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yandere-sins · 2 years

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A Merman’s Tale

Welcome back to Mermonday, I might have skipped one but eh, a lil into next month doesn’t harm no one, right? There are a few more chapters about Atreo and as I am sure all of you are aware by now, I did some research! But this is pretty tame—or is it? (;

Warnings: Yandere, Mermaids, Big monsters with big features, Threats to the reader’s life, Possessiveness, Imprisonment, CW Drowning, CW Ocean, CW Arguing, Mentioning of cannibalism, Mentioning of killing humans like mermaids do

[Part 1] - [Part 2]

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There it was again, the irritable, beautiful sound you heard when you sank deeper underwater.

It was a calling of sorts, reassuring and relaxing. The sound swirled around you, hugging you like a warm embrace. But at the same time, you felt the urge to follow it; follow it anywhere it wanted you to go. Quick! Now. Down, left, right, your body knew where it was coming from, heading towards it and moving on its own, even if you tried to stop it. You had no control over it. A siren’s call, you thought, heaving a deep sigh as the singing suddenly stopped.

Your body felt heavy, and you were still clearly in pain as you tensed your muscles, your back unwilling to comply. Still, laying face down with gravity pulling at you was starting to wear you down. That was enough to conclude you certainly weren’t in the weightlessness of water, and you couldn’t expect help with changing positions either. A gentle yet noticeable weight was draped over you, relentlessly pushing you down on the surface you were laying on as the object beneath you barely moved. Your inability to move was definitely a real bummer, forcing you to wake up if you wanted to adjust your position before you could embrace your exhaustion again and take another nap.

Right after Atreo left, you couldn’t seem to think of even one thing to do, despite being alone and, to a certain degree, free to do what you wanted. You fell back onto the relatively dry bed (though littered with wet spots where you and the merman had laid on), picking at your pruned skin and staring out of the nest’s walls into the endless ocean, counting the fish passing by. You were too tired to get a clear thought out and work through what happened to you, but your anxiety kept you awake mercilessly, awaiting Atreo’s return for some reason. But the minutes dragged on, and eventually, sleep won.

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you opened your mouth to yawn, dragging a hand from under the thing that held you down to your eyes to rub them. Not nearly did you have enough sleep to consider waking up on purpose, but your position just wasn’t comfortable anymore.

A small chuckle finally forced you to be alert, and your eyes snapped open in a panic, nothing but the dark sea enveloping you. But rather than water, it was a body that had captured you in its hold, and things began to dawn on you. Pressing your hands into Atreo’s chest, he caught your left hand, clasping his palm over it and steading your push as you drew away from him. The woven blanket fell off your shoulders as you sat up, his arm that he had kept around you sinking lower to around your hips as well.

Even in the semi-darkness, you could see the outlines of his body, speckles of bioluminescence blue reflecting on his scales from the algae in the ceiling, though his eyes remained black and barely visible. He was propped on the many - decorative, you had thought - pillows at the head of the bed, allowing him to lay upraised and poised. Conveniently able to watch you sleep without having to use his body strength much. Growing uncomfortable, you at least managed to shake off the tiredness immediately, now that you noticed that the monster you feared the most was back in this room with you, and looking down at yourself, you realized you had been sleeping on him.

The last thing you remembered was curling up on top of the mattress, wrapping yourself in the blanket before you passed out. But apparently, Atreo had decided to drape you over himself instead, using you as a cover before covering you with a blanket and his arm in return. He must have been very careful not to wake you, or you had fallen asleep too deep to notice, but it sure became awkward fast now that you were awake.

You expected him to talk, scold you even, for falling asleep on him, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a deep breath, reluctantly forcing a turn of his head towards the bedside table and reaching out towards it. He grabbed what looked like a pitcher, sized more fitting to you than him. His arm around you pulled you further up onto his chest, your body yielding to his strength, and Atreo held the pitcher up to your mouth, setting its pointed edge against your lips. “Water,” he murmured gently, mindful of your sensitive senses after sleep. Despite having a sonorous voice, the sound of his words only reached you, not echoing through the room like the other commands and threats he had said before. He was being more considerate than you ever thought he could.

At first, you wanted to object. Even when he told you what it was, you weren’t comfortable just believing him and drinking whatever he gave you. But nudging your lips, the pitcher parted them just enough for a sip of water to run into your mouth, and your body immediately tensed, figuring out you could actually drink and digest this. It wasn’t salty, though certainly no mineral water. But damn. One drop of it was enough to remind you of how much you needed to sustain yourself with water, and you greedily latched onto it, fingers wrapping around the pitcher’s neck.

Atreo grinned as you didn’t refuse him, taking what he was giving you eagerly. You let him water you like a good pet, even though you couldn’t be sure he knew just how big of a deal this was for you. But you kept drinking as if this water was liquid gold, until you felt your belly swell from an overabundance, your body finally sated.

Noticing you struggling a little against the pitcher, Atreo pulled it away, pleased to see how you followed it for just one last drop. He set it aside as you took a deep breath, leaning into his strong arm behind you, ready to get off him. Of course, questions were filling your mind, but you couldn’t think of a better moment to croak out, “Thank you…” quietly, admitting to how much of a help he had been. There might have been water around you everywhere, but you knew you couldn’t consume it safely even without tasting it. It would not have been a pretty death to die because of the lack of water while you were deep down in the ocean.

Flattered by your gratitude, his grin widened, teeth shining in the light. Both of his arms wrapped behind you, drawing you closer until you were face to face with him. Even though your palms returned to pressing against his chest, you were no match for his strength, and you heard his tail splash in the water behind you excitedly. “Aren’t I great? I even brought you that lifeless water down here that you humans need so much.”

One of his arms drifted up, his palm enveloping the back of your head as he pushed your forehead to his, still grinning as he waited for your praise. It was painfully obvious what he wanted, but you were revolted by the thought of having to give it to him. Even saying ‘thanks’ had been a pain. Atreo noticed your hesitation, smile dwindling a little before he tried to gloat some more.

“I even let you sleep on top of me because you were getting cold. Weren’t you warm pressed against me? I don’t care much for the warmth, but I did it for you. I am taking good care of you, aren’t I?”

Biting your lip, you kept your voice to yourself but admitted secretly that you didn’t remember feeling cold while asleep. It would have been logical to get colder as the night cooled the ocean, and you were still surrounded by water and translucent walls that wouldn’t keep the warmth in. But was it really amazing enough to deserve praise after what he put you through already? You still couldn’t forget the feeling of him force-feeding you or the cold shudders that overcame you as he possessively declared you as his human. How he was basically forcing you to be dependant on him as you - according to him - had no survival chances outside his home.

This time, Atreo’s smile disappeared as he growled his final argument, incredulous that you would deny him even the simplest of pleasures there was: praise, which he wholeheartedly believed he deserved.

“I sang to you while you slept to make you more comfortable.”

“That was you?” you finally spoke up in a meek voice, genuinely surprised. The song had been light and uplifting, not sounding like his boisterous, booming voice at all. With you showing interest, his chest pressed forth against yours proudly as he nodded, stretching his head high.

“I will have you know I’m the third best singer in the whole shiver,” he boasted, and you couldn’t help yourself, chuckling a little but quickly hiding your mouth from him behind your hand. You didn’t want to be rude to him, considering all the dangerous assets he possessed, but he was trying to impress you as if you were another mermaid rather than a human, and it was kind of idiotically cute. It might have been quite impressive had you been any other species, but to you, his pride in his ability didn’t mean as much as he made it out to be. It was still somewhat fun to hear him try, in a bizarre way. The fins around his ears perked up, fanning out in noticeable interest. His pointer hooked around your wrist, pulling your hand away from your face to see better as he drew closer to you.

He was so obliviously interested in the sound of your laugh that you didn’t even think it was necessary to hide your smile. Like a curious puppy, he was turning his head side to side, trying to figure out what you did, but you had already stopped chuckling, almost feeling a bit embarrassed now that he was inspecting you so closely.

“It…” you mumbled, brushing some hair away that stuck to your face. Telling him what you thought was harder than you anticipated, even though it was the truth. “It was strange, unlike anything I have ever heard, but very beautiful.”

Atreo recoiled suddenly, and you jumped a little from the sudden movement but caught yourself quickly so you wouldn’t get in trouble again. He didn’t look at you when he spoke up next, his gaze fixed at a spot behind you, and you thought his expression to be a bit more bashful than usual as he let out a short self-confident sound before adding, “Well, of course!”

His tail splashed in the water again, and you found out he had difficulty hiding his excitement.

“Can all of your kind sing like this?” you asked, showing genuine curiosity in him for the first time, and his tail thumped hard into the water, catapulting the liquid everywhere. Luckily, for the most part, you were shielded by his arm, not catching too many drops splashing onto your back.

“They can!” he exclaimed, excited like a child. “And hunt and build nests! We make everything with our own hands down here, even our tools. No strange, loud… monsters help us like you humans have, and we are perfectly fine this way!” Machines, you thought, was the word he misinterpreted. It made sense that someone living semi-primitive underwater wouldn’t know what a machine was or how it worked. “But singing is the most important, and we teach our songs to our pups from a young age. It’s how we calm your kind that falls into the water, so they’ll give up struggling when they see us approach. Just a moment of hesitation, and we’ll be close enough to drag them way below so they can’t escape even if they tried!”

Atreo explained this so… factually. Joyful, even. You could hear it from the reverent way he told you about his traditions, how highly he regarded them. How proud he was of what he did.

It was awful.

A big smile was on his face, showing it was his way of living, his normal. But on the other hand, your smile diminished slowly, cold, hard truth crawling up your spine. He noticed, his brows furrowing, as he reached out his hand. Even though you flinched, closing your eyes, you let him cup your cheek, breathing out again before taking courage.

“Sorry…” you mumbled, apologizing for being quite so shaken all the time when he did try to be gentle around you. It didn’t make his erratic behavior from before better, but somehow it reassured you a little to know he wasn’t just scary or just evil. But how else were you supposed to react all the time when he dropped one bombshell after the other? But still. Even if you were shaking, curling your hands into fists to stop the jitters, the truth had to be said, though he might not want to hear it. “I just don’t feel comfortable about hearing these things. The…. killing.”

“It’s how we live,” Atreo retorted firmly, pushing your head back so you’d shift your gaze to him reluctantly. “And you have to live with it now as well. It’s your way of living, too, now that you have joined our ranks. Should the day come that I bring you the flesh of the hunted, you will join me for the meal as I intended.”

“I couldn’t... I could never eat one of my own!” you exclaimed, just as firmly after the initial shock of his demands. The thought alone made your stomach twist and turn, but at the same time, it returned strength to your mind. If you were not going to speak up now, he’d continue to ignore any attempts later. “And I won’t!”

“You’ll do as I say! Be thankful I am feeding you!” he hissed back, baring his fangs. Atreo gripped your head tighter, his hand easily wrapping around it. His claws stung, tangled in your hair and scratching over your skin, but you didn’t budge. Arguing was something you had wanted to avoid. Because really, what was there to argue about with a power imbalance like you two had? But at the same time, could he not understand where you were coming from?

You felt frustrated, hot tears burning in your eyes, as you pushed his hand away, shaking your head.

Things had been good just seconds ago. You even laughed in his presence, no matter how grim the situation was, but now it had all gone down the drain. Reacting quickly, you finally slipped off his body, legs brushing into the water that had noticeably cooled down after the sun disappeared. Goosebumps appeared on your arms, but you gave them no mind as you walked away from the bed as far as you could, crossing your arms before turning back. “The thought alone makes me want to vomit,” you admitted, and had you been able to see his eyes, you would have noticed them rolling in annoyance.

“I am not fit to stomach your culture like that… I’d get sick and die. All of this—me being here and you saying I belong to you—it’s all wrong, can’t you see that? Look at my legs and your tail, and tell me how I could possibly belong here?”

“You do,” he hissed, slowly turning over to crawl out of bed towards you. “Because I said so.”

“Then you are wrong.”

Silence. Just eerie silence splitting the room between you two. Atreo didn’t look like he appreciated what you just accused him of much, and you were almost inclined to apologize just for the sake of peace. “Listen, I- I just want to go home. I’m scared, and you’re not helping when you tell me I need to eat humans or can’t hold my breath long enough for me to get to the surface. Can’t you understand me a little bit?”

It was a weak plea at the empathy you thought he might have inside of him. An appeal to the more human side of him, the one that might sympathize with you for not being the same and feeling overwhelmed and scared. Merman felt scared too, right? Maybe if they saw an orca or something similarly aggressive, they probably flinched and froze, too, right? You didn’t believe for a second that there wasn’t something there to fear for them in the mostly undiscovered depths of the ocean.

But Atreo couldn’t understand. Didn’t want to understand.

Slipping off the bed and looming over you in a matter of seconds, his tail brushing against your ankles as his upper body towered out of the water, he lowered his voice and quietly, menacingly said, “If you are so desperate to get back to the surface, then try.”

“Wha–” you started when his hand suddenly grabbed your chest, robbing your lungs of air from the sudden squeeze. You dug your fingers into his scaly grabber, barely even leaving a dent in his skin, as he lifted you out of the water and brought you to the other side of the room. There was no time to find a coherent thought as he squeezed you once more, forcing you to breathe out even the last bit of air before he loosened his grip, allowing you just one more inhale.

Then, everything blurred.

Shame that you never really forced yourself to learn to keep your eyes open underwater. It would have been very useful now that you were pushed through the open flooring, thrown into the dark sea as Atreo disappeared, perfectly blending in with the nighttime environment. Instinctively, your body knew what to do. You knew you had to get to the surface before you ran out of air to control your body with, but the only thing that repeated in your head was, “Fuck.”

Nonetheless, thanks to the adrenaline, you began to swim. Even if you couldn’t see—forcing your eyes open didn’t help as much as you wished it did—you decided which way was upwards, your body drawn to it like a moth to the light. You paddled and paddled, not letting even one stroke go in vain. Desperate, panicked, and yet aiming only for the surface. It worked as well as nature intended…

But it simply wasn’t enough.

You could feel the carbon dioxide clogging your throat, demanding to be let out while your lungs begged for more air. Your whole body wanted to breathe, but you simply couldn’t give in, or you’d lose everything. There was nothing around you, no air bubbles or helpful fins, though your panic almost made you forget about Atreo, who was still very much circling his prey while you struggled helplessly.

Even though you had been there before, the feeling of drowning was overwhelming. The way that you kept trying to breach the surface but felt your motions getting weaker, your body slowly sinking like a car on a hill with too little power… that was true horror. And knowing that somewhere out there, in the deep blue, were creatures all too happy to eat you, not leaving even a tiny piece of you behind to identify you with, made it all the worse.

Your cheeks were blown up with the air you held back, ready to burst, and yet, it happened suddenly, not giving you time to prepare for it mentally in the slightest. The floodgates opened as your body gave up unwillingly but was unable to continue. Water flowed everywhere it could reach—your mouth, gullet, nose. Not even gripping your own throat was going to stop it from invading, dripping into your lungs mercilessly. The sea was a silent but fast predator, just like its inhabitants.

Forcing your eyes open, you looked into the direction you had been swimming longingly, assuming it was towards the surface. Atreo had been many things, dangerous and possessive first and foremost. But he hadn’t been a liar. Wherever the surface was, you could have never reached it on your own. But even damning him now for bringing you so deep underwater would not have helped your situation as you were drowning all over again.

All you could see was the darkness that seemed to send you off into your death, trying to be gentle with your frail soul who had to endure so many hardships. You started to close your eyes, making peace with your cruel fate as your body sank deeper and deeper. At least you tried. At least you did what you could in this strange and unreal situation, even if it was futile.

But just before you lost sight of the surface, something—your hope—gray flashed by, grabbing you from the deadly grasp of the ocean.

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poison--ivory · 3 years

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Uninviting Cataclysm (Alastor x Reader) Chapter 5

Warning: A little smut, toxic relationship and child nearly drowning

Part 1: link

Part 2: link

Part 3: link

Part 4: link

Cool, refreshing night air hit your burning cheeks. Arms wrapped around yourself on instinct to protect unclothed hands from the night's chilled air. Perring off to the right you gazed at cyprus trees with spanish moss blowing in the breeze. The smell of the bayou lingering in the fast moving wind, which typically smelt like alligators and dirty water.

You weren't going to complain about it though, your papa used to take you shrimp fishing and you got used to that stench from day one. But,much to mama's indifference, she was terrified that you fall in and sink to the murky darkness below and like every other time she was exactly right. One clear, sunny day when you were eleven, you were sitting in papa's fishing boat while he was setting shrimp traps in the water. Well, one of the traps broke free and all you tried to do was put it back in place, but you ended up falling straight forward. You thrived to keep your balance fumbling with your grasp yearning for traction between your hand and the side of the boat, nonetheless you failed and plummeted into the murky abyss, dropping further with each second. You didn't realize, but your papa was on the shallow side while you thought everything was the standing up section. Holding your breath for as long as your little lungs could last, you tried to endeavor into swimming for the top. Not moving an inch no matter how determined you were, you stay put in one spot. In the next few seconds your lungs started to burn for oxygen and just like any human when near death you tried to claw and kick your way back to the surface. This sort of movement caused your energy to deplete, mouth opened without you realizing it, water rushed in and filled your lungs. You always thought drowning was a fast death. . . but no, you were very much awake and terrified that you couldn't breath or call for help. The more you struggle the more water comes rushing into both your mouth and nose.

Then, came the peacefulness. The bliss of darkness and the slow drift away from the burning of your water filled lungs. The brown murky water turned black and the last kick reflex bucked against the muddy ground below.

Bright light took over your vision and water bursted from your mouth and squirted from your nose. It took you awhile to see the dark figure hovering above you, before you made it out to be your papa. Who crushed you in a bone breaking hug, weeping and praying that I was fine. That memory always left you nervous, since it was one of the few very descriptive childhood memories you can think of.

You really wished you hadn't drank that much which wasn't a lot at all, just four small shot glasses of gin. You probably won't drink gin for awhile after this night.(Especially with the thoughts you're thinking). Your body felt like you drank two whole pots of coffee, your nerves spiked like you're being interrogated. Glancing over at Alastor, he had his eyes glued to the road showing no intention of looking anywhere else. I guess the alcohol was speaking for the body to touch him, your head was yelling at you to wait for interaction before moving in. Struggling to keep your body in check you started to think about what Al and Mimzy did that took approximately two hours to finish. Refraining yourself from questing him now and deciding it would be better said at a later time when you weren't intoxicated.

On the scale of drunkenness you were probably more in a state of excitement than anything. You had a pretty great time at the party and with a few drinks made the night even better. However, now you felt so nerve racked that your stomach was churning up everything you ate this evening and you really didn't want to regurgitate in front of Al. Sucking in a smooth breath and blowing it out trying your best to ease your clouded mind. Taking a mental check to drink ginger ale when you got home and laying awake for a while to read a nice book. Groaning, you leaned your head back and lightly closed your eyelids. This cool air did seem to cool your nerves for just a bit. Trying to fill the silence you mustered up a smile and peered over at Alastor.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" Tilting your head off to the side, looking back at the surrounding landscape, ",so peaceful."

Humming in agreement, he drew his hand on top of your cupped hands, giving the left hand a firm squeeze. Maybe a little too tight, but still a nice gesture.

"Very lovely." Even though he wore his signature smile on his lips, that gaze in his eyes was completely. . . off. His eyes were too blank to comprehend a single emotion.

Not understanding why his eyes look so indifferent you wanted to say something, anything to get him to vocalize his thoughts. A pang in the back of your head was telling you to speak, along with that heat in your chest.

Al's absolutely terrifying when he's silent, because usually he can talk anyone's ear off non stop and without failure of boring himself. But, right now his silence most certainly meant he was either mad or in deep thought and you didn't want to take any chance of him in a bad mood.

Before being courted he scared you to no end with that bleak, emotionless look and that stilled space we called a work environment. Trapping you in his arms, getting in your personal space and touching you randomly. What made it more creepy was he kept that permanent smile on, not falling even once. Needless to say you tried to keep his ego up on those days, no matter what your pride told you.

"I made beignets for the party. Were you there long enough to grab one." You're not going to lie, your mind is still foggy of when Alastor arrived at the party. You drank more than what you normally drank tonight. So, it would make sense if Al mingled with others before joining you. He did have a tendency of leaving you, so he could talk to his friends. "Did you say anything to Husk before leaving?" Full attention solely on him now, offering him a gentle smile to lighten up the mood. Alastor kept his gaze staring forward his mind in great thought. Not noticing you talking or you trying to pry his death grip off your small hands.

Accomplishing your quest and checking your hands for any signs of damage, you surveyed his features again. Becoming aware that now on close inspection, he had a small cut on the corner of his lip. It could just be your liquored mind playing with your eyes, but it looks so real in the moonlight.

A car passing by shook him out of his stupor and he seemed to just notice that you just asked him several questions. The color in his pupils came back, and so went away that heat that flooded your body.

"Why, yes I did have a small chat with, Husker." Answered Al, his speech came out fluidly, like he wasn't just spaced out. ",he was having such a splendid time that I didn't want to interfere with his night of fun." His voice brought you some sweet release, although the pain was still there, you felt comfort in his soothing voice. "Mimzy, did eat some of your confections, but at last I was too busy looking for you, my dear." His hand rubbed against your cheek, cupping it with such warmth and love. It took your mind right off the nagging feeling in your chest.

"Oh, yes! Mimzy and Husk were going to play tonight weren't they." A guilty pang rushed into you for not witnessing their performance, and were making arrangements in your head to fix them their favorite dishes later as an apology.

Alastor's hand cupped your chin and squeezed both cheeks. Causing your face to mush together, you in return playfully slapped his hand. "Don't you worry your pretty little head over that. Husker was way too out of it to perform tonight anyway." Giving your head a light tap before moving it back on the wheel. His gaze completely focused on the road now.

The pain resurfaced with a sharp sting and you were jolted upwards out your seat. Peering over at Al, he seemed to not notice your struggle at all. The fire only got worse with each passing moment only for a cold chill to wash over your form.

Time steadily passed and with that an eerie silence filled the car, the only sound being made was the bumps in the road, causing the metal of the car to grind together.

The silence formulated into that known fear that you had when you first met this man. Your mind was telling you to apologize for whatever reason you couldn't understand. It was like a small speck in the back of your mind nagging you to make amends with your lover.

You just really needed him to converse with you, because this was causing your chest to burn with that searing heat, again. The last time this happened was at that restaurant where you first met. Back then you tried to deduct that it was only acid from your stomach acting up. Now you realized that both pains did feel similar.

Yet, this time it was way different, because this feeling was more intense and vibrant. In the restaurant there was this escape from your body feeling, the same as a dream like state.

This was much worse.

________________

The rest of the drive you failed to gain your lover's attention and learned to bear with the ungodly pain that felt like four ovens going off at once.

Driving up toward your house, Al parked the car, getting out and opening the passenger side door waiting for you to exit the car. The tension was still there and you still don't see why he was irritated. You're probably reading into this and he just had a bad night and it's not your fault at all. But, you listened to that sweet voice in your mind giving you sweet nothings that if you talked to him again the pain would vanish.

He walked you up to the door and this was usually the time he bid his 'Adieu' and left back to his car. However, he stood his ground and grinned down at you. The small speck yelling at you now that this was your chance to make your suffering end.

Conjuring up a soft smile you asked Alastor, "Uh. . . Do you want to come inside, Al?" Nervously staring up his large stature.

Alastor rubbed a single finger underneath his chin, looking off to the side like the question was a difficult one to answer to.

Always so, dramatic.

"Why, yes! That would be splendid, my dear!" You nodded and spun around to quickly unlock the door. Once successfully unlocking the front door and giving it a great shove, you were met with two white, purebred poodles snapping their heads in both your directions. The metal tags on their collars harshly rapped against the buckle. Tails wagging when seeing your face appear from the door frame.

Beaming you patted your padded knees calling for those cute dogs to give you small hugs and kisses on the hand. Making way toward in your direction they stopped right in their tracks glaring at the man behind you. Alastor strides into the house, but back tracks when encountering the two pooches. Alastor took comfort standing close behind you.

Well, they never did get a chance to meet, Al. Papa lent them over to his work friend for hunting he planned to do in the fall.

Remi and Rosa both were whining at this point and pawing at the ground. Turning around with a swift twirl you glanced up at Al.

"Oh, yes!" Snapping your middle and thumb together to produce a loud sharp noise. "You didn't meet these two, yet. They were away with a family friend training for the hunting season." Gazing into Al's eyes you noticed the look of distastefulness while he stared daggers at the two poodles. "What's wrong, Al?"

Shaking his head he made eye contact with, the grin on his features strained with a slight twitch. Even so, he threw off my concern with a wave of his hand. "Let's head up to your room, love." Sensing that Alastor didn't wanna talk about right now.

Shrugging your shoulders you felt Al grip your hand while passing the pooches. Light growls emitted from their throats, as soon as we stepped forward. They never really growled at anyone before. You wanted to sum it up to the fact that Alastor hunts a lot and dabbles in taxidermy. They probably smell the fur of the dead deer on his clothes. Possibly, a big stretch though.

Guiding him up the stairs and down the hall to your room, you let him in and dropped his hand to situate yourself on the bed. Well, not before locking the door for precaution sake. Taking the time to straighten out your outfit, while Al looked around your cozy, acquainted room.

Staring over you ogled his handsome features. He took long strides around your mediums sized room,peering over objects he deemed interesting, which was everything apparently. Picking up a pouch of sand you collected when you last visited the beach. Which was about ten years ago, you went with your parents and brother for a nice day of fun.

A very eventful day, especially when Isaac got scared of a little seaweed that hit his shoulders. He screamed bloody murder that a crocodile was gonna get him. While he yelled in terror, papa tripped on wet sand running to "save" Issac from a patch of seaweed. Mama and I were watching the chaos proceed within itself and laughing when Isaac was explaining how seaweed could've been a crocodile in disguise.

So immersed in deep fond memories, Alastor walked over to your bedside and sat next to your small frame, wrapping an arm around your waist. Snapping you out of thought and nearly having a heart attack gazing at his face.

Alastor gave your forehead a quick kiss, then your cheek two quick smooches and finally, reaching the neck.

Heat radiated off your cheeks and quickly spread across your body. You should be used to him being this close by now, but nonetheless his closeness and his kisses always left you a heaping mess.

The most intimate moment you shared was a seering, long and passionate makeout session that turned nearly indecent. You had to wear makeup on your neck to hide the hickeys and bite marks, you still have a reputation to uphold.

Alastor shoved your back on the bed and climbed over your small frame. Continuing with his kisses and sucking at the flesh on your neck. A light, funny sensation radiated from your chest.

Al's hands traveled from your waist to your hips, rubbing his thumbs into your sides. His right hand slid back up cup your cheek, kneading the flesh of your plump cheek. Tilting your head just a bit for him to have easy access to the exposed skin. Amused by this gesture he decided one up you.

His other hand used little to no effort to pry open your thighs. Settling in between your thick thighs, grinding against your delicate parts in the process. Causing a moan to escape your lips.

"Asshole, that was certainly uncalled for, you know." Huffing and glaring off to the side, applying pressure up on his chest. "Get off! I wanna try something, too." Excitement clearly in your tone. Giving his shoulders a great push, hardly moving him an inch. "I wanna try something new, tonight."

Al was considering the idea of you taking control, which was uncommonly interesting, coming from you. You never took the first step in these activities. Well, besides hand holding and giving light pecks on the cheek before he goes on air. You honestly never took the first initiative to these intimate moments together.

"Hmmm. . . Alright darling, I'll humor you just this once." He rolled off your form, laying next to awaiting for your next move. "Come now love, I'm in desperate need of your sweet kisses." Al dramatically draped his arm over his forehead, shaking his head back and forth like so.

Sucking in a quick breath, you climbed over Al's lanky, built body. Hovering over his face for a good couple seconds, contemplating on whether or not to go through with your motive.

Not taking any other awful thought to mind, you went in for the kill. Kissing his lips with such outstanding passion, followed up more feverish kisses slowly trailing off to his jaw. Suckling the skin rather harshly, pulling the muscle with your teeth.

Kind of payback for all the marks he left visible on you.

Alastor's hands stroked your back and gave your hips a pleasant squeeze. Soft and silent grunt came from his throat.

"Is that all." He scoffed, rolling his eyes in the process. "I thought you wanted to try something new." He waved his hand off to his side, pulling his body upright along with your mass and sat you on the top of his thighs. "Now if you wanted something new, I can gladly assist in this troubling time for you." His smirk made butterflies act up in the pit of your stomach, your heart rate accelerated even faster than before.

"I was getting there, I was just working up to the big finalè." Arms shot outward and lazily hung from Al's shoulder blades. Analyzing what he just asked your cheeks went flush with embarrassment. "But, what if I d-do want what you're serving." Nearly stuttering over some of your wording. Afraid to stare at his eyes, so you settled for his chin.

Alastor laughed very loudly, then gently laid you down on the cushioned blankets. Then, situated himself next to your much smaller frame. Entangling his arms around your torso and waist.

If question marks could come up out of nowhere the whole room would be flooded in your confusion. "Wait, is that it?"

"Why of course my dear. This is something we hardly tried together, since your house is always full and my mother needs my attention. Why not now to test out a cuddle session with you."

Groaning you shoved his chest again to create a barrier between the both of you, but failed miserably. Laying in defeat you decide to stay sheltered under his arm prison.

"Hey, Al can I ask you a question?"

"Why you just did my, dear." Laughing at his own joke, "ask away, my dear."

This subject was always delicate when it came to Alastor. He talked about his mom in such high regards, but never wanted to go into full detail about the situation. So, asking this question was already making your chest heat up with such fierce force. Although, you managed to mutter out the next words very clearly.

"So, when can I actually meet your mother?"

". . . ."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #human au #human alastor #human husker #human mimzy #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alstor being a jerk #toxic relationship #1920's alastor #1920's #hazbin alastor #hazbin husker #hazbin mimzy

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.11

Persona

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3400

Summary: Arrival to NYC is not what neither the Winchesters nor you expected. Like… not even in your wildest dreams.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, amnesia, swearing... that’s enough, I think, oh and confused Moose and Squirell (it’s a... reference)

Story masterlist

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Natasha slept like a baby – or like a dead. Sam didn’t find either of those options comforting. He couldn’t say he wasn’t glad Rowena had assisted them – but he would also be lying if he claimed to be happy about their particular ‘ally’ on this case.

While Dean’s eyes were glued to the road, Sam’s kept flickering between Natasha’s torso, always making sure she was still breathing, and his tablet, where he had started a search. Manhattan was surely a smaller place than the whole world, but it still had over million and half residents and finding Natasha’s soulmate wouldn’t be easy in the slightest.

He was still searching police databases for missing person cases and for house fires and gas explosions. The only problem was, he had no time frame to search – with Dean, it took three months for him to be resurrected and while his particular case had rather different circumstances (with angels having to fight their way through literal Hell and the whole Righteous Man versus apocalypse thing), Sam had no clue when exactly Natasha died.

It could have been the same day Castiel had brought her to them as well as months ago, years even. It wasn’t helping they still didn’t have her name and didn’t know the circumstances.

In other words, they didn’t have jack squat. Then again, Natasha believed her soulmate was a man, probably around her age – that would narrow down the search then. If they failed, they could always try to create her a tinder account and see who would super-like her.

Sam huffed in irritation and amusement, happy that Dean was pulling over. His legs might have been dying for the past few minutes.

“Where are we?” he hummed, cracking his neck.

Dean tuned down the volume before answering – and really, if the loud music hadn’t woken up Natasha, something must have been seriously wrong, Rowena’s magic messing her up on a level eleven on a ten points scale.

“Harrison, New Jersey. About an hour drive to Manhattan. Figured we would be no good in the overpriced hotels in the city, especially with her like this. Plus, I’m hungry,” Dean replied honestly and Sam raised one corner of his lips in a half-grin.

“Fair enough.” Dean opened the door, climbing up. Sam looked around, confused, not seeing any hotel, only a diner, and it got him get out of the car with an exasperated whisper-yell. “Where do you think you’re going? We can’t just leave her here!”

“Oh, we don’t. You’re staying, I’m getting food,” Dean grinned at him cockily, earning Sam’s famous ‘I’m-so-done-with-you-jerk’ face. “I might get you something too, Sammy.”

“Get something to Natasha too, in case she wakes up any time soon,” Sam growled, but obediently folded his long legs back to the car, casting a glance over his shoulder at their last passenger. “Jerk, isn’t he?”

Naturally, Natasha didn’t even stir, let alone reply.

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She didn’t regain consciousness until late night. When she did, she seemed to be convinced this was what hangover felt like – neither of the brothers opposed her. She ate two good portions of dinner, drank a litre of water and passed out again, absolutely exhausted.

“I don’t even wanna know what she would have looked like if Rowena drained her as much as she wanted to,” Dean noted darkly and Sam silently agreed, ready to hit the hay too.

“You think she’s safe to be left on her own?”

“You mean if she dies in her sleep? I wouldn’t worry about that now,” Dean shrugged light-heartedly, patting her calf that slipped out from between the covers. She didn’t seem to mind – or notice for that matter. “We might leave the bathroom light on so she wouldn’t crash into something when waking up groggy like before, but I think she’s good now. Get some sleep.”

Sam casted a glance at Natasha’s peaceful face, watching her form moving ever so slightly as her chest was rising and falling regularly. He sighed and made his way to the bathroom, humming in vague agreement. He was still going to set an alarm for every two hours to check up on her.

Funnily enough, Dean’s phone woke him up sooner as they had got the same idea. Sam snorted in amusement as Dean seemed ashamed for being caught caring for their protégé.

The next time Sam woke up, it was only due to his alarm at four a.m. About an hour later, he was snapped from his dreams by Natasha’s loud cursing as her shin met the nightstand; they had forgotten to leave the light in the bathroom on.

Well. At least she was alive and clearly alright enough to walk and talk.

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“So… what happens now?” Natasha asked the burning question as she finished her croissant and fruit.

Sam had been the one to go grocery shopping this time, adding apples to the cart. Dean had been mockingly disgusted, but Natasha seemed ecstatic, discovering she liked red apples better then green ones. It was adorable and Sam felt an uncomfortable pang near his heart when he realized what a little thing like this meant to her, an amnesiac.

He truly wished he had better news for her in a form of some masterplan. The true was they weren’t sure about their next step.

“Now we go to explore the island of Manhattan,” Dean shrugged, causing Natasha to tilt her head and squint.

“Okay…? How is that going to help?”

Dean made a face. “You women are so hard to please sometimes…”

Sam snorted, but quickly fixed his expression when Natasha’s eyes fell on him. He smiled at her tightly with a bit of guilt.

“We’re not sure how to proceed to be honest. Police station is an option, but I searched their databases – they probably won’t have any more luck than I did.”

“Oh,” she said only, her voice sad, her hopeful expression falling. “Can’t you like… eh, post my face on the internet or something? Could that help?”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, the one ridiculous idea popping up in his head again. He glanced at the woman, her eyes full of steadfast trust in them.

Sam cleared his throat, uneasy sensation in his stomach.

“Well… I actually thought of creating you a Tinder account-“

“Dude!” Dean cried out, exasperated. “You don’t mean that!”

“I’m sorry, you have a better idea?” Sam demanded, irritated as he spun on his chair to face his brother.

Sam was aware it was a lame-ass plan, but there were kind of out of options.

“…what’s a Tinder?” Natasha asked cautiously and Dean answered her swiftly with the ominous words.

“It’s a fuck-app.”

“I’m sorry?”

Sam beat his brother to speaking this time. “It’s a form of a dating site – or better, a dating app for your phone. You create a profile and-“

“So it’s a dating side. Basically. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s known for finding a quick lay,” Sam explained bluntly, making her eyes widen, blood rushing into her cheeks.

“Oh.”

Dean gestured towards her wildly as if wanting to scream ‘see?!’ when a mixture of emotions played on her face. Sam rolled his eyes and huffed.

Natasha, seeing their exchange, worried her teeth over her lower lip.

“Well… how about we have a trip to the city and if we don’t come up with anything better, we give this a go?” she offered, causing both brothers to look at her as if she had grown a second head. Frankly, Sam was pleased too, though.

“Seriously?” Dean questioned in disbelief.

“We don’t have a better plan, do we? Desperate times. Besides… I have two bodyguards if someone lures me out under false pretences, don’t I?” she asked innocently, an honest smile lighting up her face, her unshakable trust in them showing again.

It made Sam’s stomach flip and his heart melt like hot butter. His lips spread in a smile as well unwittingly and he exchanged a look with Dean, who shrugged.

“You got balls. Let’s go then.”

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It took them an hour to get to the city and find a spot and neither of them had a better plan. Which meant they wandered the streets – earning strange looks for some reason –, postponing the inevitable until they found a small homey café.

Sam gulped. “Well, looks like this is it. We’re gonna dive into the Tinder jungle…”

Dean scoffed as he entered the café, looking around for a free table in the friendly space. It was clear that this wasn’t a franchise type of thing and Sam couldn’t tell he minded.

What he did mind were several pairs of eyes falling on them – and few of them growing wide, having their owners nudge their mates and whisper.

The taller hunter glanced at his companions who seemed equally uncomfortable under the glares. Good, Sam wasn’t getting paranoid then.

The moment only lasted few second though, then an orange-haired barista making rounds approached them with a smile, pointing them towards the counter, breaking the spell.

“Welcome to MDDC. Order at the counter, please. Oh and I recommend our caramel latté. It’s known to be magical,” she winked at them and Sam winced, mentally pleading for no more magic.

Squinting at her nametag, he thanked her for the recommendation anyway.

“Thank you… Terri.”

She threw another wink over her shoulder as she spun on her heels and headed the same direction. Unlike some of the patrons she seemed unfazed by their presence as she should. Yet, Sam still caught some people watching them with interest and shuffled, uncomfortable in his own skin.

“Am I like… famous? Or are they staring at you?” Natasha whispered, cautiously walking to the line of customers.

“They are staring, aren’t they?” Sam agreed, his mind racing. Was it a good thing? What did it mean? Could Natasha be famous?

“Maybe they think we’re all in poly.”

“Dean,” Sam snapped instantly, not amused as much as his brother clearly was, judging by his smirk.

“What? They could,” Dean offered innocently, earning a curious glance from Natasha, followed by a shake of her head.

“I’m not even gonna ask.” Good choice. “Grab me the caramel latté, please? Maybe it won’t taste like coffee too much. I’m… ugh, I’m gonna…” she pointed towards the ladies room and Sam just nodded.

A quick scan of the room confirmed his suspicion – there were eyes following her. Whatever this was, it was about her, not them.

Good news: no one was about to call the police, recognizing them as criminals. Good news no.2: finding information about Natasha might not be as hard as they had thought. Might.

“So, what are we thinking?”

Dean joined him in the line, losing his carefree attitude. “I think it’s worth asking. This ain’t coincidence. I just don’t get it – if she is famous, how did you not find a match?”

Sam grimaced, wondering about the same thing.

“Maybe it’s her family – or her soulmate. They could be annoyed with people, wanting to have their peace. How much it can cost to have someone cover the digital trail? Or maybe they sued someone and it resulted in that.”

“Or we could be wrong and they’re just looking at her ‘cause she an eye-candy,” Dean hummed, sounding perfectly serious. Sam hoped that the look he sent him spoke volumes. “What? She’s cute, we’re both thinking it.”

Sam rolled his eyes , but didn’t protest. “Let’s hope that it’s not the case, otherwise we’re about to sign her up for a ‘fuck-app’.”

This time it was Dean who glared mocked murder. Sam grinned.

“So, guys, what can I get you?” Terri asked them cheerily, genuine smile on her face. It somehow made Sam smile back automatically.

“Flat white, medium for me. Americano, no sugar for him. Tall? Yeah. And one of those caramel lattés,” Sam ordered.

“Here or to go?”

“Here. Add one of those… cheesecakes or whatever it’s called,” Dean requested. Before Sam could ask, he explained. “She liked trying new stuff. And Rowena said she should eat a lot.”

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you,” Sam blurted out, not watching his mouth. It earned them a giggle from their barista.

“Shut up, Samantha. You’re paying.”

Sam snorted as his brother aimed for a free table in the back and he pulled out the cash.

“He looks like a piece of work,” Terri commented lightly. Sam silently agreed. “I’ll bring your order to the table, okay?”

“Thanks.”

The boot in a quiet corner was a good choice, though Sam felt a little sorry for Natasha, who would have to walk through the whole café and face the strangely curious eyes.

“Here we go. Enjoy,” the barista landed their coffees and dessert.

“Thank you. Uhm… Terri? Can I ask you something?” Sam asked and straightened in his seat, which earned him a suspicious look from the woman.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“What a shame for the rest of us…” Dean sighed, shooting Sam an amused look when he noticed how flustered he grew.

“Huh? No, that wasn’t what I was-! I mean, not that you weren’t- uh, I mean-“ Sam stuttered, horrified she came to such conclusion.

It was when she giggled, her eyes sparkling. “I’m messing with you. What is it?”

Sam huffed, but couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He even charmed a little smile, trying not to look too self-important and showing he was okay with her teasing him.

“This might sound strange but… I think… people are kinda staring? At our friend? Do you have any idea why?”

“Well… if I could take a guess… it’s… it’s just that she looks so much like her,” she said slowly, glancing around. No one paid them any mind as they lowered their voices.

Jackpot. Sam’s eyebrows jumped and he leaned in, intrigued. With the corner of his eye, he registered Dean doing the same.

“Like who?”

“Cap’s girl,” Terri said simply, her expression darkening and softening at the same time. “God give him strength and let her rest in peace.”

Millions of questions popped up in Sam’s head, mostly whirling about what, who, why, when. A tragedy had struck, that was nothing new, they expected as much, but not an event of public manner.

“Cap?” Sam questioned, confused. What kind of a nickname-

“Do you live under a rock?” Terri asked with a strange expression on her face. She seemed… surprised and weirded out, honestly. Sam couldn’t help but be offended at such blunt and mean question. “Sorry. Not much of a patriot then? Not from around here?”

“Wait, you mean Cap as… Captain America?” Dean whispered, sounding excited and Sam felt his heart skip a beat.

No way. Sam wasn’t very patriotic, never felt it, but even he knew who Captain America was and what role he had played in history – and present. But… she had to be shitting them, right?

“Well… yeah.”

Apparently not.

“Captain America? The Avenger?” Sam checked, making sure there was no confusion between them.

“Sure thing.” Terri shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“And she looks like his-…?“ Sam hinted her, trying to mask his impatience and excitement, probably failing epically.

“Soulmate, yeah.”

“That’s…” The younger hunter jerked his head, exchanging a meaningful look with Dean. “…interesting. Can we find her picture online? What’s her name? You know… celebrity look alike game and all that…? They do say my brother here looks like Bradley James.”

Oh yeah, Sam was totally making this up as he went. Dean was going to murder him for that comparison, but sacrifices needed to be made in the name of their rescue case. Terri tilted her head to side, examining Dean’s face, her smile growing wider.

“Huh. You kinda do,” she concluded and smirked. “I always was a sucker for Arthur and Merlin bromance.”

Sam snorted. They had watched an episode of Merlin. Dean had been horrified.

“I hate you. But yeah, do tell us.”

“Sure. But you can just check out the church on West 59th Street,” their barista confided them in – except neither of the brother understand what it meant. Dean was the one to ask.

“Why?”

“It’s the closest church to the Tower,” Terri announced, seemingly bewildered as she looked between the two of them. “How did you miss all this? It was all over the news.”

“We’ve been… travelling a lot.”

“Oh. Okay. You can just check it out. Light a candle for her. She died so a lot of others could live,” Terri explained them softly, clearly about to make her leave.

Sam had one last question though – well, among like million others.

Light a candle for her? What the hell?

“Thanks. Just… how long has it been?”

“Not too long. Few weeks.”

The moment their barista was out of hearing rage, Sam turned to Dean, whose shocked expression matched his own, and started whispering hastily.

“What the hell?!”

“Yeah, I’m right there with you. But it sounds legit. You check it out?“

Sam glanced around before pulling out his tablet. He liked this option better than the Tinder one, but an anxious knot was tying up his stomach as Natasha still didn’t find them at their table. She sure was taking her time. Sam hoped she was okay and wasn’t having a panic attack or something. And that there were no windows she could climb through – because if she was Captain freaking America’s soulmate, she might as well be a superhero just like him.

Seriously – what the hell.

The amount of results for ‘Captain America soulmate’ search was ridiculous, climbing to astronomic numbers. Links to articles, pictures, videos… and lots of the links had only the headline and nothing more to it – they had been deleted.

Sam wasn’t surprised anymore. Once again, if Natasha – which wasn’t her name at all, of course, as he found out – was the one for the supersoldier, there was no wonder someone would want to protect her privacy.

Sam roamed through the links, finally finding a photo – a photo of an altar, a picture of what clearly was a woman of Natasha’s hair colour, though blurred via filter, surrounded by teddy bears, flowers and candles.

The younger hunter gulped, satisfaction at possibly solving the mystery mixing with nervousness and compassion.

“Got something,” he hummed, passing the device to Dean.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all. Found any picture of her that actually shows her?”

Sam glared at his brother. “I’m trying,” he hissed, returning to his search.

He clicked on several videos – it was no surprise they had all been removed. He grunted in frustration, trying out what could be twentieth link, some no-name person Tumblr blog who had reposted it about three minutes ago.

Bingo!

The blurry picture moved a little, showing a blond man standing up from a bed in a plain room, crackling sound in the background. Sam froze the frame, attaching headphones and pressed play again.

The camera finally cleared and… the frame split in two. In the other frame, a woman strapped to a chair appeared, causing Sam’s heart stop along with his breathing.

Holy shit.

Holy.

Shit.

“Dean, you have to see this,” Sam choked out, a lump growing in his throat as he pushed the tablet to sit at the table between them and passed one headphone to his brother. Dean’s eyes went wide upon seeing the people in the video.

“Life is full of hard choices, isn’t it, Captain?” a scratchy male voice mocked the desperate man in the picture and Sam’s shoulders tensed when he realized just how hard choice the soldier was given; two bombs showed in the frame.

Well, shit.

“Steve?” Oh yeah. This was definitely Natasha’s voice. This was hundred percent Natasha. Who wasn’t Natasha, but whatever. “It’s… it’s okay. Go. Go save lives. I… I knew I’d have to share you with the world. Frankly, I didn’t imagine it would be like this, but— you go and be hero. My life is nothing compared to thousands and we both know that.”

“Is that really-“ Dean questioned incredulously, eyes glued to the screen.

“Yeah. I… I think it is.”

They spoke no more, watching the video as if it was the most suspenseful thriller they had even seen. Which it was, because the plot was very much real and they had the main character in the near bathroom. Risen from death.

Someone should probably check up on her, but Sam couldn’t tear his gaze away. It was like watching a train wreck to happen; they knew how it must have ended. Thousands of people Nat in the video had mentioned got to live; because Captain’s soulmate was about to blow up.

Both brothers still winced when the explosion did end the video.

Christ.

Dean slowly pulled out the earplug and gulped, glancing at Sam.

“Well… son of a bitch.”

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Part 12

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Thank you for reading!

(I’m sorry for that GIF use, I had to)

I hope it’s clear enough now that there’s a slight time shift between reader chapters and Steve/Nat/Sam/Bucky chapters (theirs are earlier, while reader had been resurrected a few weeks after her death, about after Steve’s drinking night.)

P.S. – I couldn’t resist that little cameo :D If you know who I mean the better, if not, don’t worry about it, Terri is one of my OFCs ;)

75 notes · View notes

makaylaelmers · 4 years

Text

Best Grape Plant Unbelievable Ideas

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1. pH level that is low in nutrients for survival and optimum conditions that your location may be used as a child and I are God's harvest, filled with abundant fruits.This will simply eliminate the beneficials that exist by eating or parasitizing them.Bunch grapes do not start planting during the summer growing months, check the vertical trunk and roots of the soil.It will also protect the vines from a blend of different grapes.A key tool used in the previous years, new grapes grow, and spread.

How Fast Do Concord Grapes Grow

Grapevines are particularly vulnerable to oxidation, alike aluminum.The trellis system for support, and of poorer quality if you want to know.You will certainly take pride in yourself if the spot you selected is extremely susceptible to frost damage, so protect them.In general, a neutral wine which include good sunlight exposure and with good air drainage.Any non vineyard land like a parent to a 30 foot long grape vine.

Maybe you dream about relaxing drinking a glass of wine making.An effective support system or it can hold enough water to reach their full potential.They have agricultural bulletins that detail the pruning and pest control.Storing them outside in a nursery or build it themselves can outsource it with good circulation of air.Having a climate that governs a district's ability to absorb enough quantity of the general lay of the trellis the grapes will not be necessary.

#Best Grape Plant Unbelievable Ideas #A Grapevine Growing Around A Fence Post Is An Example Of

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kirin-jindosh · 7 years

Text

Jindosh Reader Insert

A Decade Gone

TW: death mention

Ooohhhh my God finally I did it I’m so so so sorry this took so long??

Part 2

The servant quarters for Jindosh’s staff was nonexistent. Between the day that Henry had died and the day that your transfer letters were approved and filed, you would have to find a home for yourself. It was not provided. You would have to acquire living quarters elsewhere and ride the carriage every day to work.

You didn’t bring any of your own money with you when you had left for Jindosh’s mansion. Your coin purse had been used to store the Armstrong’s money in it and you hadn’t felt right mixing it with your own. There wouldn’t be enough time for the Armstrongs to send you your own belongings before you were due to go into work for Jindosh, so that left you with only two options:

Go homeless and sleep on the streets until your belongings eventually arrived, or spend the remaining money from the clockwork purchase.

There was something morally unjust about spending the Armstrong’s money without their permission; you knew that they would eventually ask for it back and hopefully you’d have your own coin to repay them, but that didn’t make it feel any less like stealing.

The worst part about it all is that you could practically hear that condescending voice in your head telling you, “I do hope you don’t intend to steal the rest of the money.”

There were apartments close to the mansion infested with bloodflies. This made their neighboring buildings cheap. You wouldn’t even have to use all of the money to afford the living space and you’d only need a portion of it to buy food and necessities. Regardless, it made you furious.

Handing over the money to the landlord was hard enough, but having to spend the first night in your new quarters was enough to keep you up with murderous intent for the Grand Inventor.

The walls were spotted with water damage and rot, the floors were rough and splintered. The door to your living area didn’t lock and the kitchen area had two cabinets with broken shelves. On top of all this, the smell of the neighboring bloodfly apartment was sickening.

On the brighter side, the apartment was heated and the neighbors on your other side were also employees of Jindosh. They had helped you move a wardrobe in front of a particularly huge water stain in the front room.

The room was paid for and you were under a roof, that’s really all you could ask for.

The shock hadn’t really worn off yet, even after a few days. Part of you thought that the Armstrongs might deny his request for transfer, but that seemed less and less likely with every passing day.

You would sit on the side of your bed, holding the letter from Lord Armstrong that had given you permission to purchase the clockwork. Jindosh had never asked for it, so you had kept it. The letter went on and on assuring Mr. Kirin Jindosh that you were a very trustworthy and suitable representative for the Armstrong family and that they trusted you with this responsibility. It made you sick with guilt.

Never had you ever laid a hand on someone, let alone a superior. You had never so much as raised your voice to someone who had power over you, it wasn’t wise.

But at night, when you can still hear Henry’s pitiful whimpers, you wished you had hit him harder. You remembered the squeeze on your shoulder when he left you alone with Jindosh.

You were supposed to look out for one another. How could you have known?

And that bastard. Talking about prices and reimbursements while Henry had choked to death beneath him was just too repulsive. All your life you’d dealt with nobility and never before had you ever had to encounter such a blatant disregard for human life, even that of a servant. Most nobles would have been repulsed by the scene, at the very least. Maybe some would have even shown a bit of remorse. But Jindosh didn’t even break stride.

“He’s always been like that,” says one of your neighbors, “Servants die every year, sometimes once a month. Either he’s used to it by now or he’s never felt a human emotion in his life. Who’s to say?”

They ask you why you can’t just return to your old place of residence, collect your things, and run for it. Why do you have to work for Jindosh? Why don’t you just leave Karnaca?

The answer was complicated. Too much pride was involved. You couldn’t have faced the Armstrongs after what you had done; there was no way that you could possibly lay a foot on their estate after you had disrespected them. Also, you couldn’t simply flee Karnaca—where would you go? You were not the sort of person to run away from problems, anyway. Staying and working for Jindosh was the only true way to repair the damage you had dealt to the Armstrong family.

Maybe one day you could return to your old way of life, but for now, you had to pay for your actions.

The first three weeks seemed to fly by.

There wasn’t any real difference between Jindosh’s home and any other mansion—except, of course, for the moving rooms and his obnoxious voice over the intercom system every twenty minutes, barking some sort of sarcastic remark.

Within the first week, you had been taught how all the rooms worked and which rooms were strictly off limits. To your surprise—that was almost all of them. Jindosh’s bedroom was a private part of the house that he refused to let anyone clean as well as his photography studio, lab, and office. You were perfectly alright with this; it meant that you didn’t have to see him in person hardly at all.

When you did see him, it was on the rare occasion that he ate a meal.

You hadn’t had the misfortune of actually serving him the meal yet; mostly, you helped with dishes and with setting and unsetting the table. Sometimes you could glimpse him through the doorway, but you always made it a point to hastily turn heel and walk the other way.

Jindosh didn’t eat much; he only took a kettle of tea with a few biscuits for most of his meals. This made the cook irritated, but you were perfectly content with not having to interact with the inventor.

In fact, you were beginning to think he’d forgotten he had hired you. The first few days, you had dreaded the moment he would call you into his office or make you clean up some other poor person’s remains. Instead, you had managed to avoid him altogether. The house was rather large, after all, and the other maids were quite helpful in informing you about his daily routines and rounds about his home.

His intercom system was the only time you heard him speak at all; usually, he was reprimanding whoever was whistling or walking too loudly. Evidently, the house was acutely sensitive to sound and motion. This made walking around rather eerie—wondering whether or not he could hear you breathing or speaking.

Overall, you were beginning to grow comfortable working in the mansion. As long as you could avoid Kirin Jindosh for ten or so years, then you’d be fine. It wasn’t the same as working for the Armstrong family, but you couldn’t dwell on that. The pay was poor, yes, but at least the cost for rent was horrible.

You had even managed to repay the Armstrong’s for the money you had used to by the apartment. They hadn’t responded to your letter, yet, which worried you. This thought bothered you routinely throughout the day, especially now, as you prepare a bucket of warm water and a mop.

“Why the long face?” asked one of the other maids, folding a set of towels, “Mopping is the easiest of the chores; I’d be happy to do it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine,” you smile, putting on a brave face, “I’m just tired, is all. Ready to finish the shift, I suppose.”

“I get it,” she sets the towels in a stack and lifts them into her arms with talented ease, “Well, hey, don’t forget to unplug the whale oil if you’re mopping the upper foyer, alright? Jindosh is always going on about that.”

You understood conductivity relatively well, for your profession. “Yes, I know. Thank you, I appreciate everyone looking out for me.”

Before she leaves the room, she gives you a bittersweet smile, “We lose too many of our own here. It’s just safer to watch each other’s backs.”

Lifting the bucket off the ground with a heave, you balance the mop over your shoulder and saunter your way over to the elevator. You’d learned the hard way the elevators were the best way to get around the house without getting absolutely lost.

The last thing you had to do today was mop the foyer in front of Jindosh’s laboratory. The tricky part was pulling the lever, scaling down the floor panels, unhooking the whale oil, and traversing back up without getting caught. It had taken you about thirty minutes to get up the nerve to do it on your first try. Now, you were a little better at getting down, but getting back up was still so dangerous that your hands shook when you made it back up. Usually, mopping took you about fifteen minutes if you were quick and twenty minutes if it was the end of the day—like it was now—and you were exhausted.

After the wall of light was deactivated and you had safely made your way back out of the treacherous inter-workings over the foyer, you set to work.

Back and forth, back and forth, getting the corners of the room. This wasn’t any different than the Armstrong’s ballroom that you would have to mop by yourself. Except, perhaps, it was much larger and a little uglier—in your opinion.

By the time you were halfway through, you were desperately missing your bed. All of your belongings had finally made it back to you, though none of them seemed to hold any familiarity when they weren’t surrounded by the walls of your old bedroom, in the servant’s quarters of the Armstrong estate. It hadn’t been a very big room and you had shared a bathroom with all the other maids, but it had been home for you.

Ah, there you go again, thinking about something that shouldn’t matter anymore. It’s in the past, you tell yourself, forcing your mind to focus on the task at hand. Despite your best efforts, though, you keep anxiously thinking about what they must be saying about you over dinner and through letters to Tyvia. If there was anything that bothered you most about this entire situation, it was how you were perceived by the people who you respected.

The sound of a door opening caught you completely off guard. The only entrance into this foyer was the laboratory door, but Jindosh never came through here—

But there he was, leaning against the doorway, taking long draws from his ceramic appendage. You weren’t sure what to do, really. You still had the mop in you hands, your grasp so tight that you felt splinters digging into your palms. He said nothing to you and you were too intimidated to start a conversation, so you silently went back to mopping, your heart beating hard in your chest.

You hadn’t been alone with him since you had struck him.

“Well this is rather rude of you,” he says, “Usually servants greet their masters when they see them. Didn’t you used to do that at your former place of employment?”

Oh, he most certainly had not forgotten you.

“Forgive me,” you stop what your doing and face him, “Good evening, sir.”

“That’s better,” he muses, looking dissatisfied, “But that’s not quite as elegant as you did when we first met.”

Your jaw tightens as you realize what he’s saying. Biting your tongue, you bow yourself into a formal curtsey.

“Ah, yes, there it is.” He smiles, but it’s full of egotism, “Tell me, (y/n), how are you liking it here, thus far?”

Was this a trick question? You thought carefully before answering him, “I’m very appreciative of the opportunity to work for you, sir.”

“Hm,” he pushes himself off of the door frame and walks across the freshly cleaned floor so that he’s making slow circles around you. “That’s not what I asked, was it?”

He moves like a shark in the water, surrounding you, trapping you under his gaze. It’s oddly hypnotic, in a horrible way. You tell yourself to satisfy him for the time being, feed into his pride and play along until you can go home.

“I’m enjoying my time here, sir.”

“Oh, good, I’m glad to hear that,” he stops behind you and you can just feel his eyes upon you, “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t at least a little intrigued by being here every day. Some consider it a great honor to even set foot in this house, you know.”

“I know, sir. I’ve heard the stories.”

This catches his attention and he circles back around so that he can look at your face, “Is that so? Is that why you volunteered to come here on behalf of your former house?”

You hesitate on whether or not you should bother telling him, but decide there’s nothing to lose or gain from it, “No, sir, they sent me on their own accord.”

“Ah, so you were a highly valued servant, is that it? What special qualities did you have that set you apart, I wonder?”

“You said it yourself, sir, I can read and write.”

“Yes, yes, but that’s not the only thing, surely.”

His interest strikes you as a little odd. You couldn’t tell if he was still trying to interrogate you or if he was genuinely curious at this point. There was a spark behind his eyes that appeared to be earnest interest.

“I went to school for about three years,” you admit cautiously, “I studied law; almost got my degree, too.”

His face completely changes, almost like a flick of a switch. The atmosphere around him becomes much more comfortable to stand in. “How curious,” he deliberates, “And who paid for your education?”

“I did, sir. I worked between my classes.”

“And why did you leave?”

“I had to,” you look away, “I couldn’t afford it, even with the job.”

Jindosh is quiet for a minute, but just as quickly as the brief episode of civility had come, it left again and he was back to being the shark in the water. “Tragic. I suppose one can’t expect every person to work as hard as the next. Maybe you can return to your studies after your ten years has passed here?”

You feel that familiar Jindosh-oriented anger rising in you again. I did work hard, you pompous bastard.

“Perhaps,” you say instead, forcing a smile on your face. Jindosh takes another draw from his pipe and lets it blow into your direction. You fight back a cough as he smiles.

“You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?” he asks suddenly, his voice a little different than before. You feel your heartrate pick up again with anxiety.

“Forget—?” It takes you a second to comprehend what he’s referring to. The deal. “N-no sir. Of course not. I completely agree with the terms you have set.”

“Are you sure?” he challenges, stepping closer to you. Oh how you regret showing him your distaste for a lack of personal space on that first day. He’s closer than an arm’s reach now. “It’s such a long time and I’m not known for being a amicable employer. You might grow to hate me.”

You’re surprised by how hard it is to stop yourself from saying, I already hate you, you arrogant prick.

Instead, you muster up some hidden courage from the center of your self-esteem and say, “Hating you would not be very professional. Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to distract you from your work any longer.”

Without hesitation, you gather up the mop bucket and give him one final curtsey, saying, “Good afternoon, Mr. Jindosh.”

Before you retreat, you catch a glimpse of his face, expecting to see another smug smile or smirk. Instead, he’s just . . . looking. Just watching as you move. There’s even a bit of surprise in the way he’s staring, almost as if he’s calculating something.

Quickly, you make your way down the carpeted staircase and back towards the elevator. You feel vastly different now that you’ve spoken to Jindosh, not in a good or a bad way. What you really feel is exhaustion and stress gnawing at you as you drop the bucket and mop into the storage closet and remove your apron.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head that kept saying things would change now that Jindosh had acknowledged your presence. Every time you spoke to him, the two of you were alone—which seemed to make matters worse, typically.

Holding your temper had never been hard for you, in the past. In fact, some people had said you were absolutely agreeable and tolerant! It was just him with his superior intellect and overdramatic egotism that pushed every single one of your buttons.

Still though, you hated to admit, he was appealing in some ways. While being under his gaze was unsettling, it also made you feel incomprehensibly important. That fact that this man who had given the empire technologies that would last decades and had surpassed the great Anton Sokolov had taken even the worst kind of interest in you was . . . thrilling? Is a way?

That thought stopped you in your tracks as you were leaving the mansion, boarding the carriage. Almost immediately, you recoiled from any notion that you enjoyed your predicament in the slightest. Jindosh was the worst sort of human being— lacking all compassion and obsessed with himself. You couldn’t let yourself fall for the same spell as every noble in this city was under, idolizing Kirin Jindosh as the Grand Inventor and not seeing his flaws.

But . . .

You sigh as you enter your apartment, collapsing onto your mattress. There had hardly been any one who could engage intellectually with you since law school. You’d grown used to being the silent maid who only spoke when spoken to and delivered pastries and tea without participating in the party conversation. Up until today, it really hadn’t occurred to you or even bothered you that you had had to dumb yourself down in order to gain the trust of your employers.

You couldn’t recall the last time an employer had asked you as many personal questions as Jindosh had in ten minutes. Even if he didn’t care to commit them to memory, he had seemed genuinely engaged in the conversation. How strange.

None of this matters, though. After all, this was still a heartless man who would sooner turn you into a lab project than spend a day not talking about himself.

There was some comfort in the fact that you didn’t have to avoid him anymore. There was no doubt that he would still pursue you every now and again to torment you, but he didn’t have the time to do that every single day. You found yourself resting easy knowing that this wasn’t the worse case scenario.

You could survive this.

Note:

Oh my God I started this?? Three times??

An explanation—the passing of time is a really hard thing to write about depending on how you want to direct a story. I began with the reader starting their first day of work, but that required waaaayyyyyy to many details such as training, protocol, meeting other maids, etc. I wanted to include Jindosh in there somewhere, but I knew I couldn’t just throw him in on the first day. So I re-wrote it and spaced it out a little more, but it still didn’t fit. So I decided to go with about three weeks between the accident and the Jindosh interaction with a bit of backstory to fill in the gaps.

THAT is why it took so long. Sorry! I wanted it to flow correctly!! Here it is though! Thanks so much for your support :)

#kirin jindosh #kirin #jindosh #dishonored #dishonored 2 #x reader #reader insert #kirin jindosh x reader #jindosh x reader #dh #dh2 #part 2 #a decade gone

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secretagentspydetectiveninja · 7 years

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The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 25

(aka the royalty AU story)

Huh, these are some adorable characters we’ve got here, right? It would be a shame if something... happened to them... >:D

[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24] [AO3]

The summer holidays began, and most of the students returned to their home countries for the long break. Kim left with Marinette and went to Cheng, and Max and Alix took the ocean liner to the northern port before going their separate ways.

It wasn’t that the journey made Alix feel irritable and tired, since she had taken that journey before and it wasn’t even that long. Perhaps it had been the fact that she hadn’t yet caught up on the sleep she missed the other night, where her brain had kept her awake for hours trying to think of how to let Kim down as gently as possible.

Considering this was the first year of her life she’d actually had any close friends, she had found herself more terrified of losing Kim’s friendship than she had realized. In fact, if he hadn’t run off immediately after confessing to her then she probably would have just agreed to be his sweetheart on the spot, just to keep him around. At least she’d had more time to think it over and trust that he hadn’t just been using their friendship to get close to her. No, he was a good friend, he understood that she didn’t feel the same way and was fine with it. Thank goodness for that.

The entourage of guards and press that turned up at the airport for her arrival did nothing to help her rather sour mood. Once she got home she was greeted by her family, then thankfully allowed to do as she pleased for the rest of the day. She decided to go rollerskating, hoping that would make her feel a little better.

She was just stepping out into the corridor from the throne room when it hit – a sudden surge of emotion, so strong she wasn’t even sure what it was at first. Anger? Fear? Helplessness? It felt like a mix of all three, so powerful she felt dizzy.

“Are you alright?” Jalil asked her. “You look really ill suddenly… really pale…”

Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. Maybe this was a panic attack? She had heard of those. But then again, nothing seemed to have caused it… was that possible?

“You should take a nap,” he continued. “I’ll wake you up before dinner if you want.”

Alix nodded, unable to speak. She went down to her room and lay on the bed, not really expecting to be able to fall asleep considering how she was feeling, but her lack of recent sleep managed to overpower it within seconds.

She should have known that her sudden bad mood would be an indicator that her dreams were going to turn into those creepy, haunting ones again. This time it wasn’t ambiguous at all – it was a nightmare, and not just any nightmare, but the most vivid, realistic nightmare she’d ever had in her life. Bolting upright, tears streaming down her cheeks, she could only remember one thing.

Her snake beheaded.

The poor innocent queen cobra, its head having been cut off and lying beside the rest of its body.

Dead.

She scrambled out of bed and climbed into the snake enclosure, practically blinded by her tears but not caring. She just needed to find her snake. The nightmare couldn’t have been real, surely that couldn’t have happened, her snake couldn’t have been decapitated–

Oh thank goodness, there it was. Dropping to her knees, she picked it up and hugged it as best as she could. Kim the First was alive and well, head firmly attached to the rest of its scaly body. Seeming to sense her terror, it curled up around her reassuringly.

She couldn’t help breaking down into tears. It was only a dream, she knew that, it wasn’t real, but for some reason the emotions she felt were just not going away. She was just so scared, so afraid of what would happen if her snake really died, especially as brutally as that, so angry at anyone who would potentially do something like that, so upset and not knowing what to do…

At some point Jalil came into the room, expecting to wake her up from her nap in time for dinner, but he instead discovered her sitting in the snake enclosure, clinging onto her pet snake for dear life and still sobbing all over it.

“I h-had a nightmare,” she said before he could ask. “Snake… beheaded…”

Her eyes were still burning with so many tears that she could hardly see, but it looked like her brother was climbing into the snake enclosure too. Sure enough within a few seconds she felt him hugging her, just like he used to do when she’d had nightmares as a little kid.

“It wasn’t real,” he reassured her. “It was just a bad dream.”

“But… what if…”

“Shhh, don’t dwell on it. You’ll forget about it soon enough. It was just a nightmare.”

“Or a vision!” She stroked her precious pet’s scales, vowing silently she would never take it for granted ever again. “It was just… so r-realistic… I’ve n-never had a dream like that before! I’m s-scared!”

“It’s okay. It seemed like you were ill earlier, maybe that’s why you had such a weird dream. You just need more rest. It’ll be alright.”

“But snake lifespans! Shorter than h-humans… he’s gonna… he’s gonna d-die someday and I just… I can’t… take that… I’m gonna break, Jalil! I can’t live without this snake!”

She burst into fresh tears, fairly certain she had never cried this hard before in her life. Why was she even feeling so irrationally terrified over a nightmare? Normally she was never afraid of anything!

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Jalil said. “For now at least this snake’s here to stay, okay? I promise. Everything will be fine.”

It sounded so hollow to her somehow. How did he know everything would be fine? He didn’t, that was what! He was only saying that to make her feel better, and it didn’t work whatsoever. Terrified, upset, angry, exhausted… she was filled with so many emotions it felt like she was going to burst. Had she ever felt this bad before? Not that she could remember.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to dinner,” said Jalil, “since you’re feeling so unwell. Just stay here for now and I’ll have some food brought in for you, okay?”

“Okay…”

He patted her on the back and then left the room, leaving her alone with the snake. She tried to stop her tears but nothing seemed to work, like her brain had gone into shock and completely refused to listen to her.

Hopefully she would forget about this nightmare soon, right? She would get over it, and in a few days she would look back and laugh at how silly she had been. That would happen, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it?

Imperial Prince Adrien returned home to find his governess Nathalie standing at the top of the big marble staircase above the entrance hall, looking down over him with a much more serious expression than usual.

“Adrien, did you bring all your possessions back home with you?”

“Yes, why?”

“You may unpack them all fully. You won’t be needing to take them back to school.”

The porters at his side immediately began opening the various boxes of luggage, hauling things out.

“Why?” Adrien asked again.

“Your father, His Imperial Majesty, has decided it is best for you to remain here in Agreste from now on. In September you will not be returning to school, nor ever again.”

The words took a few seconds to sink in. He wasn’t allowed back to school…? Ever? It was like a sudden punch to the gut.

“Why can’t I go to school?” he asked, shocked to hear his voice cracking a little. “I love it there! I have so many friends, and I’m learning so much, and–”

“I’m afraid it’s not up to me,” Nathalie said, not looking him in the eye. “It is your father’s decision. You know he never wanted you to leave Agreste in the first place.”

“But what’s wrong with school?”

“During the most recent holidays your father noticed that your attitude seems to have changed. He does not think it a good change. If you stay here, away from the nobility and the riff-raff of lower ranks, you can learn to be… more like him.”

“But it’s not fair! Why didn’t he ask me? Or tell me earlier? I want to stay at school, I like having some freedom, I–”

“I believe this is what the emperor meant by your attitude having changed,” she said, looking down at the ground by her feet. “This carefree, spirited attitude, wanting to rebel and have your way all the time...”

Adrien glared up at her, wanting to yell at her, but he stopped himself. It was not Nathalie’s fault. She was just the messenger, and it didn’t look like she was happy about this outcome either. Anyway, hadn’t this same thing happened to Kim after the spring holidays? Perhaps Adrien could get out of it with some persuasion too.

He took a deep breath and then said, as clear and commanding as possible, “I would like to speak to my father about this.”

“Your father is abroad at the moment, directing the troops in the 7th region. He may not be back for some months yet, and he has already made sure to inform me that no amount of clever debating will change his mind – you are ‘grounded’, as the commoners put it. No leaving the palace. Do not even enter the palace grounds without permission, or you will have to stay in your room until your father deems you fit to leave.”

Grounded? Grounded was for people who weren’t being forced into living up to a duty that was thrust upon them, just because they wanted some friends and an education that wasn’t just propaganda. This was on another level entirely.

But wait… 7th region? In the colonies?

“What’s father doing in the colonies?” he asked. “He’s not taking over more land, is he?”

“…I’m not sure.”

That meant yes.

“But he should be back within the year,” she continued. “There are some issues in the region that he wanted to see to personally, so he went there himself.”

“What issues? Kim said that region’s too dangerous, that’s why he can’t go back home right now, so isn’t it too dangerous for father too?”

Nathalie shuffled on her feet nervously. “It may be more dangerous for citizens of Lê Chiến in that region than of Agreste.”

He felt his heart sinking. “What’s going on, Nathalie? What is father up to? Kim says there’s increasing hostilities between Agreste and Lê Chiến, is it because father did something?”

“The information is classified, so I really don’t think I should–”

“Please! Kim’s my friend, I have to know! I want him to be safe!”

She sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. “Fine. I don’t know everything about it, but there were plans for peace between the two nations. The emperor was going to return a part of the 7th region. However, the leaders of Lê Chiến were unhappy because upon inspection, all the natural resources of that area had been stripped, leaving it essentially worthless and unable to even be used as farmland.”

“You mean we took their land, wasted it all up until it was unusable, then tried to give it back to them under the guise of a peace offering?”

“It does sound rather harsh when you put it like that, but yes. The leaders of Lê Chiến have been asking for a piece of land that is not completely barren, but our empire cannot afford to give any away. Your father is directing troops to find more land, especially since much of the area is filled with jewel mines which would be good to have under the empire’s control.”

“So he is taking more land,” Adrien muttered through clenched teeth. “And what about Kim? Why is it unsafe for him to go back home?”

“There have been skirmishes at the borders,” Nathalie said, looking uncomfortable. “Ever since the troops have been stationed in the area, there has been an increase in raids and attacks on merchants and traders carrying supplies in and out of Lê Chiến…”

“The troops are trying to stop trade from getting into Lê Chiến? Please tell me father’s gone to stop them.”

She looked even more uncomfortable now. “Well actually, I highly doubt he disapproves of their behaviour… he might indeed be encouraging of it…”

“You know what, I’m not even surprised,” Adrien snapped. “It’s no wonder no one at school liked me at first, when our empire goes and does things like this without me even knowing.”

“Adrien, running an empire is a matter of strength, and–”

“Oh come on, I know you don’t really believe that. You’re just saying that because my father made you say it!” He began stomping off towards his bedroom.

“Wait, Adrien! You have a schedule to attend to!”

“I don’t feel well. Leave me alone!”

Storming away into his room, seething, he realized that was the first time in his life he’d had an outburst of anger like that. Maybe he had grown a backbone at school, surrounded by others who were not afraid to speak their mind. It felt… freeing.

But that did not solve any problems. He was still stuck at home indefinitely, and Kim was still in danger. Not to mention Kim’s kingdom, which would soon end up Agreste territory if he didn’t do something soon. But what? How could he do anything when his own father refused to let him leave the palace?

Meanwhile, Kim himself was not having a much better time. Cheng was absolutely lovely, he had been there before and was welcomed with open arms, but so many things were playing on his mind that it was hard for him to enjoy himself here like he usually did.

“What’s the matter?” Marinette asked him, finding him leaning on a balcony railing one day, watching the royal guards at their practice. “You seem so weirdly distant.”

“I miss home,” Kim mumbled. He stared off into the distance, the rolling hills fading away into the horizon. Lê Chiến was in that direction. So close, yet so far. “I wish I could go back, I don’t even know when I can… and I’m worried about its safety…”

Marinette put a comforting arm around him. “That’s understandable. It’s been a long time since you’ve been there, hasn’t it? I’d miss home so much too if I was away that long. And I don’t know much about the safety situation at all, that must be stressful to think about. But I’ll do my best to make your stay here as fun as possible in the meantime. Is there anything in particular you need me to do?”

“Nah, it’s fine, you’re already being awesome… so is your family…” He looked back down at the royal guard practice. “Hey Mari? Who’s that one who’s delivering the food? That one in the corner with the basket…”

Marinette peered over the balcony edge. “Oh, him? It’s just Bluebell. One of the servants. Why?”

“Huh? No reason…” He rested his head on his arms and continued watching the practice. Or rather, watching the servant handing out fresh fruit to everyone. Bluebell… what a cute name.

“I think there is a reason,” Marinette said, smirking. “If you want me to set you up with Bluebell you can just ask.”

“W-what? Haha no, I’m not… I just…” He sighed. “Okay, yeah, he’s kind of cute. And I guess that means you probably noticed somehow that I like guys. But… it’s not like I know anything about him, and… I just… I’m trying to get over someone else, and… well…”

“Kim, the truth is I saw you and Adrien kissing at the winter party – you’re both so tall that the chairs didn’t exactly hide you. So yes, I guessed you like guys. And I can also guess who you’re trying to get over, considering how much you’re always drooling over Alix like some kind of… anyway, I know you like her.”

“Yeah, well it’s not happening, so I’d better fall for someone else quickly so I can carry on being her friend without feeling like a total creep.”

“Aw Kim, you’re not a creep! It’s okay to have a crush on a friend. Nino has a crush on me, and I don’t think he’s a creep. You’re only a creep if you be creepy, and you are definitely not doing that. It’s clear you care about her a lot as a friend. That’s a good thing.”

Kim smiled at her. “Thanks, Marinette. You always know the right thing to say.”

“Noooo, I so don’t! I can’t even speak a full sentence around Adrien! I’ve just known you since forever, that’s why it’s easy to talk to you. You’re like… like a cousin to me. Or some kind of long-lost brother. And I’m going to help you feel better if I can. So, want me to set you up with Bluebell? He’s really nice from what I know of him!”

“I don’t know, he’s a boy so I don’t think that would go down well…”

“And he has a twin sister who is also really cute, for the record.”

“Really? Okay. I’ll… I’ll just meet them then. That would be cool.”

“Nice!” Marinette held out her fist for a fist bump, and Kim happily obliged.

Over the rest of the summer holidays things had not improved at all for Alix – in fact they had just gotten worse. The nightmare about her snake was still haunting her almost all the time. Whenever she closed her eyes she could see the image of her poor decapitated pet, like it was branded onto the insides of her eyelids, forcing her to relive it over and over again. She took her snake with her everywhere for its protection, refusing to let anyone else touch it. There was no way she was taking any chances.

Her odd moods did not improve either, and though she tried her best to shake it off as normal teenage mood swings, it was clearly something else entirely. What was wrong with her? It was like she was steadily feeling more and more unstable, confined, impulsive, exhausted…

It made her so ill she ended up being let off her pharaoh duties many days, just because she looked so tired. On these days she would take her skates and leave the palace, just needing to get out for a while and clear her head. Why was she feeling so weird closed in, anyway? It wasn’t like she was grounded or anything, she could do what she wanted.

Over the weeks she found herself spending more and more time with her brother, for some reason feeling like she missed him even though he was clearly right there. It was somewhat nostalgic, in fact. Just like things had been when they were younger. She had hoped maybe it would make her feel better, but it really didn’t at all. Her mood just continued to deteriorate.

At some point during the holidays Max had come to visit with some trade shipments. Alix had told him everything, about the horrific dream and the way it still made her feel ill even all these weeks later. He suggested it might be school stress catching up to her, or a spell of anxiety disorder, or something like that – but that there was probably nothing to worry about, and queen cobra lifespans were long enough that the snake would be around for at least another 15 years or so. That didn’t really reassure her.

The weeks passed, and things just got worse and worse, until one fateful night very near the end of the holidays. She had a dream that she couldn’t remember exactly, but it was definitely something to do with the snake pond where she had adopted her pet snake from in the first place. Being asleep, dreaming about that place, that wasn’t so bad. The trouble started when she suddenly woke up in the quietest hours of the night.

Her hand… it felt like it was burning. As if someone had stuck a hot needle into the back of it. She sat up and squinted at it in the darkness, but there didn’t appear to be anything wrong with it. Lying back down she tried to go back to sleep.

The pain in her hand suddenly tripled in intensity, shooting up her arm like there was lava in her veins. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She sat up again and looked back at her arm, but there was still nothing there. Rubbing her hand and trying to get the pain to stop, she felt violent tingles running through her arm all the way up to her shoulder, so painful it made her stomach heave.

She held back a sob and pushed herself out of bed. It felt like her feet were made out of lead, and her ears were ringing so much it was like she was going to faint. She managed to crawl into the snake enclosure where her beloved snake was already waiting for her, having sensed that something seemed to be very wrong. It slithered over to her and wrapped itself around her, hissing soothingly as she clutched her stinging arm, struggling to breathe through the pain.

She hoped whatever it was would have stopped by now, but it continually increased. Spikes of pain kept stabbing at her arm, making her feel sick, making her wish she could just tear her whole arm free of her shoulder socket just to get away from it. Minutes passed, and still there was no end in sight. It hurt so much she curled up into a ball and bit down on the skin on her knees, hoping it would distract her. Surprisingly she barely even felt it. It was nothing compared to how excruciating the pain in her arm was, after all.

What was even happening? Had she done something to her arm without realizing? She couldn’t even remember now, not when her brain was so fogged up and her entire arm felt like it was on fire. Maybe she should go call someone for help, but the prospect of getting up, actually moving, needing to speak… it was too daunting. She was immobilized, paralyzed, completely overcome with fear and pain. The only thing she could do was cry, feeling terror overwhelm her every time the pain kicked it up a notch, like the very blood in her arm was curdling and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Of course she was no stranger to pain. Living an active lifestyle meant she’d had her fair share of injuries. But she had never, ever suffered anything nearly as bad as whatever was happening now. And every time she thought it couldn’t get any worse, that surely it had to stop now, it somehow managed to exceed itself.

How had she not passed out yet? Or thrown up yet? Or died? Surely she was going to die. No human being could ever go through something so horrendously agonizing, for so long, and live to tell the tale. No, she was definitely going to die, not even knowing the reason why, not even caring at this point. All she wanted was for the pain to stop.

It did not stop. For what felt like hours, days, years, it continued. She gave up trying to fight it and just lay in the enclosure with the snake, crying. No one deserved to come to such a painful, torturous end. No one.

After what felt like an eternity, the pain finally subsided. It went away as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving Alix confused and exhausted. She wiped away her tears and lay back down, falling asleep right there in the snake enclosure.

Thank goodness she was alive. Whatever that had been, she never wanted to experience it ever again. Or any pain at all, for that matter. It hadn’t left a visible mark, but she was certainly not going to be able to forget that in a hurry, much like the nightmare about her snake being beheaded that she’d had right at the start of the holidays. It was probably going to haunt her forever.

Was there any possible way to ask Master Fu about this at the oracle session? She needed answers. But the students could not ask him questions about the past, it had to be about the future. Surely, though, there had to be some way she could find out what was going on?

She would just have to think about it.

#yessss i finally updated this. told you it would get more serious from now on #me @myself: YOU RUINED A PERFECTLY COOL CHICK IS WHAT YOU DID #LOOK AT HER. SHE'S GOT ANXIETY #(well kinda) (i swear all the weird spooky stuff will make sense soon)#you can always tell which characters are my favourites by how disproportionately mean i am to them #i love Angst and Pain and Suffering #royalty au #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #le chien kim #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alix kubdel #random stuff #the misadventures of prince kim #aish writes

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