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starshine583 · 3 years

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New Girl on the Block (23)

(Welp, y’all, this is it. This is the last, pre-written chapter that I have written. From here on out we’re gonna have to rely strictly on my writing consistency and... I’m so sorry for that lol Because CLEARLY, if we’re on the last pre-written chapter, after having posted, like, three over the last month, we know that this isn’t gonna be good. BUT! I do have THIS chapter to give you! So please enjoy! And don’t forget to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)

Ch.1 / Ch.22 / Ch.24 (ao3)

Chapter 23: How the Cards Fall

Marinette stared in horror at her former classmates, violently kicking herself for being so reckless. How could she forget that this was one of Alya and Nino’s favorite food carts too? She used to eat there with them all the time! She should have known better than to pick this place! Actually, she shouldn’t have picked anywhere to eat at all! Going to a place she used to enjoy meant going to a place where she used to hang out with her old friends, which meant eventually running into them, which meant- well - this! Oh, how could she be so stupid?

Maybe it won’t be so bad, she reasoned with herself before she could start hyperventilating. Maybe they’ll just roll their eyes and leave instead of making a scene.

But Alya was never one to back down from a (accidental) challenge. As soon as she realized her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, a scowl etched itself onto her lips, and she started stomping in Marinette’s direction.

“It is you!” The red-head scoffed. “Oh, when I get my hands on you-”

Marinette flinched back, officially throwing breathing out the window. She looked at her current classmates and wondered what they would do if she ran, what they would think. Would they follow her or would they stay and talk with Alya? What if they started asking questions that Marinette couldn’t answer? What if Alya answered the questions before she could? Would they believe her? Was she going to have to find a new school again? What if Lila’s lies followed her there too? What if she never escaped Lila’s claims?

Suddenly, not breathing turned into breathing too fast, but before she could spiral further than gasping, a shadow passed over her.

It was Allan and Claude, coming to stand in front of her as a defense.

“Hey, woah!” Claude said, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “Why don’t you back off a bit and tell us what’s got you so upset?”

A hand touched her shoulder lightly, and Marinette’s gaze snapped to Felix, who was now standing next to her. He met her eyes with a subtle raise of the eyebrows, and she knew what it meant.

“Are you alright?”

Marinette drew in a deep breath to steady herself and nodded, even though her insides felt like they were turning outwards at this point. Felix must have seen through her fib because his hand stayed on her shoulder as he looked back at Alya. His eyebrows were furrowed, which could be from his concern, but Marinette also knew curiosity when she saw it. He wants to know who these people are, and why they’re angry with her. And after everything she’s told him about her old school, he might be able to figure it out.

Alya briefly paused at the boys’ blockade, before raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

“So is this who you’re hiding behind now?” She asked, unimpressed. “Are these the new people you’ve managed to dupe?”

Marinette tensed, and Felix’s grip tightened on her shoulder. Whether that was a sign of support or his disgruntlement, she wasn’t sure.

“Are we supposed to know what that means?” Allegra, who had also come to stand next to Marinette, drawled.

“No.” Alya said. “Not yet, anyway. This one likes to wait until you’re in pretty deep before springing her trap.”

Marinette bit her lip, indignation rising in her chest. She didn’t deserve this. She hasn’t done anything wrong!

“Alya, that’s enough-” She tried to say, but Alya cut her off.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” The red-head snapped. “You don’t get to have a say anymore, not unless you’re willing to admit what you’ve done, what you really are.”

“Alya, come on.” Nino, who finally decided to join the conversation, coaxed. “L-Let’s just go. It’s not worth fighting over.”

Marinette might have been grateful had he not backed down right after when Alya shot him a glare.

“I’m going to assume you guys are her new classmates and friends.” Alya continued. “So let me tell you, as a former classmate and best friend, that this girl,” she pointed her finger accusingly at Marinette, “is a fraud.”

“That’s not true!” Marinette couldn’t help shouting.

Alya ignored her. “She makes herself look sweet and innocent by making you croissants or cookies and bringing you handmade gifts, but it’s all an act. All she really wants is the attention that the gifts bring, and when she doesn’t get it, she goes ballistic. I used to think she was the best thing in the world until a foreign exchange student came along and became more popular. Then she started stealing that person’s homework and ripping it up, or throwing her textbooks in the trash, or even tripping her down flights of stairs. One time we even caught her stealing personal items!”

“I didn’t do any of that!” Marinette insisted, more so to her friends than to Alya. “I told you she framed me!”

Alya scoffed. “You can’t even deny it anymore! Lila has all of the rude texts you’ve sent her, there were multiple witnesses to the tattered homework that was on your desk- myself included -and we all saw her take her family heirloom out of your locker.”

“That wasn’t a family heirloom! She literally bought that in a store two months before and then put it in my locker to frame me!”

Alya rolled her eyes and turned back to Claude and Allan. “Obviously, she’s going to make up whatever excuse she can to keep you from listening to me, but I advise you to dump her now while you can. She’ll make your life a living nightmare if she thinks you’re better than her somehow, though at this point,” Alya shot Marinette another scalding glare, “we all are.”

Tears burned in the corner of Marinette’s eyes, but before she could further argue her innocence, Claude spoke up.

“Ok, so what proof do you have of this?”

It was something she’d expected Felix to ask, honestly, and it left her staring at the brunette in shock. He was.. asking questions. The right questions. He wasn’t taking Alya’s words as gospel the way everyone else at Dupont had done with Lila’s words.

Alya frowned. “I already told you-”

“No, I don’t care about what you’ve said.” Claude interrupted. “You’re a stranger I just met, and Marinette is a good friend that I’ve known for a wonderful month and a half. I’m going to need more than your word.”

Alya narrowed her eyes at him, debating.

“Alright, fine. I’ll bring Lila here as a first hand account. She has the texts saved on her phone. As for the homework and such, those have already been replaced and done away with, but I do have the class president binder where several important forms are missing from Marinette burning them instead of giving them to Lila after leaving.”

Marinette had to bite her tongue to avoid laughing despite herself. Lila said that she burned some of the class papers? What would make her lie about something like that? Was it to get out of the work? Oh, boy, was that going to come back to bite her. She probably had to resign all of the ‘missing’ paperwork! Oh, this is the greatest thing Marinette’s ever heard. Hopefully, she said she lost a lot.

“Do you have the burnt papers?” Allan asked.

“No, of course not-”

“So, let me see if I’ve got this right,” Allegra said, her voice edging on annoyance, “we’re supposed to believe the account of a foreign exchange student, who we also don’t know, and who, apparently, brought out the worst in Marinette by herself even though no one had ever done so before, and the only actual proof you have, other than that girl’s word, is a series of texts that can easily be altered and a binder with some missing pages that ‘Lila’ could have misplaced or even burned herself. Is that correct?”

Alya scoffed. “You’re making it sound ridiculous.”

“No, I’m repeating what you’ve said to us, which is ridiculous.”

“She’s done other things too!” Alya insisted. “Just the other day she met up with one of my other friends and tried to persuade them into her clutches again, even though she had already transferred schools. Look-”

Alya pulled out her phone, and for once, Marinette looked on with interest as well. Lila making up a lie like that meant someone had to be going against her now, right? So who was it? Did someone mention Marinette’s name in an argument, and now Lila’s latching onto that as an advantage?

After a minute of searching, Alya flipped her phone around for them to see her screen, and the picture displayed on it made Marinette’s stomach drop.

“Woah, is that Adrien Agreste?”

The group, aside from Felix, leaned forward to see the picture better, but Marinette found herself leaning back, the blood draining from her features. That was a picture of her and Adrien at the café last Friday, but- but how did- when could they have possibly-

“Where did you get that?” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

Alya fixed her with a smug grin. “Look familiar? Lila took this while you and Adrien were having lunch last week. I’d been wondering why he was asking her so many questions about her stories, but now it all makes sense. You’ve been secretly coaxing him to your side again, and poor Adrien couldn’t resist. Even when I called him about the picture, he said he just wanted to be your friend again. I guess he always did see the best in everyone, though.”

Marinette felt sick to her stomach. How long was Lila with them in that café and Marinette didn’t even know it? How much did she overhear as Marinette blabbered on and on to Adrien about her current life? Did she know about Marinette attending Rosemary? Did she tell Alya about her attending Rosemary? How many people did she send that picture to?

She clutched for Felix’s hand on her shoulder, suddenly not trusting herself to stand, and he quickly put his other hand on top of hers. The comfort of his touch was appreciated, but not enough.

A burst of laughter cut into Marinette’s panic, and she turned to Claude who was all but rolling on the grass. He clutched his sides as he howled and even went as far as to wipe tears from his eyes.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute..” the brunette wheezed. “So you’re telling me, that Adrien Agreste, the fashion icon and heart throb of Paris, was in your class, but Marinette only started acting out after the foreign exchange student showed up? No offense to you, Mari, but I’m pretty sure a rich, young model would have been way more popular. How come she didn’t sabotage him?”

Alya faltered for a moment, not quite expecting the question and certainly not the laughter. “W-Well- I mean- she did have a major crush on him. Maybe she didn’t care that he was more popular than her because she liked him so much.”

Marinette felt her cheeks heat up out of embarrassment, but thankfully, no one touched on that subject. Instead, Allegra hummed and said, “Okay, fine. Assuming that’s true, what made Lila so popular?”

“Plenty of things.” Alya stated matter-of-factly. “She’s helped Prince Ali organize several charities, made petitions to save endangered animal preserves, is best friends with Ladybug-”

Marinette didn’t resist her eye roll.

“-and even saved Jagged stone’s kitten!”

Marinette glanced at Claude, who immediately deadpanned a “what”. She knew that if anyone was going to pick up the last line, it would be him.

“Jagged Stone never owned a kitten.” Claude said. “He’s allergic.”

“It was before he knew he was allergic.”

“He’s still never owned a kitten!” Claude exclaimed with a flail of his arms. “He’s only ever owned a crocodile! That’s been said in multiple interviews!”

“But-”

“And if we want to bring up charities, Prince Ali doesn’t organize any charities. He only donates to them.” Allegra pointed out.

“I-”

“And petitions to protect endangered animal preserves?” Allan echoed. “Those don’t need protection. They are set in stone by law.”

“I’m sure-”

“Look, you’ve clearly been given false information.” Claude said, crossing his arms, “and because you were dumb enough to believe the real attention-seeker, you’ve lost an amazing friend. Now I suggest you leave us alone before I report you to the authorities for harassment.”

Alya’s face twisted with rage. “Harrass- you know what? Whatever. I’ve done my part. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when she starts ruining your life out of jealousy.”

Marinette caught a glimpse of Claude clenching his fists, and Allan put a hand on the brunette’s shoulder to steady him.

“We won’t. Have a nice day.”

Alya huffed and stormed off, dragging Nino with her. He glanced over his shoulder to give Marinette an apologetic look, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and blew out a sigh. That.. could have gone worse.. she supposed.

“Marinette.”

Marinette’s fingers dug into her skin, and she hesitantly looked up at Felix. His hand had loosened on her shoulder, and he was staring at her with an unreadable expression. What was he thinking right now? Was he angry? Disappointed? Confused about why she didn’t tell him about her lunch date with Adrien? She wished he would give her a clue of some kind.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly. “You’re shaking.”

Marinette blinked, pulling her hands away from her body. She was shaking? How did she not notice?

“Oh, and you look so pale!” Allegra cried, wrapping her arms around Marinette’s shoulders. “Should we take you home?”

Marinette grabbed Allegra’s arm and forced a small smile as she shook her head. “No, no, I’m.. I..”

She wanted to say that she was fine, that they could continue having lunch as usual, but a lump in her throat made it hard to get the words out. Next thing she knew, tears were spilling down her cheeks, and she was putting her hand over her mouth to choke down a sob.

All this time.. All this time she’d been keeping her past a secret from them, scared that they might take Lila’s side like everyone else, yet here they were, holding her close and offering her hushed condolences. They were giving her the very support she’d been afraid of losing, and now she was ashamed that she’d ever been afraid at all.

“I’m so sorry!” She nearly sobbed.

Allegra pulled her closer. “No, don’t say that! There’s nothing you need to be apologizing for!”

Claude and Allan rushed to wrap their arms around her as well, and Felix slid his hand down to rub her back. This, of course, only made her cry harder, because they were being so gentle with her, so kind. How could she have ever doubted them?

“Why don’t we go back to the house?” Claude suggested gently. “Mom and Dad won’t be back yet so we can give you a minute to recover.”

“And Felix makes the best honeysuckle tea.” Allegra adds. “It’ll cure any pain those idiots caused.”

Marinette sniffed and gave a little nod. People were starting to stare at them anyway, and at this point, she’d lost her appetite.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, whatever you need.” Allegra said as she led Marinette back to the car.

Marinette took the handkerchief Felix offered her and dried some of her tears, then gave him a small, grateful smile. He hadn’t spoken much during the altercation, but the way he quietly hovered around her and held her hand when she needed it said enough, especially since she knew he didn’t appreciate being touched.

It’s funny. Whenever she used to think about them finding out about Lila- because, surely, it would have to happen eventually -she always assumed she would feel anxious or paranoid afterwards. “What if they didn’t believe her? What if they constantly doubted her actions now? What if she constantly doubted their actions? Would they ever be able to trust each other fully again?” But as she got into the limo and sat down, and everyone crowded around her to show their love and support over the awful things Lila had said, all Marinette felt was safe.

~~~~~~

Felix leaned his back against the peppered countertop and crossed his arms, his finger tapping against his bicep with impatience. The iron tea kettle sat on the stove next to him, slowly heating and steeping the honeysuckle tea that he’d been requested to make. Usually, it took no time at all for the kettle to whistle, but today, it felt like he’d been standing there for an eternity.

He glanced at the digital clock on the microwave to see how long he’d been waiting, and the numbers 12:45 blinked across it.

12:45pm.. That meant he’d been in the kitchen for about..

Two minutes.

Felix sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze sliding to the kitchen doorway. Marinette was sitting in the living room with the others just outside of it, with her and Allegra on one three-cushioned-couch, and Claude and Allan on the other one across from them. She seemed to be having a decent time, chatting and laughing with everyone, but that didn’t ease Felix’s mind any, not after what he saw in the park.

He’ll admit to being curious when the fight first started. Rosemary is known for its hair-pulling, arm-biting brawls, but they’re also known to remain dignified despite them. For example, the brawls are almost always private, which is why, when someone called out to Marinette in such a harsh and open manner, Felix couldn’t help being intrigued.

When he saw how Marinette reacted, however, his stance on the situation dramatically changed.

In the month and a half that he’s known her, Marinette has faced down high-class celebrities, an overwhelming amount of clothing requests from Claude, and an actual akuma, and not once has Felix seen her so much as flinch. Not until today, that is, when that red-head somehow shook her to her core. Just the sight of her sent Marinette into hysterics, crying, shaking, her face becoming white as a sheet- he’s quite certain she almost hyperventilated at some point too. This strong girl that he’d grown to admire, that he was starting to believe could face anything unscathed, had crumbled to pieces in mere seconds, and it honestly frightened him. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to help. So he simply grabbed her shoulder, hoping she would understand what he was trying to say- that he was there for her, and was she alright?

She understood him, thankfully, and her shoulders started to loosen a bit under his gaze.

But then that red-head started talking.

She spat out the most ridiculous accusations Felix had ever heard, accusations stating that Marinette was a liar and a fake, that she only ever did things for attention. Even if the part about wanting attention was true- which it wasn’t -why would it matter? She does incredible things simply because people ask her to. Why shouldn’t she get any attention for it?

As annoying as the last claim was, though, it wasn’t nearly as infuriating as the rest of the things that girl said. She told them she was Marinette’s former best friend, yet she cast the ravenette aside at the drop of a hat simply because an exchange student with a rusted silver tongue told her to do so. Honestly, who would be dumb enough to believe that some foreign student was best friends with one of the Parisian superheroes? Or that a highschooler actually got to organize charity events? The most she would be able to do at her age was greet people as they walked inside.

Felix wasn’t even going to think about the Jagged Stone claim, since Claude already made it quite clear that that was another lie, but really, who goes into a new school spreading the most impossibly grand lies they can? More importantly, how did those lies manage to stick? Was everyone at Dupont a complete moron?

No.. No, that wasn’t it. No one was that stupid, surely. They all probably wanted to believe Lila. That’s why they pounced on Marinette the way they did. They were looking for an excuse to go after her the entire time.

Felix clenched his fist and turned to the kettle again, watching the steam rise from the spout. It’s no wonder she became so worried when saw Adrien Agreste at Rosemary. After her crush on him and the lies, Felix wouldn’t want to see his former classmates either.

...Speaking of Agreste, what was that picture about? Felix doubted Marinette was trying to ‘persuade him to her side’ as that red-head had said, but her reaction to it was extremely strong nonetheless. Why were they in a café together? It sounded like she met up with him only last week, but she’d told Felix a couple weeks ago that she didn’t want to see him. Why would she put herself through that? And why did she grip his hand so hard when she saw the picture?

The shrill whistle of the tea kettle broke into his thoughts, and Felix jumped to move it off of the burner. Once it was set aside properly, he turned the stove off and began setting out the mugs to fill them. They weren’t as delicate or pristine as the tea sets his father owned, but they would do nicely for the time being. Besides, if Marinette had a one-of-a-kind glass teacup, she might fret about breaking it instead of enjoying the tea.

Felix filled the mugs and put them on a tray, along with some sugars, milk, and honey, then picked up the tray to bring it into the living room. A round of delighted cheers filled the room as he entered, and Claude eagerly bounced up from the couch to grab his mug. Felix moved the tray out of his reach, though, not wanting to offset the balance and spill everything.

“Sorry it took so long.” Felix said as he set the tray on the table. “The tea is fresh so I brought in ice cubes to cool it off if you want them. If not, make sure to blow on it before drinking or you’ll burn your tongue.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know the drill.” Claude remarked as he reached for his mug again.

Felix rolled his eyes. “That was for Marinette’s benefit, not yours.”

“I’m sure Mari knows how to drink hot tea.” Claude retorted.

“But I appreciate the advice anyway.” Marinette spoke up with a smile.

Felix glanced at her as he handed her a pink mug, trying not to look at the puffed up red spots under her eyes. Her tears had long since disappeared, but the remnants of them still remained, including the trails on her cheeks that the tears had run down.

“You’re going to love this, Marinette.” Allegra chirped, thankfully taking the girl’s focus. “This tea literally tastes like honey. I doubt you’ll even need any sugar!”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna.” Claude smirked, already shoveling a spoonful of sugar into his tea. “Unsweet tea was never my style.”

“I swear you are gonna die from diabetes one day.” Allan muttered while taking a sip of his tea.

“And it will totally be worth it.” Claude replied.

Marinette and the others laughed, which helped Felix relax a tad as he sat next to Allan. If Marinette was laughing again, maybe that meant she was feeling better.

The ravenette’s lips hovered over the mug for a solid minute as she blew on the pale, celadon liquid, and when she finally decided to take a drink, Felix found himself staring. Did she like it? Was it too strong? Should he go make something else for her?

“Oh, this is amazing!” Marinette gasped, her eyes lighting up.

Felix smiled, relieved. “I’m glad you think so. I like to add a few drops of honey and a sprinkle of sugar every now and then because it brings out the flavor, but that’s just a personal preference.”

“The tea is incredible already, but I’ll try your style anyway.” She said, reaching for the sugar. Claude pushed it towards her, while Allegra gave her the honey, and once Marinette dumped the extra ingredients into her mug, she took a spoon from a tray to stir them.

She took another sip of the tea, and this time, she sank into the couch with a contented sigh.

“Wow. That is so good, especially with how warm it is! I feel like I’ve just been wrapped up in the most comfortable blanket ever.”

The trio shared a laugh, and Marinette sat up with another giggle herself, but to Felix’s disappointment, the smiles didn’t last.

Marinette set her mug on her lap and let out a sigh, a bashful smile replacing her giddy one. She kept her gaze on her cup as she said, “So, I guess… I should explain myself?”

The group exchanged glances, and Allegra frowned.

“What’s there to explain?” Allan was the first to ask.

Marinette looked up. “Well- Y-You know.. The reasons why Alya was so angry with me. How everything happened at my old school.”

“Again, what’s there to explain?” Claude said. “It’s obvious what happened. This ‘Lila’ person spread rumors about you around the school, and for some reason, your classmates were dumb enough to believe it. End of story.”

For once, Felix agreed with him.

“.. Not quite.” Marinette admitted, causing Felix to furrow his eyebrows. How much more to the story could there possibly be? Don’t tell him it got worse.

“I’d like to tell my side of the story, if you guys don’t mind.”

Allegra offered her a reassuring smile. “Of course not, but you don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah.” Allan agreed. “Your word is all we need.”

A grateful smile caught the corners of Marinette’s lips. “Thank you, but I want to do this. I’ll feel a lot better once you guys know the full truth.”

“Then we’re all ears.” Felix said, sincerely.

Marinette’s smile widened slightly as she glanced at him, but her expression fell serious again when she began her story.

“It started almost two years ago. The September before last, a girl named Lila joined our school- er -my old school, Dupont. She came in telling all of these different stories about meeting celebrities and arranging charity events or music concerts and being ‘best friends’ with Ladybug.”

The sheer disgust in her voice when she mentioned being best friends with Ladybug made Felix smirk, but he let her continue.

“With stories as crazy as that, I couldn’t believe that my fr- uh.. That my classmates were actually believing her. In one day, she had them following her around like dogs and carrying her stuff because she claimed to have hurt her wrist in an accident. I forget which excuse she used, but it ticked me off to no end. So I tried to tell everyone that she was lying.”

“It.. didn’t end well, unfortunately. She turned into an akuma and went on a rampage, and after Ladybug and Chat Noir fixed everything, she only gained more sympathy from everybody. That’s when the stories about me started.”

“Every time I tried to expose her, she would make up some elaborate lie that made me the bad guy, and everyone swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. I tried to tell the teachers about what was happening, and some of them helped keep us separated during class time. But other than that, I was kind of just.. left to handle it by myself.”

Felix held back a scoff. Typical. Teachers never bothered entering student squabbles if they thought it wasn’t law-suit worthy.

“Of course, since the teachers weren’t doing anything, the lies only got worse, and soon, Lila started lying about me unprovoked. She would say I stole her things or ripped up her homework or tripped her down the stairs. I almost got expelled over it twice.”

“Wait, seriously?” Claude said before Felix could actually scoff. “So you told the teacher that this ‘Lila’ was spreading lies around the school, but they still tried to expel you over the things she said?”

Marinette nodded. “They would have to if she hadn’t come back and made up some lies about having been mistaken. I’m still not sure why she did that.”

Felix shook his head, absolutely incredulous to what he was hearing. It appeared the students weren’t the only morons in that school. How has it stayed funded for this long?

“Maybe it was a power play.” Allan muttered with a frown. “She sounds like the type of person who would do that.”

Marinette shrugged. “Yeah, I guess she is.”

“Didn’t anyone believe you?” Allegra asked.

A wince overcame the ravenette’s features, and Felix reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say about that question.

“Yes, someone did,” Marinette admitted, “but he wasn’t very helpful, to be honest. Actually, he tried to get me to stop going against Lila in case she got akumatized again. His reasoning was that her lies would eventually be found out on their own, but.. as you know.. They never were.”

Claude scoffed and put a hand to his chest, seeming to be offended by the very notion. “Are you for real? He just wanted you to let it go?”

“Did he even say anything while you were in the process of being expelled?” Allan asked.

Marinette’s face said plenty, but she answered aloud anyway. “No, not that I know of. He never liked getting in the middle of confrontations.”

Now it was Felix’s turn to scoff. He tipped his drink up to his lips, downing half the mug to avoid interrupting her story further. Felix scoffed, taking a sip of his tea to avoid interrupting her story further. Did no one want to stand up for Marinette? Did no one in that forsaken school have any sense of loyalty or gratitude? That dumb redhead at the park even admitted that Marinette had done numerous things for them as favors. How can they look at themselves in the mirror each morning when they treat people so horribly?

“So what happened after you almost got expelled?” Allegra prompted.

“Well, if you’re asking me what changed, then nothing, really.” Marinette replied. “Lila continued to lie, and I continued to take the fall for it, except now people were actually doing things to me. Before, they only talked about me behind my back or glared at me from the front, but after another one of Lila’s crying fits, they started ripping up my homework, stealing my things. I guess they thought they were playing the act of karma when they did it.”

“And I assume that guy who believed you stayed quiet the whole time?” Claude asked bitterly.

Marinette shrugged. “Basically. He tried to speak up on my behalf a few times, but he was always shut down too fast for it to matter.”

“Eventually, it got so bad that everyone started tripping me too, or running into me on purpose in the hallway. The last straw was when someone tripped down the front steps of the school, and I almost stumbled into a passing car. I was lucky I didn’t get hit.”

Felix’s grip tightened on his cup, and he thanked whatever was watching over her that day while simultaneously cursing the idiots she’d been forced to interact with. Did they even realize what they were doing? Or did they simply not care about almost murdering another classmate?

“Oh my gosh.” Allegra gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

“That’s insane.” Allan said.

“Were they even sorry?!” Claude demanded, outraged. “Did they even look ashamed when you almost got hit?”

Marinette took another drink of her tea and shook her head. “No. My Maman tried to talk to the school about it, but since nothing actually happened besides me getting pushed, they could only offer her detention slips or suspension.”

She paused to look up at Felix, surprising him.

“That’s why I decided to transfer to Rosemary.” She said, and in that moment, it felt as though everything she had ever told him clicked into place. The reason the akuma attacks all seemed minor to her, why she never mentioned her old school, her becoming pale when Agreste first came around to Rosemary- it all made sense now, like he’d taken a million separate puzzle pieces and connected them to form a single picture.

Felix thought he would be pleased, that he would feel triumphant upon solving this brain teaser known as Marinette, but he didn’t feel pleased at all. Instead he felt.. Sympathy. And fury. This girl was not some puzzle for him to mess around with. She was a person, a friend, his friend, and to hear her be treated in such a way made his blood boil.

“We’re glad you did.” Allegra commented.

“Yeah, you’re clearly much better off here.” Claude agreed. “Those jerks don’t know what they lost.”

“So you guys aren’t.. Ya know.. mad at me or anything?”

“Mad at you?” Allan frowned. “Why would we be mad at you?”

“Well,” Marinette thumbed her mug for a moment, “I did kind of keep this a secret from all of you on purpose. I just didn’t want to drag my old problems to my new school. That and.. I didn’t want to risk you not believing me.. I’m sorry I didn’t have more faith in you guys.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Allegra said. “You went through something terrible. We don’t blame you for not wanting to bring it up again.”

“Besides, you transferred schools to escape from the rumors, right?” It only makes sense that you wouldn’t tell us about them when you got here.” Allan pointed out.

Felix nodded in agreement, and Marinette let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s good to hear. Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Of course.” Claude smiled. “You’re our friend, Marinette. A few dumb rumors would never drive us away. If it did, we wouldn’t even be friends with each other by now.”

Marinette gave him a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, we’ve all been lied about at some point.” The brunette stated nonchalantly. “I mean, we go to Rosemary, a school filled to the brim with rich, talented, and extremely spoiled kids who have nothing better to do than gossip about each other. I get accused of cheating at least once a semester. Allegra had rumors about her bribing the dance teacher when she was chosen for a leading role one year, and Felix has been rumored to actually not be rich at all.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but an incredulous laugh left Marinette’s lips.

“What?”

Allan snorted. “Oh, that one was pretty funny. Some people still think he actually lives in the school.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Cause he wouldn’t invite people over to his house.” Allegra said with a wry smile. “And he practically wears the same outfit everyday.

Marinette hummed, looking Felix up and down. “They make a good point.. Felix, is there something you’d like to confess to?”

Felix gave a playful scoff, and the group laughed at his reaction.

“See?” Claude asked. “Your rumors were definitely worse than ours, but we’re not inexperienced. People will always try to bring you down in the lamest way possible.”

Marinette chuckled. “Yeah.. I guess they will. Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime.” Allegra smiled, pulling Marinette into a small hug.

“We’re always here for you.” Allan added sincerely.

Marinette smiled as well. “I know.”

“And if any of those jerks come around you again, you just let us know,” Claude said, punching his fist into his palm, “especially if it’s that guy who tried to tell you to ‘ignore’ Lila.”

A nervous laugh came from Marinette, and she reached up to mess with her pigtails as she said, “I appreciate that.”

Felix, satisfied with how the conversation ended, tilted his cup up to his lips, only to realize it was empty. He pulled his cup down and scanned the table, noting that Allegra and Claude’s cups were empty as well.

“Why don’t I get us some more tea?” He offered, moving to grab the tray.

“Oh!” Marinette perked up, quickly downing the rest of her tea in one gulp. “I’ll come too.”

Felix blinked. “Uh.. that’s not necessary. I can carry it all in one sitting. If you’d rather sit-”

“No, it’s alright.” She said, standing up to take Claude’s cup from him. “I want to stretch my legs anyway.”

The trio exchanged glances again, but Felix was too busy eyeing Marinette to notice. ‘Stretch her legs’? She’s only been sitting for- what? Thirty minutes? Forty-five? How restless could her legs be?

“We’ll wait in here.” Allegra remarked, referring to herself and the other boys.

Felix nodded and picked up the tray, not bothering to argue with Marinette. If she wanted to walk with him into the kitchen, she certainly had the right to do so. And who knows? Maybe she wanted a moment to herself and didn’t know how to tell them.

They strode into the kitchen together, and Felix set the tray on the counter while Marinette handed him her mugs.

“Thank you for helping me. You know you didn’t need to.” He said as he refilled the mugs.

“I know,” Marinette said, leaning against the counter while she waited, “but I actually wanted to speak with you privately, so this works for me.”

Felix raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She wanted to speak with him privately?

“What did you need?”

Marinette glanced up at him, then seemed to think better of it as her gaze flicked back down to the ground. “I wanted to apologize to you too.. You remember last week when you asked me if something was wrong and I told you I didn’t want to talk about it? Well, the reason I was upset was because Adrien came to the bakery that day and begged me to speak with him. I didn’t really feel comfortable with it, but I felt guilty not giving him a second chance when he seemed so sorry about how he’d acted with Lila. So I agreed to have lunch with him after the Valentine’s Day party, which was where I ran off to while you guys were cleaning up. I guess Lila took a picture of us there, and I didn’t realize it..”

Felix frowned. Her reasons for visiting Agreste again were troubling to hear, but..

“Why do you need to apologize to me?”

Marinette’s gaze snapped to his again, her eyes wide with surprise. “Because I didn’t tell you. I knew after everything you’d heard about him that you wouldn’t want me going to see him, but instead of hearing your opinion, I just didn’t say anything. I should have talked to you about it. Maybe then Lila wouldn’t have found me and taken the picture..”

Felix stared at her for a moment, astounded by her logic. She thought she had to ask him before going to see Adrien? Sure, Felix would have advised against it immediately, but that didn’t mean she had to ask his permission.

“Marinette, you don’t owe me anything.” He told her. “Your life is your life. If you want to go have lunch with Adrien Agreste, that’s your decision. And while I would have advised against it, I still would have supported your decision nonetheless. I am your friend, not your boss or guardian. Do you understand?”

Marinette nodded, a grateful smile crossing her lips. He was happy to see it.

“More importantly, you don’t owe Agreste anything either. Just because he finally wisened up to his mistakes doesn’t mean you have to give him a second chance, especially if you don’t feel comfortable doing so.”

Felix paused, thinking over what he’d just said.

“Although, I am curious.. What did he apologize for? He wasn’t one of the people who assaulted you, was he?”

“Oh, no, no.” Marinette hastily answered. “He, uhm.. He was actually the one who didn’t believe Lila.”

Felix tensed, using all of his self-discipline to avoid screaming ‘Are you kidding me?!’. Because really, out of all the people that had to convince Marinette to let Lila go, why did it have to be him? Actually, now that he thought about it, of course it was him! Who else would Marinette have been willing to listen to? Who else would have had the gall, the audacity, to act as though enabling a spoiled brat was some noble sacrifice? Wow, that guy just managed to keep climbing up the ranks on Felix’s ‘most hated’ list, didn’t he?

“I see.” Felix managed to mumble. “Are you going to tell the others?”

Marinette bit her lip, which was most likely a ‘no’.

“Not yet-” bingo “-I don’t want him getting a bad reputation. He did apologize, after all.”

Felix drew in a deep breath, letting the frustration towards that answer melt out of him. This was Marinette’s decision. She has trusted him with it, and he is going to respect it, no matter how much he hates it. That’s why he simply heaved a heavy sigh and put a hand on her shoulder as he said, “Marinette, you are truly too kind for this world.”

A blush bloomed across her cheeks, and she let out a small laugh. “O-Oh.. thanks.”

Felix turned back to the tray and picked it up, offering her a polite smile as he did. He didn’t agree with her method of handling things, but he did trust her to know what she was doing. Marinette was Marinette, after all, and she was much more capable than he was in most areas. If she thought this was the best way to go, he wouldn’t dispute it.

“So,” he began as he gestured for her to start moving towards the living room, “if I just put sugar in Claude’s mug instead of tea, do you think he would know the difference?”

Marinette snorted. “Oh~, that’s a tough one. Maybe we should test it to find out.”

“Alright, but you have to give him the cup. If I do, he’ll assume I’ve poisoned it.”

Marinette giggled and walked into the living room, and Felix followed behind her with a smile. He knew he couldn’t march up to the Agreste mansion and rip Adrien apart like he preferred- he probably couldn’t get any revenge on him whatsoever -but Felix would be darned if he just let this go the way Marinette wanted him to. Actions such as this needed to be punished, not forgiven and forgotten because of some half-hearted apology. If she wanted to toss the whole ordeal over her shoulder, that was fine, but Felix was going to hold a grudge against Dupont that was strong enough for the both of them.

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(Devotion: Alright guys! We’ve talked about the message of God’s wonderful salvation- which you should totally go back and read if you haven’t accepted Christ as your savior. It’s extremely important. -we’ve talked about how the Bible says people will react to the word of God, which has been proven to be true time and again; We have talked about Hell and why it exists; and in the last message, we talked about God’s compassion and faithfulness to His people. The last devotion wasn’t exactly in line with the others as far as the salvation theme, but today’s devotion will be! We’re going to talk about Jesus Christ and what exactly He went through on the cross to become the perfect sacrifice for our sins. This one’s probably going to be a bit long, and it is going to be gruesome. So what I’m going to do is bolden the main points of what He went through, then I’m going to describe them in detail. That way, people who can’t stomach gore or painful descriptions can still see a semblance of what He did, and people who can stomach it will get to understand the full extent of which Jesus loves us. Alright? Everyone got it? Great! Let’s get going then!

We start in the garden of Gethsemane. Jesus comes here only a few hours or less before He is arrested to be tried for crucifixion. He knows He is about to be arrested; He knows that this is the only way to save us from our sins, but that doesn’t stop Him from crying out to God and begging Him for a last way out. He says, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt”, and the Bible says that He was under so much stress during this prayer, He actually began sweating drops of blood. Blood! More so, the Bible also tells us that Jesus had to have an actual angel fly down and keep His heart from rupturing, lest He die prematurely. That means that Jesus was so stressed He almost died before He could even be crucified! Jesus was scared! He was terrified of going through with what God was asking of Him, and wouldn’t we all be! Nobody likes pain, and Jesus was about to go through one of the greatest pains we could ever face. Not only that, there were going to be a few other add-ons to the physical pain He was about to receive.

See, Jesus is supposed to be the perfect lamb, the perfect sacrifice to atone for all of our sins, but to do that, Jesus not only needs to be punished for the sins we have committed, He also has to become the thing He’s being punished for. You cannot punish something that is innocent. It would be unjust. Jesus is aware of this, and that’s another reason He’s as stressed as He is in this moment of prayer. Although Jesus is manifested in human form at the moment, He is still very much God and part of the Holy Trinity, and as such, He still hates sin with a burning passion. He is disgusted by the very thought of it, the very idea. So imagine His dismay when He figures out that He has to become sin! That it has to be woven and meshed into His entire being! That would be like, for me, looking at all of the disgusting food water that’s in the sink before doing dishes and having to bathe myself in it without soap. (even bathing in it with soap would be bad, but you know) And for you guys! Think of the most disgusting thing on earth and then imagine being drench in it! Having it smeared on your skin and shoved in your mouth and caked all over your body- That’s what becoming our sin was going to be like for Jesus, and He hated every bit of it!...

But He loved us. So He went on with it anyway, the pain of crucifixion and the atrocity of becoming all of the sins of the world at once.

As soon as He was done with prayer, Judas- one of the former twelve disciples -betrayed Jesus and handed Him over to the chief priests as well as a crowd of people and soldiers. Jesus went willingly with them and did not fight. In fact, when Peter- another one of the twelve -leapt forward to protect Him by cutting off one of the High Priest’s ears, Jesus actually rebuked him and proceeded to put the High Priest’s ear back on his head. He was healing one of the very people who were about to kill Him! And the disciples were so confused and so panicked by this mob and Jesus’ “strange” behavior, that they all fled. Every single one of them. (This was done to fulfill scripture, so we shouldn’t judge them too harshly, but it is extremely sad for Jesus’ case.)

So the High Priests take Jesus away to Caiaphas, another High priest, and they put Him on trial. The High Priests and Elders tried to put false witnesses up on the stand, but none of their stories were adding up. They couldn’t share the same details that the other was, and almost no two stories were the same. Therefore, the High Priests got frustrated and started taunting Jesus directly, saying, “Answerest thou nothing? What is it which these witness against thee?” But Jesus refused to say anything. He just sat there, silent. This angered the High Priest, so he finally just yelled at Him- or at least, I imagine he yelled -and said, “I adjure thee by the name of the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God.” And here, we have one of the instances that Jesus openly admits, plain and blunt, that He is the Christ. He tells the High Priest that He is the Son of God, and that after this, He will be sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of Heaven.

The High Priest rents his clothes (which means to tear them. It used to be a sign of grieving) and says that Jesus has committed blasphemy, and unfortunately, the rest of the council agree and sentence Him to death. This is where the beginning of the crucifixion process begins. They still had to get a governor’s approval for the death sentence, but that didn’t stop them from taking Jesus and blindfolding Him and beating him while He was blindfolded. They would laugh and spit in His face during this and taunt Him, saying “Prophesy unto us, though Christ, who is he that smote thee?” It was an incredibly humiliating experience for our Lord to go through, but it was about to get much much worse.

The next morning, they take Jesus to Pontius Pilate, a governor, and demand that Jesus be crucified. Pilate, I would assume, reviews the case, because we see him ask Jesus if He is the King of the Jews a few verses later. Jesus simply answers with a “thou sayest” then refuses to speak again for the rest of the time. Despite that, though, Pilate knew the people were only delivering Jesus there because they were jealous of Him. So he gave the angry mob a choice: “Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?”

so understand this choice, it is important to know that there was a certain feast going on at that time, and at the feast, Pontius likes to release a prisoner of the people’s choice. Barabbas was a current prisoner, known for being a murderer and a thief, and I’m sure Pilate was hoping that by presenting a very unjust man compared to Jesus for release, the people would concede and choose Jesus to release. That’s not what happened, though. The people were so angry and so swayed by the High Priest’s influence that they decided to let the thief and murderer loose, as opposed to a completely innocent man. Pontius Pilate is flabbergasted and asks them, “What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ?”

The response was.. unanimous.

“Let him be crucified.”

“Why? What evil hath he done?” Pilate persisted, but the people only cried out louder for Jesus to be crucified. So Pilate, seeing that he couldn’t change their minds, washed his hands in a bowl of water and said, “I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it.”

Thus, Jesus was sent off to be Scourged, the first part of the crucifixion process. Scourging is a devious, calculated type of torture that uses a cat of nine tails to rip the flesh off of its victims. A cat of nine tails is basically a leather handle that has nine different whips attached to the same end, and on the end of those whips were hooks created from shattered glass or twisted metal or any other kind of sharp thing you can think of. The romans would throw the whip across their victim’s skin, and the jagged pieces laced into the whip would latch onto the skin. Then, the Romans would yank across the whip, causing the jagged pieces to tear through the flesh. The pain that would come from that is excruciating, and during this scourging, Jesus was stripped of his garments and whipped with a cat of nine tails thirty nine times. To put that in perspective, it takes 40 times of being whipped with that thing to be killed. This means that Jesus was whipped to the point of near death. His skin is in tatters. There is blood all over his skin. His teeth have probably cracked from having to grit them so much, and Jesus is in pain. He’s in so much pain already.

But it’s not over yet.

The next thing the Romans decide to do is place a purple garment around him, and weave a crowd of thorns together. These aren’t just regular thorns, either. These thorns are about two inches long and pointed, and by the time the Romans got a thick circle of thorns together, I’d imagine you could hardly hold it in your hands without getting hurt. They took those thorns and pushed all 70 or so of them into Jesus’ skull. THEN they grabbed a rod and beat the thorns into His head!! The thorns punctured Jesus’ head so deeply, that the thorns actually touched his skull, curved from hitting it, then poked back out of His skin somewhere else. The way the Romans put this crown on His head, Jesus physically couldn’t take it off. And after all of that, the Romans bowed down in front of Jesus and mocked Him again, saying, “Hail! King of the Jews!” and beat Him with their bare hands, even though they had already whipped Him to the point of near death.

Pilate took Jesus to the Jews and again begged them to reconsider and let Jesus go, but the Jews refused to do so. They screamed for Jesus’ death all the more, so Pilate reluctantly gave it to them. This leads us to the beginning of the end, when they make Jesus carry His own cross. Part of the crucifixion was having the crucified carry their own cross to Golgotha, or Skull. It was kind of like an extra burden and humiliation attempt, and it worked well. Think of it like a murderer being forced to make his own death shot and give it to the nurses who were going to insert it in him. Jesus had to walk through the city, or at least on some sort of road, where crowds of people were lined up on both sides, all of them cheering for His death, and He had to do this while He could barely stand up straight. The Bible tells us that, because of His injuries, Jesus actually didn’t get to carry His cross all the way to Golgotha. He collapsed somewhere along the way, and a man named Simon had to help Him carry it the rest of the way, but sadly, they did get it there.

Once Jesus and the cross were on the mount, the Romans laid the cross down, laid Jesus on the cross, and used these huge nails to nail Jesus’ hands and feet to the cross. This was done through careful puncture wounds between the wrist bones and foot bones. It kept Jesus in place, while aggravating his nerves to make his feet and hands go crazy with pain. The Romans then raised the cross up for all to see, and for the next six hours Jesus hung on that cross. Something to note about this is that Jesus’ cross was not smooth. It had splinters and jagged edges all over the place, and the way the nails were pierced into His feet and hands caused Him caused His lungs to push heavily on His diaphragm. Because of this, breathing became a bit of a problem. His lungs could take in air, but He couldn’t breathe out. To do that, He would have to pull up on the nails in His wrists and push up on the nails in His feet and exhale. Pushing up, though, would cause Him to push His scraped, slashed, and bruised back against the splinters or possibly even into them. And let me remind you: He hung on that cross for six hours. Six. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you would do a lot of breathing in six hours.

And yet, despite all of that pain and suffering, the worst was still yet to come.

Jesus said seven different phrases while on the cross. Seven times He pulled Himself up on the cross, enduring extreme forms of agony, to speak with us. Would you like to know the first thing He said?

“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”

Jesus asked God to have mercy on us and forgive us. We’ve rejected Him and cursed His name time and time again, we’ve insisted on turning to Him with malice and hatred, and now we’ve put Him through some of the worst, most excruciating pain imaginable.. But He asked God to forgive us anyway. This, Jesus’ incredible love and mercy and grace towards us, is the baseline of Christianity. His love is what keeps this world turning on its very axis, and it’s why we have no qualms shouting His name to the rooftops. His name deserves to be shouted and praised after all of the things He went through just to allow us to be with Him and talk with Him.

The second phrase He said was to a thief who was hanging on the cross with Him. In the Bible, we are told that Jesus wasn’t the only one being crucified that night. Two thieves were also being crucified along with Him, and they were placed on the mount to His left and to His right. The thief on the right was spitting on Him and mocking Him as well, but the thief on the left rebuked the first thief, saying, “Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss.” And the second thief turned to Jesus and added, “Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.”

This is when Jesus speaks the second time, as He, I imagine, turns to the thief as best He can to reply, “Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.” This conversation right here is a wonderful example of salvation and how simple it truly is. This thief was dying. He’d lived a bad life full of mischief and wickedness, and he had no way of making that right. But because he believed that Jesus was the Son of God, he was still able to go to Heaven. Salvation isn’t about works or what we can try to give back to Christ (although, we should try to give back to Christ as much as we can after being saved), it’s about the free gift that Jesus gave us. Heaven and Salvation is a gift. All we have to do is accept it.

The third phrase Jesus says is to John, one of the disciples, and Mary, Jesus’ mother. The Bible says that Jesus sees them before He speaks, so I imagine they are near the cross and weeping. Again, He drags Himself up on the splintered cross, draws in a pain-staking breath, and utters, “Women, behold thy son!” to Mary, and to John He says, “Behold thy mother!”. So He was making sure that His mother was going to be taken care of before He passed away.

Around this time, as Jesus was hanging on the cross, the earth fell into total darkness. I’m talking the sky was black. And as soon as this happened, Jesus cried out into the sky, saying his fourth comment on the cross.

“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” or “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

This.. is where we see the second add-on that made Jesus so terribly stressed during His prayer in the garden of Gethsemane. He is taking on the sins of the world. One can only imagine how many sins that would be, and in this moment, Jesus is taking every single one of them and forcing them into a single person, a single place to look upon. There was so much sin in Jesus at the very hour, that God had to do what He’s never done before in history and turn His back on a human being.

There are times when God’s grace leaves us, when His mercy runs out and we are instead faced with His judgement, but despite that judgement, God is still present in our lives and in the world around us. No matter how alone we’ve felt in the world, God has always been there next to us without us knowing. But not here. Here, God is actively turning His back on Jesus. He is completely forsaking Jesus because of the amount of sin that has poured into Jesus’ heart and soul as part of the sacrifice. That absence of God is something we are never going to know (unless you don’t get saved and go to hell, I suppose) but I can only imagine how empty it must be. How crushingly lonely it must feel, to know that now, Jesus truly is all alone in this world. The very God, the other part of Himself, that He’s been with since the beginning is now just.. Gone. That, I believe, was the worst part of this entire crucifixion for Jesus. He can face the physical pain; He can face the disgustingness of sin; He can face the humiliation of being God but also being mocked and treated like a life form lower than dirt because He knew He wasn’t facing any of that alone. He knew God was right by His side.

But now He wasn’t.

And Jesus was still there on the cross.

We see in the Bible that the darkness lasted for a full three hours, meaning Jesus has to go at least three more hours without God’s presence and comfort and light. In these last few hours, though, Jesus says three more phrases. His fifth phrase is, “I thirst.”

Another part of the Roman crucifixion costume was to get a sponge and soak it in vinegar mixed with gall. The combination created an extremely bitter taste that would supposedly distract the crucified from their pain every now and then, if only for a moment. So when Jesus said, “I thirst”, the Romans quickly got a sponge or even a cup ready and gave Him a sip of it. After He drank the cup, Jesus cried with a loud voice and said His final two phrases. Now in Luke and John, the last phrase that Jesus says is different when compared to each other, but the phrases are both so unique that I believe Jesus said both of them, one right after the other, and John and Luke simply wrote down different halves. So I’m going to write the last two phrases together.

“Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. It is finished.”

After this phrase, Jesus gives up the ghost, or in other words, allowed Himself to die. This is another crucial point of Christianity because it shows Jesus’ power over life and death itself. He isn’t killed by blood loss or exhaustion or by a heart attack or anything like that. He simply dies because He wanted to at that moment. I think that’s kind of comforting actually. A God as powerful and loving as Jesus, who can control His own life and death as well as everyone else’s and was willing to give up His own life for us when we didn’t deserve it or even ask, is a God I most definitely want to serve.

Unfortunately, though, death was not quite the end of Jesus’ sacrifice. Not many people know this (or, at least, I didn’t know it for a long while), but after Jesus’ death, He went to hell for three straight days. Yes, you read that correctly. Actual Hell. If He’s going to take our punishment, He needs to take all of it, right? So don’t think God is just dishing out the punishments, but not taking any for Himself. He doesn’t need any, because He is a holy and perfect God, but He took some anyway so we didn’t have to, because He is also loving and merciful.

Hell was, thankfully, the last step of the sacrifice. After that, Jesus completed the ritual of becoming our free ticket to salvation by raising Himself from the dead! Have you ever heard of anyone who could raise themselves? I haven’t! And on top of that, the Bible says that Jesus’ resurrection was so powerful, that several other people around him were raised from the dead too! Just because He raised himself! Isn’t that crazy?

This is why rejecting Christ is such a big deal to God, and why people who claim there are other ways to Heaven are extremely blasphemous, because if there were any other possible way to Heaven, do you honestly think that God would have sent His only, begotten Son to die on the cross for us? Do you think God wanted to come down to suffer through all of this pain just to say “yeah, actually, you can also get in this other way”? No, of course not. Rejecting Christ’s sacrifice and salvation is basically telling Him that all of that pain and suffering didn’t matter, the same as spitting on Him like the other Jews as He hung on the cross.

He’s made the pathway to Heaven unbelievably simple. All we have to do is admit that we’re sinners, admit that we need saving from our sins, and accept Jesus Christ to be our savior by believing that He was the Son of God and that He died on the cross for us. If I was sure about anything in life, it is this. God is real. Heaven is real. Hell is real. Jesus is real, and He, along with God the Father and the Holy Spirit, is calling to you now. He is giving you another chance to accept Him as your savior before it’s too late. This could possibly even be your last chance. So please don’t put it off.

I love you guys very much and really really appreciate the people who have continued reading this. I’ll be praying for all of you to receive what I’ve told you, and for those who already have, I’ll be praying for you to keep growing in the Lord. Stay strong in the faith my friends! Keep telling the world about Jesus! He’s always right beside us! <3

Also, Here’s a link for a youtube video about Jesus’ death from a medical point of view. It’s a bit more detailed than I was, so please go watch it as well! https://youtu.be/0B3kgiLxybYOn that note, here’s a link I found recently that gives a bunch of videos and written materials from the author of “Cold Case Christianity”. He was someone who used to be an atheist until he started studying the four gospels with his skill of eye-witness-account-scrutiny. After studying the Bible for a few months, He realized that the Bible is, in fact, telling the truth, and ever since then he’s been racing to let the rest of the world know. Please check him out! www.coldcasechristianity.com/resources)

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#felinette #Marinette #Felix Culpa #Miraculous Ladybug #Quantic Kids #Rosemary AU #New Girl on the Block

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1engele · 3 years

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daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 8. solo

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[warnings: underage drinking, smoking, weed, near death experience?, crying]

"never have i dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul." — You leave the roof late in the night. Sal had gotten up and retreated into his apartment a little while earlier—but you'd decided to stay and make sure he didn't come back there.

Three days pass. They all consist of fleeting glances and irresolute tension. Things remain the same with the group dynamic, except for between you and Sal. Neither of you seem to know how to continue from that conversation on the roof. No one else notices, though. They'd never suspected anything from the beginning, it seems.

The beginning of your involvement with Sal involved a little bit of buildup and then a snap which resulted in a sexual encounter (or two).

Now it was a bit different. Now things were a little less lighthearted.

It's a Saturday—you'd planned to spend it inside as usual. That's until your phone starts ringing.

You flip your phone open, read over the contact, and answer the call.

"Hi, Ash."

"Y/N," she starts. You hear the excitement to continue in her voice. "There's a party tonight."

"Oh?" You get up from your seat on your bed.

"Some stoner Larry has connections with invited him and said to bring friends. He wants to bring us—save for Todd. He doesn't do parties."

"Wait," your eyebrows furrow. "Me?"

"Yeah!" She says from the other end of the line. "It'll be fun. Cmon."

You bite your lip nervously, anxiety knotting in your stomach. "I don't know. I've never really.."

Ashley is momentarily silent on the other line. She must be contemplating what to say to convince you. "Sal's coming too. Parties aren't necessarily his thing, either—so maybe you guys could try it out together?"

You open your mouth and then promptly close it. Something inside of you suddenly really wanted to go to this party. "Um... alright. Okay."

"Cool! What're you gonna wear?"

You look toward the drawer that contained your clothes and bit your lip. "Not sure yet. I'll update you on that."

"Okay, don't forget to text me! See you at eight."

The call declined from the other line. The phone that held the phone to your ear slipped into your lap. You pressed your lips together and tried to ignore the familiar feeling of sickening nausea and anxiety.

You don't rush yourself on getting ready for the party, because the time you're due to be done won't be for a while.

You take your time with the hours you have. You shower, take your time on eyeliner, mascara, and lipgloss—and finally decide on what you'll wear.

You decide on a square neck white cropped tank with short sleeves and your nicest pair of light blue, slightly washed out jeans. You slid on your favorite, sort of chunky white sneakers over white socks.

It isn't long after you finish when Ashley calls and informs you she's arrived at the apartments and Larry and Sal have already joined her out in the car. You give yourself a once-over in the mirror and then leave the apartment.

Your mother was nowhere to be found. She's either at work or drinking with her coworkers.

Once you've opened the door and climbed into the Ford Fiesta, you immediately realize your predicament—Sal is the only person in the backseat with you.

The drive there is decently long and painfully tense. Neither you nor Sal know how to speak to each other, so no words are exchanged beneath the heavy metal music emitting from the radio.

When you finally arrive at the party, it's recognizably crowded, drunken teenagers are flowing from the front door, in and out, and there's a good amount on the lawn. The newest radio hit is playing on a considerably loud speaker, and the vibrations are notable even from a distance.

"Woah," Larry says, staring at the house as Ashley pulls onto the side of the road. "Didn't realize he was so popular."

You all exit the Ford Fiesta and cross the road. You cringe as you watch someone vomit onto the grass, and another person ripping from a bong in the wide open.

Smoke flies into your face and your eyes as you enter the home. You cough, waving a hand as you blindly follow after your friends.

Eventually, the four of you find yourself on two couches directly facing each other. You on one, Larry and Ashley on the other. Sal is stood to the side.

Larry materializes a bottle of Fireball that you guessed he stole from someone on the way in, opens the cap with his teeth, and takes several gulps.

"Where did you get that?" Ashley laughs over the music, pulling the sleeves of her lavender sweater over her hands.

"Stole it," he looks to Sal and directs the bottle toward him. "Want some?"

"Sure," Sal replies, to your surprise—taking it from Larry's grasp and walking away and in your direction.

"You're drinking that?" You ask him, testing the waters.

"No, actually," you watch Sal round to the other side of the couch to linger behind you. "I'm limiting him. He'll thank me later."

Once he's out of your field of vision, you tip your head back and gaze up at him—your perspective on him being upside down. Your gaze zeroes in on the bottle of Fireball he's clutching in his hand.

"Hey," you say, meeting his eyes. "Give me some."

It was time to give him that excuse—the excuse to break the ice.

He leans in a bit, gesturing toward you with the bottle. "You want it?"

A grin pulls at your glossed lips. Instead of reaching for the bottle, you open your mouth and tilt your chin up.

Sal looks on for a moment but laughs once he realizes what you want. Everyone else at the couches seem decently distracted with each other and the overall environment—so he doesn't seem to worry about it too much.

He reaches his hand around and towards your neck, gripping your jaw in his fingers and holding you firmly. You feel his cold rings press into your skin when he tips your head further back just a bit—and then steadily pours a shot-amount of Fireball into your mouth with his other hand.

Sal stops at the right time, looks on as you pull back and sit up, and cautiously watches the back of your head as you assumedly swallow the whisky. But when you turn a bit in your seat to peer at him over your shoulder, you're holding your mouth closed and pressing a closed fist to your lips while soundlessly giggling.

"What?" He laughs, a hand moving to the top of the couch. He leans in a bit. "Can you not swallow it?"

Your shoulders shake slightly as you continue to laugh. You shake your head up and down.

"Do you need to spit it out?" Sal asks, his tone warming into concern.

You shake your head from side to side. You meet his eyes and swallow, gasping as the liquid slides down your throat and burns all the way down. You cough, the flavor of cinnamon and what tasted like Big Red gum overloaded your senses.

"God," you breathe out, giggling all the while. The alcohol is gross but you're feeling good. "It's not great."

"Yeah, that's why I'm holding Larry off, so he won't be puking his guts out later."

You look up to the boy, who's sat on the arm of the couch opposite to you. He's busy talking to some equally stoned guy, so you can't manage to catch his eye—but you catch Ashley's.

She had this look of astonishment on her face.

Had she been watching what happened? When Sal poured Fireball in your mouth?

Your face grew hot thinking about it.

Sal wanders away from you again, and you find yourself drinking more than you should. Eventually, your rationality disappears.

It's been a few hours and Sal hasn't seen you for a while. So when he hears about a girl wearing a white crop top walking across the roof of the house, he feels like he's going to vomit.

It takes him a record time of 6 seconds to get out of the door and onto the lawn. Upon looking up at the roof, his suspicions are confirmed. He shoulders past multiple people to place himself near the front of the crowd and gazes up in horror.

"Sal!" You yell, gesturing toward him with something between a wave and a point. "I'd recognize that hair anywhere!"

Multiple heads within the crowd turn away from you and towards him. He puts aside his social anxiety and the wave of unease that washes over his body and tries to focus on you. "Please come down," he rushes out, raising his voice just enough for it to be audible over the crowd.

You laugh like he's told a hilarious joke and he quickly realizes his mistake. That's the worst thing he could've told your intoxicated self. You move toward the edge of the roof, shaky and uncoordinated. "You want me to jump?"

"No!" He exclaims, his hands flying up, fingers splayed. "No. Don't do that!"

"Holy shit!" He hears Larry shout from somewhere closer to the front door of the house. Sal guesses he's just now catching wind of the current situation. Moments after, both of his brunette friends are at his side.

"What the hell is going on?!" Ashley yells, verdant eyes glued to the sight before them.

You lost your balance once again, but this time a bit worse—your foot catching on a shingle on the roof and effectively knocking the red solo cup out of your hand. It dropped onto the downward slope of the roof and the liquor inside of it spilled down the side.

Whenever Sal witnessed the toe of your white sneaker catch onto that shingle, he felt as though his very soul had been ripped from his body. Immediately after he watched you regain your footing and stable yourself, though—his heartbeat calmed to a steadier pace.

"I'm going up there," he stated beneath the chatter.

Both Ashley and Larry's heads whipped toward him.

"You'll kill yourself!" Larry exclaims incredulously. Ashley opens her mouth to assumedly second Larry's statement, but Sal cuts her off by walking away.

"Not before she does," he mutters, pushing his way through the density of bodies and forcing his way through the front door. His senses are disoriented like he's been submerged beneath water as the volume of the music scratched at his eardrums and pulsed the innards of his skull. Adrenaline courses through his blood like a drug whilst he shoulders past both mindlessly drunk and carelessly high teenagers.

Sal doesn't spare them a second glance, but their unconcern does remain in his mind. The fact that they're continuing their lives while he feels as though something that's growing into something of importance in his is about to be taken from him... it's mind-numbing.

He's never been an optimistic person, he's always tried to view things in the way they're most likely to happen—and all that's beneath that two-story house is a long drop and concrete. If you fall, you'll break your head open and you'll die.

He finally makes it to the stairs. He makes a break for it then, tripping over his own feet multiple times. Anything could happen in this amount of time, and he knew no one else was going to help him.

Sal's thoughts grow more and more disordered as he navigates the dark halls of the house. The music seems to have only grown louder, the deafening mixture of guitar and drums taunting him.

He remembers the window on the outside of the house. Sal estimates which room it would be, locates it, and approaches the door. He turns the knob, but it doesn't fully rotate.

The door is locked from the inside. Of course. Who would have a party and leave the bedroom unlocked so people could fuck all over your comforter?

He bites out a curse only he hears and prepares himself to force the door open.

Sal grabs the doorknob tightly, prepares himself, and rams the side of his body into the wood. He doesn't even feel the pain, just does it again, and again.

He goes until that half of his body is numb.

The door finally budges, and he wastes no time entering the room. He doesn't hesitate when he reaches the double-hung window he'd been seeking. He grips it at the bottom and pulls it up and open, clenching his teeth together painfully.

Sal stares out at the vastness of the night, the golden streetlights, and how they shine down on the crowd of people below him. They all seem to be looking at the same place, up, but not at him—and he can only swallow thickly.

Carefully, Sal moves to sit on the windowsill, gripping what was above him tightly, his legs outside. He then ducks to leave the room and shivers as cool air hits the front of his neck.

He starts walking the roof, steadily—like his life depends on it. Because.. it does.

Or yours. Yours depends on it.

"Y/N!" Sal calls as he finally reaches a point where you're in his line of sight. Momentarily, he's worried he'd scared you. But you turn your head, meet his eyes, and smile. Despite that, your face spells fear all over it. Something must have sobered you up a bit while he'd been inside.

"I'm going to come to you. Do not walk towards me!"

You blink lazily, because you were drunk, and nodded. You shivered, hugging yourself. It didn't seem to do much, though. Your arms were bare.

"Fuck," he breathes, gazing down at the fall that could await him if he misstepped and immediately reverted his gaze. Blood rushes between his ears as he steadily makes his way towards you.

"Please don't fall!" You suddenly exclaim, your hair tussling in the breeze. A strand blows over your face, so you quickly raise a hand to move it back in place.

He looks up from his feet and stares you in the eyes. "I won't," he affirms, you and himself, continuing across the roof. "Just stay put, okay?"

It doesn't take long to get over to you. He's mostly sober, so it isn't hard on that part. What's difficult is calming his steady heart.

He's not scared of falling. Not necessarily scared of injury or death. But he is scared of not making it to you.

Once he's at an arms reach of your shaking form, he reaches out a hand, palm facing the darkness of the sky.

You seem to read his mind, slowly grabbing his hand. Sal maneuvers your joint hands to where your palms press together and your fingers are interlaced. He doesn't know if it's the blood rushing through his ears or the distance from the ground, but it's as if everything below becomes very quiet.

You meet his gaze, your pretty eyes glossy with tears. The eyeliner you were wearing had just begun to collect beneath your lower lash line.

He squeezes your hand and leads you to be in front of him.

It's not long after that that he's gotten you off of the roof. Sal watches you slip through the open window before turning toward the density of people beneath him on the ground. He breathes in as he catches both Larry and Ashley's eyes—he can't read their expressions, but he wouldn't be surprised if there was shock written all over it—and then ducks back into the window.

As soon as the window is shut and it meets the windowsill once more, Sal whips his head toward you. "Y/N-"

Before he'd saw your face, and the language of your body as you were sat on the edge of the bed, he was going to scold you, and then go downstairs and find you some water and sober you up—all of that falls down the drain when he sees the stream of tears falling down your face. Every time you blink, more drop—quickly staining your cheeks with black makeup.

"Oh," he breathes, suddenly speechless. "Y/N-"

You attempt at taking a breath in, it seems—but it's a failure because it hitches and turns into a shoulder-shaking sob.

"I'm sorry," you cry, roughly dragging the tips of your fingers beneath your eyes. This only smears the running mascara further. "I'm just drunk."

Sal momentarily feels like breaking down in tears himself, that's how much this entire ordeal stressed him out. He approaches your trembling body and crouches down in front of you.

"Hey," he says, softly. "It doesn't matter whether or not you're intoxicated. Your feelings still matter, okay?"

You sniffle, still attempting to wipe your tears away, and reluctantly nod. "I'm sorry," you try again.

He places his hands on your knees and squeezes them firmly. "It's okay."

You jerk into a sob, leaning forward and pressing the side of your face on his shoulder. You slowly tuck your arms beneath his and cross them over the expanse of his back, palms flat on each shoulder blade. The convulsive gasps were hard to stop, making it hard to breathe.

Sal breathed out softly against the prosthetic, raising his arms and encasing them around your torso.

He didn't wonder about the reason for your tears. Assuming things wouldn't help you anymore.

"I don't know why I did that," you whisper, quieting yourself to swallow your saliva. "Maybe I do. I think I was trying to prove something to myself."

He finds himself holding you tighter, your chest pressed to his, feeling your heartbeat through the fabric that separated you both—oddly enough, even at this moment, it reminds him of that night in the car. You had been even closer to him then, though.

"It was stupid," you murmured. "Why would I do that, after what we had talked about last night?"

"What if we jumped together?" he remembers saying.

"Some things can't be explained," he replies earnestly. "You don't need to know why you did what you did. It was stupid, though. I'd probably walk across the roof of a two-story house for you again, but.."

You pull back and meet his eyes, your face wet. The majority of your makeup had been cried off and your lipgloss had been smudged.

You must've sensed his examination, breaking the visual contact and sniffling. "I know I look ridiculous right now."

Sal smiles. He knows she can't see it, but maybe she'll hear it. "I don't think so," he murmurs, looking off to the side. "I think that's a bathroom. You can clean up in there if you want."

You follow his gaze and then return your eyes to his and laugh a bit. You still sound drunk, he notes. Obviously. He'd poured a good amount of Fireball into your mouth and watched you drink plenty of other things.

"Feels kinda weird using a stranger's bathroom," you laugh, your breath hitching from the earlier crying.

Sal rolls his eyes humorously, gripping your knees tighter as he pulls himself off of the floor. "The guy who lives here is Larry's friend—and a stoner. I doubt he'd mind. And if he does get mad, I'll take responsibility for it. I forced that door through, anyway.."

Your gaze swivels toward the door, which is not shut but mostly closed. When he glances to where you're looking, he notices it seems a bit.. crooked.

He inwardly cringes. "I'll pay for it. Come on."

Sal follows you into the bathroom. You seem reluctant to enter first, so he does, opening the door and reaching to the side to turn the lights on. They do what they're supposed to—eventually. They're momentarily unresponsive before becoming alive—the illumination brightening the room with a dull yellow hue.

You step onto the tile and began to search for whatever it was you needed. You kneeled at one of the cabinets below the sink, opened it, and ducked your head lower.

"Oh!" You exclaim quietly, reaching in and pulling out two things. A bottle of half-empty makeup remover and a bag of some cotton rounds.

"Maybe he has a girlfriend?" He hears you say to yourself, standing up, nudging the cabinet closed with your foot, and placing the things you found beside the sink.

Sal reaches over and closes the door. He'd rather not have to witness the sight of some drunkards wandering in and fooling around on the bed.

"Lock it," you say. "I'd rather no one- no one see me like this."

His hand was already on the doorknob, so he just reaches down a bit and locks the door.

He watches you struggle a bit with the bag of cotton rounds, trying but failing to open it, so he reaches forward and delicately plucks it out of your grasp.

Sal slides the makeup remover over and pats the place on the counter it was previously. "Sit."

You peer into his eyes inquisitively but waste no time hoisting yourself up and onto the cold surface.

After that, he plucks the bottle of makeup remover off of the counter and douses the cotton round in the liquid. He reaches forward from the distance that your knees created between the both of you, but you spread your thighs and press the heel of your shoe into his lower back, pulling him in so he's between your legs.

Sal doesn't see it suggestively, because you're drunk—but he's glad you asked him to lock the door because, with his luck, Larry or Ashley would find their way into the bathroom and get all of the wrong ideas.

The firmness just beneath his navel presses into the edge of the counter as he cups one side of your face and began wiping away at the eyeliner and mascara and everything it messed up.

"Thank you," you say sweetly, blinking at him with appreciation in your eyes. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

He remembers a silhouette. Her back was turned to him, golden hair cascading just past her shoulder blades. He remembers blue eyes that looked a lot like his own staring into a mirror, a hand which adorned a wedding ring wiping away makeup from the day.

"Read it on the label of the bottle," he replies, meeting your eyes and looking away.

As he's finishing up, he hears a rapping of knuckles against the locked door. He tosses the used cotton rounds into a trash bin in the corner and then locks eyes with you curiously.

"Occupied," he calls out, still looking at you. The knocking only gets louder, which makes you laugh.

"He said it's occupied!" You yell over the unintelligible music downstairs, your words breaking into a giggle. You press your knees against his waist, and he doesn't even realize it when his hands meet your thighs.

The knocking ceases, fading into a voice. "Is that you guys in there?"

Fucking Larry. Speak of the goddamn devil—that's what he would've said if he'd come knocking sooner.

The both of you seem to be thinking the same thing, locking eyes in terror. You quickly get off of the counter, and Sal unlocks the door and swings it open.

Sure enough, he's standing there—in all of his glory and highness. Larry blinks, the whites of his glossy eyes tinted red. He looks between the both of you before speaking. "Why were.."

"I had to pee," You choose to deadpan.

Sal feels himself grow even paler than he already is. "I came in.. after.. that."

Larry intakes a mouthful of whatever is in the red solo cup he's holding in his tan, lanky fingers, and swallows thickly. "Okay," he croaks, instinctively cringing as the alcohol passed through his chest. He gestured the cup toward you. "Uh..crazy stunt you pulled up there, huh?"

Sal saw your face shift in his peripheral vision. "Huge lapse of judgment," you reply.

"Nobody could tell who you were, so don't worry about that," the brunette smiles a bit. He returns his attention to Sal. "They've started playing country," sure enough, Sal hears the sound of a banjo from the speakers downstairs, effectively punctuating Larry's statement.

"Yeah.." Larry mumbles, sipping his drink and looking up and through his eyebrows. "Ash said to come find you guys so we can leave."

It doesn't take much, after that.

As you're leaving, Larry pulls the door open and furrows his brow at the condition of the hinges. "Wow. How old is this thing?" He mumbles.

Sal hears you snort.

The three of you descend the stairs, skirting past countless teenagers standing on the steps drinking or smoking. Sal makes the mistake of letting you fall behind and feels you stumble and smack him in the back. It's easy to steady himself, quickly gripping the railing—but he's concerned about you, so he turns around.

A guy with a cigarette balancing in his teeth is eying you with frustration pulling at his features. His gaze pulls from your face and down your body absentmindedly.

"Watch it," he murmurs.

"Sorry," you breathe, jerking your head away and meeting Sal's eyes worriedly. Keep walking, you express in the hues of your eyes.

Sal reaches forward and interlaces your fingers with his as he'd done on the roof. He makes a show of it, too—so the guy with the cigarette sees the rings on both of his hands. Sal gives him a distinct look when they lock eyes, rolls his jaw, and lets you lead him down the stairs, instead of the other way around.

By the time you're all nearly shot from weaving through the multitude of sweaty bodies and navigating through plumes of smoke thicker than fog, the three of you find Ashley petting what he'd assume is the host's dog.

No one questions it.

"You good to drive?" Larry asks, placing his cup on a nearby surface.

"Oh, yeah," she rises from her crouch beside the dog. The animal walks away, his golden tail wagging excitedly at the next person who would give him pets. "A gross sip of something put me off of drinking tonight a while earlier. And, uh.. the whole roof thing dried me out."

You sigh. "I'm sorry about that. It sobered me up, too."

She shakes her head, a wispy strand of light brown hair falling over her face. "It was stupid, yes, and I hope you don't do it again, but all that matters now is that you're safe."

Ashley blinks kind green eyes at you and smiles, reaching forward, taking your hand, and leading you away. Sal hears you laugh and follow after her as both of you head for the front door.

He turns to look at Larry once he loses sight of both of you in the crowd. He examines Sal with bleary dark eyes and looks as though he's about to say something, but he doesn't get to.

Even over the blaring country music, Sal hears a yell and then some fearful shouting. He whips around toward the sounds, which were toward the front of the house.

Red and blue flashing lights shine through the windows.

"Shit!"

"Ah, fuck," Larry groaned, nimbly wrapping his fingers around Sal's wrist and dragging him into the density of the panicked crowd. "Did you see where they went?"

Sal shakes his head. "No," he knows you're intoxicated. Panic settles in. He chews his lip, his eyes desperately scamming for a girl wearing a white top squared at the neck—you. "Y/N's had a lot to drink, Larry. If the police-"

"Don't worry about the Five-O, let's worry about the girls," Larry replies absentmindedly, keeping his firm hold on Sal.

"They must've gone to the Ford," Sal shouts over the music, which, for some reason, is still playing. "We were leaving anyway. I'm sure they're in the car."

Larry releases Sal and motions toward the back of the house. "There's a back door. I'll text Ashley and tell her to drive down the block and we can meet them on foot."

It was an agreeable plan. Waltzing out of the house and walking straight up to the car wouldn't be wise.

Larry does what he'd said he'd do. Turns out, Sal was right, they had made it to the car moments before the police had rolled up. Ashley informed him it was two squad cars and four officers. Seemed like overkill for a house party—but he wouldn't know. He didn't do this often.

When Larry was on the phone, Sal was very tempted to ask about Y/N, but refrained.

On the way to the back door, they crossed through the kitchen. Larry snatched an unopened bottle of alcohol of a brand Sal didn't recognize and carried it along with him for the road.

As soon as they made it out of the house, they both made a break for it, running between houses and into multiple different backyards on their way.

They slowed down once they were at a measurable distance from the party, gasping for air. Sal panted against the prosthetic, placing his hands on his knees and slowing his gasps into slow breaths, attempting to calm his racing heart.

They stood on the side of the road, the music in the distance (albeit a lot quieter) still pounding into the night.

Sal lowered himself down onto the curb. Larry joined him, raising the bottle he'd chose to bring with him to his mouth, and opened the steel cap with his teeth. He spits it onto the road and gestures it toward Sal.

"Bottoms up," he said, bringing it to his lips and taking several gulps.

Sal rolled his eyes playfully, eyebrows rising as Ashley's Ford Fiesta cruised down the road and slowed to a stop in front of them. He stood up from the curb and pulled Larry off of it as well.

They entered the car, sliding into the backseat. Larry continued to down the beer he'd found as Ashley turned around in her seat.

"The night's still young," she says. "Any ideas of what we could do?"

It's really not. Sal's a bit disoriented so he doesn't know what time it is but he wouldn't be surprised if it was 3 AM.

You then turn around in the passenger seat and grin mischievously. "Let's go to the lake."

Oh, great.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

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discotreque · 3 years

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LwD 2.05: An Embarrassment of Dooplers

So I was a little nervous about this one! I hadn’t heard any spoiler-spoilers, but screeners have been out for weeks now, and I’d heard a bunch of individual, vague, non-spoilery hints about (1) big character moments, on the scale of a mid-season finale even though the show’s not taking a mid-season break; and (2) an ending that would make me cry.

I guess I imagined something relatively serious and dramatic, like “No Small Parts”? This show makes me cackle with laughter and giggle with nerdy glee and “d’awww!” at heartwarming friendships every week, but it’s only ever made me cry once—and then I was impressed that they were going to get there from the wacky hijinks we saw in the brief teaser.

The lack of a cold open made me apprehensive too—in my experience, that’s typically a sign that there’s so much plot in the rest of the episode that they need that extra scene—but after ~21.5 minutes of aforementioned hijinks, I was having so much fun that I’d completely forgotten about the alleged tear-jerker at the end…

…and they were not the tears I was expecting.

I didn’t think I’d be smiling and crying!!!! That was wholesome as SHIT!!!!!

I almost can’t believe they earned that—but they totally did.

After a Mariner–Tendi episode and a Boimler–Rutherford episode, we’re back to the “usual” Season 1 pairings… except the relationships between these characters have changed since Season 1. Mariner still feels thwacked in the abandonment issues by Boimler bailing for the Titan, and Rutherford’s having a tiny little existential crisis about losing an entire year of his life.

Both of which are extremely understandable and very heavy situations—and both of those situations get resolved because everyone in them is vulnerable with each other and honest about their feelings—AND that honesty and vulnerability brings both pairs of friends closer together. Are you kidding me?? I would watch SEVENTY seasons of that shit. Put it in my veins.

Onto the notes:

So basically Dooplers are Tribbles, but for cringe comedy instead of slapstick? Ohhhhh boy.

Look at Ransom the diplomat, tossing his own fork on the floor! I like that he’s actually a pretty competent Starfleet officer, despite also being a completely ridiculous person.

Wait a second, is that—OH HOLY SHIT, THE DOOPLERS ARE VOICED BY RICHARD KIND.

It makes sense that B. Boimler would find William annoying—who likes seeing their own flaws reflected back at them? And who could be a better reflection of one’s flaws than one’s literal duplicate?—but most interesting to me is that it implies on some level, Bradward knows the stick up his butt is a flaw. (Does William?)

Why does the Cerritos model have working phasers?!?!

I’m loving hot pink as the currently en-vogue colour for “dangerous sci-fi energy” in animation (cf. almost every previous episode of this show; Into the Spider-Verse; other stuff I can’t remember right now). As a former child of the 80’s, I’m living for it… but as a former teenager of the 90’s, I can’t help but wonder if it’s going to age as poorly as the harsh neon green of The Matrix, every Borg appearance on Voyager, and like 80% of the websites I made in high school…

SKANTS! SKANTS! SKANTS!

That fake-out joke with the fly-by over the Cerritos model was in the season trailer weeks ago, and I was so enthralled by that handsome lady that the sticker coming into frame still got me good 😂😂😂

BECKY Mariner????? omg yes

Some top-quality Boimler screams in this one. Poor Jack Quaid must drink gallons of throat-coat tea when he records.

One of the great things about Star Trek to me is that you never know what you’re going to get from any random episode. A murder mystery? A road trip? A spooky thriller? A cheesy romance? Broad comedy? Body horror? Didactic political screeds shrouded in tissue-thin science-fiction metaphors? Brain and brain, what is brain??? And after this many years of watching, you’d think I’d be hard to surprise. But if I ever told you I thought I’d see a Blues Brothers–style car chase through a frickin’ shopping mall on an episode of Star Trek, I would have been straight-up lying to you. I loved it, it worked for me, my jaw was on the floor and I was clapping with joy—but I’m definitely comfortable calling this one “unexpected.”

It’s CAPTAIN SHELBY!!! And an ancient babydyke crush rose from the depths of my childhood subconscious… (Also I think her Number One is based on the original makeup—eventually deemed too complicated—for Saru? Now that’s a deep cut.)

In 20th-century Trek, you almost never got to see what was going on inside a starship from the outside. Even after they switched from physical models (where it was next to impossible on a single episode’s budget) to CGI (which was still in its infancy, still not exactly cheap, and still broadcast in SD anyway), it was a rare thrill to see any meaningful interior details in an exterior shot. Disco’s modern VFX have given us some tasty, tasty treats in that department, but nothing quite as sublime as all the pink Doopler light glittering through the Cerritos’s windows.

Mariner says she’ll take her contact Malvus down with her, and threatens that they’ll end up “in the same cell.” Malvus is a Mizarian, a species introduced in TNG’s “Allegiance,” in which Captain Picard is held in a mysterious prison with one. I think I see what you did there, McMahan?

Bartender… so hot… lesbian circuits… overloading…

The Tendi and Rutherford C-story was, well, a C-story within a 22-minute episode, so there wasn’t much to it, but the one scene that mattered actually mattered a lot. I’m ambivalent on whether they should end up romantically involved—I’d prefer they don’t, but they’ll be one of the cutest couples in Trek history if they do—and as long as they keep that pure, sweet friendship between them at the heart of whatever else happens, I’m on board.

Carol Freeman was already one of my favourite captains before this season, and she’s been steadily moving up the list. The quiet throughline about her ambition to be on a better ship has been fascinating so far, and it’s starting to actually make me feel a little conflicted: I’m of course rooting for Captain Freeman to recognize her worth, make Starfleet recognize her worth, and become the ass-kicking captain of a hero ship that she’s clearly ready to be—but that almost surely means she’d be kicking ass off-screen, because LwD isn’t about those kind of adventures, and I’d be devastated not to have Dawnn Lewis on the show every week. So I’m kind of on the edge of my seat about this one!

I had so many favourite jokes this week I put them in a separate list:

“Even the replicated water on the Titan tasted better” is a low-key brilliant dunk on people who can’t shut the fuck up about the cooler places they used to live.

“Ooooh, they have a Quark’s now! That used to just be an empty lot where teens would make mistakes!” ← That’s literally me every time I go back to where I grew up. I felt so Seen™ I almost hid under a blanket.

“I would never go down the stairs!” (evil grin) (goes up the stairs)

The “well, shit” expressions from Mariner and Boimler as their crashed car sank right into the water… which started to bubble innocuously… and then the bottles of Data bubble-bath popped up, paying off a joke I thought had already been paid off—that was the one that woke up my poor cat this week. Just exquisite timing.

“YOUR PAGH IS WEAK, AND IT DISGUSTS ME!” “I don’t even know what that is, but I don’t like your tone!”

“Okona’s in there? He’s not even Starfleet! This is outrageous!” made me shout “NO!” at the screen like I was scolding my cat for scratching furniture. (She did not wake up that time.)

Best background joke: the neon sign at the dive bar advertising FREE SHOTS & BEERS. (Get it? Because they’re on a Federation starbase? Where nobody uses money?)

And of course Quark merchandised DS9.

This wasn’t just a standout episode of Lower Decks, this was a brilliant episode of Star Trek, period. The Dooplers, though extremely silly, are nevertheless also a clever sci-fi metaphor for real and relatable personal/interpersonal issues, and an effective plot catalyst for meaningful character growth from all four of our ensigns and the captain.

The jokes were hilarious, the action was kinetic, the A-, B-, and C-plots linked up thematically, the visuals were consistently and thoroughly gorgeous, the character beats—between Mariner and Boimler, Tendi and Rutherford, Mariner and Capt. Freeman—were all genuine, heartfelt and wholesome, and the references to other Trek canon were both deep and deeply affectionate.

Only 15 episodes in, and this series knows exactly what it is, exactly what it wants to do, and knows that it can knock our socks off doing it. Mike McMahan has said in recent interviews that the back half of S2 (and the apparently almost-fully-written S3) is a straight line uphill in quality from here—which surprised me at first, because McMahan seems like a pretty chill dude who doesn’t normally brag about his own work like that.

But then the Prophets sent me a vision of my space dad Ben Sisko, who reminded me of the words of 1930’s baseball player Dizzy Dean:

“If you can do it, it ain’t bragging.”

[Thanks to cygnus-x1.net for the screenshots this week—I was too lazy to do my own.]

#star trek #star trek lower decks #lower decks #lower decks spoilers #lwd spoilers #amy's episode notes

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jawllines · 4 years

Text

So when he rolled up to the nurse’s station at 6PM just before she gave report to night shift, a stolen pudding cup in hand and cheeks rosy from the cold chill of Gibby’s hospital room. Harry grins at her, “Let me drive you to my place, yeah? I’m making dinner tonight.”

Her brows raise, a smile teases her mouth as she finishes writing down a cheat sheet for each room that she can give to the nurse coming in (she’s a bit new, and doesn’t know the flow of the floor very well yet, so Y/N tries to help when she can) “Yeah? Didn’t know you could cook.”

A gasp leaves him, “Oi, of course I can cook! I could make a Sunday roast that would put any Nan on the block to shame.”

Y/N gets everything she’s ever wanted (Harry does too)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

vii.

“Holy fuck.”

Y/N had been equal parts nervous and excited when Harry invited her to his flat, a mere four days after they returned from Sweden. In all their time together, and in what they had gone through in the past few months, Y/N had not even so much as been extended the offer to go to his flat, let alone actually be privy to it. To no fault of his own -- Y/N reckons that the last thing on his mind was a tour of his home when someone was threatening to rob their company blind and murder his boss -- but that never meant she wasn’t curious.

She was excited because she thrived off visiting people’s places for the first time and learning what their decorating techniques consisted of. Ever since they’d started chatting past the nurse/family relationship, Y/N had been intrigued to know what his place looked like, and would even theorize about it sometimes if she had a moment to spare. Harry had very offhandedly mentioned that he had a Tanuki statue stationed to the right of his door as soon as you walked in, and Y/N (who also had a Tanuki statue) had her interest piqued immediately. Did she and Harry have similar decorating styles or just equivalent odd taste in staple items? Was that his only piece of decoration?

Some boys she considered complete psychopaths and had barren walls besides maybe a flag or a singular sports poster -- that’s why she’s nervous. Hell, she’d love him all the same if he was repping a Manchester football poster but visiting his flat would be a bit of a struggle.

A gasp leaves him, “Oi, of course I can cook! I could make a Sunday roast that would put any Nan on the block to shame.”

“Better watch your mouth, Miss. Gregory has a keen sense of hearing and would beg to differ.” She clicks her pen shut, looking up to where he was leaning against the counter, “I’ll let you drive me, yeah, but can we stop by my place so I can grab Ubbe and a change of clothes? Reckon you don’t want the scent of hospital clouding your flat.”

‘Yes we can stop to grab Ubbe, no you may not grab any clothes. Want you in mine.”

Y/N pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, fixing a response for him in her head but Johnathan just about trips over himself with a convenience store cappuccino and a reusable grocery bag with his lunch, “I’m so sorry m’late, my bloody dog decided he was going to wee on my scrubs.”

“Well, I hope you changed out of them.” Harry notes and Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes before she rolls her chair over to him and starts her shift report.

Things had been calm since they returned from Sweden. Or as calm as they can be post-kidnapping, attempted murder, gang fiasco they had encountered there. When Y/N saw Gibson after it had happened, he pulled her into his body closely and squeezed her tight enough that she had a bit of trouble breathing. Y/N couldn’t lie, she was immensely happy to see him, and despite what she had learned about his relationship between him and his son, she let herself enjoy the cuddle. Even the kiss that he pushed to her temple, before holding tight on her shoulders, “I am not a man who fears many things,” he had started slowly, “Nor am I a man who cares about many things, but you -- I care about you,” he cradles her cheeks in his palms, patting it gently, “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Gibson -- just as Harry -- had a knack for making her feel like a very important addition to their lives. He was relieved to know that she would be his main nurse for the day, and Y/N it’s so he could keep an eye on her. She couldn’t fault him for it though because she beckons Harry around so that she can keep an eye on him. Niall doesn’t think anything is out of the ordinary regarding it, since they usually traveled in something short of a pack. The only reference to the night before that he made (other than asking about her hand, which she had promptly explained that she drunkenly broke a vase and tried to clean it up with her hands) was squeezing her shoulders and uttering, “Champagne turns you into a lightweight, ey? Harry treat you right?” Harry smiled a bit to himself and Y/N cleared her throat, tucking the hair behind her ear.

“Tucked me in, got me water, nursed my hangover, the whole nine.”

Niall patted Harry on the shoulder, “Nice then, mate. Hear one thing about you hurtin’ her and I’ll have to do ya in.”

Harry pouted, “What’s with all the threats my way?”

The night before had felt surreal; a bad, hyper-realistic dream that stuck with her like syrup to a plate. There wasn’t much on the agenda for them since the wedding had passed so they all kind of lingered in Niall and Gibson’s room. They ordered room service, rented a horror film (Gibson was something short of a horror buff, it turned out), and relaxed for the first time in a very long time. It felt like everyone had collectively let out a sigh (apart from Niall, who remained blissfully unaware and fast asleep most of the day).

Harry allowed the others to love upon her for a majority of the time they spent in Gibson’s room. She alternated from being close to where Gibson sat, to leaning against Mickey, and hell she even hung out with Niall a bit when he bothered to wake up. The only bits alone they had together were when she would take Ubbe out for a wee, which normally Mickey might want to accompany her during, but Harry was insistent that he be the one. Had practically pushed her over attempting to get up before Mickey could even think to say that he wanted to go, which he later apologized for.

“I just. . .it won’t be like this for long, but I just -- I wanna be near you, y’know?”

She did know -- because she didn’t want him out of her sight. The few moments that she had to spend, leaving him behind with someone who would ( did) harm him given the chance -- she couldn’t stand it. Could have crawled out of her skin even -- and she knows he must have felt the same, if not worse. Y/N was even more thankful now than ever that they were sharing a hotel room.

Because by the end of the night, when Y/N gave Gibson his nighttime meds, tucked Niall in, and pecked a kiss to Mickey’s scruffy cheek -- they got to flee together. Popped open the door to their room, Ubbe ran in first and beat them to the bed, and Harry suggested a cheeky shower together which -- well, Y/N said if he didn’t mind her in a shower cap (she couldn’t be arsed to wash her hair) then they could go right ahead and do it.

So they did, and Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever been this close with someone before. She helps him tie a plastic baggy over his thigh so that the bandage didn’t get wet before she changed it, and in turn, he helped her tie her own around her hand, “It’s good that I’m here, hm? How else would you clean this arm if you didn’t have me?”

“Niall is dexterous enough.” She teased him.

“I can assure you that I’m far more adept with my fingers than Niall.”

Nothing but bare, smooth skin that their hungry eyes drink each other in. Harry had a lot of tattoos and she can’t help but outline them with her gaze, though she does attempt not to let them wander too far downward -- she would feel bad to stare at his bits, even if he was getting a good look at hers. She did take a whack at his peachy bottom when he leaned over to turn the shower on, and he squeaked, putting his hand over it palm outward, “Aish, that hurt!” Y/N went for him again, a little harder on the other cheek until he straightened out and pivoted, looking at her with furrowed brows, “I’ll spank your bum, see how you like it.”

(Y/N reckons she would like it.)

The shower had been good; it was hot, steamy, and they hadn’t even done anything sexual. They just enjoyed one another, soaked in the hot pelts of water against their skin as they both took turns with who was in the direct line of the water. Harry cleaned her, sudsed her up with strawberry-scented soap, and made her all bubbly before nudging her back into the water. He sang obnoxiously loud, ticked her when he could, and he did get her back with a few swats on her wet bum, leaving a resounding smack that bounced off the walls in an echo. She had fun, and when he bent down to slide their lips together for an innocent little peck, she was over the moon.

It was just good to be with him, and she was happy that her feelings were finally able to be expressed. And he had almost immediately quelled her worries when she thought that maybe this was just a Sweden thing -- maybe they would go home, Harry would not feel the need to be around her constantly since the initial threat had been dealt with and he could go on about his normal life. When she really thought about it, she was sort of just a wrench in his normal plans -- an unnecessary addition and disruption, having accidentally gotten involved in their whole scenario.

But almost as soon as they landed, an hour or two after they had all parted ways to unpack and destress, Harry rang her phone and when she answered she got a, “I don’t think m’quite ready to not be around you 24/7 -- can I come over?”

With a grin that threatened to split her cheeks, she told him to hurry up.

While things were calm now, Y/N still strayed from going out too late at night or lollygagging when she went on her walks with Ubbe. She’s cautious still, of course, but it doesn’t feel like she has to keep looking over her shoulder. They were still taking care of some things, tying off the problem with a nice, neat little bow, and figuring out the semantics of what Elias had left behind with the people he’d hired. From what she understood they were paying them off with a suitable amount to make sure whatever they had discovered or heard wouldn’t be discussed, along with the looming threat that they had actually kidnapped her, and they shouldn’t be a problem any longer. Especially given the fact that they had no emotional ties to the whole situation.

There were still a few questions she might have and confusion on some parts of what happened, but Harry opens up and explains it to her if she asks him anything.

And now she was outside his flat, after climbing seven flights of steps with an ecstatic Ubbe who was beside himself with the new smells. It was a nice area -- a rich one, at that -- the kind of place that she would press her nose up against the window glass as they pass, before looking it up later and realizing that it’s a month’s salary for rent alone. The outer exterior was all sleek and white, about a thousand windows that decorated the building and peered into the lives of the residents. There were balconies as well, each flat had one and from where she could see when they were driving around it toward the parking garage, they were evenly spaced far apart from each other. Which she reasoned that they would be decently large on the inside.

They could have taken the elevator but Y/N felt too guilty to drag Ubbe in when there was an older woman and her friends stepping in, so they took the stairs. When Y/N had suggested it she hadn’t known he was on the seventh fucking floor, but she trudged up and huffed every time he giggled and teased her, even though he huffed and puffed himself.

He was quick with his keys, the slide of the teeth into the lock was smooth and clicked in a fluid motion that she envied (she had to jiggle and jangle her own), but he paused before he twisted the knob, and turned toward her, “Listen -- this is. . .new for me. I don’t invite people over ever . . .not even like hookups or anything, so other than the movers and the occasional Mitch -- nobody else has been here. This is my own little safe space, y’know, I try not to sully it with all the shite I’m in but you -- I just can’t get the thought of you in here out of my head. Needed to see it for myself.”

Her heart was full upon entry, which she hadn’t known if that was his intent or if he just needed her to know beforehand that he wasn’t used to having other people in his flat and he might be a little squirrely. Either or, she leaned forward and nudged her forehead against his shoulder (her hands were full with a wriggling Ubbe so at the time it had been her only option to show affection). She was still a little nervous about initiating the kisses -- Harry was typically the one to initiate it and Y/N melts into them.

Harry opened his door and Y/N was almost immediately greeted with the beloved Racoon dog statue. He told her to go ahead and let Ubbe run amuck (he was her good boy though, he wouldn’t climb any couches or beds without explicitly being told he was allowed to) as she was looking around the small foyer-like entrance. Right away she could tell that Harry had somewhat of an eye for interior design -- everything was cohesive in color and sense of style, he easily put her flat to shame. The sofa was facing away from the door and loveseat was caddy corner to it, both large, and a light grey that looked incredibly pricey but lived on -- there were blankets rumpled atop of it like he might have napped there, the pillows only kind of positioned correctly on the couch. They sat on a rug that is a lighter grey in tone, atop of smooth pine flooring. Behind the sofa, there was a dark console table that stretched along the length of it with a modern square lamp on either end. To the left at the end of the couch, he had an electric fireplace installed into a wall of what appeared to be marble, and above it his tv was fixed to the wall, far bigger than what she was used to. His coffee table looked like it was made of black glass, magazines and books were halfheartedly thrown in the middle.

But what really takes her, that she’s trying to drink in entirely, is the wall of windows that is opposite of where she stood. It was clearly the way to the balcony that looked far larger than it did from the car, the panes of glass were so clear that she would probably slam right into them. They only stopped when it reached the kitchen, because of its open concept she could see it from where she stood and it was all sleek, marble counters and black appliances that all looked incredibly new. There was an island counter with bar stools that she reckons he eats at. On the opposite end of the flat, there was a hallway that she believes led to what she presumes was the rooms and bathrooms.

“Holy fuck.” That’s where she was now, her brows raised as she turned to face him, “We’ve been at my crowded, old, rickety flat when you’ve had this just laying around?”

His brows furrow deeply, “Oi, I love your flat. It’s cozy and comfortable, don’t you dare talk about her like that.”

Y/N is too enamored with what she’s seeing to pay much mind to his words. She’s looking around with her face permanently stuck with her lips in an ‘o’ as she looks up and around, taking in the artwork that he had chosen, how it smelled like him, the way it appeared well lived in yet still pristine and polished, “If I lived here, I reckon I wouldn’t leave,” she continues, reaching out, letting her fingertips stroke against the couch wondering how the material could just feel expensive, “I’d be one of those nurses that answers panicked calls from parents at like 3AM ‘cos their kid sneezed.”

A snort leaves him, but he shakes his head all the same, “S’not that great. Gets a bit lonely.” Her face is pressed against the cool glass of the windows, looking out on the dazzling lights that twinkle from the city below them, but his words and the sad inflection in his voice drags her from it. She turns to face him, where he’s setting his things down on his coffee table before sliding up beside her, “It looks much better with you stalking around it though.”

She laughs, leaning her head against his shoulder, “I’ll come stalk about whenever you want then.”

Harry maneuvers them, kisses his teeth to garner her attention before stealing her lips in a kiss when she turns to face him. Her nose scrunches up and she giggles -- he’d let his facial hair grow out some, and it tickled her face when he pressed their mouths together. She sinks into it though as she always does, and Harry can only kiss her for a few moments before he begins to smile against her, and withdraws, “Christ,” he pecks another kiss against her mouth, “Alright, I’ll show you how to operate my shower, and I’ll have some clothes out for you to change into. Will you teach me how I should wash your scrubs?”

His bathroom is just as modern and seemingly hi-tech as the rest of his flat. He surpasses the one in the hall in favor of taking her to his own through the master bedroom, which has a Hilma af Klint painting (he and Mitch have similar tastes), a bed the size of a room that she’d grown up in (it felt like at the very least) that was made, with a black comforter and about thirty thousand pillows. The headboard was large, rectangular, and a dark stained wood that his other furniture matched. Across from his bed, there is another TV affixed to the wall, with a screen saver of a night sky during a thunderstorm. It smells like lavender and Harry -- she’s comforted by it.

There’s a sleek, black tub, an entirely separate shower that came straight from the ceiling, his sink counter is large -- like, several people could keep their morning and nightly skincare routines on there. He shows her how to use the shower (there was a fucking touch screen on the wall that she used to decide the settings), makes a cheeky joke about watching her undress before he left her be to shower.

It was unlike any showering experience she’d ever had before. He showed her the rainfall setting, gave her a spare loofah to scrub with and he let her use the rose-scented body soap he had a huge container full of. She scrubbed her skin raw, washed away every bit of the day. Harry had told her there was a surprise about the towel when she was finished, which she was soon to find that he had a heated rack. The towel is warm, big, and soft as she wraps it around her body, and she finds that he had left her some clothes to change into. It was a grey soft, worn Harley Davidson shirt and sweatpants. Y/N wriggled them on and left the bathroom. Harry told her he would be in the living room, so she ventured out from his bathroom, but she pauses when her eyes flicker across his dresser.

Set on his drawer chest, there was a photo frame that made her heart swell.

Y/N very vaguely remembers taking it -- the night of the bonfire, when she was scared to be alone and that man who’d been following her turned up at the park when she was there. Harry had come to get her, made her feel safe and soft. It was the first night she had met everyone, hung out with them, drank with them until she got sleepy, and managed to slump into Harry’s body. She remembers being lulled to sleep by the steady drum of his heart, how nice it sounded, how warm she felt, and she remembered how he accommodated her body with his arm around her while he let her rest. All of that she remembers quite vividly, however, the picture that was taken is what she has to dig through her thoughts to be reminded of. It was right after Harry had woken her up, called her snoozy, and patted her bum before letting her lean against him so they could walk to the car. Just before they had started their venture to the car, she remembers Mickey stopping them, having been trigger happy with a camera the entire night.

“Big smiles! This one’s for the books.”

Y/N’s eyes shut and she smiled sleepily, her fingers thrown in a peace sign and Harry grinned wide, a dimple dotting his cheek. The ember glow of the fire outlines them in an orange-ish tint as the flash illuminates them in the night, and Y/N wonders what possessed either of them to wear ripped jeans when she was almost certain that night it was below freezing.

“Tha’s my favorite photo,” Harry’s voice rings from behind her and she nearly startled out of her skin, turning her head to look at him, the frame in hand, “Mickey gave it to me like a month or two after he had developed it, I thought we were right cute.”

“We are,” she thumbs the wooden frame, the ridges dabbing into her skin, “This is the night you first stayed at my flat.”

“After you practically tore me a new one for suggesting otherwise,” his chin hooks on her shoulder, nose dipping into the curve of her throat, “You look nice in my clothes.”

“Reckon?” She leans back, melting into his touch, “They’re very soft, kinda feels like cuddling with you. Guess if I have your shirts I don’t have to bother with the body and your freezing toes.”

“Oi,” he grumbles, sliding his arms around her waist, “Be nice, Pet, or I’ll take ‘em right back. Besides, clothes can’t pet on you, or feed Ubbe, or even turn on the godforsaken vampire film or cook dinner.”

A gasp leaves her as she spun in his arms, “You put on Twilight?”

“Of course I did, you wouldn’t shut up about it before, which had me wondering if I remembered it correctly. Figure after you we eat and you tell me about all the gross shite you had to deal with today, we could watch it.”

It was true -- on the way to his flat, she had not so subtly mentioned that it felt like she was being invited into a vampire’s home before delving into a scene by scene explanation of the better half of Twilight. Harry had openly admitted to not really liking the film but he let’s her rant and rave anyway, even offered his commentary on what he did remember from it. Y/N thinks it’s the first time anyone other than her mother let her express the teenage nostalgia that still resonated with her and the movies as a whole.

And for him to put it on for them to watch? In his beautiful flat that smelled like him? Where she would be fed, be able to chat about her day with someone other than Ubbe, feel warm and happy? She couldn’t think of a better way to spend her time.

“As long as we can cuddle, I think this might be the perfect night.” She tells him and he rolls his eyes playfully, teasing her with a squeeze at her ticklish sides.

“Of course, we’re going to cuddle. You think I spent the last four months pining after you, just for us not to cuddle?”

Y/N lets her eyes flutter shut, leans into him, and smiles.

#WOOOOOO #YAHTZEE :D #THIS IS THE END OF LIKE HALF A YEAR'S WORTH OF WRITING #ITS BITTERSWEET #I LOVE THESE TWO #WRITING #BLURB #HOPE YOU LIKE IT :)

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

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As Above, So Below

I’m still trying to pinpoint exactly why the focus on “heaven is fixed and actually a paradise now!” is just so deeply unsatisfying to me. And I think I need to preface this with a bit of backstory about me, because I think that gives the rest of this essay some relevant context.

I know this isn’t relevant to my main point here, but this is a metatextual and thematically identical example of the exact thing I’m gonna lay out, because context is always helpful. So please forgive this seemingly irrelevant detour, because I promise it will be relevant by the end.

(plus, would it really be an Essay By Mittens™ without at least one baffling tangent? no, it would not!)

Tangent time!

I think everyone that follows me knows how skeptical I was... or should I say how WARY I was of the way Eileen was returned to the narrative this season. We were warned in the PREVIOUS EPISODE how much Chuck was attempting to interfere in their lives. I was accused of some very nasty things, of hating the ship, or hating the character of Eileen, or of hating Sam and not wanting them to be happy. No amount of pointing at obvious warning signs in the text, no amount of yelling about Sam’s God Wound or the absolute klaxon warning that the wound had become “quiet” and his Chuck-O-Vision Nightmares had apparently stopped seemed to matter. I was declared “wrong” and told to shut up.

And then 15.09 happened, and basically everything I’d been wary of was shown to be what actually happened, but there were still unresolved issues. Eileen doubted her own feelings and walked away. She doubted what was actually real. And at the time, I said many times that I would be thrilled to see those issues resolved by the end of the season, and for her to truly know that what she’d felt growing between her and Sam was real. And by the end of the season, despite my personal horror at her previous situation (and having that personal horror compounded by the fandom literally gaslighting me and attempting to bully me into ignoring this basic actual plot detail of this specific growth process which... in the context of what my personal objection was to accepting her return at face value in the first place having been personal trauma associated with gaslighting and manipulation...) by the time 15.18 aired, I was 100% convinced that Sam and Eileen had fully chosen each other, and felt the traumatic pain Sam suffered during that text conversation with her during the snap. She NEEDED to come back, because she had been set up to be part of Sam’s Win. They were clearly each other’s future.

The show literally put in all the work to make even *me* feel this to be True and Right and Good. And then after that point we never even hear Eileen’s name again. We never were told that she was even returned at the end of 15.19. Sam, who had been so entirely devastated by her disappearance in the previous episode that he couldn’t even process it was apparently hit with an amnesia hammer and just... never even thought about her again through a long greyscale life with a blurry baby Dean factory vaguely in the background of a single scene of his life. I can’t credit or justify how after an entire year invested in making us all truly care about Sam and Eileen and the happiness they found in each other if only the cosmos would allow them to choose each other in the end would just... erase all of that in the series finale.

Which brings me to the second tangent, which is specifically about *me,* and how I feel about the cosmic order in the television show Supernatural. Because I feel a lot about it. Probably more than most people ever did. And this is also important to understanding the main underlying point I need to make here.

Something I’ve been most looking forward to, for YEARS, about Supernatural eventually ending someday was writing a book, or a thesis, or even just organizing and compiling all my observations into a cohesive narrative specifically about the cosmology of the Supernatural universe. I’ve been cobbling together my observations and realizations about the nature of heaven, hell, purgatory, the empty, the alternate universes we’ve seen, and yes, even the cosmic function of the mundane level of the story as told by events that transpired on Earth. So of everyone watching this dumb show for the last 15 years, I don’t actually know anyone who cared more that I did about finding a satisfactory resolution and transformation of every plane of existence-- the mortal world AND the “afterlife realms” we’ve experienced on this show. And in the wake of the finale, I feel cheated out of that. Because in the end, it wasn’t about the triumph of free will and a flip of the script, it was just more of the same.

And now that I have those two preliminaries out of the way, I’ll finally get to the point. :’D

(hooray, it didn’t even take 1k words to get there for once!)

The “main stage” of Supernatural has always been Earth. It’s always been “Humanity.” At the very start, we meet two men whose lives had always been dictated to them by higher powers. At first, that “higher power” was their father who raised them in his vengeance mission, who trained them to hunt the supernatural. It was the inciting incident of the entire series, after all, their realization that forces outside of their control had irrevocably altered the course of their lives. It had forever torn down what they’d trusted in family, in personal safety, and would become something they couldn’t outrun or fight back against for long before another wave of cosmic discord would settle over them once more.

We watched this story play out in ever increasing spheres of cosmic significance, until Gabriel laid it out on the table for them in the simplest possible terms (in 5.08).

GABRIEL: You do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You'd think you'd be able to relate. SAM: What are you talking about? GABRIEL: You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other. DEAN: What the hell are you saying? GABRIEL: Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always. A long pause. SAM and DEAN look down, then at each other. DEAN: No. That's not gonna happen. GABRIEL: I'm sorry. But it is. GABRIEL sighs. GABRIEL: Guys. I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow...but this is real, and it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be. ***

And isn’t that all even 1000x more painfully ironic that it all still happened even 10 years later? It was always going to end with them. And lol, “I wish this were a TV show” because if it was then it wouldn’t have to end bloody.

But this… was a Major Acknowledgement that the meta level of this story was consistent, and was telling us something important. It demonstrated that the Cosmic Structure Itself was the cause for Sam and Dean’s “destiny” in this story. But that’s not what the point of this story has ever been.

Nobody (including me, who is literally obsessed with this aspect of the story) has ever invested themselves in the narrative of Supernatural because they cared about the fate of the cosmic order over and above the fate of the characters who had committed to overthrowing it all, to “tearing up the pages” and writing their own destinies. I mean, we became invested because Sam, Dean, and Cas as characters took us by the hand and invited us to come along with them as they battled against fate for the good of EARTH and HUMANITY.

And certainly, Heaven being a horrific sort of eternal replay of the “highlights” of individual souls greatest hits, where free will didn’t apply as everyone was just boxed away into their individual holodecks to serve as some sort of giant Heaven Battery powering the furtherance of this narrative, this “cosmic order” that had become so powerful it dictated the events and manipulated the lives of people who still existed in the ostensible realm of free will and human life on Earth… that couldn’t stand in the end. But what the narrative (and people I’ve seen attempting to justify the finale as narratively sensible) seems to have forgotten was that all of that was Chuck’s construct to begin with. That without Chuck holding his kingdom in Heaven together, the walls of all those soul cubicles ceased to even be relevant.

After spending their entire lives to this point constantly fighting their way to the absolute pinnacle of the As Above, So Below narrative and pulling the plug on the original creator himself, Humanity should’ve triumphed. And I’d argue that it DID, through Jack restoring the missing essential “humanity” to the divine condition. And, silly me, I thought they’d achieved the promise of “paradise” heralded by Jack’s birth at last, and truly “flipped the entire script of the narrative.”

Ever since they thwarted the original apocalypse, I had hope that they would continue to achieve the same result right up the ladder. Metatron trying to fill the role of Chuck Junior hit his own narrative wall in TFW, while Dean’s battle with the Mark of Cain, and Cain telling him he was “living my life in reverse” and would succumb to destiny by killing his loved ones in the “reverse order” to Cain’s own path to downfall cemented this for me. Dean not only failed to kill any of his loved ones (you didn’t kill your own brother. why?), he SAVED them. He didn’t fulfil the prophecy in reverse, he subverted it. He UNMADE it.

Perhaps I was thinking on too grand a scale, that the ultimate inversion wouldn’t be “God is overthrown and replaced by more of the same,” but “God is overthrown and the entire order of the universe is restructured from the bottom up rather than the top down.

I’d hoped against hope that the conclusion of the narrative would be “As below, so above,” with the fundamental power of human love becoming the new foundation of the cosmic order. It never even occurred to me that “taking back the narrative to rewrite it for ourselves” was not the ultimate goal of Team Free Will, or the ultimate expression of their biggest win.

This whole “well heaven really needed to be rebuilt, there was still work to be done!” seems… irrelevant to me if they’d truly won free of the cosmic narrative. The entire structure of the universe-- including Heaven and Hell-- should’ve defaulted to the paradise state that Jack was literally born to bring to fruition. Wasn’t that the point of his entire role in the story, ultimately?

And if that wasn’t the case in the end, why did we never learn the fate of Hell? Was it just… irrelevant and unchanged after this? Or just… abandoned as a concept entirely? It’s just strange to me to put such a focus on heaven being the sole sphere of import in the end that it undercuts the essential humanity of the narrative for me.

The story itself had kept Heaven on a back burner for years, only occasionally mentioning that the structure of the place was falling further and further into disrepair with a dwindling force of angels struggling to keep the walls in place at all, that it seems like it could’ve been an afterthought at the end of the series rather than a focus so large it required the death of both main characters to make sure we all understood that Heaven Had Changed Now. Because TFW had never been fighting to make Heaven right. They’d been fighting to save the world itself, for humanity to all have a chance to live their lives as their own.

And we didn’t need to see that in the final hope they might get their own lives on Earth to explore. In the end, the fundamental narrative that Life On Earth was dictated by the cosmic structure of creation was never fully subverted. And for me, that’s the main reason I just… can’t accept the finale. It wasn’t a victory of free will and humanity, in the end it was just more of the same.

I appreciate the attempts to take the essential bones of the story we did get and apply a different polish to the surface of the skeleton, but to me it still feels like we’re looking at completely different beasts in the end. Like… to me this was as jarring a revelation as those drawing of modern animals reimagined as dinosaurs entirely based on their skeletons. Like, all along the narrative told me I was looking at a swan. They told me this skeleton they’re building out from is definitely a swan, without a doubt. I know what a swan looks like-- a graceful feather-covered bird with magnificent wings. I trusted that in the end it would be at least remotely swan-looking. And then the finale ended up looking like this

and I just don’t even know where everything went so wrong. Or maybe all along I just assumed they actually knew what a swan looked like, but weren’t sure they could actually pull it off and settled for whatever the heck this is instead. Either way, I’m actually kinda grateful to the finale for being so entirely disappointing on every level, because otherwise I probably would’ve tried to adopt the monstrosity of it anyway. And I’m really, really glad I don’t have to.

#spn 15.20 #spn cosmology #heaven hell purgatory and the empty #and this is why no amount of narrative defense of the finale is capable of making me feel any better about it #i admit i thought too big... but it was all right there in the narrative to see #oh well at least all i have to do to hold on to my grandest notion of the universe is throw out the finale :'D

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whereisten · 4 years

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ghouls just wanna have fun (A Creature Feature Story)

A Taeil fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: After your date ends up being a dud, you stumbled upon an unusual movie theater and its most appealing visitor, Moon Taeil.

Pairing: Ghost! Taeil x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, pinch of smut, drama, fantasy, horror

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: gore mention, death mention, smut: masturbation mention

(A/N: Hi! Special shoutout to the Creature Feature readers. I love you...It’s almost one year to the day that I posted Part 1 (I know: where the hell is the rest of it?). Rest assured, the series will continue in November. This Halloween series has gotten me out of my funk. I hope you enjoy this story. And to newcomers, welcome! This story can be read alone, if you'd like, but I think you’d enjoy this more if you read my Creature Feature updates! Anyways: SHOUTOUT TO MY BEST FRIEND AND PARTNER IN CRIME/WRITING KRYS. SHE CREATED ANOTHER SPECTACULAR MOODBOARD FOR ME. SHE’S MADE SEVERAL FOR ME. AND I AM SO SPOILED. HER BRILLIANT BRAIN AND VISION DESERVE ALL OF THE LOVE. SEND IT HER WAY. We hope you enjoy this installment and our upcoming posts! Thank you for all of the love in our stories so far!

___

“Jaebum, I’m not going. Let me off here,” you demanded.

Well, tonight was just fantastic. Fan-freaking-tastic.

Your date that your friends set you up with ended up being a bust. He wanted to take you to a house party so he can get high and you could be his side piece for the night. Your friends were all in committed relationships and they thought you were bummed because you felt single and bitter.

No, you were just bummed at the fact that your friends had blown you off too many times for their significant others. That was the actual problem.

But they were doing better with you, you had to admit. They spent more time with you as their honeymoon stages with their significant others had finally dwindled. The set-up was supposed to be for fun.

They even thought that this date could open doors for you.

Doors to what? Well, it ended up being to the stench of weed in the back of Jaebum’s old Sonata.

Jaebum’s car, which included his two stoner friends Jinyoung and Yugyeom, came to a halt at a red light near a plaza.

“You want to leave, y/n? Then here’s your stop,” Jaebum said.

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Jaebum shrugged. “Take it or leave it. I got places to go.” His friends muttered over how uncool you were. The least this jerk could’ve done was take you back home.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Go to hell.”

The car sped off as you stood near the plaza entrance. It was getting colder as midnight approached. So you decided to wait outside of an abandoned Spirit Halloween store so your Uber could pick you up from there. You walked towards the plaza and suddenly…

Bright lights appeared before you that you quickly shut your eyes. You blinked them open, wondering what just transpired when you realized...

There was an active movie theater there, with a giant sign surrounded by bright light bulbs. It read “Sinema”.

What the hell, you thought.

You walked closer and closer and saw people coming in and out of the theater. And then...oh, wow, you really had lost your mind. Little human-like creatures of different colors were flying around the entrance...They were fairies! Their pixie fairy dust landed on your shoulders. You picked off the dust that had fallen on the shoulder of your dress. The texture reminded you of Cheeto dust. It was hard to get off. You were certain your black dress was permanently stained.

Then, a man walked past you and transformed into a large purple dragon before your very eyes. He blew out fire within a few feet from you, you yelped. He set off for the sky and vanished. After, another group of men walked past you, flashing their vampire teeth as they laughed about something. They were all stunning but the one with wavy electric blue hair was the real showstopper. You couldn’t think that too long as people that looked bright and transparent walked towards you.

You thought they were going to bump into you so you said. “Hello? Watch where you’re going!”

But they walked right through you and kept going. Seemed like they got that kind of comment a lot.

You blinked a few times. Did that just happen? Were those...ghosts?

A young woman in her red and navy blue uniform appeared before you. She smiled. “Welcome to Sinema, the premier theater for the supernatural! My name is Haseul. You look like you have a lot of questions. Is this your first time here?”

“I...I…” You started. “Is this really happening?”

She laughed. “Yes...All supernatural creatures and their approved companions are welcome here!”

You frowned. “There must be some mistake. I’m not a supernatural creature.”

Haseul pulled out her phone. “Your name?”

“Uh...y/n y/l/n…” You said. “Wait, why did I say that?” You answered her without even thinking. It was like she compelled you to do what she asked.

She winked. “It’s a special little skill of mine. It’s a part of the job.” She scrolled through an app on her phone. “Well, you’re not a part of the approved human companions list so...You have to be supernatural!”

You gaped. “That’s funny…This is a joke, right? Some kind of Halloween event? Well, you’re a few months too late…”

Haseul shook her head. “Oh, no, this is no reenactment. This is the real deal. Allow me to escort you inside.”

You weren’t sure if that was a good idea but you were curious. You followed her inside.

The movie theater was elegant and modern. The latest video games were available at the arcade. The concession stand was huge. It had to be with the number of creatures that were lined up for snacks. The theater was three stories high. Posters for the latest movies were up. The music that played overhead consisted of songs from the 70s, 80s, and more. Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” was playing. Sinema seemed like any regular theater.

Well, except for the supernatural creatures, of course.

“What is this place?” You asked Haseul. “This can’t be real...I’ve been drugged. Jaebum got something in my system and I’m hallucinating. That has to be it.”

Haseul gave you a confused look. “This place is very real, y/n. I know it might be a hard pill to swallow but you belong here. To the supernatural world. A part of you is connected to this world. I’m not sure why it took you so long to discover that but...you’re here now.”

Haseul’s phone rang and she answered. “Yeah, boss?...Okay, I’ll stop calling you that...Oh? I see. Well, have fun with your boyfriend…” She teased. She hung up and she continued, “Well, y/n, I must be going but if you need anything, you can reach out to anyone who is wearing this uniform.” She showed off her uniform. She looked like a very casual flight attendant. The navy blue skirt was very flattering on her. Her white blouse had a red tie over it. Her name tag had her name written in her own elegant cursive.

“W-wait…” You started.

Haseul gave you a reassuring smile. “You can stay or leave, y/n. No one is keeping you here. But know that you’re always welcome here at Sinema. We hope to see you again.” She walked off to resume working, you thought.

You stood there, confused over what to do. Going to the movies hadn’t been in the cards for you tonight. Much less finding out that the supernatural existed in the same world you did.

Unless this was a parallel world, which just made your head spin even more.

Deciding to stay, you went back out to the main entrance to buy tickets. You heard growls among the chatter of people that stood in line before you. All kinds of creatures stood in front of you: werewolves, selkies, fairies, kitsunes, and more. You felt like the only outsider. For everyone else seemed to know their place…

According to Haseul, the only reason you could access this place was because you were a supernatural creature. And that...that just couldn’t be true. Sure you were adopted but you never displayed any kind of power or ability that would indicate you were a creature.

It was impossible, you thought. A striking young man with long silver hair stood behind you and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. He was tall and muscular. You wondered what kind of creature he was or if he was actually a companion like Haseul described. You turned to him and his stare never wavered. “Can I help you?” You asked.

He blinked a few times to snap out of it. “I’m sorry...I zoned out…” He tipped an imaginary hat. “It’s your turn.”

“Miss?” The employee at the ticket stand asked. Like the young man behind you, she seemed human. However, the red tint in her eyes told you otherwise. You wondered what she could be.

“Oh, uh... A ticket to ‘Spider-Man: The New Kid’, please,” you said.

“That’ll be 12.50,” the employee replied.

Even if this was a movie theater for the supernatural, they certainly charged like a regular theater did. You paid the employee and got your ticket. The ticket stub was actually very beautiful. It was holographic so you could collect these stubs like trading cards, if you wanted.

You hung around too long so the silver-haired boy approached you.

He smiled at you. “Hello.”

You smiled, a little uneasy. “Hi…”

“First time at Sinema?” He asked. The man was stunning with his high cheekbones and dangerous dark eyes. A devil-may-care smile that must have won over a few women.

You nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

“The look of horror on your face hasn’t faded,” he said, chuckling.

You sighed. “Yeah...Well, I’m still pretty stunned.”

He said, “Well, you’ll get used to it eventually. Something about you makes you belong to this world, right? Do you know what it is?” His eyes widened.

It was almost as if he knew the answer. But if you didn’t know, how could he?

You sighed. “I couldn’t tell you. Maybe I’m just a fluke.”

“Oh, I have to disagree…” He started.

A ghost materialized right beside you. He stood closer to you and stared down the silver-haired man. Even if he was a ghost, he was the most alluring man you’d ever seen. Although translucent, his features were striking and not to be ignored. His undercut that accentuated his face so well was bright red, like rubies. His ears were decorated with crescent moon studs. He wore a navy button down and black slacks, like he was dressed for a hot date. His tan skin cast an ethereal glow. “Yuta, give the girl some air. She just discovered she’s not human.”

The silver-haired man named Yuta sighed. “Do you ever stay out of people’s business?”

The ghost rolled his eyes. “Do you?”

You averted your eyes from them and looked at the concessions menu. Hmmm, the Sour Patch Bats looked promising, you thought. You started, “I’m gonna go.”

Yuta was about to call your name again but the ghost boy raised his hand to stop him. “You’re already messing around here too much. Leave her alone.”

Yuta rolled his eyes. “I don’t have to listen to you. I’m the alpha.”

The ghost boy made faces as he imitated Yuta’s voice. “I’m the alpha. I eat the hearts of my enemies for breakfast. I’m Yuta.”

Yuta growled and it was so animalistic that you wondered if he was going to transform into the creature he most likely was. Your money was on him being a werewolf.

Yuta stormed off and returned to his posse of gorgeous and muscular people. They all watched you and you wondered what was so fascinating about you.

The ghost boy followed you as you got in line for concessions. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n...Yours?” You looked into his soulful eyes.

He smiled. “I’m Taeil. The eyes and ears of Sinema. And you’re new.”

“Yup...And I have no idea who I am or what the world is anymore…Well, it’s time for a snack.”

Taeil chuckled. “The Sour Patch bats are really popular but they sell out fast.”

An employee at the concession stand announced over the intercom. “Sorry, folks. The Sour Patch Bats are sold out.”

Everyone groaned and moaned and growled and wailed. Even you couldn’t help the tiny huff of disappointment that escaped your lips.

Taeil sighed. “Well, lucky for you y/n. I’m friends with the manager of this joint.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, are you?”

He smirked. “I know where she keeps her secret stash of Sour Patch Bats. Now she normally hides those away for her boyfriend but I’m sure she won’t miss one bag…”

Taeil led you upstairs to the manager’s office.

You frowned. “Are you sure we can be here?”

Taeil winked. “Nope. But she owes me.”

Taeil moved himself through the front door and unlocked the door from the inside. You entered the office and found a bouquet of flowers on the manager’s desk.

“How did you touch…”

He cleared his throat like he’d debated what he was going to say. “With most of my strength, y/n...Anything to impress the prettiest girl to set foot in Sinema.”

Although your concept of ghosts was completely debunked (ghosts could indeed touch inanimate objects), your face warmed up at that comment. You tried changing the subject. “Taeil, maybe this is a bad idea…”

He shook his head as he stuck his hand through the manager’s desk drawer and rummaged around before he grabbed a bag of the popular candy. He threw it over to you. You caught it.

You opened the bag and ate the bat-shaped sour gummies of lime, orange, lemon, and cherry. They were the best candy you’d ever tasted and until tonight, you’d been deprived of their existence.

Your eyes grew. “These are...Oh my God.”

Taeil smiled knowingly. “I knew you’d like them. See, the supernatural world isn’t so bad, is it?”

You were touched. He was being so kind and attentive. So quickly, too. “No, I guess not…”

His beautiful lips curved upwards as he watched you enjoy the candy.

“What movie are you going to see?” He asked.

“Well, Taeil, I thought you were the eyes and ears of this place. You should know,” you teased.

He laughed. “Well, I don’t. Is it an oldie? Sinema plays throwback movies every week to appease the masses.”

You shook your head. “I’m watching the new Spider-Man. The new actor they picked is supposed to be above all of his predecessors so I’m excited.”

Taeil asked. “Can I join you?”

You pretended to deliberate. “Well, you have supplied me with sustenance so how could I say no?”

Taeil usually kept to himself, occasionally confiding in his best friend. He really was the eyes and ears of the theater. He knew of all the romantic entanglements that transpired. The current feuds between species. And more.

Typically, he was stuck facing his demons and never quite got past the last thing he needed to overcome in order to ascend to heaven.

He’d sought justice so what was holding him back?

And at the sight of you, he felt an ease in his heart that he hadn’t felt since he was alive.

___

Your first night at Sinema was the first of many where you and Taeil bonded and enjoyed each other’s company. You went to the theater every weekend and met up with him. You’d see a movie together and talk about it for hours on end. He’d even sometimes accompany you back to your dorm. And even if you could see him...no one else in the human realm could. So you would have to pretend you were on the phone when you talked to Taeil. Even as he sat closely beside you. Longing to hold your hand.

You wondered just how many creatures hid from you in plain sight. Some of them could masquerade as humans and you’d never know it. That terrified and excited you.

You loved Taeil’s sense of humor, how he showered you with free movie tickets and concessions (courtesy of his best friend’s connections), his wit, his smile, the goofy, fascinated look he gave you when you spoke.

You always wanted to push back his hair and slap his arm when he teased you. And you wondered what those soft red lips would feel like on yours.

But you couldn’t.

The most wonderful person you’d ever met.

And he was an apparition.

As for Taeil, well, he loved everything about you. Your mind. Your curiosity of the world. Your inability to shut away the unknown completely. The way you adapted to Sinema so quickly. The way you looked at him.

He was convinced that you also wanted to kiss him.

It killed you both, honestly.

You told him you were in your senior year of college. You were getting a degree as a nutritionist but you felt unsure about what you would pursue after college. You felt like nothing got your heart racing. You were just going through the motions, making your parents proud. They’d given so much to you so you didn’t want to disappoint them. So you figured getting a steady paying job was a step in the right direction and maybe one day you’d figure out your passion...and how to capitalize off of it.

Taeil could tell you were frustrated and lost and he wished you didn’t feel so down. He saw the light in your eyes. You had a whole future ahead of you. You would find your dream job someday, meet a man, settle down, have his children, and grow old together.

And him? Well, maybe at that point, he would finally have moved on.

Before meeting you, he was fixated on getting even with the man who murdered him and the woman who betrayed him and got the ball rolling.

He told you all about it...Originally, he didn’t want to because the details were too gruesome. But you’d been honest with him so it was the least he could do for you. He told you about his life in the west coast town of Luna, where he aspired to be a producer and songwriter. And he told you about how his life came to an abrupt end.

Taeil’s killer had been none other than Jung Jaehyun, the man whom his girlfriend had cheated on him with. Jaehyun was a member of one of Luna’s most notorious gangs and he detested Taeil. Taeil’s girlfriend, Lexa, didn’t know how to break up with Taeil so she could be with Jaehyun. She was frustrated because Taeil was so sweet and giving. He was so good to her that Lexa chickened out and never broke up with him. She was getting frustrated and Jaehyun was getting even angrier.

One of the nights that Lexa spent with Jaehyun, she let it slip that she wished there was a way she could get rid of Taeil. And Jaehyun was more than happy to oblige.

Jaehyun and his men cornered Taeil one night. He thought he was meeting Lexa for their 300 day anniversary. He got a text from her phone saying to meet her on the rooftop of the Nectarine Hotel because she had a surprise for him.

However, she was nowhere to be seen. Jaehyun took Taeil by surprise and pushed him off of the twenty story luxury hotel.

Jaehyun’s men lingered downstairs and made sure there were no witnesses on the scene. All evidence of Taeil’s death had been covered up. Taeil’s family and friends reported Taeil as a missing person. Lexa had also disappeared off of the face of the Earth. And many wondered if she and Taeil had disappeared to start anew.

That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Jaehyun, Lexa, and his men disposed of Taeil’s body off underneath an overpass. They’d buried his body and washed their cleans of him.

Taeil always thought about whether or not an afterlife existed. When he hit the ground from his fall, everything went black. The roaring pain all over his body that hit him for one moment...Quickly vanished at the next.

Taeil opened his eyes again and instead of seeing Downtown Luna...Only white surrounded him. Surrounded by golden specks.

An angel appeared before him with stunning peach-colored wings. The angel shined so brightly that Taeil couldn’t make out their face. They spoke softly… “Moon Taeil...Born June 14, 1994...Died October 22, 2018.”

Taeil sobbed then. “Please, is there any way you can save me?”

The angel sighed. “My poor child...You’ve been wronged. I want to give you the opportunity to seek justice...And once you have seeked justice and found peace, you can ascend into Heaven and join us. Our Heavenly Father awaits you.”

Before Taeil could respond, he became a ghost. He manifested into another town he couldn’t recognize. It was the city of Mystic. Jaehyun lived a life of luxury and terrorized the new city with his gang. And who reigned right beside him in a God-awful bubblegum pink wig?

The woman he’d loved and planned to propose to: Lexa.

Lexa played around with the buttons on Jaehyun’s designed shirt as she quietly thanked him for killing Taeil. And Jaehyun murmured back a thank you for giving him the idea and for suggesting a good hiding place for his remains.

Taeil felt sick to his stomach. The love he felt for Lexa had quickly shifted into hatred. And Taeil wanted revenge. He wanted to take them both down. But how, he wondered.

It took him a few more months to figure out how exactly he could enact revenge on them. Haunting them for a few weeks was a thrill but he wanted Jaehyun behind bars. And Lexa? Well, Taeil just wanted her to drown in guilt.

And then, Taeil found Sinema, a supernatural hub in the seemingly typical town of Mystic. Taeil struck a deal with the vampires to help them dig up his body. They in turn compelled the police to find his remains and track down Jaehyun.

Taeil owed the vampires a few months of haunting humans who had deceived them when they were once humans. So both parties were happy.

Taeil decided to spare Lexa from prison. Instead, her family, her friends, and everyone from Luna shunned her for having a hand in Taeil’s murder. Although she was never charged, she was as good as guilty as Jaehyun and his men.

Lexa remained in Mystic in a run-down apartment, barely making ends meet. The luxuries she was able to afford before, because of Taeil and then because of Jaehyun, were no longer accessible to her so she lived a life full of resentment.

But Taeil visited her many nights to remind her that more than anything, she should’ve felt guilt and remorse for what she’d done to him.

How she convinced him that he’d found happiness in her. How she made him out to be a fool. And how she discarded him like a piece of trash.

Lexa’s mind slowly unraveled over time and the guilt slowly consumed her each time.

Taeil ate it all up. This felt like justice and he didn’t want to ascend just yet. He wanted Lexa to get on her knees and pray to God for forgiveness for what she’d done to Taeil.

But that day hadn’t come. So Taeil frequented her apartment at night...Having Lexa think she dreamed of him as she slept.

One late Saturday night...going into Sunday morning, Taeil waited with you at the bench for your Uber to arrive to take you back to your dorm. Sometimes he accompanied you to the dorm and talked to you. You’d have to pretend you were on the phone so your Uber driver didn’t think you were talking to an imaginary friend.

Tonight, though, he wouldn’t be taking you home.

You asked, “Are you going to see her now?”

Taeil froze. “What?”

You wondered aloud, “Lexa...Do you haunt her on the weekends too?”

“Not recently, actually...I’ve been seeing her less.”

You smiled. “Taeil, that’s great. It means you’re getting over her.”

Taeil glared. “I don’t need to get over her. I despise her.”

Your smile vanished. “I know that. It’s just-”

He shot back, “Just what?”

You looked down at your hands and played with your fingers. “It’s just...You’ve sought justice...Jaehyun is rotting in a jail cell...Lexa is guilty over what she’s done...And...I hate to say this...But I think if you stop going to see her...There’s a chance you can finally ascend.”

He looked taken aback at your words. “I can ascend whenever I want.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

Taeil looked even more annoyed as he sneered. “Absolutely. Excuse me for wanting to spend a little more time with you before I leave forever.”

His words infuriated you. “Taeil, you...I’m not the reason you want to stay...You’re hung up on your ex. Even if it’s not in the romantic sense...You’re fixated on terrorizing her until what? She begs for forgiveness?”

“And what the hell is wrong with that?”

“Taeil, you’re meant to find peace. You have to let her go.”

“Well, y/n, thank you for your opinion. I never asked for it but it’s certainly never stopped you...Have a safe trip back to your dorm.”

“Fine! Manifest yourself back to me when you get a grip.” You crossed your arms around your chest in anger. He was unbelievable. You were right. He just wouldn’t let go. He wouldn’t give up on seeing that...that wretched bitch.

Why did you let this piss you off so much and why were you overstepping...You had no right…

Perhaps it was because you’d fallen for Taeil and seeing him jeopardize his fate over this woman infuriated you like nothing else had.

The full moon was out that night and you couldn’t help but yell in fury at the sky.

Someone crept up behind you and with his claws, he scratched deeply into your collarbone. “Hey, what the fuck?!”

You turned around to find a werewolf before you. It was a literal wolf on two legs. His muscles protruded like that of a man’s but they were so large...You knew he could easily snap your neck with a quick movement of his hands. His tawny coat shined in the moonlight. His brown eyes watched you, expectantly.

You were about to get on your knees and beg for mercy.

You saw a group of people lingering beside the werewolf. You remembered them. They were a part of Yuta’s pack.

“Yuta?” You finally connected the dots and realized the wolf who scratched you was Yuta. You hadn’t seen him since that first time.

He had been a werewolf, after all. But why had he transformed? Why was he here? Why had he done this to you?

You winced slightly at the scrapes and monitored them as they quickly vanished. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Yuta’s fur vanished as he transformed back into his human self. He was shirtless but his pair of jeans remained on. “Y/n, I wanted to confirm something…”

You frowned. “What?”

“The scratch of the alpha is borderline lethal to any outsider of the pack...So any pack member or...descendant of that pack member can heal from his bite…”

You laughed nervously, confused. You wanted to get the hell out of here. Where the bloody hell was your Uber? “Uh...That’s interesting, I guess.”

“Can’t you see, y/n? I’m the alpha of the Nakamoto clan. You’ve healed from my scratches...Which means…”

You demanded, “What does it mean?”

“It means you are a descendant of this clan, y/n…”

You shook your head. “No...That’s...Impossible. I’m not a werewolf…”

“You were adopted at five months, y/n...Your parents perished in a war against the vampires...Your parents led normal lives as humans for as long as they could...Much to the disappointment of my father.”

“Yuta, you don’t know what you’re saying…”

“I do, y/n. The pack and I have uncovered everything about you and your family history. You’re a werewolf. An unawakened one.”

“No…”

“Explain how your bite healed. The only way you could enter Sinema of your own accord is if you possessed supernatural blood. And werewolf blood is as supernatural as it gets.”

“Yuta, please, you’ve got the wrong person...I don’t know why you bit me and why it healed. Maybe it’s some magic trick you pulled off to please your pack...I’ve had a shitty night so if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home,” you said, checking your phone for the arrival of your Uber. It was arriving.

“Y/n!”

The Uber pulled up and you turned to him. “Just leave me alone.”

___

You visited your parents the next day. You asked them about where they’d adopted you from. They’d always been very mum about the details.

“Someone told me something crazy the other day,” you said to them as the three of you shared dinner with your adopted younger siblings.

Your parents both looked at each other, concerned.

“He said my biological parents were werewolves!” You laughed in disbelief. “How crazy is that?”

Your parents eyed each other again.

Your mom started, “Who is this man?”

“Mom, I believe the proper response is ‘That man is crazy. Where did he get that kind of story?’”

You knew your parents were hiding something and you wanted to hear the truth from them.

Your father scratched his neck as he took off his glasses. Your younger siblings all eyed each other uncomfortably.

“Why aren’t you guys saying anything?” You asked.

Your dad said, “Y/n...We hoped for you to never find out.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Dad, you’re scaring me...Find out what?”

Your parents went on to tell you about the incidents you had when you turned eleven. After you’d had your first period, you began to experience terrible mood swings and throw tantrums left and right around the time the full moon occurred. And when you turned thirteen and the first full moon following your birthday occurred…

You’d attacked a neighbor who was walking their dog.

You’d grown teeth and hair all over your body that night. You’d become a wolf, according to your parents.

Once the night had ended, you’d transformed into a human again and fallen asleep.

Your neighbors never knew that it had been you. Your parents helped your attacked neighbor get to a hospital and they reported an animal attack in the neighborhood. Your neighbor couldn’t remember anything.

But her dog never forgot and hated you.

Your parents got a hold of the adoption agency and they had no information on your birth parents besides their names. Your parents then got in touch with a psychic, who referred them to a witch. They took you to the witch and she told them you were an unawakened werewolf. You were a fledgling. Unless you received the bite of an alpha werewolf and acquired your position in the pack, you were susceptible to these monthly full moon transformations and since you hadn’t been awakened, it would be even worse and dangerous for those around you. So the witch concocted a potion that would suppress your fledgling urges but it was critical that you consumed it each month.

Which explained why your parents were always so adamant for you to come home every month for dinner. They put the potion in your dinner. So you were able to suppress your urges up until this point.

Could this be the reason why you felt so unfulfilled? Because you never explored your true nature? Your parents never gave you the choice to control it.

Your parents had good intentions but you had the option to meet the pack all of these years...And you never knew.

You’d always felt like a part of you had been missing and your trip to Sinema had done the trick to lead you to the truth.

___

Back in your dorm and without having ingested the potion your parents had given, you’d only had a few days until the full moon. You were resolved to speak to Yuta.

You’d gotten out of the shower, letting out a shaky breath from all of the bundled up nerves you carried. You were shocked to find Taeil standing in your common room that you shared with your roommates. They were all away for the day.

“Taeil!” You started as you covered your towel more tightly around you.

“I heard,” Taeil started, worry etched all over his face, “If I could kill Yuta, I would…”

“Taeil, I’m going to him,” you started.

“What?” He asked.

“I’m going to be awakened by him.”

He looked at you in disbelief. “Y/n, what are you-”

“I’m an unawakened werewolf, Taeil. My biological parents were werewolves and if I don’t receive the official bite of the alpha, I’m going to suffer by the influence of the full moon.”

“Y/n, the full moon is in two weeks!”

“I know…” You said.

Taeil sighed. “Y/n, you have a chance to be away from the supernatural world. To avoid the dangers of these creatures. I know humans are terrible, deceitful, and cruel...But the supernatural doesn’t fare better. You didn’t grow up in this world. It could consume you and spit you right back out…”

You were resolved, though. You longed to explore more of the world and to embrace the part of you that had always been neglected. “Taeil, I’ve made my decision. My family has respected it. And I hope you will, too.”

A tear escaped Taeil’s eye. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t left you alone…”

You shook your head as you wished to embrace him. “Taeil, this isn’t on you. This opened my eyes. My path is more defined now...Who knows what awaits me once I awaken? That’s for me to find out.”

Taeil extended his hand out and pretended to caress your face. “There’s nothing I can say to make you change your mind, is there?”

“No,” you said, as you leaned closer to his transparent hand.

He smiled weakly. “Y/n, I’ve thought a lot about it and you were right...I’ve given up on visiting Lexa.”

You opened your mouth wide. “Really?”

Taeil avoided your stare as he stared at the potted plant by the window. “I...wanted to stay longer but...we’re both meant to part ways...And I’m not happy...Terrorizing Lexa hasn’t given me any sense of fulfillment. Temporary pleasure? Yes...But I long to find that peace.”

You cried. “Taeil, I’m so happy to hear that. And you will find that peace, I promise you.”

“In the meantime, I’ll be by your side as you head into your next chapter.”

You smiled at him and didn’t realize your towel slipped to the floor.

“Y/n…” Taeil coughed as he quickly turned red and turned around.

“What?” You frowned.

Without looking at you, he pointed to the towel on the floor.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. But then, you watched Taeil...He was blushing…

“Did it hurt that much to look at my body, Taeil?” You asked, quietly.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“It’s okay...You can look…”

Taeil turned and was shocked to see you still unclothed.

You gave him a flirty smile. “I know we can’t touch...But it doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, right?”

You got onto your bed and slowly began to tease your clit and Taeil’s jaw nearly fell to the floor. He adored every inch of you as he scanned your body and worked his hardest to commit it all to memory.

You could see his member grow in his pants. He immediately gripped his gorgeous length and pleasured himself alongside you.

“I wish I could feel your heavenly cock on my clit…” You told him.

He grunted. “Heaven can wait...This is real paradise...Here with you.”

You muttered sweet nothings to each other and imagined that you made love to each other that day.

___

You and Taeil were more inseparable than before. Because you knew your days together were numbered.

The full moon arrived and Yuta had agreed that this was the ideal time for your initiation into his pack. You would be able to absorb the moon’s power as you transformed from Yuta’s bite.

Yuta invited you to his mansion in the woods not too far outside of town. His pack members were present and they’d arranged a massive bonfire at the center in honor of your awakening.

Taeil was right beside you, much to the chagrin of the rest of the pack members. But what could they do? Drag him out? When they couldn’t even lay a finger on him?

Yuta was dressed in his best tuxedo as he recited the pack’s code of conduct to you and welcomed you into their pack. He transformed into his wolf form and at the brightest the full moon had been, you’d taken on your fledgling form. You howled at the moon and became rabid. Yuta knew what he had to do.

Taeil watched you in concern but Yuta had sworn to protect you. For you would be one of his family soon enough. So Taeil had no choice but to trust him.

Yuta bit into your collarbone and your eyes shifted from their usual color and into a bright amber. You felt yourself regain consciousness and became aware of where you were.

“Y/n, do you know who I am?” Yuta asked.

You nodded.

Yuta continued, “Good. You are now a fully awakened werewolf. Harness your abilities with honor and know that you have a family in the Nakamoto clan forever.”

“Hear hear!” The pack members yelled out.

You’d reverted back into your human form through your own accord. You were shocked at how quickly you could turn back.

You ran over to Taeil and he beamed at you. “How do you feel?”

“I feel...whole...Fulfilled...I have no idea what will happen next but it’s a new kind of uncertainty...And I like it.”

Taeil said, “I’m glad, y/n…”

He started to pixelate before you and his voice began to fade.

Your smile faded. “Taeil?”

“I think God wanted me to stick around for this momentous occasion...Before he summoned me…”

You couldn’t help the tears that escaped you. “Taeil, I love you.”

He cried with you. “I love you, too. I will see you up there...Soon. I’d better be the first person you look up when you ascend, you hear me?”

You wrapped your arms around him and to your shock. To everyone’s shock at the party...You could feel Taeil. He was muscular and the warmth of his body was like the fuzziest blanket wrapped around you after the worst day. He felt wonderful. And you never wanted to let him go.

Taeil longed for the day he could feel your body around his...And it was only at this time when you two had to bid farewell when he could feel you against him. You were strong but at that moment, he held you tenderly. Like you would break at any second. Because this moment was the most fragile. It was fleeting. So you both soaked in the feeling of each other’s bodies as you held each other.

Taeil kissed you and you reciprocated. His lips felt just like you’d imagined them. Soft. Perfect against yours. His kiss was the euphoria you would treasure for the rest of your life.

You released each other.

“Goodbye, Moon,” you teased. You made a play at his last name. Since you were a werewolf now, you’d be highly influenced by the activity of the moon.

He joked back. “Goodbye, Wolfie. Don’t forget to howl at me once in a while. It’s kinda hot...” The cliche of werewolves howling at the moon was actually a common practice for them.

You shook your head and laughed as he faded away. You cried hard that night, missing him already.

Yuta and his pack comforted you as you cried. They celebrated you and they mourned with you. This pack had become your family.

___

Taeil finally ascended to Heaven. It was a lot like Earth but idealistic. Paradise had everything at his disposal. He could go to the movies and have an unlimited supply of Sour Patch Bats. He finally knew what they tasted like. He could get a foot massage whenever he felt like it. He could play his music and sing to his heart’s content. God was a big fan of Moon Taeil.

But the thing he loved most was being able to look after the loved ones he left behind.

Now that Taeil had become an angel, he would accumulate power overtime in order to send blessings to the people he loved most.

Especially to you.

____

You’d gotten a better grip on your powers but you were still a long way from being Yuta’s right hand. You’d moved into one of Yuta’s apartment complexes that he owned. You were finishing up your last year of school, as well. Since you’d stabilized your powers, you could carry on with your day-to-day activities. It’s just nighttime that would be unaccounted for.

One day, Yuta visited you.

You greeted him as you welcomed him inside your spacious apartment. He sat down on your L-shaped couch in your living room as you gave him a glass of water. “To what do I owe the pleasure, boss?”

Yuta never visited his pack member’s homes unless it was important business. Usually, he summoned them to a common area, like one of his mansions in the city.

Yuta smiled. “I see you like your new place.”

You nodded. “It beats hearing my roommates screw their boyfriends every other night, I must admit.”

He laughed. “Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“What’s up? You’re not usually one for small talk...Unless you want to sleep with them...And that girl isn’t here at the moment.” You knew about Yuta’s tumultuous relationship with Sinema’s manager.

Yuta blushed then. “You...Knock it off.”

You laughed heartily, then. You two had developed an older brother little sister relationship. Yuta was able to uncover more information about your parents and your extended family. He’d been extremely helpful during this time, providing financial support not only to you but your entire family.

When Yuta said the pack was a family, he really meant it.

Yuta was mulling over his next words and he gave you a solemn look. The light, breezy mood had quickly vanished.

The power the alpha held to control the room.

He said, “Y/n, prepare your things. The war is about to begin.”

[Fin...Or is it?]

Stay tuned for the next spooky story...

238 notes · View notes

threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence.

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos.

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.”

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him.

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table. He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop.

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock.

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really.

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in.

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit.

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill.

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom.

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT” /end ID]

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin.

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left.

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left.

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand.

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID]

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fic #kye writes

18 notes · View notes

fandomscombine · 4 years

Text

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 2: Family Reunion

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows the collapse of The Umbrella Academy during their youth and having the family back together after years apart for the very first time.

I have mashed up the information and some events from both the comics and the tv series. So a heads up for readers who haven’t read the comics, it was hinted in S2 but in the very beginning of the comics, it’s canon that Reginald is indeed an Alien.

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC: 4786 (never had I written so much for one part before!)

Contains: Angst. Death- Reginald and Ben (so not exactly a spoiler, but while writing Ben’s scene had my eyes water a bit.) Crap childhood and the Hargreeves being a mess.

A/N: You guys are literally the best! Reading your replies and comments about how much you enjoyed part 1 and are looking forward to the rest of the series, really warms my heart!

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

March 21, 2019.

Never had you thought that you would be back here, looking up the gates of The Umbrella Academy, 13 years later.

There was and still is so much pain associated with this building, this entity, this identity of The Umbrella Academy. That you hadn’t seen it coming- well not exactly completely blind to it. Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ upbringing of children-your siblings, your childhood- had always been shit but you had never come close to imaging it to be as emotionally and mentally damaging as it did.

Children at aged 7 finding out they had powers was great. To a kid, it was a dream come true to be a real-life superhero. It all started out as fun and games but soon, training started to be competitions to outshine your siblings-your competitors whist being told to work together at the same time. It was quite a hard concept to grasp as a young kid, but in order to get any attention and praise from a distant father, a kid would do anything.

By the age of 9, the superhero team of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ was officially announced to the world. The group consisted of the 7 Hargreeves children, publicly known as: Spaceboy, The Kraken, The Rumor, The Séance, The Boy, The Horror, and Foresight.

An 8th child with seemingly no superpower, had been secretly tucked away, hidden from the world and too, distanced away from her own siblings. It was though Vanya Hargreeves didn’t exist.

You did try your best to spend time with Vanya and keep the Sunday sister bonding time with her, but with all your training and missions, combined with all her violin lessons and some other private lessons she often go on with in long periods of time - though she wouldn’t mention what they were- there was absolutely no time to be in each other’s presence, so soon you along with the rest of your siblings slip away from Vanya.

At age 10 was a big year for the Hargreeves siblings, they had kind of successfully protected the city of Paris from the chaos of the Eiffel Tower being a spaceship- yes it did flew away but at least the people were saved- The mission became world wide news and soon every move they made caught the public’s eye. With this led to more intense training and additional etiquette workshops to better the group’s public image.

Reginald being a helicopter parent took a toll on the children, who had coped in their own ways. Luther taking the role of ‘leader’ to heart, Diego with his never ending hero complex, Allison using her power to get whatever she wanted, Klaus fell into the world of drugs and alcohol, Five-the rebel who thinks he’s smarter than everyone even dad, Ben into the world of video games, Vanya became ever more quiet and more to herself, and you-a yes person to dad who calls you his most valuable asset that has ever crossed his path, never wanting to let him down.

Things really started to get out of hand at the ripe old age of 13. Breakfast had been a mess, Five had a massive argument with dad and stormed out of the house. You ran after him, caught his coat just as he passed the gate- the very gate you are standing in front of now.

‘FIVE! WAIT!’

‘WHAT?’ He turned, looking angrier as ever.

‘Please don’t leave.’ You place your hand on his shoulder- damn when did he become taller than you? ‘You both can talk this out. Rationalized things out’ You pleaded.

He shook your hand away. ‘Talk? REALLY Y/N? You think good old dad would dare listen to someone younger than him? TO HIS OWN CHILDREN?’ He snorted. ‘You are daft y/n. I thought you were smarter than this-‘ Five sighed. ‘But a guess you are too much of a daddy’s girl to see things clearly.’

‘I know you didn’t mean that’ You stammered, not letting the tears fall. ‘that’s just your anger talking.’

‘oh but I do mean it. Now if you’d excuse me, I have to get going to prove dad wrong.’

Five makes a step forward but you blocked his way

‘GET OUT OF THE WAY Y/N’ He pushes you. ‘I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE ANYMORE.’

As you fell to the ground, you see him blip away.

That was the last time anyone had seen Number Five and his final words still haunts you to this day.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

To make matters worst from having a sibling disappear and to never come back was to have another sibling lose his life.

The media was quick to publish the news. It was all the tabloid and news outlets seem to care about. The headline would vary but all in all still carry the same heart-breaking news. Be it from ‘The Horror dies in mission.’ , ‘The Umbrella Academy loses the life of another of its members.’ to ‘RIP to teen superhero Ben Hargreeves aka The Horror.’

Oh Ben, dear Ben. Why must he be taken away? You thought. Why?

The mission was meticulously planned and prepared for. You were sure to have extracted all the information on what was to go down and what the villains’ moves were from your vision.

You had memorized that every aspect of that dream- you had 2 weeks to prepare. Everyone was supposed to be safe, but why wasn’t Ben?

Why didn’t reality play out as to what you foresaw? You had never slipped up before. Why had the one time you did cost you the life of your beloved brother? Why?

While sobbing your eyes out onto Ben’s grave, a memory of what seemed so long ago came rushing back.

>>‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’. <<

‘I’m sorry Ben…’ You choked out.

‘I’m so sorry Benny…’ Wiping his gravestone of your tears. ‘I—I got you killed. I am a monster. I am THE monster.’ You hiccupped. ‘It is MY job to keep everyone same, to do the reconnaissance, to ensure that everyone in the frontline is safe. It is my power to foresee what could go wrong, to avoid disastrous mistakes. And….and I failed, Ben. I failed. I failed you, dad, The Umbrella Academy.’

‘I miss you Ben so much…’ You lie down with an arm across the lawn. Picturing that is was him you’re hugging, that he is really there.’ more than your annoyingly sweet ass could ever believe. I wish you were here Ben, safe and sound. And if you could hear me Ben, I wish you could forgive me.’

Your eyes slowly fall shut from the emotional guilt you’re feeling but a warm breeze passes through like a warm embrace lightening the heavy burden within.

A soft whisper of reassurance and familiar words brings you to peaceful rest.

‘I forgive you y/n. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

You stirred from your sleep as you felt yourself lifted from the ground.

‘Careful Diego! You might wake her up.’ You hear Klaus say.

All this trauma, stress and was just too much to handle by minors and as quickly as all your powers came, the same goes for the people who left.

Klaus was the first to leave the academy at age 16, who choose to be self-checked at a rehab centre, stating that that was a way healthier environment then this shithole that was ‘home’. Who could blame him? Especially when you yourself were planning to leave.

As much as you wanted to get up and leave in the dead of night, you can’t. You don’t have the heart to leave your remaining siblings behind. No, not in this environment. If you were to leave, you wanted them to go with you, to at least know they would have a good life ahead.

Under Reginald’s watchful eye, it would take time to sort the plan out, but it would be worth it.

And you know just the person to talk to.

‘Heyya Diego.’

‘You’re up to something y/n/n and I don’t want to be in any part of it.’ He says without glancing your way. ‘Not after the pineapple incident.’ Diego’s eyes finally landing on you.

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. ‘Oh come on Diegs! That was years ago! It was just a childish prank—’

Diego gives you the finger.

‘-Oi! It is not MY fault what Luther did to you; besides you were supposed to take the EAST stairwell, NOT the West.’ You say matter of factly, shaking your head. ‘Ughh no, we are getting out of topic. Diego, I need your help and you have to promise not to tell anyone-’

‘You’re devising a getaway plan, aren’t you?’

Your brows scrunched together. ‘How’d you—’

‘I’m not blind y/n, I recognised the look of someone who too is planning to escape.’

You raise a brow. ‘Too?’

‘Yes, Too.’ Diego edges closer to you. ‘Now, why don’t we save the trouble of potentially ruining each other’s individual schemes and join forces. Team up. More brainpower. And whatnot. Deal?’ Offering his pinky out.

You ignored the outstretched gesture. ‘What happened to being a lone wolf huh? I thought that was your thing now?’ You countered.

‘Like a said y/n, the more brainpower, the higher the success.’ He explained. ‘Say, we do manage to get out or perhaps just leave, like Klaus. Where would we go? Where would you? Hmm?’

‘I… I…’ You honestly don’t know.

‘Exactly. That’s why we team up and once we’re out of here. We stick together for a while till we get back on our feet and figure out what we want then go our separate ways.’

You nod, digesting his words. It seems like a solid plan with ample flexibility before deciding on what to do with your life after. But….

‘Okay…..’

‘Okay!’

‘…On one condition. It would not only you and me. We’ll try to get to convince the others to come along too.’

‘What?! y/n no, that’s too many people on the plan-‘

‘More brainpower, higher the success. Your words Diego. Not mine.’ You retaliated. ‘Besides, we can’t just leave everyone here. It’s miserable here. They’re family Diego.’

‘Fine we’ll tell Luther and Allison.’

‘Everyone, Diego.’ You stared him down. ‘And that includes Vanya. No buts.’

‘Ugh.Fine.’ He points a finger towards your face. ‘We tell Luther, Allison AND Vanya. But I swear y/n if anyone of them rats us out or backs out of the plan. We leave them behind. No pity if they choose to stay in this shithole of a house. They are old enough to make their own decision and to face the consequences.’ He leans back to the bed’s headboard. ‘That’s my final offer. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ You interlock your fingers, sealing the pinky promise.

It was easy to get Vanya on board, as she was the child that received the crappiest treatment from dad. Allison was hesitant at first but after convincing her the real world had so much more to give compared to that of the imaginary perfect bubble she created for herself here in the academy with the use of her power, she was on board.

Luther that ever loyal ‘leader’ of the academy would never dare cross dad, the idea wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. Diego had failed to make him see reason and so have you. Luther only came around to be a part of the escape because Allison had agreed to it.

It took almost 6 months. The time has come. You all had saved up enough money to rent a loft apartment downtown and pooled enough to last at least 3 months on your own.

At 1:00 am. All the remaining 5 Hargreeves are to ready with their backpacks to sneak out in groups, boys and girls, and meet at the rendezvous point, Giddy’s Doughnuts. There, a van would be available for them to drive to the apartment.

The boys were to go first, as to let Diego deactivate the security features of the house while Luther stands guard.

It was only supposed to take 15 minutes tops, it was 20 minutes past now. Something was wrong.

Deciding as a team to check up on the boys, you, Allison and Vanya head down to the foyer.

Upon arrival, you see Luther with his hands covering Diego’s face, Diego who seem limp as a log.

‘Luther what’s going on?’ Allison’s voice rang out beside you.

‘I’m sorry….’ He looks down unto the unconscious Diego in his arms. ‘I just… I just couldn’t.’

‘Number Eight! How could you! How could all of you! Three! Seven!’

The room seemed to turn colder by the sound of the voice. You turn and see Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

‘Dad…’

‘YOU ARE ALL A DISGRACE.’ Reginald spitted.

‘But dad!’ Luther pleaded. ‘I was the one who informed you about their plan!’

‘ENOUGH! NO MORE OF THIS FOOLISHNESS, BACK TO BED---’

‘That’s right NO MORE dad!’ Shouted Allison. She glances at dad then at Luther. A frown etched her face as she commanded. ‘I heard a rumor that you couldn’t move your legs.’

The effect was immediate. The lower half of Reginald and Luther stayed still as a rock while they tried their best to break free. But alas, Allison had the upper hand. ‘I heard a rumor you let us go freely.’ At once, both men calmed down.

And to add insult to injury. Allison focused on Reginald and rumoured ‘And you would leave Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves, Y/n Hargreeves and Allison Hargreeves alone.’

Luther’s betrayal felt like a stab in the back.

Moving on and creating a new life from the ground up for oneself was hard but having your siblings with you had definitely made it easier.

It took a while to get the hang of things, being 4 young adults with nothing. You missed Mom and Pogo, but you knew that they, like Luther would stick with Dad.

Vanya was the first to take up stack, she provided the finance to pay rent and groceries with the salary she would get from her violin performances at the local theatre. Soon Allison would also chip in from the money she received from her acting gigs.

Diego showed interest into joining the police academy while you wanted to get away from the lifestyle as much as possible, opted to move across the country and pursue tertiary education-because that was what normal 18-year-old do right? For once you want to be ordinary and what better way than experience what student life is all about.

Though there is one teensy detail that was hindering your application. You were home-schooled by your robot mom. There weren’t report cards or grades that any university would accept. Even if there were, you wouldn’t want to go back to that dreadful house.

Both not wanting to lose your newfound passion, you and Diego had an enormous favour to ask.

‘NO not a chance!’ Allison crossed her arms. ‘It’s unethical!’

‘Yes we know-‘ you replied.

‘But it’s the only way.’ Diego reasoned. ‘It’s not fair for y/n and I to not be able to follow our dreams and to finally FINALLY move on with our lives, Ally. While you and Vanya get to live out yours.’

You nodded along. ‘We ask you just this one thing and we’re out of your hair.’

Allison looked between you two as if to decided whether it would be worth it. ‘Fine, just this once.’ She sighs. ’And this doesn’t get out kapeesh?’ pointing her finger.

‘kapeesh.’

‘I’m gonna miss you so much!’ Vanya admitted.

You pulled both your sisters into a hug. ‘I’m miss you gals more!’

Allison wipes her tears away. ‘Don’t forget us okay? Remember we’re only a text away.’

‘Tell Diego that I’m gonna miss kicking his butt when he come back from his officer training, ye?’

Over the years you hadn’t lost touch with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve all together physically, but you do video chat every once and a while and you have a general tab on each of your siblings. Vanya is currently the 3rd chair violin at her orchestra, Diego had channelled his inner batman and believe to be a vigilante keeping the streets and public safe.

As for Klaus, Diego had told you that he hasn’t managed to keep off his ~happy place~ and had seen him in and out of nightclubs.

Allison….Well who wouldn’t know about what she’s up to. A-list celebrity with numerous critically acclaimed movies to her name, one half of Hollywood’s hottest couple and amazing role model for mothers. Ahh Claire that sweet angel, who says that you’re her favourite aunt, that smile of hers melts your heart.

The last you’ve seen of Luther is when his journey to the moon has been televised a couple of years ago. There’s been no news since.

The rattling of the gate brings you back to the present.

‘AH yes, Miss.y/n. He has been expecting you.’

‘Pogo!’ You exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug.

‘So I’m not to late then? Where’s mom?’

‘Grace is with Sir Reginald, my dear.’ Pogo leads you up the stairs.

Looking around, everything is as pristine as usual. ‘I see that nothing’s change’ You noted.

‘Yes, well I was asked to keep it as it always was.’

He opens the door to Reginald’s quarters. There on the bed was dad, looking sickly pale but still alive unlike to what you had seen in your vision.

Beside him wiping away the sweat on his forehead was mom. ‘Oh, my dear y/n I’m glad you could join us.’ She says as if years hadn’t gone by without your presence.

You reach the foot of the bed. ‘Dad…’ you begin.

But Reginald cuts you off. ‘Number Eight. Glad to see that logical and curious side of yours overrides that irrational emotive side.’ His voice weak yet still holds its signature condescending tone. ‘It is your disposition to the voice of reason and mysteries of the unknown that led you here, despite your supposed hatred towards me-‘

‘There’s no grey area, I do hate you.’

He waved his hand to dismiss your interruption.

‘As I was saying, it is of this reason- your control over the impulsiveness that is apparent to all of your siblings who lack control- is why you are my favourite.’

You scoffed.

‘It is true, my dear y/n.’

‘Oh please. You only see me as a “valuable asset”. Remember?’

Reginald nods. ‘I do, but I believe the exact words were “You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed”. Thus, implying that your ability is the asset not you.’

‘Sure, just rub it in don’t you.’ Rolling your eyes.

‘I hope that you do too remember that also in my own words that you were and still are “the cleverest of the bunch”.’

‘So why am I here, you’re clearly not dead.’ You looked at him again. You’ve never seen your dad so fragile ever. ‘….yet. So there must be something to do with that. Perhaps find your killer?’

On the bedside table, you took note of the cup of tea and medication. Your brain is in super speed, running through ideas on what could have cause him to be so sickly.

‘It could be your meds…..’ You look up. ‘Mom who else has access to Dad’s medication?’

‘Just us dear, Pogo and I.’

‘Number Eight there is no killer. I am dying because of old age, it is quite normal for-‘

‘NO No but the mortality rate is 350 years for the species of—’

‘Ah!’ Reginald’s face showed of surprise which slowly turned into cunningest. ‘so, you know then’ He chuckled.

‘Yes.’

‘Since when?’ He asked genuinely curious.

‘When we first showed signs of powers, some of your notes were written in a language I did not recognised.’ You recalled. ‘So, I did some digging, it took a while but when I found about the secret safe under this very bed and what it contained. Everything became clearer.’

‘Very good. Y/n. Nobody knew about the safe expect myself.’ He looked over at Pogo. ‘Did you know of it?’

‘No, Sir.’ Pogo admitted. ‘Not until now.’

‘Very well indeed. You knew all this time, yet you didn’t say anything. Why?’

‘Because it didn’t matter.’ You shrugged. ‘The only thing that matter in this household was our powers.’

‘Did the others-‘

‘No, they didn’t know. I hadn’t told a soul. It is not my secret to share.’

‘And soon it will be yours.’

‘What?’

‘Number Eight, it is without a doubt my time here is limited. Perhaps as little as an hour.’

Never had you seen someone talk about their death like this. You shiver at the thought.

‘By the fact that you are here now and had seen a vision of me dead means that the block I had place on you to prevent you peering into events regarding me is failing. Failing as my health is.’

You want to be angry. How dare he supress your power. But you stand still as a rock by his confession. ‘why?’ A soft whisper was all you could muster. ‘why?’

‘Because I had to keep my real identity a secret. To prevent you from exposing me.’ He coughed. ‘But turns out, you hadn’t need to use your powers to know that, as what you’ve told me.’ He looked at you with watering eyes. ‘You found that all on your own, yet you did not disclose anything.’ He reached out for your hand to which you accept. ‘For which I am delighted that at least I can say that I have one child, a daughter to be proud of.’

A daughter to be proud of.

You would like to think that you are strong and independent. And those are true. But that small child that all that wanted was to experience a parent’s love and affection. That emotional support of that small child which you thought you had successfully tucked away came clawing its way back to the surface.

‘y/n’ You had almost missed it, wiping away your tears, you leaned closer.

‘Listen carefully….’ Your dad’s chest was barely moving. It was a struggle for him to get the following words out. ‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

You never head what came next. Sir Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Under the setting sun, Reginald looked at peace.

A half moon shines brightly above the house. It had been 3 days and 7 Hours since it happened.

Exhaustion is starting to catch up with you but there is still so much to do.

News channels had broadcasted the breaking news of your father’s death.

You had personally called your siblings to deliver the news, they are to arrive tomorrow for the funeral at noon.

Luther who had been expecting to relay dad his daily report status on the space radio, cussed at you in anger-those were the first words you heard in 12 years- calmed down and said that he will be there in 3 days, in time for the funeral.

‘Sweetie, I brought you some tea.’

‘Thanks mom.’ You take a sip. ‘Hey mom did you think you’re gonna be alright now that you know…. That dad is gone?’

She runs her fingers to your hair. ‘I’m gonna be fine dear, I am stronger than you know.’

You smile at her. You just can’t help but to think what’s gonna happen to her now that your dad is gone. Pushing that thought away-like she said, I am stronger than you know.

‘Now, why don’t we get you to bed.’ She cuts you off before you can say a word. ‘Uh uh. You have done so much already. You need rest especially with the funeral in 9 hours. Pogo and I can handle the remaining task.’

‘Thanks again mom.’

She tucks you into bed. ‘Good night y/n/n. Sweet Dreams.’ She kisses the top of your head. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too mom.’ As she leaves your room, you realised that you didn’t want to be alone. ‘Mom…’ You called out, almost childlike.

‘Yes dear.’ Grace makes her way back in.

‘Well you stay with me? Sing to me until I fall asleep?’

‘Ofcourse dear.’ She smiles, pulling up a chair beside your bed.

The lull of your mother’s voice sends you to sleep with the memories of the childhood before power. When everything was simple. When there was love in this household.

You awoke to sounds of screams and flashes of blue light. You hurry to your window, it shows the courtyard, a ball of blue chaos small black figures.

You pull on your jacket and ran downstairs, the clock in the foyer shows 11:37am. Crap you overslept! But that means…..that the figures you saw were your siblings. There are early….that’s new.

You arrived in the courtyard just as you see Klaus throws a fire extinguisher at the blue light.

‘What are you doing?!’ Shouted Luther.

‘What is that gonna do?’ Allison questioned.

‘I don’t know!!’ Klaus turned around ‘Do you have a better idea?—Oh hey y/n! Nice to see you!’ He ran over and gave you a tight hug. ‘What a family reunion ehh?’

Before you could reply, the ball of blue gave out a crackle of electricity.

‘Everyone get behind me!’ Luther pushes in front of everyone.

‘Yeah! Get behind us.’ Diego chimed in, pushing Vanya closer to you.

Vanya ignores Diego, trying to get a better look herself. ‘It looks like something is coming through!’

The ball of light exploded, the sudden burst of energy was blinding that you had to cover your eyes.

Then nothing, total darkness.

THUD. You heard Vanya scream.

‘Argh!’

The blue chaos had expelled something….someone.

Luther was the first to speak. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Show yourself!’ said Diego.

As a collective group, you walked towards the mystery person.

Your eyes go wide with shock. No it can’t be, it’s impossible. You must be seeing things.

‘Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?’ wondered Klaus.

Klaus looked around and saw that everyone showed that same face of disbelief. Pleased to know that it wasn’t the drugs, he snickered. ‘Now THIS! THIS IS WHAT I CALL A FAMILY REUNION.’

Little Five who didn’t seem to have aged a day since you last saw him,

It’s been years but seeing him looking like he did back when you last saw him, you recall the last words he had shouted at you.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

Five looks down at himself drowned in tattered oversize clothes, wining. ‘SHIT!’

Something is wrong, something is very wrong and you know it.

No way was this all a coincidence for your father to warn you about some impending doom and have Five to reappear 17 years later. It must be related somehow…What’s next you thought……For Ben to come back to life too?

END OF PART 2

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

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lowkeyorloki · 3 years

Text

A Study In Suit, Part II

Summary: You’ve worked too damn hard to get into Professor Laufeyson’s advanced course, and you’re not about to let your pesky attraction to him get in the way. Your professor, however, has other plans...

+ Part I +

-> Read it on ao3

Chapter Summary: In which Professor Laufeyson lends you his shirt.

Taglist (taglist is open! message, dm, or reply to this post to be added!): @myraiswack @lucywrites02 @uada-animus @theatrelove3000 @crystal-28 @country-cowgirl-101 @wallywaffle @girls--girls-boys @maze-lt101

A/N: I have decided to update this story every Thursday, because who doesn’t need a middle of the week pick-me-up? Hope you’re all doing well and enjoy this chapter!

There were a lot of things you liked about your university.

The campus was gorgeous, for one. Despite being a fairly prestigious school, living off-campus was affordable in the area. The professors were some of the best in their fields.

But your favorite aspect of college might just be the libraries.

There were three on campus, each with a focus, and you currently had your setup in the one typically frequented by English students. You were on the third floor, which had posters and reminders everywhere you looked that this was the quiet section of the library. Group projects could head back down to the lobby.

Whenever you can’t focus at your apartment- whether you were scrolling endlessly through your phone or keep getting up to grab a (sad, almost expired) snack from your kitchen, there was always something at home to keep you from work. But not the library. Something about being around other students working and rows and rows of books inspired you.

And right now, you needed to be inspired.

Your paper for Professor Laufeyson’s class was getting somewhere, just not fast enough. It wasn’t that you were worried about the due date. You just wanted to give yourself lots of revision time, a good week or two to go through each and every word. Make it perfect. Tailor it to Professor Laufeyson’s taste.

...Not that you were trying to impress him. You just wanted a good grade, and after class earlier this week, he would be paying more attention than he normally would. You were just taking extra care to remain in the class with a good grade. That was all.

Tailoring your paper to Professor Laufeyson’s tastes… Your mind wanders, thinking back to your professor’s tongue tapping his teeth.

“That’s it.” You say out loud. A few heads snap up to glare at you. You shrink down in your seat. Oops.

You check the time on your computer. 12:30. You have about a half hour until your next class starts. You know you won’t get anywhere if you stay here, so you begin to pack up. There’s a Starbucks in the lobby. That should distract you, and give you a much needed energy boost. You have a lab today, that’s why you dressed in an old sweatshirt and beat up converse. No one important would see you, anyway. It was your only class.

You make your way down to the student-run Starbucks, quickly ordering and standing to the side. Because the quality here wasn’t really consistent, your orders weren’t either. You usually tried something new each time, always making sure to get your extra hot. You hated lukewarm coffee.

Your name is called out, and you thank the barista as he slips a sleeve over your drink to hand it to you. As you’re walking out of the building, your phone buzzes. Without thinking, you reach into your back pocket and pull it out. Nat.

Trying 2 focus but Bruce won’t stop grinning at me with a stupid look on his face. He just ate half of my lunch and I LET him. No clue what this means.

You let out a small laugh. You weren’t sure how you felt about your two friends maybe possibly conceivably having a thing either, but Bruce would be better for Natasha than most guys on this campus. You begin to tell her that as you make your way through the door, the crisp air causes you to shiver a bit. You’re just about to hit send when -

Your coffee cup is suddenly knocked from your grasp, and to your horror, it spills directly onto your chest. You let out the stupidest sound you’ve ever heard, something between a whine and gasp of pain as your extra hot latte seeps through your sweatshirt and onto your skin.

“Fuck!” You curse, unable to stop yourself. You clamp a hand over your mouth, bending over and grabbing your shirt to hold it as far away from your skin as possible. It’s too late. The majority of your coffee is now on your torso, running over your chest and stomach in hot drips that feel like fire. It hurt. Bad.

“I’m so sorry.” you hear a voice. You nod, not really able to look up just yet, and keep your hand over your mouth so whoever did this can’t hear your chorus of ohmygodohmygodohmygod. You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder. “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Wait a second. You know that voice.

You look up, absolutely horrified to see Professor Laufeyson watching you with a furrowed brow. But not in amusement or annoyance like you’re used to: worry. Not a ton. He’s looking at you like the pain you’re experiencing is nothing more than, like, a hangnail. But still. He’s worried, and you’ve never seen that on him.

That, however, isn’t really on your mind right now.

“It’s fine.” you take your hand away from your mouth. Your voice is strained. You stand up straight, still doing your best to keep your sweatshirt from touching your burning skin. You open your mouth to say more, but shut it, unsure of what to say.

“You…” Professor Laufeyson eyes the now empty coffee cup on the pavement. “Do you need to go to the health center?”

“What? Dude, no.” in your frenzied state, you let the informal word slip out. “I’m sorry. No, professor, I don’t need the health center.” They could give you either a bandaid or a condom, neither of which would serve you particularly well right now.

If your professor is offended by your lack of formality, he doesn’t show it. He clears his throat, and takes his hand off your shoulder. It makes you shudder, the loss of contact.

“Do you have something you can change into?” he asks evenly. You’re still looking anywhere but him, trying desperately not to think about how much your chest hurts and how much of an idiot you must look like in front of one of the best professors here.

“No. Professor, I’m fine. I shouldn’t have,” you grit your teeth. Did you really have to get the coffee extra hot? “Shouldn’t have been on my phone.”

You look at your professor now. He has his own phone in his hand.

“Ah.” you say. Professor Laufeyson slips it into his pocket. You’re both quiet for a minute, until the man lets out a sharp intake of air. “Well, um… I have class in twenty minutes, professor, and I-”

“Come with me.” he turns around, and begins walking back down the steps. You don’t move, unsure of what he could be doing. “Come on.” he says, and you listen. It was a demand, one that honestly had intimidated you a little bit, and you find yourself trailing behind him. You cross your arms over the brown stain on your chest as you walk across campus, trying to wrap your head around what’s going on.

Professor Laufeyson leads you into the English building, nodding at a few passing professors as he does. He stops at an office you’ve never been in, pulling out a key and quickly unlocking the door. He ushers you in.

“What?” you watch as the professor shuts the door behind you both. The blinds on the windows are closed, and you look around. The room has very little in it, no more than a desk and bookcase with some textbooks and plaques.

“This is my office.” Professor Laufeyson tells you. “Perhaps you would know if you ever took advantage of office hours.”

“I’ve never needed to.” you grumble. You turn back to your professor. You can’t tell, but it looks like he may be smiling at your retort. Just a bit.

“Here.” he approaches you, a large cable knit sweater in his hands. It’s navy. You’ve seen him wear it before.

“Professor.” you say. “I can’t-”

“Please.” he interrupts you. “It can’t be good for you to continue wearing that. Just,” he pushes the sweater closer to you. “Take it.”

You can tell this isn't an argument you’re going to win, and tentatively, you accept the gesture. Professor Laufeyson looks relieved, and turns around so he can’t see you. You feel your heart speed up.

“You want me to…?”

“You said you have class, right? Just put it on.”

“Okay.” you say softly. Professor Laufeyson sounds angry. You drop your bookbag, slowly taking your ruined white sweatshirt off.

“What class do you have?”

“Pardon?”

“I,” Professor Laufeyson clears his throat. “I wonder, what class do you have?”

You realize this must be your professor’s attempt to make this less… awkward. You swallow.

“One of Dr. Stark’s labs.” you say. You see Professor Laufeyson’s head cock to the side. His silky hair moves with it. You try not to think about this, about the fact you’re standing shirtless in his office.

This was so inappropriate. Your angry skin prickles, as if to remind you that even if that was the case, you kind of had no other choice. You start to tug Professor Laufeyson’s sweater over your head.

“You wore white to a lab?” he asks incredulously.

“It’s an old sweatshirt.” you finish putting the navy garment on. The sweater is huge, reaching halfway down to your knees. It’s soft, so soft, and actually does something to soothe your skin. Your cheeks heat up at the realization this shirt had been on your professor’s own bare chest. Was it weird to pay attention to that? If it is, you mentally decide to forgive yourself. This whole thing was weird.

“Alright.” you say in a voice barely above a whisper. Professor Laufeyson faces you again. He looks at you, and you think you see his eyes widen. It was probably just a trick of the light.

“Well.” Professor Laufeyson checks his watch. “You have two minutes. Would you like me to email Dr. Stark? Explain why you may be late?”

“Um,” you consider the offer as you stuff your sweatshirt into your bookbag. “I’ll um, see if I need you to do that. I can email you tonight, if you want.”

“Yes.” he nods. “Please do.”

“Okay. I’ll just… Go.”

And you do.

“You look cute!” says your lab partner as you sit down. Dr. Stark glares at you. You mouth ‘sorry’ at him (it was that kind of class. If you had to be uber formal with Professor Laufeyson, Dr. Stark was the opposite. He tried once to get you to call him Tony. You refused) because you did end up being late. You stopped in the bathroom to make yourself seem more normal. Professor Laufeyson’s sweater had three buttons towards the neck, and you unbuttoned all of them. You did a classic french tuck - because you obviously had seen Queer Eye - and pulled your hair back. It wasn’t perfect, but it made the sweater seem more like yours and less like Professor Laufeyson’s.

Professor Laufeysons!

“Thanks.” You say. Wanda beams at you. You’re quickly becoming close, the two of you. Wanda was your age, a transfer student. She was smart, almost painfully so, and didn’t hang around many people. Just you and her brother.

You feel bad for your new friend as you start and proceed to continually mess up the lab. Your sleeves get in the way a few times, but besides that, you’re just distracted. By the time class is over, you’re desperate to just get back home so you can think. Or process. That was a more accurate term.

You expect Dr. Stark to call you over to his desk as you file out the door, but he doesn’t. Oh well. That lets you get to your car all the more faster, making some very questionable driving choices as you speed back to your apartment. You practically throw the door open, quickly locking it behind you and looking at yourself in the mirror.

Unreal. This whole thing, this whole day. You stare at your reflection, at the girl wearing Professor Laufeyson’s perfectly kempt sweater and just shake your head.

You walk over to your couch, not even bothering to kick off your shoes as you collapse on it. You have homework - a lot of it, you always do. But your eyes are getting heavy. You close them, letting yourself relax for the first time the day.

You take a deep breath, and you realize that Professor Laufeyson’s shirt smells like him. You didn’t even know he had a smell - how would you? But now, wrapped up in his clothing and in the safety of your living room, you’ve never been more aware of anything. It’s intoxicating, almost, the musky scent of pine and leather. There was a sweeter smell too, vanilla, you think. It’s like Professor Laufeyson is in the room with you. Even better, like he’s laying on the couch with you. You remember his strong hand on your shoulder, and think about how it must feel to be held by a man like him.

You want to keep imagining, you want to hold onto this, because it’s probably the most exciting thing that’s going to happen to you for awhile. But the exhaustion brought on by shock and pain finally takes its toll, and you slip into sleep before you can even set an alarm.

You get to Professor Laufeyson’s class somewhat early the next day. You had woken up to an email from him, one that explained he emailed Dr. Stark after all. That explained why you hadn’t been scolded in front of the entire class. You were also told to look into buying some aloe vera.

There’s no one in the classroom yet except for Professor Laufeyson at his desk. You take a seat in the one you always sit in, taking note of the coffee cup that sits on the corner.

You eye Professor Laufeyson, but he’s distracted, reading some book with an ornate cover. Or at least pretending to. You snatch the cup, looking at the little check boxes on the side. It’s from Starbucks, and it’s the exact same drink you ordered yesterday, except this time, it’s iced.

You’re about to say something to your professor, but the rest of the students quickly start to appear, Natasha being one of them. She pouts at you as she sees the coffee.

“You didn’t tell me you were going somewhere. I would have texted you my order.” she says. You flash her a grin.

“Sorry.” you apologize. “It was, um, unexpected.” you begin to feel someone’s gaze on you. You turn to Professor Laufeyson, and feels a surge of pride when you see he’s looking back.

Your eye contact falls quickly as he stands up to begin the class. Your professor pays attention to every student but you for the rest of the period. Normally that would bug you.

But today, it doesn’t.

94 notes · View notes

dekus-afro-pic · 3 years

Text

The Girl that fell From the Sky

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Summary: You fell from the sky. Literally

Warnings::: Profanity, abusive mother, throwing of glass bottles, cigar burns

You closed the door to your moms beat down apartment. The scent of booze and smoke thick in the air. You quietly made your way to your room hoping that your mother was not in the living room. But to your dismay, there she was, hunched over with a cigarette in her hand.

“Y/n” She spoke. “Look at what you’ve done to me”

You rolled your eyes and tried to escape before she could continue. But with a grip to your arm, you were stopped.

“Let me go” you struggled.

“You’re the reason your father left me. 16 years later and your still here instead of him. I should’ve aborted you” The middle-aged woman spat.

“He left because your batshit crazy”you cried as you tried to loosen her grip on your arm.

She inhaled her cigarette and presses it against your arm. You hiss in response to the burn. You finally tug your arm away and quickly walked to your room. Ignoring the insults your mother spewed.

“Same shit” you huffed closing your room door “different day”.

You inhaled the aroma of vanilla that heavily scented your room. Your plugin air freshener doing the job it was intended to do. Which is to keep the smell of your mother out.

You made your way to your bed, which is covered in unfinished manga books. You absentmindedly picked up the closest one to you and start reading. You smiled at the illustration of All Might and Midoriya. Your smile dropped into a confused frown as the illustration started glowing a bright light.

You run your fingers against the glow, only to make the light shine brighter.

“What the hell?” You cursed. You watched as the light spread throughout the pieces of paper. Your sight blurred as the light shun brighter. And then everything went black.

You woke up to a bright light shining in your eyes. You rapidly blinked and held your hand up to shield yourself from its rays.

“Good” a voice spoke. “You’re awake”

You sat up on the bed you were in and rubbed at your eyes.

Where were you? And what happened to the book?

“Can I please have your first and last name” the voice spoke again.

You turned to see where the voice was coming from. You were met with an old lady. Not just a normal old lady. THE Recovery Girl. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water. You were speechless!

How could this be? Were you transported into their world? Are you dreaming?

“Um miss? Your name?” Recovery Girl asked again.

“Oh shit” you mumbled. “My apologies. I’m Y/N L/N”

The woman nodded her head and typed away on her computer. “Well Ms. L/N. There’s no record of you existing anywhere Japan.”

“Well you see” you started. “I’m not even sure how I got to Japan ma’am.”

“She came from a reality rip. Of course she’s not in the system” another voice spoke.

You turned to see Principal Nezu on an irritated looking Aizawa Sensei’s shoulders. Your eyes widened at the two and you were speechless for the second time today.

Wait. Did he just say reality rip?

“We must keep her here in case she manifested a quirk on her trip down.” The principal spoke again. He then turned to you and smiled. “I’m Principal Nezu. And this is Shouta Aizawa. He will be your sensei”

“I-I’m Y-Y-Y/N L/N” you struggled to get out. “I’m sorry did you say reality rip?”

“Yes. A rip was seen in the sky yesterday” the middle aged hero spoke “Then we saw you fall from it. It’s a good thing that Todoroki saw you and acted fast. Otherwise..”

“I’d be dead” you finished. “Well it’s an Honor to finally meet you Aizawa Sensei”

“What do you mean ‘Finally’?”

———

“Class this is L/N Y/N. She will be staying with us for while as her quirk manifests.” Aizawa introduced. You stood at his side as you looked around the common area.

“Sensei, is this the girl that fell out of the sky” Yaoyorozu asked, raising her hand slightly.

The class looked at Todoroki as the man nodded his head.

“Dude. You saved her life” Denki exclaimed.

“That’s so manly” Kirishima whispered.

“Oi stop fangirling over icy hot” Bakugo yelled at his best friend.

“Silence” the teacher yelled while activating his quirk. “I think L/N has something to say”

It was your turn to be stared at by the famous class 1-A. You nervously smiled at the hero. “Well um... first, you can call me Y/N. Second, Thank you Todoroki-kun for saving me.”

The boy nodded in your direction as if telling you “you’re welcome”.

“Also” you started again. “I think I should tell you why I was falling out of the sky to begin with. I’m sure some of you were wondering.”

The class all mumbled in response. You looked at Aizawa Sensei, who only nodded his head for you to continue.

“I came from a reality rip. Meaning, I’m not from this time”

“So you’re a time traveler” Denki asked.

“No Kaminari. Not quiet. Where I’m from, there’s no quirks. They’re fictional” You stated. “Just like you all”

The class was both shocked and confused. They were flabbergasted. What did you mean they were fictional?

“Hey dumbass what do you mean that we’re fictional?” Bakugo screamed.

“Well dumbass” you mocked the blonde. “I mean that you are all characters in a manga I read. Well a manga I read before being teleported into it.”

“Wow. That’s so cool. And kind of disturbing” Midoriya stuttered.

“Since we’re ‘characters’ in your world” Shoji spoke “does that mean you know our backgrounds, favorite food, and all of that stuff?”

Your face flushed at the question. If you told them yes then you’d look like a stalker.

“Well um... kinda?” You winced. You groaned and squeezed your cheeks together out of habit. Your anxiety was reaching its peak and you felt like you were going to burst into tears at any moment.

“The book goes into detail about a lot of things I’m sure you guys don’t want anyone to know” you glanced at Midoriya and Bakugo. Both had a shocked expression on their face.

They know you knew about OFA.

“Fuck” you mumbled “ I’m sorry that makes me sound like a weirdo. I have no ill intentions to use the information I know against you guys in a negative way. I only know ABOUT you. I don’t necessarily KNOW you.”

The students faces were unreadable. Besides Midoriya who was shaking like a salt shaker in his spot on the couch.

“Well since your quirk is bound to manifest at some point.” Todoroki spoke for the first time today. “I can help you adjust to the new environment”

“Yea me too” Uraraka joined in with a smile.

“As will I” Iida chopped through the air.

One by one, the class vowed to help you adjust to your new life and you couldn’t be more happier. You looked up at Aizawa with teary eyes.

He put his hand on your head and said “you’ll fit in kid”

——————————————

After sleeping in a bed that wasn’t decades old, you woke up to the sound of knocking on your room door. You straighten the pajamas yaoyomomo lent you and your hair before opening the door.

“Goodmorning Aizawa Sensei. Is something wrong?” You asked sleepily.

“No. Here are your uniforms, bath necessities, and some extra clothes. Class begins in 30” He responded. He handed you your items and rolled away in his sleeping bag.

“Never gonna get tired of seeing that” you laughed to yourself. You made your way to the women’s shower to prepare your self for the day. The center of your forehead throbbed but you chose to ignore it.

“Goodmorning y/n-Chan” Mina squealed “you look so cute in your pajamas”

“Thank you Mina” you smiled.

You did your morning routine witch consisted of showering, brushing your teeth, and talking to the girls.

You smoothed the skirt to your uniform as you walked behind the group of girls...struggled with tying your tie. You’ve never worn one before so of course you didn’t know how to tie it! In the midst of throwing a tantrum, you bump into something hard. Before you could fall backwards, you felt arms wrap around your back stopping you from hitting the ground.

“I’m so sorry. I was trying to tie this damn tie. Are you alright?” You rambled. You look up at the stranger and was met with a dual colored stare.

“I can help you with that if you’d like” he suggested.

“Yes please” you sighed.

You watched as his large fingers worked at the tie. He held a focused expression as he finished tying the piece of fabric.

“Too tight?”

“No. Thank you Todoroki.” You smiled as the two of walked into home room together.

You spot your assigned desk, which was covered in cards and balloons, and made your way to it. You sat in between Midoriya and Mineta, who was unsurprisingly checking you out. You turned to face him with a faux smile. “You know it’s really ugly being a pervert. Everyone in my reality hates you”

The grape boy’s face fell. His eyes followed the buttons on your jacket and fell on your breast. You flicked the perverted boy’s forehead out of disgust. You faced foreword in your desk and listened to whatever Aizawa had to say.

“Today you’ll be sparring against eachother. Quirks are allowed. Y/N will be monitoring you and adding necessary comments” The hero instructed. “Go get changed and meet in gym gamma. You too Y/N”

——————

You stood in the middle of the gym with a clipboard in your hands. It was the latch match of class and it was the most anticipated one of the day.

Todoroki V. Bakugo.

“DIE HALF AND HALF” The blonde screamed.

You watched in horror as Todoroki’s right side slowly covered in frost.

“DAMN ICYHOT. USE YOUR LEFT SIDE DAMNIT”

“Bakugo” the poor boy huffed a puff of cold air from his lungs.

“I’m gonna call it” you told the middle aged man beside you.

“No. Let them fight”

“But his right side-”

“Just watch”

Todoroki trapped Bakugo in another sheet of ice, which the blonde blasted out of. Without hesitation, the young Todoroki set his left fist aflame and punched the angry teenager.

“Oh damn” you gasped.

“Todoroki wins. Now Y/n” Aizawa called looking down on you. “Spar with Todoroki”

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. He wants you to do what? You don’t even have a quirk! The teacher pried the clipboard out of your hand and nudged you towards the mat.

“No quirks obviously”

“nO qUiRkS oBvIouSlY” you mimicked as you walk towards the center of the mat. Todoroki looked at you with a shit eating smirk, which faded into a focused stare.

“Ready?” Aizawa yelled. “Start”

The boy charged at you with his fist cocked back. You dodged left and jabbed him in the chest. Todoroki stumbled back at the hit with his eyes widened. “You’re strong”

“Now you don’t have to go easy on me” you smirked.

The two of you exchanged a number of hits before the match was over. The match ended with Todoroki sending a kick to your side, which caused you to fall to the mat.

“Todoroki wins”

“Fucking shit” you huffed. Todoroki offered you a hand, which you graciously took.

“You’re a better sparring partner than Bakugo” the dual hair colored boy spoke.

“I heard that you bastard” the blonde yelled behind you. “You. I want to spar with you after school”

“Yes sir Mr. Boom boom man” you salute. He growled at the nickname and stormed off. You turned on your heel with your arms crossed and walked to the locker rooms.

—————-——————»

You sat in the common area while everybody else were either in their room or out training. Everyone except Todoroki, who was currently sitting in front of you with a bowl of cold soba, starring right at you.

“Can I help you Todo?” You asked looking up from the book you were reading.

“I find you fascinating. You fell from the sky and you’re adjusting well” He stated. Slurping on his noodles.

“This is a better life than my old one. So I’m satisfied” you shrugged.

Todoroki scrunched his eyebrows together. Confusion visible on his face. “What do you mean a better life?”

You sighed as you closed the hard covered book. “Well, my life before any of this happened was complete–excuse my language– shit”

The boy nodded his head as you spoke.

“My father left right after I was born. He’s the lucky one in this story” you joked. A small smile formed on Todoroki’s face. “He left because when I was born my mom got abusive. She drank and drank and took out all of her anger on us. Cigarette burns here and there. Beer bottles thrown, wine bottles on a good day. My whole life story is bull”

“Wow. And I thought my dad was a dick” He laughed. You chuckled at his joke. “I’m sure you already know...”

“Like I said before, I know about your story. You’ve never told me”. You made your way to his side of sofa as he placed the empty bowl on the table in front of you.

“Well it’s really no different from what you’ve probably read. The way he used to breed my mother like she was some show dog.” His face scrunched in disgust. “The way he drove her crazy. It’s really a shitshow. I barely see either of my siblings anymore due to the fact that the thought of them resenting me plagues my mind.”

You looked into eachother eyes as he spoke. The trauma and anger that his bicolored eyes held as he spoke tempted you to hug him right then and there. You arms hesitantly wrapped around his neck.

You felt his tense shoulders relax in your hold as his arms wrap around your waist. He buried his face in between your neck and your shoulder.

“It’s always that one parent who has to be a bitch. That’s why son’s of bitches are a thing” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Todoroki’s shoulders jumped as he laughed at your corny joke.

You pulled away from the boy and smiled. The two of you wished eachother a goodnight and went your separate ways. On your way to your room you see Midoriya and Bakugo outside of your door, waiting.

“Um…hi guys?” You smiled nervously.

“So you know?” Deku hesitated. His hands visibly shook with anxiety.

“I guess I do. I won’t tell anyone. I know you’ll get in a whole lot of shit if I do”

“Like hell you won’t” Bakugo growled “I’ll blow your ass into oblivion”

“That’s a big word for a asshat like you. I just said I’m not going to tell anyone” you growled back playfully crossing your arms with a smirk. You turned back to the baby broccoli with a smile “Your secret is safe with me. Have a goodnight. Both of you”

You walked into your room and fell backwards onto your bed. You moaned at how good it felt to finally lay down and go to sleep.

————————————————

Todoroki was woken out of his sleep by light knocks on his door. He rubbed the sleep away from his eyes as he opened the door to reveal a h/c haired girl with an unreadable expression.

“Y/n? It’s 4 in the morning. Why are you-“ his question was cut off by you grabbing his hand and dragging his half asleep body towards your room.

“Ask questions after I show you” you said. Expression still unreadable. Once you entered your room and made sure the door was locked, you pushed the heterochromatic eyed boy down on your bed.

He looked at you with worry. We’re you hurt? Should he take you to see Aizawa? Or recovery girl? His thoughts went blank as he watched you closed your eyes as a third one opened in the middle of your forehead. He watched in awe as you created a void of darkness in the space between your two hands. Everything in your room began to float as the void got bigger. Even the bed Todoroki was sitting on. His eyes widened as you then ball your fists which caused everything to remain still while they were still afloat. You dropped everything back to their original placements by clapping your hands together with a toothy smile plastered on your face.

“Look Todoroki. I manifested a quirk.” You squealed happily. The boy smiled at how excited you were about your quirk. He’s only known you 2 days but he couldn’t stop thinking about the girl that fell out of the sky and her smile.

“That was really cool y/n” he clapped. You jumped into his arms causing the both of you to fall backwards on the bed. The position you two landed in had both of your faces beet red.

“Uh...sorry. I got a little too excited” you laughed nervously. You stood again brushing off you pajama bottoms with a smile.

“It’s fine. I’d be excited too if I’d just manifest my quirk” he chuckled. “What’s your hero name going to be?”

“I have no idea” you yawned. “We should probably go back to sleep”

“Goodnight Y/n”

“Goodnight Todoroki” You watched as he closed your door silently not wanting to wake up your classmates.

The teenage boy smiled hard on the other side of the door. His thoughts swarmed with vivid pictures of you as he walked back to his room. Maybe Midoriya was right. Maybe he did have a crush on the girl that fell from the sky.

————————

You skipped into the common area mentally preparing yourself for your “presentation”. It was Saturday evening meaning that almost everybody would be there.

“Hey y/n-chan. You look happier than usual” Denki chirped, causing everyone to look in your direction. They watched as you walked into the middle of the room with a toothy smile.

“I am. I want to show you guys something” Everybody watched as you closed your eyes. They didn’t expect a third one to open in the middle of your forehead. They all gasped as everything around them covered in black goo and began to float. Everybody except Todoroki. He was just as happy as you were.

Once you disabled your quirk everyone screamed in joy.

“WHEN DID IT MANIFEST!?” Mina asked

“WHAT DO YOU CALL IT?” Izuku chimed in.

“Guys give her some space” Todoroki sighed pushing through the crowd. “You’re going to be an awesome hero y/n”

———————————————————

You held the bouquet of red and white roses tightly as Aizawa walked you down the aisle. All of your friends were fawning over how beautiful you looked. Even Bakugo was speechless.

When you reached the alter, you hugged Aizawa and whispered a faint “Thank you”. When you pulled away the man wiped a stray tear that had fallen on your cheek.

“Does Y/n have her family’s blessing to marry Shoto?” The officiant spoke.

“Yes. Yes she does” Aizawa smiled. He took his seat in the front row as the ceremony continued.

You wiped at the stray tears that fell from your eyes and smiled at your soon to be husband.

“The couple will now recite their written vows”

Shoto looked you deeply in your eyes and spoke. “Y/n ever since you fell from the sky 5 years ago you’ve always found your way into my thoughts. From the smile you sent me on your first day to the tears you shed when Aizawa adopted you I’ve always been star struck by your beauty. You fought by my side during all my battles. Mentally and physically. I’m no good at words but I mean it when I say I love you”

You didn’t even bother to wipe the tears that were flowing. You just smiled at the man before you. You tried to compose when it was your turn to recite your vows.

“Shoto” you said softly “it’s no secret that I’m not from here. But you and all of our friends made me feel at home. I cherish every last memory we have made. From our late night talks in each other’s rooms to teaching me how to make your cold soba. I can’t wait to make more.”

The both of you were teary eyed as you both slipped each other’s rings on your fingers.

“ I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now-“

Todoroki’s lips were on yours before the officiant had the chance to finish. Everybody cheered and threw flower petals your way.

“Y/n Todoroki” Shoto smiled at you.

“I love the sound of that”

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