have passed. Everyone enjoys Cleophila's company, Cleophila particularly enjoys Philoclea's, and both Basilius and Pamela seem particularly interested in the new friend. Gynecia partially narrates this portion, and as she talks about Philoclea befriending the warrior woman and being safe from love, they're in the middle of eating a marshmallow off the same stick. Basilius makes cloaks out of the bear and lion and gives one to Cleophila, and proceeds to flirt outrageously and hilariously.

When Cleophila excuses herself to pee, we see the body language of a male peeing. Gynecia is watching from above and notices her, and soon notices that Cleophila is no she. Shock and horror quickly turn to interest. 3/4 of the royal family are now super into Cleophila knowingly, and Philoclea doesn't realize that it's Musidorus who SHE is in love with. Gynecia begins "Traveling Heart" and some of the most lovely choreography I’ve ever seen (simple but beautiful) begins. In the dance, Pamela is rejected by Cleophila as Cleophila opts to dance with Philoclea. But shortly Philoclea bows out so Pamela can dance, and then becomes visibly upset and leaves. Cleophila is made uncomfortable by attention from Basilius and Gynecia, and runs after the upset Philoclea.

Philoclea sings a slower, gentler "Vacation" as she misses Musidorus, and it is lovely.

Cleophila tries to see Philoclea in her bedchamber, but Dametas isn't having any of that. At least until Cleophila uses her feminine wiles (with a distinct look of annoyance and distaste on her face when Dametas can't see) and Mopsa walks in on her sitting on his lap, and Cleophila sneaks past when fleeing the awkward situation. Mopsa and Dametas discuss wanting happiness for each other.

Cleophila finds Philoclea lying down, upset. She attempts to comfort her, clearly wishing she could reveal herself as Musidorus. Philoclea states that Cleophila has been more sister to her lately than her own sister, and suddenly Pamela uncovers herself from a spot she was hiding, and goes apeshit ("How Much More") in her jealousy. After Pamela leaves, the comforting continues, until Philoclea places her head to Cleophila's chest and recognizes the heartbeat. Tada it's Musidorus! ("Mad About You" reprise) She suggests running away, Musidorus squashes that because of the danger of the wilds, and so they decide to hide in plain sight ("Our Lips are Sealed"). Meanwhile, Pamela returns with a bouquet for Cleophila, and sees Philoclea and Cleophila kissing. Distraught, she leaves, and is found my Mopsa. Again, comforting, revelation, and then one hell of a kiss. Two flags down, to be found by a very confused Dametas. End of act one.

Act two begins with another opening from two of the actors - John Tufts (Philanax) and Bonnie Milligan (Pamela) - which mainly emphasizes "I never said this was a comedy, for comedy demands a happy end." Just to freak the audience out.

"Head Over Heels" begins! Philoclea and Musidorus are happy together walking around, Pamela and Mopsa are happy together in the bath, and both Basilius and Gynecia are still lusting after Cleophila. The song ends, and Musidorus tells Philoclea that he believes the king is hitting on him. Philoclea dismisses this as absurd, offending Musidorus's feminine sensibilities. The king has sent Cleophila a love note - and Philoclea tells Musidorus it is actually for the queen, that Cleophila was simply meant to be the messenger. Notes get passed with Cleophila as the go between, both Basilius and Gynecia assuming that they are communicating with Cleophila, not each other. A meeting is set.

Basilius and Gynecia meet in the dark cave, believing that the other is Cleophila. Nevermind that Basilius has a beard where Cleophila doesn't and Gynecia has long hair - it's theatre we're suspending a lot of disbelief already. "I Get Weak." There is a major penis joke being played out as Philanax and some of the men are off the stage lifting a giant log and two bushes. This goes right into "Heaven is a Place on Earth," sung by the oracle and the ensemble ladies. The fourth prophecy has been fulfilled - the Basilius and Gynecia had one affair. The fourth flag falls, Dametas finds it and is overwhelmed by the oracle and the dancing he's seeing.

Next, we see Philoclea sitting with Mopsa and Pamela. Musidorus/Cleophila runs in and tells Philoclea he has just seen something he must tell her about, but Pamela interrupts and calls their meeting to order. Pamela believes that Cleophila and Philoclea are a f/f couple just as Pamela and Mopsa are, and she creates this meeting to tell them she knows and that they are all the same. Finally, with Philoclea and Cleophila not getting it, Pamela and Mopsa kiss much to the shock of Philoclea and Cleophila. As Pamela insists that the sisters truly are the same, Philoclea encourages Cleophila to reveal herself as Musidorus - by lifting up the crown on his head. Now it's Pamela and Mopsa's turn to be incredibly shocked. Pamela and Philoclea fight, as Pamela interprets Philoclea’s reaction as rejection.

Once they depart, Musidorus, with prompting, tells Philoclea what he had been planning on telling her: that he saw her parents leave the cave one shortly after the other, and looking disheveled. Philoclea realizes that this means sex, and there are a lot of jokes about how gross it is to think about your parents having sex. Musidorus tells her he thinks that they both thought that they were with Cleophila - upsetting Philoclea, who still desperately wants to believe her parents love each other. Just then, Basilius and Gynecia come out arguing, confirming that they have had affairs. Philoclea sees this and breaks things off with Musidorus, because she believes her idea of love to be proven wrong. Basilius and Gynecia continue arguing. Pamela and Mopsa begin arguing because Pamela wants to hide their love because of how Philoclea took it, and Mopsa thinks that it is hiding her true self to do so. All of the couples argue, "Unforgiven."

As the couples are all seething, Philanax comes out holding the four flags. Basilius is angry, wondering how all of this happened. The queen and king both state that they had affairs with Cleophila - kissing her in their claims - before Cleophila once again removes the crown to reveal Musidorus. Shock and awe, again. Everyone is freaking out and finally - Philoclea speaks. She says SHUT UP and it is SO satisfying. She tells everyone about her and Musidorus, about their fight, but that she loves him still. It's a nice moment until Basilius gets upset again about losing his bet with the oracle, about losing control. He goes after Musidorus with a knife, blaming his problems on him. "Lust to Love." As the song ends, he kills Musidorus.

Basilius is reeling from what he just did, his whole family and everyone around (Mopsa, Dametas, Philanax) are horrified. He orders Musidorus's body to be taken away. He realizes that he did not have an affair with Cleophila/Musidorus, and that it was actually his wife he had an affair with. Gynecia berates him and takes charge, exercising her power as queen to have Dametas arrest him. As all of this happens, Philoclea is kneeling by Musidorus's body, and then continues kneeling at the spot once he is taken away.

Gynecia orders the body to be returned and given a proper burial. Philanax looks under the covering once he is returned, and recommends against Philoclea looking. She decides to look anyway, and she straightens and states she is okay. As she says this, her family looks at her like she's nuts, and she continues to defend her stance (“I’m fine, god mom, get off of me”) - the beat comes in, as she is speaking to a beat and Gynecia points this out to her and she finally says, “does anybody need a beat,” looks at Musidorus’s covered body, and it hits her and she falls to the ground crying. They have the funeral, Philoclea sings "Here You Are" and it is beautiful - the sisters of the order appear (who knows why), similar white cloaks are brought for everyone involved, a procession happens etc. At the end, Philoclea leans into the embrace of one of the sisters and feels a familiar heartbeat - shocked, she looks up and Musidorus reveals himself by removing his head covering. (cue an immensely relieved audience who somehow missed him joining the procession midway through the song)

Understandably, Philoclea is very confused. The Oracle appears, and a series of explanations occur (such as holding a stack of paper and saying, “it is a script!”), none fully convincing Philoclea. Finally, Philanax suggests that she accept the miracle, and she does. Lovers reunited, and engaged! Awwwwww. :) Philanax then points out that they have explanations for three prophecies, but hey there's one more... Pamela reveals her relationship with Mopsa, and makes an open commitment. The family supports them! And Dametas asks for the Oracle's - uh, Linda's - hand in marriage. When Gynecia comments on her joy of having three daughters and a son, Musidorus interrupts "or daughters four!" He decides that he would like to keep Cleophila around, both sides of him making one whole. Mixed reception on accepting this, but pretty positive. Basilius finally gets his head out of his ass and accepts his family - old and new. :)

As they near the gates of Bohemia, Basilius apologizes to Gynecia for everything. When they arrive at the gates, they realize that Philanax has led them back to Arcadia - but given all of the changes that occurred, they decide to rechristen the kingdom as Bohemia. Basilius gets his crown back from the audience, and we see all of the changes that occurred for the ensemble as well as they walk out. "We Got the Beat" - everyone is wearing very 80s, very entertaining clothing. The song is interrupted when Philanax gives a monologue as he leaves Bohemia and everyone else behind... it continues, and everyone else lives happily ever after (at least I say they do).

#head over heels #head over heels musical #head over heels the musical #bonnie milligan #long post for ts #if the read more breaks I sincerely apologize for this being on your dash 😬#it's long enough without the cut #I miss OSF's HOH so so so much #and have so much more to say

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