#but yeah no i started off tonight on the marianne chapter and while i did skip around through it cuz ive played it many times and i just | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gilbirda · 4 years

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Chapter 7: Lights, camera, action!

When Marianne finally got home, her mind was going around and far away from her body. She hadn't felt like this before, not even when Roland confessed an eternity ago. She felt like she could fly from her bed and right through the ceiling, floating away in a gentle breeze…

She sighed and opened her eyes, a bitter smile on her lips despite the happiness filling her chest. While this wasn’t something she expected to feel, at least not so soon, she was aware of the things this entailed. That even if Bog kissed her back - she still couldn’t believe that it really happened! -, this whatever that was happening between them could not last.

She was young and he was... what? Ten years older than her? Maybe even more, and that was just too much for her. Why the hell did she think that it was a good idea? I mean, she was the one that took the first step. She, who despised romance and love. She, who denied to her own sister that something was going on between her and the librarian.

Marianne put a hand over her eyes, snorting at the thought. She was being too silly with this. Bog was an adult and he knew that this couldn’t continue. Yeah. Tomorrow she was going to sit down with him and discuss the termination of…

Of his soft kisses and warm hands? Of the way that he looked at her like she was beautiful? Like she mattered, like her existence was worth something for someone. Bog’s blue eyes told her what she had needed to hear this whole time, bringing the life she had lost back to her. And it has only been one evening like this.

A future with him was too tantalising. In less than a year she would be eighteen and she would be legally an adult. She could date whoever she wanted, so it wasn’t a wild thought to be… involved with the librarian. Romantically.

Marianne chuckled lowly. God, she was a mess.

“You are pretty quiet tonight,” Dadga said to his eldest daughter, who hadn’t touched much of her dinner.

When he finally got home and found that Marianne forgot to make dinner he thought nothing of it. The girl was in her last year and it wasn’t weird that she would be balancing a lot of work right now. And, of course, her after school punishment for bad behavior.

“Huh?” she asked without looking up from her food. The Director looked at Dawn, but the girl shrugged in response, not knowing what was going on with her sister.

“Is everything okay at school?” he asked, putting down his fork.

Marianne blinked slowly and smiled, knowing what was going to happen if she told him the truth. It would eventually go back to Roland, that why did she have to end her relationship with him if 'things were going great’ and that she was prettier without that much make up. She would answer that her reasons were her own, and that her choices weren’t driven by a broken heart, as everyone seemed to assume. He would scoff and tell her that why did she have to be so difficult and if Violet was still there with them she wouldn’t behave like this.

She hated when her father mentioned her mother like that, like if she were still alive they would be happy and things would go as planned. Things wouldn’t suddenly be going to get better, she was aware of that, and if he wanted her to be happier he could at least pay attention to what she had to say for once in his life.

But right now she was way too tired to start a fight. That’s why she just smiled and said:

“Nah. Everything is ok.” But her father’s face didn’t look very convinced.

“You sure? You look… different,” he frowned and leaned in, trying to look closer at his daughter’s face. “Don’t you think so, Dawn?”

The mentioned girl smiled weakly. Marianne was crushing on a handsome, tall librarian, but she couldn’t say it. She chose the safe route and shrugged again.

“Something new lately?” he kept trying to connect with his little girl. She seemed so far away since Roland… she was not the Marianne he used to know. “Maybe -,” he swallowed hard, “Maybe a boy?”

Marianne looked at him so fast and he knew that he was right.

“Roland?” Dagda smiled tentatively, but the teenager was shaking her head already.

“Never,” she sighed and ate a few bites with a frown on her face. “I’m not hungry anymore. I’ll eat this tomorrow.” She got up and went to the kitchen to store the food.

The father blinked in surprise and sighed. Roland was a delicate topic in the house and he didn’t know how to bring it up anymore without getting this type of response from the girl. It was like the mere mention of his name triggered her defenses and made her even more closed off to the world than what she usually was.

When they had that final fight where they broke up, he thought it was going to simply go away in a while. Yes, they were in the same school but their classes were in different parts of the building so she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him everyday. And kids were like that, right? One partner here, another one later… He had a few girlfriends in high school and he never behaved like that when those relationships ended.

He wished that his wife were still alive. She would have known what to do. Maybe it was a woman’s thing? He never understood them very well, specially not teenagers, but he was trying.

Why was Marianne being so difficult? Just let it go, that’s what he usually tried to tell her. Even if it is going back with Roland and resolve this absurd tension or finding someone else to be with - he didn’t care. He just wanted his old Marianne back.

***

“What have you told him?” The older sister cornered Dawn once she got back to her room. The blonde was expecting this conversation sooner or later, so she squared her shoulders and smiled innocently.

“Not a thing. Really.”

“Then why did he ask all those questions?” Marianne frowned and crossed her arms.

“I haven’t said anything. I promise,” she sat down on her bed and looked up to her sister with a gentler smile on her lips. “I said I would help you with Bog and that’s what I intend to do.”

“Don’t say his name!” Dawn blinked in surprise, noticing the slight blush on the other girl’s face.

“Oh my,” she giggled. “What happened?”

Marianne blushed deeper and damned her bad luck. Telling Dawn was a bad idea. But it wasn’t like there was much to tell, though; and she still intended to end it - whatever there was - tomorrow once she spoke with the librarian.

“Nothing.”

Dawn smiled wider, her eyes full of mirth in her trademark knowing look.

“Okay, maybe something happened today,” Marianne looked elsewhere in shame, choosing to ignore the tiny shriek of glee from her sister. “But I’m going to end it tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” Dawn jumped to her feet, ready to shake her sister until she were more reasonable. “And tell me the details! Did you kiss?” Marianne’s blush darkened. “Oh my -!”

“Shh!!”

“I know, I know.” the girl jumped in her place. “Is just that I’m sooooo happy! I knew he was good for you!”

“He is not -”

“Nonsense!” Dawn interrupted, placing her hands on her hips as she frowned. “He has been the best thing in your life since… well, since that. You are not letting him go, you hear me!?”

“But he is much older than me, and I -”

“Nonsense!” she said again, this time with a light chuckle. “You are not going down that path, girl. He might be older, but you guys fit so damn well that it doesn’t matter. Age is just a number!”

Marianne sighed in defeat.

“You’ve read too many shoujo mangas, Dawn. In real life things don’t work like that.” The sister made a face at the comment, knowing that the older teen was closed to any argument or reasoning. She bit her lip and used her last card, using the soft voice she reserved for their mother’s memory.

“Mom and Dad had almost ten years of age difference.”

That finally made Marianne listen.

“But - but that’s different!” she tried to defend herself. “They were adults when it happened! They -”

“They met in college and started going out when she was a freshman. Which you’ll be next year, Marianne,” Dawn’s serious face, devoid from any of it usual spark, almost scared the elder sister for a moment. “In a few months you’ll start college and be all adult. You can make your own decisions about love.”

Marianne smirked at the irony of being lectured by her sister, who was using her own thoughts against her.

“I think so,” she shrugged.

“No, don’t run away from this. There’s nothing wrong with it, Marianne. He adores you. I can see that!”

“I…,” she blushed slightly, remembering Bog’s eyes that same evening. They looked at her like she was beautiful. He touched her like she was the most precious thing he had ever seen. He kissed her like it was the last time he could be able to do it.

Maybe it was, her most obnoxious part responded inside her head, reminding her that she should not succumb to the temptation; that changing was bad, that taking risks was what put her in this place first. That romance was for the weak. That letting someone else have that kind of power over her was a bad idea.

And it was, looking at it from certain perspective. Loving someone implied giving them the key to bring her down, and trust that they wouldn’t ever use it. That Roland disappointed her was part of the learning process, but it didn’t mean that the next one would do the same. That Bog would do the same.

Of course Dawn was right. She should stop and listen to her heart for once. If he made her happy then it was stupid to care so much for what they would say or if he’s older and whatnot.

“Oh, Marianne…,” her sister said as she got up. For a moment Marianne was confused by her sister’s behaviour, unable to stop the girl when she hugged her. “Don’t be scared. Everything’s going to be alright.” She patted the older sister’s back.

It was then that Marianne noticed that she was crying.

***

Things weren’t alright, she thought bitterly as she stood in front of the Library’s door, unable to simply open it and face Bog.

She couldn’t sleep last night and her classes were painfully slow and difficult to follow in her sleep-deprived state. Teachers talked about nonsense and formulas and words mixed together in a big mess in her brain. That’s why she knew that it was a bad idea to talk to Bog after school. She needed to be in her right mind to do that conversation.

“Hey,” she heard the man’s voice and blinked open the eyes she didn’t remember closing. The girl looked up and found the subject of her despair right in front of her face, a tentative smile on his lips and obvious nervousness in his eyes.

“‘Sup,” Marianne answered, trying to mask the fact that maybe she just fell asleep while standing there.

“You look horrible.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. Both laughed.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

“I wonder why,” Bog smiled cheekily, surprising Marianne by his bold move. She pushed him to get inside the Library with a scoff, refusing to answer that remark.

She had to stop.

She had to end this.

She had to!

But as soon as they went inside the Library it was like an electric current passed between them, the memories from the previous day going through their minds. Any smart speech she had rehearsed in her mind went out of the window in the moment their skin touched when Bog lovingly caressed her cheek.

She barely had time to sigh before the man leaned down and kissed her, a mere touch on the lips, something chaste and delicate like the situation they were in.

She tried to force her mouth to form words, but blaming the lack of sleep - even if she knew she was more awake in that moment than the whole day -, she wasn’t able to stop the situation. A simple “hey” would do the trick to make him stop kissing her. Anything! But the spell of his lips touching hers broke any kind of resolution inside of her body.

His soft touch on her skin as he caressed her cheeks, cupping her face with so much care with his big hands. It was in moments like this when she forgets how he may look at the rest of the world; that for her he was soft and tender, gentle with infinite care.

And Marianne knew that she was doomed.

She couldn’t stop this, stop him, stop herself. It was like her body acted on its own, crossing her arms behind his neck, bringing him down to her level for better access. Kissing him back with enthusiasm, she decided then and there that what the hell; she was old enough to make these kind of decisions by herself after all.

It was then that they heard a knock on the door, startling them and making them jump and take a step back just in case. Marianne cleared her throat and combed back her messy hair - she glared at the librarian - before opening the door, finding…

“Hello, Buttercup.” The blond man smiled there, showing as much as he could his perfectly white teeth.

“What are you doing here!” she hissed and looked back at Bog with worry. Had they been discovered?

“I came to talk to you. It’s important,” Roland glanced at the librarian, his smile faltering a bit, sending a clear message: It was private, too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave,” Bog sighed and walked deeper into the Library to give them some privacy. Roland waited until he disappeared behind a far shelf to look back at Marianne with a serious expression.

“We have to go, now,” he whispered before grabbing the girl’s arm, pulling with a bit too much force.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m saving you, Buttercup.” She narrowed her eyes, planting her feet on the ground.

“What?” Marianne forced her arm out of his disgusting hands. “And if I needed saving it should be from you!”

“Stop being so difficult! I’m trying to save you from that man!” Roland approached her and put his hands on her shoulders, but it wasn’t a pleasant touch. It wasn’t like when Bog did it, because then she felt protected and warm. Now, it made her fight or flight instinct arise.

“What the hell are you talking about!”

“Marianne,” the sound of her name coming from his lips made her recoil. “You have been seen kissing… that man.”

The girl’s body went cold. Her slow mind tried to process the fact that word of her beautiful relationship, which still didn’t have a name for, with the librarian was already passing around. She felt heavy, she felt tired. She felt like crumbling down. This couldn’t be happening, at least not so soon.

She never had the chance to be happy.

“... and I had to get you as far as possible!” Roland was still talking, but she could barely hear him over the beeping in her ears. “Are you alright?” He put his hand on her cheek, making her snap out of her trance.

“What have you done?” she whispered, looking fiercely at him in the eyes.”Why are you torturing me? Have you not done enough?”

“I don’t know what are you talking about, Buttercu-”

“Silence,” Marianne cut him, too tired to scream. She tried to take a step back, but he still had his hands around her. “Let me go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Because you can’t go back to him.”

“Who the fuck said so.”

Roland smiled, putting his other hand on her left cheek, successfully cupping her face in what could have been a loving gesture. Instead, she felt threatened when Roland leaned down and whispered in her ear: “Your father said so.”

Before she could dwell on the discovery, the speaker on the wall came back to life to deliver the message that the librarian was requested at the Director’s office. Immediately.

#strange magic #butterfly bog #bog king #marianne #lofe #fanfic #writeblr #gil writes #strange magic fanfiction #princess marianne #fanfiction

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moodyvalentinestories · 5 years

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O Thomas Hunt, Wherefore Art Thou My Professor? | Chapter 84

Summary: Watching Hunt and Marianne together is not fun for Rachel. She decides to confront Hunt.

Notes: I couldn’t get through this without drinking half a bottle of wine so make of that what you will.

♢♢♢ O Thomas Hunt, Wherefore Art Thou My Professor? Masterlist ♢♢♢

This story can also be found on AO3 if you prefer reading fics over there.

———————————————————————————————————–

I couldn’t believe it. Hunt really had the nerve to seat me at the end of the table, far away from him and Ms Delacroix. Who was sitting right next to him, of course. As if that wasn’t enough, though, he’d also placed Bianca right across from me.

“It could be worse,” Addison whispered as we sat down. “We could be at one of the tables outside.”

She was right, of course. Though I knew he wouldn’t have dared to do that. He knew better than to insult me like that.

“I guess,” I said. “I just don’t get why he’s even avoiding me.”

But I did, didn’t I? Because it wasn’t just Ms Delacroix. Yes, she was the one who went on the offensive, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t interested. He very clearly was and, there was no doubt about it, she was perfect. Perfect for him.

As waiters started serving the first course, I still couldn’t keep my eyes off the two of them. I couldn’t hear much of their conversation with this many people between us, but their body language was more than enough.

She was very clearly flirting, playing around with her hair and casually touching him whenever she could. And he responded well as he leant towards her, never pulled his hand away when she put hers on his, and – probably the most shocking of all these things – he laughed. He genuinely laughed and smiled and seemed so, so incredibly happy. I’d never seen him so happy.

A snippet of their conversation carried over to us that nearly made me drop the fork I was lifting towards my mouth.

“Oh Thomas, I do miss the good old days. Back when we were both trying to make a name for ourselves and had nothing to lose,” Ms Delacroix said.

Hunt smiled and he looked off into the distance as if thinking of a fond memory. “Things didn’t seem to have the same consequences then, did they?”

There was something there, an implication I didn’t even dare think of. I didn’t have to, though, as Bianca was fast to point it out.

“Yeah, like hooking up.”

I nearly choked on my salad. “Excuse me?”

“Didn’t you know? They used to date. It was a huge deal back in the day,” Bianca said.

I’d suspected, of course, but I hadn’t been entirely sure. This made everything infinitely worse. I knew from experience how easy it was to get back together with an ex, especially after an amicable break-up, which was clearly how things had ended between those two. Not only that, but she was perfect for him.

She was like him in many ways but just different enough – less pessimistic and critical, for one – for them to make a good pair. Not to mention that she wasn’t all that much younger than him… and not his student, like me.

I would never be able to give him this. Sitting next to him, flirting and having a conversation like that, while others were around. Speaking freely without worrying about what others would think of our relationship. I would never be able to make him this happy.

Whatever feelings he may have had for me didn’t matter much. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t willing to cross the line and, clearly, he was moving on. I hadn’t wanted to accept that but, the more I watched him with Ms Delacroix, the more the little spark of hope I’d had left dimmed. Until it was barely there anymore.

As everyone had finished the last course, Hunt got up. “Dessert and after-dinner drinks will be served in the living room in a few minutes. I just have to fetch the Moscato from the wine cellar.”

He left the room and the guests got up to head to the living room. And I sensed that this was my last – my only – chance to get him alone tonight. And I needed to get him alone. Just one more time to make sure that I hadn’t read too much into this.

I slipped away when Addison wasn’t watching and quickly found the open door to the cellar. Hunt was standing with his back to me, a bottle already in his hands.

“Miss Fields, what do you think you’re doing here?” he said without turning around, startling me.

“How did you–”

“Who else would follow me down here? You are the only one who wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to ruin my life for a few minutes.”

Ouch. This really was the way this was going to go, huh?

“Well, you know how I hate to disappoint,” I said pointedly.

He turned around with a sigh. “What do you want?”

“I want… I want to know…” I swallowed hard. I had not thought this through. “Why have you been avoiding me? Ever since I arrived, you’ve been dismissing me.”

He scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Why, oh why, did he have to be so fucking frustrating? “Yes, you do.”

“Miss Fields, I am hosting a party. I have more important things to do than talk to you.”

“More important things?” I asked. I didn’t know why it hurt so much. I’d already known what he’d say when I decided to come down here, hadn’t I? “What exactly is your problem?”

He huffed. “You want to know what my problem is? You are. You are my only problem. Your very presence puts everything I’ve worked so hard for in jeopardy so I’d appreciate it if you weren’t around. At all.”

I felt like someone had punched me in the chest. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Even as he walked past me and all I wanted to do was stop him, I couldn’t. All I could do was stand there and process. And as I did, that tiny little glimmer of hope that had been left finally went out. It was over.

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Tags: @silversparrow02 @hopelessromantic1352 @alleksa16 @lilyofchoices @trappedinfandoms

#wherefore art thou my professor #professor hunt #thomas hunt #rachel #hwu #hwu hunt

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vgckwb · 4 years

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ML: Are They Worthy? Chapter 66: What Makes a Hero!

“Wait, better?” Hao-yu asked. “As in, the peacock miraculous is fixed?”

Master Fu shook his head. “It is still broken” he said. “But at least now Duusu can maintain herself for long enough without someone putting it on.”

“And how does that help?” Corina asked.

Marianne smiled. “It’s simple. She can tell up how the miraculous got broken in the first place, and then we can fix it more accurately.”

“Oh. I see” Corina said.

They all turned to Duusu. “Duusu. How are you feeling?” Master Fu asked.

Duusu examined herself. “I feel alright...all things considered.”

“Tell us. How did the peacock miraculous come to be damaged?” Master Fu asked.

Duusu looked at Fu. She waited, and sighed. “If you must know. It started after you had left the temple. I was in the clutches of the marauder, while Nooroo was in the possession of Master Chi. The two exchanged blows left and right. However, Master Chi was quickly losing steam, after trying to defend the temple. Both sides had taken heavy losses, and the temple itself was damaged severely. In an act of desperation, Master Chi began to speak.”

“What are you going now, old man?” the invader asked.

Master Chi sighed. “Duusu! Nooroo! I know you can hear me!”

“What’s this?” the invader said.

“If you manage to get to Fu again, tell him I don’t blame him” Master Chi said. “He was doing what is right by his heart, and that is the energy we need from a Guardian of the Miraculous. I trust he will guard the ones he has well.”

“What are you going on about?” the invader asked.

“Hmm” said Master Chi. “I wish I could be there myself, but I have more pressing issues. Duusu! I am sorry I have to do this to you! But since protection cannot be afforded to you and Nooroo at the moment, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take drastic actions.”

“Hah! There’s nothing you can do to stop me! I’ll steal that miraculous as well!” the invader said.

“I must protect the miraculous by any means necessary” Master Chi said. “If I can’t make sure you two don’t get taken by the wrong people, I can at least punish someone for using it poorly. Again. I am sorry. For everything. Duusu. Nooroo. Fu. Everyone. I am sorry.” He then raised his hand. A ball of purple energy started to form. The ball grew bigger and bigger until it was massive.

“You think that scares me?” the invader said. Master Chi then dashed over and then unleashed the ball of energy onto the peacock miraculous, breaking it, and killing the invader. Master Chi, having finished his ultimate attack, also passed away.

Back in the present, Master Fu was shaken to his very core. He walked away and sat down. “He did mean every word he said” Duusu said.

Marianne approached Fu. “Are you going to be alright?”

Master Fu sighed. “I will be” he said. “I just need to reckon with what I wrought.”

“We’ve all made mistakes” Marianne said.

Master Fu smiled. “You’re right. And now we know what’s wrong with the peacock miraculous, we can fix it fully.”

“So, what can you tell us about Hawk Moth?” Hao-yu said.

Duusu looked down. “Well, I can’t tell you who he is. Or who Mayura is.”

“Any information would be helpful” Hao-yu said.

“Well,” Duusu began, “Hawk Moth might seem evil, and has done terrible things, but he’s mostly really sad.”

“How come?” Corina asked.

“Well, before Mayura, there was another user of the peacock miraculous” Duusu explained. “This user would use the miraculous to help people in secret. Hawk Moth cherishes her very much. So, when she succumbed to the effects of the damaged miraculous, he found the butterfly miraculous and the grimoire among her possessions. He figured if he could get Ladybug and Cat Noir’s miraculous, he could wish to cure her.”

“How awful,” Corina said.

“...To be honest, I wish she could be cured as well” Duusu said. “She was one of the best users of the miraculous I’ve ever had. Mayura’s alright too, but she just blindly follows Hawk Moth.”

“I see,” Master Fu said. “Well, I suppose that that is helpful.” Duusu shuddered. “Rest now, Duusu. It’s time now to prepare a full cure.”

After school the next day, Chloe and Sabrina met up. “So, my place, or yours?” Chloe asked.

“Actually Chloe, I was thinking of actually going out now” Sabrina said.

Chloe was shocked. Her face then lit up. “Oh THANK YOU!” she said, hugging her. “I’ve always wanted to do this!”

“Ahem!” said a voice. The two girls turned to see that it was Beyyo. “I hope I’m not interrupting something.”

“It’s alright” Chloe said, letting go. “What do you want?”

“I just came over to inform Miss Sabrina that she has passed as a hero” Beyyo said. Sabrina got excited. “Judgement Wolf also sends his apologies. He just has some personal baggage that extended to your answer.”

Sabrina smiled. She petted him and said ”Tell him it’s OK. He did manage to see through it and pass me anyway.”

Once she was done, Beyyo smiled and said “I’ll graciously pass that along.” He left.

Meanwhile, Vlad stopped Marinette and Adrien. “Hey Marinette!” he called. They turned their attention to him. He walked up to them and whispered to Marinette “Master Fu would like to see you whenever possible.”

Marinette was confused. But then she smiled and said “OK.” She and Adrien walked off.

Beyyo returned to Vlad. “Hey buddy. How’d it go?”

“It went well” Beyyo said. “Sabrina forgives you.”

Vlad smiled. “Of course” he said. He walked off.

Marinette and Adrien headed into the bakery. “Hi mom. Dad” Marinette said.

“Adrien, what brings you here?” Sabine said.

“I’m taking Marinette to a concert tonight” Adrien said. “We were just planning on hanging out here until then. If that’s alright with you.”

“I’m OK with it,” Tom said.

“Same” said Sabine.

“Great! Marinette said. “Let’s head upstairs.”

“Say, does he know?” Sabine said. Marinette froze.

Adrien looked back confused. “Do I know what?”

“NO!” Marinette said. “And he will never know!”

“Oh come on” Sabine told her. “He’s going to need to know at some point. Otherwise, how will you explain it all?”

“All of what?” Adrien asked.

“NOTHING!” Marinette said.

“Even outside of safety, you’re going to have to tell him” Tom said. “He has some pretty stiff competition. Trust me. I’ve been on the business end of Cat Noir, and it’s not a good place to be.”

Marinette’s head was in her palm. Adrien smiled. “I don’t think I need to worry about Cat Noir.” He winked at Marinette, who groaned.

“Still, have you told Cat Noir?” Sabine asked.

“Mom, please…” Marinette said.

“What do you need to tell him? I could probably get the message to him” Adrien asked.

“Please no,” Marinette said.

Tom and Sabine were confused. “How?” Tom asked.

Adrien chuckled. “Let’s just say he and I are very close.”

Tom and Sabine’s jaw dropped. “Oh my goodness, you’re him, aren’t you?”

“What, no?” Adrien said. “I just-”

“I can’t believe it” Tom said. “Cat Noir and Ladybug are an official couple!”

Adrien was shocked. His face contorted into a mess to try not to break. “What? Cat Noir and Ladybug got together? Since when did that ha-”

“They know,” Marinette said.

Adrien turned to her. “What?”

“They know I’m Ladybug,” Marinette said. “That’s why I’ve wanted this conversation to end.”

Adrien stood silently. “Oh” he finally said. “When did yo-”

“She didn’t tell us,” Sabine said. “I figured it out.”

“I see…” Adrien said. He chuckled. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.”

“My daughter, Ladybug, and her boyfriend, Cat Noir!” Tom said. “Who’d have thunk it?”

“Yeah” said Adrein.

Plagg floated up. “Do you have any cheese?” he asked.

“Plagg!” said Tikki emerging. “Don’t be rude.”

“What? They know” Plagg said.

Sabine met Plagg’s eyes. “You must be Cat Noir’s kwami-thing” she said.

“It’s just ‘kwami’, but yes” he said. “The name’s Plagg.”

“I must apologize for his rudeness,” Tikki said. “He’s not as considerate as other kwamis.”

Sabine smiled. “It’s OK Tikki. You don’t have to get jealous. You’re still our favorite.”

“Hm. I’m not jealous” Tikki said. Sabine tickled her and her frown was removed from her face.

Marinette got a phone call. She answered it. “Hello?”

“Marinette! Thank goodness! I don’t know who else to call.”

Marinette was puzzled. “...Jagged?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And I have an emergency! I was wondering if you could help me out!”

“Uh, sure? What is it?” Marinette asked.

“Come over to Le Grand Paris. We can talk there” Jagged said. He hung up.

“What was that?” Adrien asked.

Marinette looked at her phone. “That was Jagged. He said he needed to see me.”

“Jagged? As in Jagged Stone?” Adrien said.

“The very same” Marinette said.

“Well come on. We should go!” Adrien said.

“Hold it!” Tom said. “Don’t forget your cheese!” He threw a piece of cheese.

Plagg caught it. “Thank you.” He slipped into Adrien’s jacket, and Tikki slipped into Marinette’s purse. The two teens ran off. Plagg popped his head out. “See? I can be considerate.”

“Not now!” Tikki said. The two returned to their hiding places.

Once they had gotten to Le Grand Paris, Marinette opened the door to Jagged’s room. “What seems to be the problem?” she asked

“Marinette?” said Penny. “Jagged, did you call her?”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Jagged said.

“It’s not going to work. We have to cancel tonight’s show!” Penny said.

“What’s going on?” Marinette asked.

Penny rolled her eyes. “Marcel, our bassist, got food poisoning and can’t perform tonight. Jagged still wants to do the show, but without a replacement, we don’t know what to do.”

Marinette smiled. “I just might have a solution,” she said. Penny and Jagged looked at her.

Luka was at his dad’s place when he got a phone call. “Hello?” he answered.

“Hi Luka. It’s Marinette...”

“Oh. Hi Marinette” he said. “What’s up?”

“Um, well, this is slightly embarrassing, but could I get Ashe’s number?” she asked.

“Well, you could just talk to her now” Luka said. “I’m at my dad’s place.”

“Really? That’s great” Marinette said.

“Hold on,” Luka said. “Hey Ashe! Marinette wants to talk to you.”

He handed her the phone. “Hey Marinette,” Ashe said. “What’s up?”

“Uh, well, ho boy” Marinette said. “You might not believe this, but I’m here with Jagged Stone. His bassist for tonight is sick, and I was wondering if you could replace him.”

Ashe smiled. “I’d love to,” she said.

“Really?” Marinette said.

“BUT I have a better idea” Ashe said. “If you’ll excuse me for just a second.” She pressed the phone against her shoulder. She walked up to her mom. “Hey mom.”

May turned to her. “Hey sweetie. What’s up?”

Ashe was a tad nervous. “Well… you know how you said you might play on stage again if the right opportunity presented itself? Well, this thing came up, and I think you’d like it.”

May was confused. “What’s going on?”

Ashe explained. “See, Jagged Stone’s bassist is sick and he has a concert tonight. Would you want to take over as bassist for him? If not, I can totally do it. I just wanted to ask you first.”

May was shocked. “Ummmm, I guess I could,” May said. “I hope I’m not too rusty though.”

Ashe smiled. “You’ll be fine,” she said.

“Where is this concert?” May asked.

“It’s at the Dome de Paris, honey” Richard said. “I bought tickets for us to go tonight. But it seems like you might not be able to use yours.”

May smiled. “You’re just the sweetest thing.”

Ashe turned back to the phone. “OK. My mom has agreed to perform tonight. What time should she show up?”

“Uh, hold on for a second” Marinette said. “What time should the replacement bassist show up?”

Penny thought on it. “Well, sound check is at 6, so 5:30.”

“Got it” Marinette affirmed. “Around 5:30.”

“Great, see you there!” Ashe said, hanging up. She tossed the phone back to Luka.

Marinette put her phone away. “And you have a bassist now.”

Jagged looked at Penny and said “Told ya she could do it.”

At 5:30, Penny, Jagged, Marinette, and Adrien were waiting. “Sorry!” said May. They turned to see May, Richard, and Ashe running up to them. “I just had to dig this out of storage” she said, gesturing to her bass case.

“Hang on, you seem familiar” Jagged said.

“Is it OK?” Richard asked. May nodded. “She’s May from Pest Control.”

“PEST CONTROL?!” Jagged said. “WOW!” He shook her hand. “I’m a HUGE fan!”

“Thanks,” May said.

“You know, Pest Control is what got me into music as a profession” Jagged said.

“Really?” May said.

“Totally” Jagged said. “You guys were so raw! I felt that. I wanted to be like that.”

“Well, thank you,” May said.

“It’s a shame what happened,” Jagged said.

“What happened?” Marinette asked.

“Let’s just say Dave, the lead singer, turned out to be a bad person” Penny said.

“Oh,” Marinette said. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK Marinette,” Penny said. She turned to May. “It’s a pleasure to meet you madame '' she shook May’s hand. “I’m a bit of a fan myself.”

“‘A bit of a fan’?” Jagged said. “Penny’s an even bigger fan of Pest Control than me! She can recite your lyrics in her sleep!”

“Jagged! You’re making me blush” Penny said.

May giggled. “Well, it’s always nice to meet fans.”

“Well, I don’t think I need to tell you what to do” Penny said. “Do you know Jagged’s music?”

May nodded. “It might be a bit messy, since I haven’t practiced it too much, but I think I can do alright.”

“Great!” Jagged said. “Then let’s get to sound check!” He grabbed May and took her to the stage.

“So, where are you kids sitting?” Richard asked.

Adrien took out the tickets. “We’re sitting in the fourth row.”

“We’re in the sixth” Ashe said. “Come on. Luka and Juleka are waiting outside. Let’s go wait with them until doors open.”

“Great idea!” Marinette said. “Maybe we can invite Luka and Juleka’s mom to take that extra ticket.”

Richard smiled. “What a wonderful suggestion. I’ll give her a call right away.” The four of them left.

Jagged and May went to the stage, while Penny waited in the wings. “Alright” said Jagged. “Let’s get acquainted with everyone.” He pointed to a guy in black pants and jacket with a yellow shirt, blonde hair in a buzzcut, and sunglasses. “That guy is Wazz” Jagged said.

“Sup” said Wazz.

“He plays piano for me when I can't,” Jagged said. “And that guy there is Trent” he said, pointing to a guy with shoulder-length brown hair, a purple tee shirt, and jeans. “He plays guitar when I can’t. And over there is Rachel.” He pointed to a girl wearing a backwards red cap, a white tank top, a plaid shirt tied around her waist, and jeans. “She plays drums for me.”

“Hey there” she said, saluting.

“And that right there is Vivica” Jagged said. She waved nervously. “She may be young, but she’s very talented. And she plays all of the guitar parts that I don’t play.”

“Hi,” she said.

“Everyone! This is May!” Jagged said.

“Alright people, you know the drill” Penny said. “We’ve got a concert coming up, so let’s test out everything!”

May set her case down and opened it. “Woah! Is that really the Blue Rose?” Jagged asked.

The Blue Rose is May signature bass. “Well, we don’t want to disappoint now, do we?”

Jagged was astonished. “YES!” he said. The band was getting ready.

Before sound check wrapped up, Jagged turned to May and asked “Listen, um, as long as you’re here tonight, would you mind doing a Pest Control song with us as an encore? It’s OK if you don’t.”

May was hesitant. “Well, which one?” she asked.

“Paradise on Fire” Jagged said.

May smiled. “Sure.”

Jagged was ecstatic. He turned to Rachel and Vivica. “Rachel. Vivica! Do you two know how to play Paradise on Fire by Pest Control?”

“Are you kidding?!” Vivica said. “That’s one of the first songs I learned.”

“I know it too” Rachel said. “It’s a great song.”

“Thanks,” May said.

“Wait...You’re May from Pest Control, aren’t you?” Vivica said. She nodded. “This is so amazing!”

“I know, right?” Jagged said. Penny gave him a stern look. “But, let’s get back to work, shall we?”

Later, the concert started, and Jagged and his crew played their first song to kick things off. Marinette, Adrien, Richard, Ashe, Luka, Juleka, Anarka, and everyone in the audience were cheering their heads off. After the song was over, Jagged addressed the crowd. “Thank you! You know, tonight almost didn’t happen. Our usual bassist, Marcel, couldn’t make it tonight. He’s feeling under the weather. I hope he gets better soon.” The crowd agreed. “But tonight, we have a guest bassist. Please put your hands together for May!” The crowd applauded. “May was the bassist for one of my favorite bands, Pest Control. It is an honor and a privilege to be playing with her tonight. Alright, now let’s keep things rollin’!”

The concert went on, and everyone was enjoying it. As the set continued, the excitement grew. After one of his songs, Jagged said “Thank you!” and left the stage with his band.

The crowd called out for an encore, while Marinette was confused. “That’s odd.”

“What is?” Adrien asked.

“The song Jagged just played is usually his encore song” Marinette said.

“Well, maybe he has a surprise for us” Adrien said.

The band started to regroup on stage. Jagged came out last. He grabbed the mic and said “Thank you! Now, as you know, our guest bassist for tonight is from a band called Pest Control. Well, as it turns out, she graciously allowed us to play one of her songs for you tonight. Ladies, and gentlemen, and everyone in between, please give it up for one of my favorite songs of all time; Paradise on Fire!” The crowd roared with thunderous applause.

“I cannot think of anyone I want to be with more than you

I cannot dream of anyone else who can say ‘I do’

My heart is beating out my chest, I cannot think so straight

Our hearts are telling us to go, the world is asking us to wait

Cause it’s crazy

And completely out of control

But my feelings aren’t hazy

I cannot quell my soul

But our Paradise is on fire

And we cannot make it through

Our Paradise is on fire

But we’ll survive cause I’m with you

And as long as we’re together

We can make it through the storm

Our paradise is on fire

But it’s you that keeps me warm

The problem’s only getting worse, we cannot fix it in a day

But we don’t need no simple answer, as long as our hearts do not stray

The critics left and right all say that our love they despise

But I can see a good tomorrow when I look in your eyes

Cause it’s crazy

And completely out of control

But my feelings aren’t hazy

I cannot quell my soul

But our Paradise is on fire

And we cannot make it through

Our Paradise is on fire

But we’ll survive cause I’m with you

And as long as we’re together

We can make it through the storm

Our paradise is on fire

But it’s you that keeps me warm”

(Solo)

“The answers that we seek are hard, we need to sort them out

But power isn’t listening, so we must scream and shout

They have an issue with our love, but we are joined by fate

So let us share our lives right now, before it gets too late

Cause it’s crazy

And completely out of control

But my feelings aren’t hazy

I cannot quell my soul

But our Paradise is on fire

And we cannot make it through

Our Paradise is on fire

But we’ll survive cause I’m with you

And as long as we’re together

We can make it through the storm

Our paradise is on fire

But it’s you that keeps me warm.”

The song ended, and everyone erupted. “Thank you!” said Jagged. “You’ve been a lovely audience, good night!” He left the stage with his band.

Later, Richard, Ashe, Luka, Juleka, and Anarka met May backstage. “That was awesome!” Juleka said.

“Really great!” Luka said.

“You did well mom” Ashe said.

“Thanks kids,” May said.

“That was an excellent show” Anarka said. “It’s always a treat to see a Pest Control song done live.”

“Thank you” May said.

“Really sweetheart,” Richard said, kissing her hand, “you did excellent.” May blushed.

Jagged smiled. “What a lovely family.” He spied Marinette and Adrien. Jagged rushed over to hug her “Marinette!” he said, squeezing her. He let her go. “Thank you. Tonight was amazing, and it’s all thanks to you. You’re my hero.”

“Oh, well, I-” Marinette said nervously.

Adrien put his hand on her shoulder. “Marinette’s amazing” he said. Marinette blushed.

“Jagged!” Vivica called out. She ran over. “Do you think we could incorporate Paradise on Fire into our set from now on? That was electric! And I’m sure Marcel would want to play it as well.”

Jagged thought about it. “I dunno. Is that alright with you May?”

May was surprised by the proposition. “Well, I’d have to contact Byron and Colton, but I’m OK with that.”

Richard smiled. “If you want, you could probably do a cover for your next album” he said.

“Really?” Jagged replied.

“Yeah” Richard said.”I’m gonna talk to Bob about it first thing Monday morning.”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jagged said.

“Know what?” Richard asked.

“Bob’s retiring at the end of the month,” Jagged said. “Word among the staff is you’re replacing him.”

Richard was shocked. May hugged him. She looked up and said “Congratulations honey.”

Richard blushed and said “Thanks.”

Anarka smiled. “You deserve it Richard.”

Marinette smiled. “Well, this has been a wonderful evening, but we need to get going. Seeya!” She and Adrien left.

“Thanks again!” Jagged called out.

“Thank you for a great concert!” Adrien called back. He felt his girlfriend rushing them out. “Where are we going in such a hurry?”

“Master Fu called me” Marinette said. “Remember?”

“Right” Adrien said. He then pondered. “Why didn’t we go right away?”

Marinette looked sad. “It might take time, and I didn’t want to miss this.”

Adrien lifted Marinette’s head up. “Hey, it’s OK. You deserve a night like this.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks.”

The two arrived at Master Fu’s. “Master You called me?” Marinette said.

“Ah Marinette” Master Fu said, looking frazzled.

Marinette saw this, and saw that everyone else was worn out as well. “What happened?”

“Let's just say the peacock miraculous was harder to fix than anticipated” Master Fu said.

“So, it’s fixed?” Marinette asked.

Master Fu nodded. “Of course, Duusu is going to need time for rehabilitation, but we can use it again without worry!”

“Master, that’s great!” Marinette said. “Is that why you wanted to see me?”

He shook his head. “Follow me.” He took out the Miracle Box, put the goat miraculous in, and closed it. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You have served as Ladybug for quite some time now. Though there have been many trials and tribulations, you have overcome each and every one of them. From myself. From Hawk Moth. From the wolf miraculous. Therefore, I have come to a conclusion.” He handed the box to Marinette. “You are to be the next guardian of the miraculous.”

Marinette took the box, still trying to process what was going on. “What? No. I...I can’t”

“Why not?” Master Fu said.

Marinette sighed. “I...I just don’t feel like I’ve earned it. My parents know who I am, as well as Cat Noir. I‘ve done plenty of stupid things. And I’ve doubted people who need my help. I don’t think-”

“Marinette! Look at me” Adrien said, taking her by the arms and getting her to focus on him. He gave her a kiss. “You’re amazing. I’ve known that about you since I first met you. Your strength is like no other. You’re kind, compassionate, and willing to help anyone who needs it. You’re the most amazing person I know. I mean, look at tonight. You’ve helped Jagged Stone put on the best show of his I’ve been to. No one else could have done that.”

“Yeah, but that was just-” Marinette said.

“Shhhhh” Adrien said, silencing her criticisms of herself. “You’re the best. And I won’t let anyone say otherwise. You’re more than ready to accept this duty. I know it’s scary, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Marinette blushed. “Thanks Adrien.”

“Adrien’s right” Tikki said, popping out. “You’re the best Ladybug I’ve ever had. You’ll do just fine as a guardian.”

Plagg came out as well. “Yeah. From what I’ve seen, you’d do great it it.”

“Thanks you two” Marinette said, giggling.

Master Fu smiled. “So, are you ready?”

Marinette nodded. “Thank you for trusting me.” She took the box. “Good night Master,” she said. “Take care of yourself. And Everyone else. Especially Duusu.”

“I will. Thank you” Master Fu said. Marinette and Adrien left.

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roc-thoughtblog · 3 years

Text

Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 24

Chapter 27, Pages 144-150

Previously, the Dashwood sisters arrive in London. Despite apparently being in town, Willoughby seems to be ghosting poor excited Marianne, who is getting more disappointed by the minute. A consolation Brandon just doesn't hit the same.

Readthrough below.

Chapter 27

Dashwood girls and Mrs. Jennings open this chapter by discussing the consequences of fine weather: namely that it keeps sportspeople from wanting to leave the open playing fields of the country. Sir Middleton might delay his arrival to enjoy a few extra days of sunshine, and Marianne's anxieties are eased by considering that maybe Willoughby too couldn't tear himself from a fine country day.

That the sunshine isn't expected to last much longer also makes her excited for the possibility of it no longer (hypothetically) holding Willoughby away from London. I think Elinor and I both suspect the weather has nothing to do with it.

The Miss Dashwoods had no greater reason to be dissatisfied with Mrs. Jennings's style of living, and set of acquaintance, than with her behaviour to themselves, which was invariably kind.

It's been a while since actively noted an Austenism but I feel like it just got inverted. Usually it's something positive that gets the rug swept out under it; this time it's something negative that got inverted. I guess it's extra appropriate here seeing as the Miss Dashwoods have never really held any particularly positive disposition to Mrs. Jennings before. I like it.

Colonel Brandon, who had a general invitation to the house, was with them almost every day; he came to look at Marianne and talk to Elinor

:'D

I would like to do that. The constantly casually visiting friends thing, I mean. Not the looking part. That's a bit odd, though I'm taken to be aware that "can't take my eyes off you" is definitely a thing a that happens to people, so, eh. It's harder in reality though, the constant visiting. Pandemic aside, Mrs. Jennings most definitely has servants taking care of general affairs when anyone visits. If I dropped by on any of my friends though, there's a high probability that I'd be imposing in some way that requires personal domestic effort on my friends' part.

Elinor observes that Brandon's little crush on Marianne is growing somewhat larger than little. Hmm.

Oh! But also, a week into the visit, a card arrives from Willoughby! So he's recieved the communications from Marianne. Despite that though he's made no real substantial response... Marianne's even more highly strung now just waiting for anything. No sitting still, no getting on with anything else in her life. Yeah, I know that feeling, it ain't nice.

Whoop, she got to the point where she snatched a random letter off of a servant just to make sure it wasn't from Willoughby. At this point Elinor can no longer refrain from probing at least a little, but mostly that just offends Marianne who claims to have nothing to hide. While snatching letters from people and pretending it ain't nothang. Nobody is convinced but it doesn't help Elinor extract anything from her.

The Middletons have arrived and Lady M has invited her mother and the Dashwoods over to visit. Sir M has, extremely characteristically, immediately thrown a big party. :'D

Willoughby is of course not in attendance, so it will be impossible for Marianne to feel happiness tonight. The Palmers are there, and Mr. Palmer has apparently forgotten who the Dashwoods are; fair enough. Has forgotten for ONE PARAGRAPH until remembering them AN HOUR LATER dear god this disaster man. :'D

"I thought you were both in Devonshire," said he. "Did you?" Elinor replied. "When do you go back again?" "I do not know." And thus ended their discourse.

This exchange. :'D

I had to go back and check to make sure that the Barton Cottage actually was in Devonshire, because it would've been even funnier if Mr. Palmer just thought they were in some completely irrelevant place altogether. I feel like Jane Austen has to have known somebody who was Mr. Palmer.

Apparently Willoughby was invited to this party, because Sir Middleton ran into him on the street in the morning. He's still not here to even see her. Poor Marianne seems very hurt. Elinor's pretty resolved to get Mama Dashwood's support in intervening now. Marianne is also writing a letter in the morning, which Elinor assumes is addressed to Willoughby, specifically for the lack of any other candidate.

See, when the narration puts it like that, I really start to think she's not writing to Willoughby at all. Maybe somebody else with a W. Or an M, if we're doing the upside down letters fakeout. The Middletons? ... Miss Williams...?

As Elinor drafts the letter to her mother, Brandon visits. Marianne has already vacated the room on account of not being in the mood for company, which is just as well because Brandon seems to want to talk to Elinor alone. ... He probably does that in a general sense anyway, he and Elinor like talking to each other and I sense that Marianne just has zero interest in interacting with him in general, even without considering the current situation with Willoughby.

I haven't really bothered to speculate on who ends up who but it occurs to me that there being three suitors around with varying levels of chemistry for the two sisters, perhaps that is intended to be part of the allure of the novel. It is a romance after all.

Hmm. Nope, can't tell. All three men are rather broadly too absent. Eddie seems too detached to even hold a relationship, and Willoughby is doing his whole ghosting thing. Brandon is the only one who seems to have some kind of normal friendly relationship with either of the sisters, but neither he nor Elinor seem to be remotely interested in each other in any kind of non-platonic capacity, even though they seem to get along quite well. There's too much story left to go.

Oh, anyway, Brandon's come to ask about Marianne's engagement to Willoughby, which is apparently fairly public knowledge. That's not terribly surprising considering I feel like Elinor is the only person who really cares who holds any real doubts. But the rumor doth fly. Brandon's been holding onto some hope that it ain't true, but he's caved after seeing a servant carry a letter in Marianne's writing addressed to Willoughby.

OH NO. HE'S ALSO ASKING ELINOR FOR ROMANTIC ADVICE. HE'S IN SHAMBLES. THAT'S EVEN WORSE THAN ASKING ME FOR ROMANTIC ADVICE. :'D

At least I have absolutely zero stake in any situations people are foolhardy enough to consult me on. Such are the perils of appearing prudent. People bugging you for advice on matters that you really can't give.

Brandon is in some serious shambles right now though. He's kind of stumbling over himself, maybe even rambling a little. He's asking Elinor to fill him in on the exact state of the engagement, but it's almost like he's begging. He's desperate for either a last window for... something, or just some kind of absolute closure that will let him move on. He kind of has it pretty bad; even Elinor is in some shock right now, as though she were the one who suddenly had to deal with a rival engagement. Well. I mean, as though she had to deal with one a second time.

Well it's another tough week for Elinor's advice column. She doesn't barely know much of anything about Marianne's current relationship with Willoughby to begin with. To say what she thinks, that there's something odd going on and in no way confirmed, is to give Brandon false hope because for real he ain't gettin no time of day from Marianne. So she lies and just tells him about as much as anyone else probably says, that it's basically confirmed even if she doesn't know any details.

And that's that. Brandon leaves, emotionally, while wishing Marianne well.

she was left [...] with a melancholy impression of Colonel Brandon's unhappiness, and was prevented even from wishing it removed, by her anxiety for the very event that must confirm it.

Imagine being forced to break your friend's heart on behalf of somebody else, and needing to justify it on the a relationship you're hoping will actually even work out. That's a lot to handle.

That's this chapter. I wonder what this means now? Obviously something is still going to go wrong with Willoughby, and we still have a bunch of loose ends with Brandon, so he can't lose relevance yet.

#1400 words #seem to have a lot more to say past few chapters #Jane Austen #Sense and Sensibility #readthrough #novels

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mrs-mitch-rapp93 · 7 years

Text

Blood Moon Rising (Part 3)

Author: @mrs-mitch-rapp93

Word Count: 3,760

Warnings: Cussing, violence, fluff.

Characters: Stephanie, Stiles, Lydia, Dean, and Sam

Summary: There’s another murder in Beacon Hills, Stephanie and Stiles get to know one another and share their first kiss.

Authors Notes: Sorry it took me so long to post, I enjoyed writing this chapter, hope you guys enjoy and thank you @cathobs and @little-miss-stan for proofreading for me.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8**, Part 9 , Part 10 , Part 11, Part 12 , Part 13

5 weeks later

I was starting to get use to Beacon Hills. There was another murder that was connected to the others, so it looked like Dean, Sam and I were going to be here for a while. I became good friends with Scott, Lydia and Malia. But Stiles? It felt like there was something more than friendship between us. Dean and Sam were still investigating the murders and became close acquaintances with Sheriff Stilinksi.

It was a rainy Friday as I got myself ready for school and headed downstairs for breakfast. I entered the kitchen to see Sam was cooking bacon and eggs, the smell immediately hitting my senses. Dean was talking on the phone with someone.

“Alright. Sam and I will check that out. Thanks for keeping us informed.” Dean said as he ended the call.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked as he put eggs on my plate.

“That was Sheriff Stilinksi. He said they found another body earlier this morning.” Dean answered as he sat down at the kitchen table.

“Have you guys come up with any leads?” I asked while taking a bite of the scrambled eggs in front of me.

“We thought it might still be a Rugaru, but with what Sheriff Stilinski told me, it might be something different. He also mentioned that there’s going to be a curfew tonight. So, Steph. No going out with Stiles, Scott, Lydia, and Malia tonight.” Dean reminded me, giving me a concerned scowl.

“You do know that I can shoot a gun, right?” I commented with a raised eyebrow.

“So? We still don’t know what this is monster is and it just killed another teenager. I don’t want to get a call saying that they found your body in the woods, Steph.” Dean’s voice broke as he spoke. I could have sworn I saw a tear form in his eye.

“Fine.” I muttered, rolling my eyes as we finished eating in silence.

Sam ended up dropping me off at school. As I ran inside the building, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Stiles’ blue Jeep wasn’t parked in its usual spot.

The final bell rang and I went to my locker to put my books I didn’t need for the weekend away. I started heading to the exit and saw Lydia at her locker.

I wonder if she knows where the boys ran off too.

I asked myself before walking over to her locker.

“Hey Lydia. Do you know were Stiles and Scott are? I haven’t seen them all day.” I asked her.

“Who knows with those two? They are ALWAYS skipping class.” Lydia tried to cover the nervous tone in her voice with humor, but I knew better. I had to, living with Sam and Dean. She knew something and she was hiding it.

“Also, Steph, I’m having a party tomorrow night and you’re invited.” Lydia told me as she shut her locker, giving me a sweet smile.

“Awesome! I would love to go.” I exclaimed. My tone changed as I remembered what Dean said this morning. “But isn’t there a curfew starting tonight?” I asked as I opened the door, revealing a pouring rain.

“So? Just tell your brothers that we’re going to see an early movie or something.” Lydia said as she pulled an umbrella out of her bag.

“Sounds like a good idea. I’ll text you and let you know.” I answered and put up my hood.

“Awesome!” She exclaimed before she started to walk away. I saw her turn around, covered by the umbrella. “By the way! Did you want a ride home?” Lydia shouted, trying to keep the rain at bay.

“I’m good! Sam is supposed to pick me up!” I responded, zipping up my hoodie.

“Alright, see you tomorrow then!” Lydia said as she walked to her car. I waited 10 minutes for Sam to come get me. I called and texted him but no answer. I even called Dean and he didn’t answer. I blew out a deep breath and figured that I was walking home. I put my phone in my backpack and put my hoodie up before I started walking. I walked about a mile or two, completely. I took my hood off, frustrated as it was rendered useless by the rain. As I continued walking, I heard a car honk at me. I turned around to see a blue Jeep pull up and the driver rolled down their window. I let out a relieved sigh as I saw Stiles’ face.

“Steph, do you need a ride?” Stiles yelled out the window.

“Oh my God, yes! Stiles, you’re my hero.” I exclaimed as I approached his car and hopped in I was putting my seat belt on when I noticed Stiles had a cut above his right eyebrow and his black shirt had a big rip underneath the collar.

“No problem. You should have called me! I could have given you a ride!” Stiles said as he pulled back onto the road.

“It’s fine. I could have just walked.” I brushed off his comment. “Stiles, are you alright? Your forehead is bleeding.” I started to fret as I reached out to touch his cut. His face twisted in pain and he flinched at my touch.

“Yeah, it’s just a cut. No big deal.” Stiles blew it off like it was nothing.

“Uh huh.” I commented, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. “By the way, where were you and Scott today? You weren’t at school.” I asked Stiles, raising an eyebrow as I looked at him.

“Oh, uh, we had to help Coach with something and it ended up taking all day.” Stiles said with a shaky voice. He turned his attention to the radio to avoid my questions. I could tell he was lying to me. Stiles turned to a station that was playing ‘More Than a Feeling’ by Boston.

“Okay then. This song is one of my all-time favorites. I remember when I was 12, Dean, Sam and I were driving through Tennessee and Dean’s cassette player jammed and we had to listen to this song for an hour.” I reminisced with a smile.

“Boston is awesome. That’s my dad’s favorite band. He would play their albums all the time when I was growing up.” Stiles said as he stopped at a red light. I started humming and then the song consumed me.

“I looked out this morning and the sun was gone/ turned on some music to start my day/I lost myself in a familiar song.” I sang, smiling as Stiles joined in.

“I closed my eyes and I slipped away.” Stiles sang, his voice cracking a bit. I started giggling at him and put my hand on his shoulder. He took his eyes off the road and turned to look at me, giving me a smile. The guitar solo came on and we both sang in harmony when the words returned.

“It’s more than a feeling when I hear that old song they used to play. (more than a feeling) I begin dreaming (more than a feeling) Till I see Marianne walk away, I see my Marianne walking away.” We sang together. We continued singing and then the radio started cutting in and out. The Jeep started making a strange noise and Stiles pulled over just as the car died.

“Dammit.” Stiles muttered as he tried turning the key in the ignition, getting no results.

“Well, I guess we are walking the rest of the way. We’re only two blocks from my house.” I said grimly, patting Stiles on the shoulder.

“I guess so.” He agreed and gave me a half smile. I fumbled for my keys as we approached the house, finally getting them in the keyhole.

“My room is the second door on the left. You can head up there, if you want, and I’ll get us some towels.” I suggested as I followed him up the stairs. He headed to my room and as he turned, I noticed how hot he looked with his black ripped shirt and jeans. His usually spiked up hair was wet and slicked back. I bit my lip to pull myself out of the moment before I went into the bathroom and grabbed some towels, coming back in and smiling.

“Here you go, Stiles.” I chuckled as I tossed him the towel.

“Thanks, Steph. Sorry that the Jeep broke down. I need to get it checked out.” Stiles apologized as he started drying himself off.

“It’s fine. But thanks though for driving me half way at least.” I said, giving him a sweet smile.

“No problem, darling.” Stiles smirked as he patted himself dry. I couldn’t peel my eyes away as the still soaked shirt clung to his skin, outlining his muscles. I shook my head to clear it, trying to think of what to say next.

“You might fit in Dean’s clothes. If you would like me to, I could go find something for you.” I suggested shyly. “I could also get the first aid kit to clean up that cut.” I added with a bit more confidence.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea.” Stiles agreed.

“I’ll be right back.” I said, while leaving my room. I went into Dean’s room and started going through his suitcase. I found a grey long button up sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans before going to Sam’s room and digging for the first aid kit.

“These should fit you.” I said as entered my room. I put the first aid kit on the night stand and handed Stiles the clothing.

“Thanks, Steph.” Stiles said as he put the clothing on my bed.

“You’re welcome Stiles. Well, I’m going to go change.” I resigned with a smile. I went to my closet and grabbed a pair of cutoff jeans and a Led Zeppelin tank top before heading to my connected bathroom. I changed my clothing and looked in the mirror. My eyeliner was smeared from the rain, leaving me almost raccoon like, and my blonde hair was a sopping mess. I wiped my eyeliner with a wash cloth and threw my hair up in a messy bun before walking out of my bathroom. Stiles was pulling Dean’s grey shirt down and I could see his happy trial, sending a chill through my body. I stood there paralyzed and staring, my lips slightly parted as I watched him. He hadn’t noticed me gawking, until he turned his head and spotted me.

“What do you think? Steph, you alright?” Stiles chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah. Sorry. It looks great on you and fits you perfectly.” I stammered, my cheeks becoming hot.

“Good. I might have to steal this from Dean.” Stiles said innocently and smiled.

“I doubt he would noticed it missing.” I said as I went and sat on my bed.

Stiles came over to sit on the bed and noticed my pictures that were on the dresser. The pictures were of me growing up. There was one of my mother, and father (or John as I called him) at my first birthday. The last one was of Dean, Sam and I when I was 11.

“Your parents are a gorgeous couple.” Stiles said as he picked the picture up and examined it more.

“Were a gorgeous couple.” I corrected him, emphasizing the first word.

“What do you mean 'were'?” Stiles questioned and turned his attention to me with a concerned look.

“They’re both dead.” I said. Stiles put the picture down and sat down next to me on the bed.

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.” Stiles asked cautiously as he put his hand on mine.

“It’s a long story. You probably don’t want to hear it.” I muttered, shaking my head as it bowed.

“I have all day, Steph.” Stiles assured me as he squeezed my hand. I instinctively squeezed back, loving how close he was to me.

“First off, Dean and Sam are my half-brothers. We have different mothers, which explains the age difference. Their mother, Mary, died in a house fire when Dean was 4 and Sam was just a baby.” I started, knowing I couldn’t tell him the real cause of Mary’s death. “Anyway, years later John met my mother, Clair, and they hit off right from the start. He didn’t tell Sam and Dean about her and about a year later, I came along. I wasn’t very close to John because he wasn’t around a lot. He would show up on my birthday though. He ended up dying a year before my mother.” I rambled before stopping to take a breath. I looked over to Stiles, getting caught in his hazel eyes.

“You can stop if you want, Stephanie.” Stiles gave me a caring smile. I shook my head and continued, determined to be as honest as I could.

“When I was 4, Dean and Sam showed up at my doorstep. My mother had no idea John had two sons from a previous marriage. Dean and Sam found out about my mother and I when they were looking through some old boxes of John’s and found that picture.” I said as I pointed to the picture on the dresser.

“They told us that John died from a car crash.” I had to cover the truth yet again. John died because of a demon. Azazel. “I remember my mother falling to her knees crying. I didn’t fully understand why she was crying and why these two young men were at our door step. Finally, after she calmed down, my mother explained to me that my father, who had come to my birthdays for the past 4 years died. She introduced me to Dean and Sam, who at the time were in their 20s. She tried explaining to me that they were my brothers but had a different mother, something I couldn’t quite grasp at the time. They ended up leaving a few hours later.” I took a deep breath felt tears start to fall as I forced the next part of my past out.

“That night I heard glass shatter. I got up to check it out and as I was walking down the stairs, I heard my mother yelling at someone. I heard my mother scream and then silence.” I paused, knowing I had to hide yet another part of my past. Having your father and mother taken from you by the same demon isn’t something you can easily share. “A few seconds later, I heard the back door shut. I sat on the stairs, shocked and scared. I finally gained some courage and walked down a few stairs and looked over the railing. I saw my mother’s head lying against the couch. I didn’t see any blood, so I thought she fell asleep or something. So, I went back to bed.” I heaved before I started sobbing, I had totally forgotten that Stiles was there until he put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and continued crying.

“I was woken up by Dean carrying me in his arm down the stairs. Sam and the cops were all there, surrounding my mother. I saw the cops put a blanket over her body. I couldn’t understand what happened. Sam and Dean tried to explain to me that my mother had gone to heaven to be with John and that I was going to be living with them. As I got older, they explained to me what really happened to my mother they said someone broke into the house and my mother tired stopping them from taking any of our belongings but they hit her upside the head so hard that her head snap causing her neck to break. They have been taking care of me ever since.” I finished as I lifted my head up from Stiles’ shoulder. He took his hand and wiped the tears from my face gently, getting him a shy smile in return.

“Damn, Steph. I’m sorry that you went through all that.” Stiles murmured.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told this to.” I whispered.

“If you ever need someone to talk to about anything, I’m here for you” He said kindly.

“Thanks, Stiles.” I answered. I looked over to the night stand and remembered that I had grabbed the first aid kit to clean up the small gash on his forehead.

“Would you want me to clean that cut up for you?” I said, trying to change the subject.

“I kind of forgot about that.” Stiles said with a smile. I sat down next to him after grabbing it and got out band-aids, gauze, alcohol, and Neosporin.

“This might sting a little.” I told Stiles as I put the alcohol on the gauze and started gently dabbing the wound. As the alcohol disinfected the cut, he flinched, his face twisted in discomfort.

“Sorry.” I said with a little laugh.

“You’re fine.” Stiles said. I could see he was watching me concentrate on his wound. I finished by placing the band-aid over the cut. With the amount that Sam and Dean came back from hunts broken and bruised, I could have easily passed as a field nurse during a war. I pulled away and we looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. His eyes had a sparkle in them I’d never noticed before. Suddenly, Stiles put his left hand on my face and pulled me forward into a kiss, his lips soft and warm against mine. I pulled away and looked at him wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that” Stiles muttered as his cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red. I smiled at him slyly before wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him again. He put his hand on my lower back and our bodies fell against the bed, causing the first aid kit to crash on the ground. His body loomed over mine as he kissed me over and over, each kiss deeper than the one previous. His lips curled into a smile between each one. He finally pulled away, his hands above my head.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the first day I saw you.” Stiles heaved, his chest was rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.

“I wanted to kiss you the first second I laid eyes on you.” I murmured and sat up and kissed him hard. I managed to get my hands under his shirt, brushing over his muscles and chest hair with my fingertips. Stiles gently pulled out my hair tie, letting my hair fall to my shoulders. I brought my left hand down and tugged the hem of his shirt up. Apparently, he’d gotten the hint and pulled my hand away before stripping the shirt off. I laid back and looked at how beautiful he was. Just the right amount of toned, but not buff. Just…perfect.

"Like what you see?” He asked with a devilish smile. I laughed and sat up, my hands going to his hair. I started kissing his neck and then moved to his chest, sucking on the skin to leave a few hickeys here and there.

“I am gonna take that as a 'yes'.” Stiles whispered happily. I continued and moved back to his lips. He laid me back on the bed, letting his hands travel under my shirt. He caressed them around my stomach and up to my shoulders. He never touched my breasts, which I thought was courteous of him, but still a little disappointing. He continued kissing me on my neck, moving down to my collar bone. I moaned and closed my eyes, reveling in how Stiles continued moving his hands up and down my torso. In that moment, I could have sworn I heard the door open, but all I could hear was our heavy breathing. So I ignored it. Until I heard a click of a gun being cocked. I opened my eyes to see Dean holding a gun up against Stiles’ temple, His eyes grew wide as he just stared at me, paralyzed in fear.

“GET THE FUCK OFF MY SISTER NOW!” Dean yelled at Stiles. Stiles took his hands out from under my shirt. I sat up and saw Dean still pointing the gun at Stiles. My brother’s face was worn and turned into a scowl. He only looked like that during hunts.

“HURRY UP!” Dean yelled again. Stiles flew off the bed as fast as he could. In his hurried attempt to obey my eldest brother, he ended up tripping over the towel I got for him and falling on the ground.

“DEAN, STOP!” I shouted at him. I got up from the bed and kneeled next to Stiles. “I know you’re not going to shoot him, so just put the gun down” I said, holding my hand out to try and calm him.

“Yeah, I would listen to her.” Stiles said with a shaky voice. I could see in Dean’s eyes that he was pissed and wasn’t going to listen to me. That’s when I decided I needed to call Sam up here.

“Sam! Sam, can you come up here?!” I shouted. I heard Sam holler from downstairs saying he would be up. He walked into the room and saw what was going on, his brow furrowed.

“Whoa, whoa. Dean, put the damn gun down” Sam said as he went and grabbed the gun from Dean’s grip.

“Thank God.” Stiles said as he laid on the ground next to me. I patted Stiles on the shoulder and looked down at him. He closed his eyes and let out a relieved sigh. He opened his eyes and looked up at me, giving me a small smile before he stood up and glared at Dean.

Suddenly, he rushed towards my brothers and shoved Dean. I shot up and while I was shocked by Stiles’ actions, a part inside of me couldn’t help but beam with pride as he stood up to my oldest brother.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Stiles yelled at Dean, shoving him again. Dean was in shock that this skinny kid was able to push and actually move him.

“For starters, ‘Biles’, I don’t like you being in my sisters bed with your hands all over her.” Dean growled, his hand gesturing toward me. “And second: why were you and Scott at the crime scene this morning before the cops got there?” Dean asked suspiciously. I looked over to Stiles with a confused look, seeing the guilt written on his face.

@were-cheetah-stiles

@lovefilledtragedy

@honeystilinski

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amandayuebing · 4 years

Text

My Life is Very Shoujo Manga, Chapter 39: Watching “Fifty Shades of Grey” with my (secret) boyfriend’s ex... on Valentines Day

14 February 2020:

I’ve never been fussed about Valentines Day to begin with, but safe to say... This was ideally not the way I’d be spending Valentine’s Day with Tony: sitting next to his ex in a crowded cinema, watching an after-dinner session of “Fifty Shades of Grey”...

Frank was first to suggest to the group we should go and watch it as a joke, and the idea gained some traction. So I created an event out of it, and a small group of us went to watch it together. It was me, a group of guys, and Tony’s ex-girlfriend...

I don’t know who invited her, but it would have been really awkward to object to her attending. Especially because people might not have known about their quiet break up a couple months ago, which neither party necessarily kept a secret, but neither of them publicised either.

Marianne had started coming around less when they broke up, understandably. Tony would only mention it if someone brought her up. And if not many people knew about their breakup, even few people knew that Tony and I had gotten together. Especially not Marianne.

Especially since she wasn’t particularly fond of me to begin with. We were cordial with each other, but I had a feeling that it was an act for her as much as it was for me. And here we were, sitting side by side, in a dark cinema watching the raunchiest “romantic” film showing on the silver screen that particular night.

By the way, if you’re wondering where Tony was during all this, he couldn’t make it because he was working a shift at Harvest Buffet, at The Star. Probably for the best.

Thank god for Frank, Harry and Jewon to make the atmosphere less awkward. It actually turned into a really enjoyable night!

We left the cinema still in tears from laughing. One of our friends texted us after the movie:

Elle: Oh my god. Were you watching 50 Shades at George Street cinema?

Frank: Yeah! You should have joined us, Elle!

Me: Are you around, Elle?

Elle: No, my parents were also watching 50 Shades tonight and they complained that a bunch of teens at the back of the cinema kept laughing. Did you guys just finish the session?

We howled with laughter. That was us!

We ended up with a few inside jokes from the night, which made Tony very curious but also pleased that I enjoyed myself. I could tell he was relieved nothing had happened between me and Marianne.

After we finished the movie, we had ice-creams from a shop nearby before Marianne suggested we walk to Pyrmont to check out the Lunar New Year Markets. Although everyone was keen (myself included), I couldn’t help but feel curious about the timing... It was already quite late; almost 9.30pm and the markets wrapped up at 10pm.

Do you know who also typically wrapped up just after 10pm on a Saturday? Tony.

We wandered around the markets, and the options that late (as some places had started packing up already) were either alcohol and/or expensive. It wasn’t long before most of the group left, and it was just me and her.

She didn’t look like she had a reason to stay either, but she seemed hesitant to go home. I just wanted her to admit that she was here to see Tony, and I would have left her alone.

I guess she wanted privacy, but I decided to play the waiting game with her, knowing she’d either give up or we’d both not get to see him.

��It’s quite late.” She said to me. “Everyone else has left.”

“Mm, yeah. You’re right. I kind of enjoy the atmosphere right now... It’s a nice summer night,” I breathed in. “It’s pretty peaceful, with most the crowds gone. I’m going to enjoy it a bit longer.”

“I’ll stay with you.” She said firmly.

“Sure, you’re welcome to, if you want. Is it getting too late for you though?”

“Mm.... Just a little longer. But how about you? Isn’t it late for you to be out on your own?”

“It’s not too far from where I live. The trams are well lit, and take me really close to my apartment. I’ll be fine, thanks for worrying.” I told her.

Eventually, she decided to leave. I waved her off, as she got on the tram. It was about 10:15pm, and I knew this was around the time Tony would be leaving, because he’d usually call me after he’d changed out of his uniform and was walking home.

I paced around the casino wondering how he’d react when he saw me, clueless as to where he usually exited. Then I saw him walking past, busy talking to a friend he worked with to notice me about 5 metres away. They both got into the lift down to the trams together. I dashed after them and pressed the lift button for the elevator doors not to close!

The doors re-opened and he looked at me for a brief second in surprise.

Then he flew at me with a big hug.

“What are you doing here?!” His eyes twinkled with delight. He knew it wasn’t like me to do something impulsive, and he really didn’t expect me here right now.

His friend’s jaw dropped as he kept the elevator door open for us.

“Alright, I’ll see you next time!” Tony waved at his friend. “Going to walk home with my girlfriend!”

"Alright, no problems. See you next time,” he nodded at the both of us. Then the elevator doors closed.

Tony looked at me again, with his hands on each side of me, and then he bent down and nuzzled against my face. “Best Valentines Day surprise ever!”

“I didn’t even bring you anything,” I giggled.

“You brought yourself. That’s the only present I need on Valentines Day.”

“You’re the only present I need, too.”

“Nope! With a face that cute, I’m pretty sure you need some ice-cream,” and he marched me over the window at Gelato Messina.

We ordered two scoops to share in a cup. I ordered the salted coconut & mango salsa, and he got one of the specials.

We walked and talked while sharing our ice-creams. I really enjoyed my flavour. I asked what he thought.

“So fruity,” he shuddered. “Mine actually tastes like ice-cream.”

“Well, more for me!” I poked my tongue out at him. “I actually like my flavour better than yours,” I told him truthfully. “The salted coconut is like a dream!” And I scooped a spoonful into my mouth.

“You’re like a dream,” he said, as he kissed me, still with the ice-cream melting in my mouth.

~~~

By the time we got to the front of UTS Library, which was only a few hundred metres away from my apartment, we’d finished our icecreams and were walking linking hands. Then we ran into Frank unexpectedly.

“Hi, guys!” He came up to us. It was already too late to let go of Tony’s hand.

“H-Hi Frank! I thought you’d gone home already.”

“Hey, Frank.” Tony was relaxed. I asked Frank to help keep our little secret for now, that he’d run into us, together, in case it hurt Marianne’s feelings or triggered malicious rumours to spread around the club.

“Sure,” Frank shrugged. “It’s no big deal. But I also think a lot of people kinda know already... Or at least, we all knew it was gonna happen anyway.”

#romance #fifty shades #fifty shades of grey #valentines day #relationships #love #shoujo manga #manga #my life is very shoujo manga #mlvsm

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setepenre-set · 7 years

Text

Love and War (chapter 11)

Strange Magic

Bog/Marianne, T rating

This is a story about two kingdoms, side by side, but worlds apart. And at war.

When the Bog King finally wins his war against the Fairy Kingdom, he decides that a political marriage with the eldest daughter of the deposed Fairy King will help to promote peace.

Obviously, he’s never met Marianne.

AO3 | FFN

There’s a spring in Roland’s step and a smile on his lips as he makes his way through the palace corridor from the barracks to his own room.

His little performance—opening the letter in front of the captains, exclaiming over the contents, and then reading the letter out loud to them—went off perfectly. His captains have all gone back to their troops, to prepare them to mobilize tonight at the ball.

Roland steps into his bedroom and closes the door behind himself with a flourish.

Everything is in place for his plan. All he has left to do is get himself ready to attend the royal wedding.

He looks at his reflection in the mirror and twirls his finger in his hair, making it fall just right over his brow.

Yes. Everything is going perfectly.

It is at this moment that something that seems to be made of teeth and fur and claws and screeching launches itself through his window and lands on his head.

Roland gives a scream of his own, and frantically attempts to remove the creature from his head without getting his face scratched or his nose bitten off. The creature is wickedly fast; it seems to be everywhere at once—in his hair, on his face, climbing down his chest with its little pinprick claws that catch in Roland’s tunic and dig into his skin. In his panic, Roland doesn’t even notice that the creature has snatched the Love Potion from his pocket until the horrible little thing has given a triumphant scream and launched itself off of Roland’s head and onto his dressing table, knocking over bottles of cosmetics and hair creams.

It leaps from there to the top of his desk, its claws leaving scratches in the wood as it runs to the edge.

Roland lunges across the desk after it, grabbing for the creature as it jumps for the open window.

He only just barely manages to get his hands on it, and the move is not at all graceful, sending Roland tumbling to the floor with the shrieking creature. Roland hits his head on the edge of the desk, and his shoulder on the stone floor, and his ankle on the wall, but he keeps a tight hold on the creature.

Roland makes a noise of mingled pain and outrage and climbs to his feet, holding the creature warily at arms length. It still has the—miraculously unbroken—bottle of Love Potion clutched in its paws.

“Give me that!”

The creature does not want to let the bottle go, but Roland, at last, yanks it out of the creature’s paws by main force. It makes a chittering, angry sound at him. and reaches ineffectually for the bottle.

“What are you?” Roland says, “Ow! Stop—biting—horrible little—weird rabbit thing—“

The weird rabbit thing bares its teeth at him and hisses; Roland jerks his head back automatically and the creature narrows its eyes and makes a sound like laughter. Roland glares at it.

“Oh, yeah, real funny, ain’t it?” Roland says in a dangerous tone. He gives the creature a warning shake. “Real funny.”

He looks furiously around his ruined room—bottles smashed, his chair overturned—

There is a crack in his mirror!

“Right,” Roland says decisively. He moves to his trunk in the corner, kicks the lid open. “Let’s see how funny this is to you.”

He shoves the creature into the trunk and slams the lid down quickly, before the thing can escape. It makes a furious sound; Roland hears it scrabbling at the inside of the trunk with its claws. Roland snaps the latch of the trunk lid down, trapping the creature inside.

“Now, isn’t that just hilarious?” Roland says, as the trunk rattles with the force of the creatures attempts to free itself.

Roland turns to look at himself in the mirror, assessing the damage.

No visible scratches on his face or neck, although there are red welts across his hands and arms, and, judging by the way his skin feels, also his chest and back. The armor, at least, will cover those.

His hair, however, is tangled and sticking up in all directions, and nearly all of his personal maintenance and cosmetic bottles have been either spilled or broken. Roland makes a face of disgust as he moves to the washbasin in the corner—there’s no telling what kind of nasty things he might catch from the little beast if he doesn’t wash the scratches and bites.

Even with two assistants, it takes the royal seamstress the better part of an hour to sew Marianne into her dress. Standing still while the violet petals are put into place and pinned and stitched with spidersilk is an incredibly tedious business, made worse by the way Marianne’s stomach is twisting itself into knots.

She remembers her wedding day, when they’d sewn the primrose dress around her, remembers the blazing fury that had burned in her heart, remembers the way her anger had seemed to burn away the fear and the dread.

Marianne wishes she could feel angry now.

Her pixie attendants flutter around her head as the seamstresses work. The pixies chatter brightly with each other in their high, sweet voices as they arrange her hair.

Marianne closes her eyes as they begin their work on her cosmetics.

“There you are, Your Majesty,” she hears the seamstress say at last. “All finished!”

Marianne opens her eyes, looks at her reflection in the mirror.

“Doesn’t she look beautiful?” one of the assistants whispers to the other, who gives a murmur of agreement.

Marianne rather thinks she looks like she’s about to be sick.

“Thank you,” she tells them. “The dress is…lovely. I’m sure you have other ladies to attend to; I won’t keep you.”

They curtsey gratefully and leave swiftly.

Rosa, Violet, and Verda are singing together now, a three-part harmony version of—

—the song Marianne sang with Bog, that day in the Great Hall, and if Marianne hears another note of it, she fears she really will be sick.

“Thank you,” she tells them. “I’ll finish everything else myself.”

They look surprised, but they leave, taking their music with them, leaving Marianne alone with the silence.

She meets the eyes of her reflection and swallows.

Bog’s potion is on her dressing table, hidden amongst the other bottles; she shoved it there quickly after her father left and her attendants came in. Marianne picks it up, now, cradles it in her hands. She closes her eyes, and, swiftly, as though she’s tearing a bandage from a wound, kisses the mark on the bottom of it. Then she slips the bottle into the hidden pocket of her dress—the pocket had been Marianne’s one suggestion for the design of her dress.

Marianne opens her eyes and looks at herself again.

She feels—so terribly vulnerable, and wishes, suddenly, for her sword at her side. But of course Dawn had been adamant that Marianne couldn’t wear her sword with her dress, and for once her little sister actually had practicality on her side; the petals of Marianne’s dress are far to delicate to support the weight of her sword belt, would end up bruised and torn if she wore her sword.

Besides, her sword, and Bog’s, have already been taken to the ballroom, placed there for the sword dance tonight; one of the chambermaids came to her room while the seamstresses were working on Marianne’s dress, and took her sword away.

There’s a little dagger in one of the drawers of her dressing table, though, hidden beneath her brushes and combs. Marianne opens the drawer and gets it out now. It’s a small, delicate thing in a sheath of soft black cloth, the blade light and slender enough and the cloth of the sheath soft enough that when she puts it in the pocket of her dress, along with Bog’s bottle, it doesn’t even pull the petals out of shape.

Marianne sets her lips and looks at herself again.

Her attendants did not get to her jewelry before she sent them away; she takes her jewel case from its drawer in the dressing table, sets it on the tabletop, and opens it.

She takes her crown from her jewel case first, holds it up for a moment, looking at it—the green enamel vines that decorate the gold, the smooth purple stone set in the center of it.

Marianne wore this for the first time at her wedding. Her father had tried to talk her out of wearing it, had said her husband-to-be would consider it a defiance.

That was why Marianne had worn it. She had certainly meant it as a defiance.

She’d been expecting Bog to demand it of her as soon as she met him at the altar, but he had just looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise and so unexpectedly blue.

She’d been expecting him to demand it of her during the wedding banquet as well, while she’d nettled and goaded him, and then she’d expected him to take it that night when he came to her rooms for the first time, but he hadn’t demanded it from her, hadn’t demanded anything of her, has never demanded anything of her, and it isn’t fair that he’s so much kinder and better than she ever expected.

Marianne takes a sharp breath. She needs to stop this. She’s going to start crying if she doesn’t, and her makeup will have to be re-done and her eyes will be red for Dawn’s wedding.

She rubs her thumb over the purple stone in her crown, feeling the smooth shape of it. Will this crown still be hers tomorrow?

Marianne realizes with a hard, painful pulse of her heart that she truly believes it will.

Bog has never taken anything from her. He will not take her queenship. Yesterday, when they flew through his forest together, and they spoke of her childhood plans to ally the Fairy Kingdom with the Dark Forest, he’d seemed truly pleased.

When he divorces her, she will remain queen. Marianne knows this.

She—

—trusts him.

She trusts him.

It’s been so long since Marianne has trusted anyone that the realization knocks the breath from her lungs like a blow to the chest.

She trusts him.

Marianne has to sit down.

Bog, standing in front of the doors to Marianne’s room, raises his hand to knock—and then lowers it. He closes his eyes briefly.

You’re being ridiculous, he tells himself. Putting off knocking isn’t going to do any good.

He’s been standing here for the better part of five minutes; it’s nearly time for the wedding to begin; if he puts this off for much longer, Marianne is going to come out of her room and find him here.

He opens his eyes, raises his hand again, forces himself not to crush the two scrolls of parchment in his other hand, and knocks.

“Come in,” Marianne’s voice says, from the other side of the doors.

Bog swallows, and opens the door, steps inside.

Marianne is seated at her dressing table; she turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind himself.

She looks—

Beautiful. So beautiful.

And pale, beneath her makeup. And unhappy. She smiles at him, but he can see that it’s an effort for her. He frowns.

“Are you all right, Marianne?” he asks, moving towards her.

She smiles at him again, turning back to the mirror as he moves to stand behind her, meeting his eyes in the glass.

“Of course,” she says, “I’m just—a little tired.”

“The walking, yesterday,” Bog says, grimacing at her in the mirror. “I should ha’ noticed you were getting tired earlier.”

“I’m glad you brought me with you,” Marianne says, a little too quickly. “I’m glad you let me come.”

Bog frowns again.

“There’s—it’s not a matter of letting,” he says. “I—should ha’ thought to invite you sooner; of course you’d want t’ see the other half of our kingdom.”

Marianne takes a sharp breath, as if she’s touched a flame and is trying not to show pain. A little, half-arrested motion of her hands brings Bog’s attention down to them, where they rest atop the vanity table. She’s clutching—

It’s Bog’s turn to take a sharp breath as understanding strikes him. She’s clutching her crown; she’d been holding her crown and looking so pale when he walked into her room, and that little quick inhalation just now when he said our kingdom—

She’s been afraid he’s going to take her queendom from her. He’s wondered why she’s never brought the subject of divorce up herself, and of course this explains it. Of course she feared what his reaction would be, if she should divorce him.

Bog puts the two scrolls down gently on the top of the dressing table and sees Marianne flinch, and hates himself for making someone as fierce as Marianne so frightened.

“May I?” he asks gently, covering her hands that rest on her crown lightly with his own.

She nods, her eyes not leaving his in the glass, and lets go of the crown, lets him take it from her. He lifts it up, and, his eyes still on hers in the mirror, places it carefully on her head.

“There,” he says, voice quiet, “now th’ crown’s where it belongs.”

Marianne’s eyes are wide, so wide, in the mirror.

“You wear it well, Marianne,” he says, hands still holding the crown lightly, his eyes still holding hers in the glass. “And I should never wish t’ see this crown elsewhere.”

Marianne takes another of those sharp breaths, her eyes closing, dark lashes sweeping down, and then she reaches up to cover his left hand with her own, tugging it down. She presses his palm quickly to her cheek and then she turns her head and kisses the palm of his hand.

Bog flinches.

To have made her think she had to kiss his hand, to thank him for something that had never been his to give—

“—Marianne,” he says, a catch in his voice, “I’ve brought—”

“I have something for you,” she says, letting go of his hand and ducking her head, bending down to open one of the drawers of her dressing table.

She pulls something out and shuts the drawer, straightens up, pushing back her chair as she turns towards him.

Bog takes an automatic step back, not wanting to crowd her, but Marianne takes a step forward, closing the distance between. them. She reaches up to put one hand on his shoulder, presses the thing in her other hand to his chest.

Marianne, her hands still on his shoulder and his chest, glances up at him, meeting his eyes for a moment that steals his breath.

And then she steps back and turns away.

Bog looks down at the thing she’s placed on his chest. It’s—

“Uh,” he says blankly.

It’s some kind of corsage; a piece of bark with dark purple leaves pinned around it, and a purple verbena flower in the center.

“It’s hideous,” Marianne says, still turned away, “Dawn offered to do it; I should have just let her; I’ve never been any good at—”

“No!” Bog says, and she turns then, looks at him. “No, I—I like it.”

Marianne looks at him for a moment, her eyes wide.

“…thank you,” he says.

They stand there for another moment, both of them very still.

“—ah,” Marianne says.

He sees her swallow, and then she turns away, towards the mirror above her dressing table again, although she does not look up and meet his eyes in the glass.

“There’s—there’s a necklace in the jewel case,” she says, fingertips resting lightly on the top of her dressing table. “Will you help me put it on?”

Bog swallows and steps forward again, stands behind her at the dressing table.

The curve of her neck is achingly beautiful; he wants, so very badly, to stroke his fingers down it, down her spine, down the seductive space between her furled wings. He can see the slightest hint of her skin, where her wings join her back, around the edges of the dress she’s wearing.

She smells like violets, and like herself.

Bog wants to bury his face in her hair, wrap her in his arms, and kiss her neck.

Would she let him? he wonders, with a sick, twisting feeling in his stomach. Would she think that it was the payment he demanded in return for allowing her to keep her crown?

She’d kissed his hand, when he put the crown on his head, and the memory of the press of her lips against his skin makes him want to weep.

Bog looks down at the jewel case.

“Which necklace?” he asks, voice rougher than he’d like.

“The pearl one,” she says.

Bog reaches into the case, carefully sifts through the contents, delicate gold chains and rings and bangles.

“—I dinnae see any pearls,” he says.

Marianne turns, frowning. She reaches for the case and looks inside it. Bog takes a step back, giving her space.

She doesn’t find the necklace she’s looking for, either, just makes a frustrated sound and starts removing pieces of jewelry from the case, setting them atop the dressing table, the movements of her hands becoming increasingly swift and frantic as she does.

Marianne pauses for a moment, then turns to look at him.

“It’s not here,” she says. “I don’t—”

“Would you have put it somewhere else?” Bog asks.

“No,” Marianne says, but she opens the doors of her dressing table, yanks out the drawers, and begins digging through them. “No, I always put it in the case; it’s always in the case—”

She straightens up, turns to him, her eyes a little overbright.

“—that—thing,” she says, “the thing from this morning; it must have—”

“What thing?” Bog asks.

Marianne makes a wild gesture.

“There was this—this thing in my room this morning, like some kind of—weird little creature, I don’t know—Dawn woke me up screaming; it must have taken the necklace; it was trying to take—”

She stops abruptly, swallows, her face going paler. Marianne touches the side of her dress, a gesture that she doesn’t seem to be aware of making.

“—what?” Bog asks, worried now.

Marianne makes a slashing gesture with her hand, shakes her head.

“Nothing. Something. It doesn’t matter.”

“We’ll look for the necklace,” Bog says. “I’ll—”

A knock sounds on the other side of Marianne’s door.

“Marianne!” Dawn’s voice calls from the other side. “Are you ready yet?

Bog and Marianne look at each other for a moment longer. Marianne looks almost stricken.

“—it doesn’t matter,” she says, “Nothing—it doesn’t matter.

She smiles at him, a painful smile, shadows in her eyes.

“Yes, Dawn, we’re ready!” she calls to her sister, and moves towards the door. Bog follows.

Celeste places the Queen and King’s swords on the small table that stands next to the chairs for the orchestra, crossing the blades nicely and placing the little vase of purple flowers just in front of the crossed blades. She shakes her head. Swords! Who ever heard of such a thing at a wedding?

She’d certainly not want swords at her wedding, Celeste thinks, and then spends a few blissful moments picturing it—Roland looking so handsome, smiling at her, and her with a crown of flowers in her hair, laughing as he twirls her in their first dance together as husband and wife.

Celeste sighs happily.

Roland will have so much fun at their wedding; it will be sure to drive away any bad memories of the way the Queen had left him at the altar.

Celeste shakes her head and smooths her hands down her apron. Poor Roland; he’d told her all about the Queen, and the way she’d treated him so dreadfully. Celeste would never hurt him like that.

“Oh!” Celeste hears someone say. “Celeste, won’t you help me with this?”

Celeste turns and sees a very harried looking Angelique bustling over, her arms full of garlands.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Angelique says, shoving garlands into Celeste’s hands. “These were supposed to be put up first thing this morning, only Peter says he forgot—forgot! can you believe it?—and now he’s gone off to help with the cakes and I’m stuck with all of these—help me hang them, won’t you, Celeste?”

Roland looks at himself one last time in his cracked mirror. He gives his reflection a charming smile.

Perfect.

The creature in Roland’s trunk has finally given up trying to free itself, although it’s still making angry chittering noises. Roland ignores it entirely as he walks past it on his way out the door.

It’s time for a royal wedding. And this time, Roland intends to make sure that it goes absolutely perfect for him.

When, at last, the garlands are hung, Angelique gives a deep sigh of relief.

“There’s that done, then,” she says. “The wedding should be starting soon; let’s go out and see if we can find somewhere to watch. They say the Princess Dawn will be wearing a gown made out of blue violets! Oh, I’ll bet she looks divine!”

“I saw Queen Marianne’s gown,” Celeste says.

“Ooh, did you really?”

“It was all purple violets,” Celeste says, “they were sewing it onto her.”

Angelique sighs dreamily.

“Violets,” she says. “It must be so beautiful.”

“…yes,” says Celeste, frowning.

The gown certainly had been beautiful. The Queen had been beautiful, too, standing there as the gown was sewn around her. Absolutely terribly lovely, the deep purple of the violets setting off her skin and dark hair gorgeously.

Celeste touches her own hair self-consciously. Roland says that her hair is the most beautiful he’s ever seen—like spun gold, he says. Still, Celeste feels a twinge of jealousy at the Queen’s glorious dark hair, at her delicate violet dress—a twinge of jealousy and just a tiny pinprick of disquiet.

“—you go on ahead, Angelique,” she says suddenly, “I’ve just realized I—I forgot something—”

Celeste whirls around and races off down the corridor, ignoring Angelique’s protests, heading in the direction of Roland’s rooms.

Dawn chatters happily as they walk down the corridor. Marianne, her arm linked in her sister’s, does not hear a word of it. She’s terribly conscious of Bog, walking on her other side.

She must have been out of her mind. She’d kissed his hand, which had been madness enough, but then when he’d actually thanked her for the hideous corsage she’d painstakingly made for him, she’d—

Marianne swallows.

Dawn kisses her cheek—oh, they've stopped walking—her father is here, taking Dawn's arm, and Dawn is letting go of Marianne.

Her father and Dawn walk down the corridor together; for a moment Marianne stands as still as a statue, looking blindly after them.

"Marianne?"

She turns, her heart in her throat. Bog is beside her, now, looking at her with a worried expression—oh—she’s meant to—

Marianne takes his arm. The sensation of touching him is—

(her hand on the back of his, holding his palm to her cheek, and the feeling of his skin against hers and then she’d turned her head and kissed his palm; she hadn’t been able to stop herself, and he’d flinched and—)

Marianne feels feverish, hot and cold at the same time, as though the entire world has gone distant and muted, as though Bog, beside her, is the only real thing in it.

She’d kissed his hand, and he’d flinched, and she still hadn’t been able to stop herself from turning to show him her back, asking him to help her put on her necklace, the one with the chain that hangs between her wings, desperation making her shameless.

It’s fortunate that little creature stole her necklace; if Bog had put that necklace on her, had trailed his hand down her back to place the chain between her wings, Marianne is absolutely certain that she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from losing her head entirely and begging him to keep touching her, to kiss her, just kiss her, just once.

And she cannot—she cannot do that; she needs to be sensible, needs to control herself.

He doesn’t love you, she thinks at herself viciously. He doesn’t love you.

Up ahead, Dawn laughs. Marianne closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them again, and keeps walking, her hand still on Bog’s arm.

He doesn’t love you.

The corridor is empty when Celeste reaches Roland’s rooms. She stops short just in front of his door, suddenly nervous.

She knows where Roland’s rooms are, of course; she’s slipped notes beneath the door for him from time to time. But she’s never actually been inside them; they always have their trysts in her room. Celeste has asked him to take her here, but…he’s always had some—perfectly good!—reason that they shouldn’t.

Is he—going to be annoyed with her, if she knocks on his door?

She hesitates for a long moment, shifting from one foot to the other—oh, it’s getting so late; what if he’s already gone? So silly, to be standing outside his door when he’s gone!

This last thought gives her the courage to knock on the door.

She waits a moment, but there’s no answer from inside.

“Roland?” she calls. “Are you there?”

Again, no answer.

Celeste turns—Angelique will have found a place by now; hopefully she’ll have saved room for Celeste—

—and then, from the other side of the door, she hears a faint whimper. Celeste turns back to the door.

“Roland?” she calls. “Roland, is that you?”

Again, the pained sound. Celeste’s eyes go wide. Oh no! He must be hurt!

She opens the door and steps inside, looks around—and then blinks.

The room is—

Well, it’s in a terrible state of disarray, for one thing, all broken bottles and overturned furniture; she can well believe that something happened here—was he attacked?

But the room is also empty.

“Hello?” she says, feeling a little nervous. “Is—anyone here?”

There is no answer. Gooseflesh creeps across the skin of Celeste’s arms. She can feel her wings wanting to snap out defensively.

Had she imagined the noise?

Celeste forces a laugh. Of course she must have imagined it! How silly, to be frightened of an empty room.

To prove to herself how very unafraid she is now that she’s come to her senses, she rights the desk chair that has been overturned, puts it back in it’s proper place.

The desk drawer has come slightly open; Celeste goes to close it, but something shiny inside it catches her eye.

Curious, she opens the drawer.

The shiny thing inside is a locket. Celeste pulls it out, looks at it. There’s an inscription on the locket—with all my love, it reads.

A present for her? She opens the locket, wondering if he’s had his picture painted and put inside, and then recoils, dropping the locket back into the drawer in shock.

There’s a portrait inside, certainly, but it isn’t of Roland. Some dark haired girl is smiling from the picture inside the locket.

Has Roland been—oh, surely not—it must be an heirloom or something; maybe the girl in the locket is his mother. Celeste goes to pick it up again, to reassure herself that there has to be a family resemblance. And then she stops, hand hovering in midair over the locket.

The locket is just the start of the contents of the drawer. There are more pieces of jewelry, several locks of hair tied with ribbons, pressed flowers, handkerchiefs, letters—

My darling Roland, Celeste reads from one of the letters, and that is most certainly not her handwriting. My dearest love, she reads from another letter that has different handwriting.

—love, your Mary—

—yours, Elizabeth—

—missing your kisses, Bridget—

Celeste covers her mouth, making a sound somewhere between a sob and a gasp.

How many—why are there—why would he keep all these if he loves only—

The trunk in the corner of the room rattles loudly. Celeste gives a little scream, her wings snapping out as she whirls to face the trunk.

It rattles again.

“Hello?” she says, her voice trembling.

The trunk stops rattling—and then whatever’s inside it makes a whining kind of sound, like something small and defenseless and in pain.

Shaking, Celeste moves cautiously towards the trunk.

“Hello?” she says again. “Are—are you hurt? Do you need help?”

The thing inside the trunk makes a pathetic whimpering noise.

Celeste reaches out to undo the latch.

...to be continued.

Thank you for all of the likes, reblogs, and comments! They always make me so happy!

#strange magic #love and war #bog/marianne #butterfly bog #fanfiction #arranged marriage au

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deliciousnai-blog · 6 years

Text

Chapter 1 Part 1

“Like, I, saiiiiiid!”

Can you not give Samantha some strange idea? You might change this little angel into some rotten devil, you know?

“Hahaha! I’m just kidding. But now I see that your works indeed pretty hard. Is there anybody that you can ask for help?”

“No… they have expectations. And that expectations kill me”

“Did you try to explain?”

“Yeah… I’ve tried but never works. Maybe they didn’t understand what I meant”

If everything can be solved by talks, I would never think to change my past.

“I can’t help but imagine how hard your life will be after being promoted, must be very very hard to the point your face would be grimmer than your now”

“Hahaha, so funny” She just says it out loud what I thought when Marianne and George told about my promotion.

“What should I do now? Set aside the upcoming works because I believe I can get over it in a blink of eyes, my happy daily life is going to be gone! Definitely!!! Marry won’t be there to entertain me, even worse I can’t meet you guys anymore!”

While I’m not aware of it, Maurie and Samantha think same but differently;

Maurie: what a snob, can get over in a blink of eyes, huh? But I take it you can’t live without us, huh? I want to pat his head

Samantha: who’s Marry? Some woman I don’t know? But you can’t live without me? Oh, I want to hug you!!!

“I believe sooner or later you can meet someone who can entertain you” Maurie pats my head.

“You can remember me, no, I’ll come for you if you want some entertainment!” Sammy looks like want to hug me, but she holds back. Her hands hanging in the air like someone trying to catch a bug.

“But I’m not sure if you can come, I’ll work in Rav”

“Rav!!!” The two surprise, well I can’t help it.

“It’s too far, near to capital but it’s very far from here!”

“Nooo don’t leave us!!” Sammy crying a river of tears.

The two hugs me, the three of us crying out loud to the point no more tears come down. I bet everyone in the bar show us as three sisters crying for their dead father. Yeah, sisters, I’m included.

After some chats, I take my leave and says goodbye to everyone in the bar. I really took my time in the bar, I should’ve come to another store to see my old friends… I’ve met Rick, James, and Bart at bar, but I didn’t go to see everyone from church and people in Maja Confetti. Maybe I’ll take some vacation before my promotion, I’ll convince George somehow…

It was before I mount to Janne that I met the person who’ll change my life, for worse or better.

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

“And now, the world record of not being late as a model student has broken! Our idiotic genius first rank student just come late to school, moreover, skip a lesson! Lolololol”

“Shut up you running freak!”

“I am freak, but you are more freak than I am. Lolololol”

I want to hit her!!!! Geez, this is the reason I don’t want to come late: Luna will roast me, definitely!

“All this time I really want to see the teachers to scold you, since you’re such a good student, those teachers never scold you” She continued.

“Nobody’s good these days, I may look like one but I don’t believe perfect model student exists”

“I know, I know you’re pretty bad inside–like many other students, but it’s not fair you’re the only one who’s getting safe”

It’s just as she said, I may look like a model student in teachers’ eyes. But actually, I’m just good at listening and understanding problems… well it’s limited to study though, outside studying I'm just a normal high school student. Except if we’re talking about human interaction: I am very bad at it. It’s not like I can’t read the mood nor like to hit some nerve, I simply have no interest in trends and fashion. My real interest is fantasy stories and high school girls not really talks about fantasy nowadays, as the results: I don’t have many friends. Well, my classmates come to me to ask about lessons and that’s all, nothing else.

Luna was the only person who’s much closer than others, well, she’s easy going and everyone (excepting Dany) likes her. But hey, didn’t I say I don’t believe in perfection? Such a girl won’t talk to me every day without any intention behind it. You may realize it, she uses me as teacher substitute, but there’s something more about Luna that you’ll be surprised. I’ll leave that story for later.

Now, let’s go back to the reason for my lateness.

“Your suggestions really sucks!” I complain.

“I didn’t guarantee it’ll work, that’s what suggestions meant” Wow, this girl has potential to be a lawyer.

“Maybe you start walking my way: The Road of Lazy Bums. I welcome thee, wanderer!”

“My mum will kill me before I take a step on it”

“I can imagine it…” her complexion turns a bit pale.

That’s why I desperately want to solve my problem.

“Well, as your one and only good friend, let this Princess Luna helps you out!”

“I’m not listening”

“This time I guarantee you”

“Once trust is broken, you can’t fix it the way they were before”

“…if I fail, I’ll give you my allowance for a week”

“A month. No less”

“Fine, but if it’s work you must give me the same amount”

“Deals based on money can always be trusted” in money I trust.

“One more thing, the method maybe unbelievable but the person doing it is very professional, you knew about my secret right?”

“Oh, I surprise that you realize that I knew your secret! Is that why you tried to get close to me?”

“Right, keep your voice down or FBI WILL REALIZE IT, OH MY GOD I’M TOO LOUD”

This is one of our lame jokes, don’t take it seriously.

“Okay, let’s meet up after school, tomorrow is Saturday so you’ll be fine to hang out tonight right?”

“You know me so well, babe”

“Of course, honey!”

###

“Where we’re going?”

“To the psychiatrist near my house”

After all that deal it’s a freakin’ psychiatrist?! What’s more, a psychiatrist not a psychologist?!! “Damn you! Deal’s off!”

“Didn’t I say the person is professional? Take a look first, after that, you can cut the deal or whatsoever”

“… you better hold your pocket, I’ll make it empty”

We get into the psychiatrist’s house. It looks like a normal house, in fact, I feel more at home than my own house. I always thought psychiatrist works at some hospital or mental intuitions, but this is clearly different from what I had in mind.

“His name is Panda, he only received 3 clients per day, at most 12 per week. He’s in debt with me so even if he doesn’t want to, he must help me”

Panda… I wonder if his eye bags are thick or maybe his body looks like a panda? But what the heck was that debt? I begin to reconsider accepting Luna’s help.

Come to think of it, we just pass the receptionist and we didn’t register first. Is Luna a regular in this place?

Luna opens the door like a bang. She then shouts “Heyyaaa we got problematic patient here!”

What the… I’ll definitely throw her from a tall building after this.

“L-l-lluna?? Why do you come without notifications?”

I see a man resting on his bed, he immediately wakes up and covers his naked upper body with a blanket. He looks in his mid 20’s with average height and a bit slender body built. He’s pretty attractive with k-pop like face and hairstyle, his complexion isn’t very good but… why his name is ‘Panda’? He’s nothing like a panda! And what’s with that bulk on his bed…?

A hand comes out and a woman raises her head a bit. I thought I saw a ghost but turns out it’s much worse.

“You son of a bitch, you slept with your client again? Are you not a psychiatrist but a pimp instead? I bet your sister won’t let this slide…” Luna picks up her phone.

“No! Not my sister!!!”

Tbh, I want to continue the story in English from this point, but it’s just too long and the Bahasa version still unfinished. So I cut this part and maybe I’ll continue it on February 14th.

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