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stylesharrys · 4 months

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reason to stay [mafiarry]

summary: you come across a little something that harry’s been keeping from you.

warnings: mentions of the mafia, descriptions of a gun and violence, swearing

word count: 2,819

a/n: wow, it's been a hot fuckin' minute since I did mob!harry but hey, here it is!! next couple of weeks you guys will also be getting a new mob!harry series, so keep your eyes peeled!!

He knows the rules by now. Head down, shoulders high. Let them know you by a name, never by yours.

Harry thought he was slick enough to pull that over your head, too. He should’ve known better. He can’t live two separate lives, can’t keep you in the dark from the main life he lives. He can’t have you believing this fantasy forever.

But you knew, you knew since the beginning something was wrong – there was something he wasn’t telling you.

All the ��security” he has to follow you when you want to go out without him, the personal driver, and the random stop-ins from three “friends” in particular. And if that wasn’t enough, the constant phone calls and change of phone numbers were enough to make anyone suspicious.

You trusted him, and never really had a reason not to. You’ve known Harry for years, as far back as you can remember. Even then, he was slightly shady, never giving much information about himself willingly.

But things are different now. You’re moved into his home, riding in his cars. Harry knows your every move, claims there are too many bad people out there, and that he could never live with himself if something happened to you and he couldn’t get to you in time.

Now, staring at the wad of cash that’s been stuffed into the hollow wood of the foot of the bed, all of your suspicions are confirmed. Not a doubt in your mind when your eyes catch glimpse of the silver barrel of a gun peeking from beneath the money.

There’s at least five grand there alone; tied together with elastic bands, and a separate wad wrapped with your hair tie.

From what you’re aware of, it’s not typical of a hotel owner to stash cash and a handgun in the foot of his bed.

You can’t help but chuckle to yourself. Harry has a safe just six feet away in the back of the closet. You know why the gun’s in the foot of the bed – easy access, just in case anything happens.

There’s an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t quite tell if it’s your gut telling you to run, or simply confirming that you were always right – you always knew there was something else deep down.

Harry’s not supposed to be home for another hour, you don’t know what to do with yourself in the time between.

Do you wait at the table for him when he gets home? Sitting there with the gun and cash laid out with your hands crossed? Do you put everything back and leave the top of the foot of the bed slightly out of place, so he knows that you know?

Or do you just pretend you didn’t see a damn thing?

You can’t live your life in a relationship with someone who keeps an entire lifestyle a secret from you. You can’t be engaged to a man you barely even know.

Harry can’t seriously have thought you wouldn’t find out, right? That someone somehowwouldn’t accidentally split up, or you wouldn’t start asking questions or start snooping for answers?

Because you weren’t snooping – not exactly.

An accidental knock at the foot of the bed when changing the sheets is what uncovered the truth. How pathetic. Not even a big reveal as to the secrets the man you love has been keeping.

Just your own accidental clumsiness.

But nothing is truly an accident, you believe that. Your intuition told you to lift the board and look into it, you could’ve just straightened the board back up, but you didn’t.

Curiosity always kills the cat. But you can’t be sure if there’ll be any satisfaction to bring it back.

“I don’t give a fuck if you have to pull his teeth out one by fucking one. Get the answers I want, or you’re the one to pay for Lopez’s fuck up.”

Harry raises a brow, tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek. Tommy never did have any chill when it came to hearing things he didn’t like. It shouldn’t surprise Harry anymore, not after all this time.

“I thought I told you, we’re sweet with the Solados'?”

Tommy turns around, lips pursed with rolling eyes. “So ‘cause we’re sweet with them, they get to walk all over us? I don’t think so. They work the corners, we run the shit. Keep ‘em in their place, no?”

Harry holds his hands up, a chuckle slipping from the side of his mouth and Tommy grins.

“Don’t tell me Y/N’s making you all soft now… just a few years ago, you would’ve threatened worse and cut off half their pay.”

Harry remembers exactly who he was before he met you again, remembers how reckless and money hungry he was. He barely recognizes himself as ever having been that person. Meeting you again made him realize there’s more to life than drugs and money.

“Not going soft in the slightest… though the less you say, the more your threats mean. Might wanna give it a try sometime.”

Tommy scoffs as the car pulls up to a stop outside Harry’s building.

“Kavin, I’ll need you to pick me up at 8:30 tomorrow morning, got a few bits I need to take care of.”

The driver looks up through the rearview mirror as Harry talks, and he nods his head, a timid smile on his face. “No problem, boss.”

Harry turns to Tommy.

“As for you, try to stay out of trouble ‘til morning, please?”

Tommy flips Harry off as he gets out of the car and makes his way inside. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion, Harry’s still beyond excited to get home and see you. To get straight in bed and hear all about your day while your head lays on his chest.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as the elevator takes him up to the penthouse. However, Harry doesn’t have to move far into the apartment before he finds you.

Expecting to see you already cozied up in bed, he’s confused to see you sat on the kitchen island in the dim lighting, body adorned in white lace and a pair of black heels.

Harry’s almost certain you’ve never looked so stunning, but he thinks that every damn time he sees you.

He can’t hold back the choke that breaks past his throat, and he can’t hide the tightening tent that begins to form in his fitted trousers. Harry grins sheepishly as he makes his way over.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You eye him, heart beating heavily in your chest. Unfolding your legs, you spread them open to allow Harry to close the space between you.

You guide his hands to your hips, a hum slipping past your lips.

“I thought seeing as we were doing surprises today, this would be a nice one for you to come home to.”

Your hands slowly cover the expanse of his chest. Feeling and groping the muscles beneath his white shirt. Harry's eyes are too focussed on the way your tits bulge from your bra to look you in the eye, but your words to cause a quirk in his brow.

“And what surprises might those be?”

He’s too in his fucking head, too into your body and the taste of your neck to notice you reach for anything, to even notice you move or shift. You’re going to be his fucking downfall.

“I don’t know,” you hum seductively, keeping your grip tight on the handle, pulling off the safety. “Maybe finding this little thing.”

Harry hears the click as the cold barrel of the gun meets his temple and his entire body stills. He pulls back slightly, eyes cautious as he meets your eyes.

You’re stoic, solid. You’re not about to break for shit.

“Where’d you get that, sweetheart?”

“You tell me, honey.”

Harry doesn’t say a word, doesn’t let his eyes leave yours.

“Did I find it behind the freezer? Or was it at the foot of the bed? Or, maybe I found this one in the tank of the toilet.”

Harry begins to realize you’ve been on what appears to be an Easter hunt today, finding all sorts of his little gems dotted around the house. But what he can’t figure out is why or how you started finding them in the first place.

“Tell me, Harry,” your free hand reaches between his thighs, cupping the bulge that sits heavy. “Why does a hotel owner have four guns hidden in his penthouse, with wads of cash stashed in the walls and floorboards, hm?”

Harry’s mouth grows dry, hands are slightly clammy. He works exceptionally under pressure and knows there’s always a way out, but with this, he isn’t so sure… Harry’s never dealt with this situation, he’s never even anticipated this would happen.

How stupid does he think you are?

“Put the gun down, and we’ll talk.”

Even though you’re the one with a gun to his head, he still speaks with such power and control. You won't budge though, and neither does the gun.

“I’ll put the gun down when you tell me the truth.”

He huffs, but you don’t give him chance to try and worm his way out of it.

“It’s drugs, isn’t it? That’s what’s always blowing up your phone, why Tommy is so secretive when he’s around me… why I can’t go anywhere or do anything without you knowing about it.”

There’s silence from Harry. In all honesty, he’s never seen you like this before and with a gun to his head, he’s not entirely sure how you’ll react if he tries to speak.

“What, did you think you could live this other life and not tell me how you really make your money? Did you seriously think I’d never find out, Harry? Do you think I’m that fucking dumb?”

“No, Y/N. I never told you to protect you! The less you know about this shit, the better. I don’t want you involved in any of it, okay? Now put the fucking gun down and we’ll talk.”

There’s desperation in his eyes but you can’t quite put your finger on what he’s desperate for. Surely he knows you’re no good with a gun, there’s no way you’d shoot him. Maybe it’s desperation that this doesn’t make you get up and leave.

Could he blame you if you did? He’s kept a whole life of his completely secret from you. Does he expect you to just stay and forget about it? Act like everything’s okay?

Nonetheless, despite your inner battle, you lower the gun and take a shaky breath as Harry slowly pinches it from your hand. He puts the safety back on and slides it across the island.

Harry’s eyes never leave yours as he takes off his jacket and rests it around your shoulders. With the chat you’re both about to have, it doesn’t sit right with him that you’re almost completely naked.

That’s when you finally break eye contact and the reality of everything starts to really sync in.

Not only has Harry been living an entire life secret from you, but he’s been living an illegal one. One with drugs and guns, and no doubt blood and pain.

As he leads you to the sofa, you begin to rake your brain for any times he’s ever come home scratched or bruised or bloody. It’s not like you fall short, either. There are a good few instances that pop back into your head.

He always claimed it was a rough night with training, or he and Tommy were fucking about and he clipped him with a black eye. You feel like a fool for ever believing a word that came out of his mouth.

As you’re staring at the coffee table you can’t help but question everything he’s ever said to you, everything he’s ever done. How did he even afford to buy a hotel? Was that with dirty money? And this apartment?

“Babe.”

“Don’t babe me, Harry. Sit down and explain right now before I walk out that door and I never come back.”

He huffs and takes a seat, reaching for your hands but you don’t let him. You won’t let him touch you, not until you know the truth. And even then, maybe not.

“Look, I’m happy to be open and honest with you. But there are some things you can’t know, some things I won’t tell you. To protect you. You have to understand this entire thing is bigger than us, bigger than me and Tommy.”

You raise your eyes to meet him, your face as stoic as you can muster but Harry can see you crumble behind your wavering exterior.

“You know me as Harry, and that’s who I am, who I always will be. But there is another part of me, another life I suppose I live separately. To keep you and my family safe. I’m not just a drug dealer, baby. I work for one of the biggest distributors in London. Tommy and I, we’re two of the most powerful men in the city. We run a gang of 13 corners, we sell big, not small. It’s a dangerous fucking business we work in Y/N, so dangerous I’m known by name never by face. To protect you, to protect my family.”

You blink, trying to take in the information he’s giving you. You figured most yourself, though hearing it come from his mouth? You’re not sure how to take it.

“I got myself in a mess when I was 17, I started working for a local dealer to make back the money I owed. That’s when I met Tommy, we were both in the same boat. After a while, we realized we were pretty good at it, and we got bigger and bigger. Made names for ourselves on the streets, but it came with a price. We lost a lot to get to where we are, Tommy lost his Mum, I lost my Uncle… I’m not prepared to lose you, too. That’s why I kept you out of it.”

Everything starts hitting you a little too hard. It’s too painful to hear Harry confess everything you've already assumed. In the six years you’ve known him, everything feels like a lie, like you don’t actually know him at all.

You’re engaged to a complete stranger. A dangerous stranger no doubt capable of murder, and you can feel your chest begin to sink.

“I can’t be here, I need to go.”

Harry shoots up as quickly as you do, hands gently on your elbows to steady you from making a hasty move.

“Darling, I know it’s a lot to take in but please, just hear me out.”

“Hear you out? Harry, you’ve lied to me for six fucking years. I got engaged to a man I don’t even know and you expect me to sit here and hear you out? This is too much, I can’t be around you right now.”

Panic sets in for Harry, his heart frantic in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do. You do know him, he’s Harry, yourHarry. Even if you can’t see that right now.

“Where are you gonna go? Stay here and I’ll leave, I don’t want you roaming the streets.”

You huff. “I’m going to pack a bag and spend the night at my Mums. You can call Kavin and have him take me if that makes you feel better. I just need to be away from you for a while. I need to think, Harry.”

He doesn’t say a word, just sits back on the sofa while you scurry to the bedroom to change and pack a bag. It feels like you’re in there forever, when really, only a few moments pass.

It takes everything in you not to collapse to the floor in the closet, chest heavy and you struggle to gasp for another breath. You refuse to break, not while you’re here anyway. You need to get out of this apartment, out of Harry’s presence, and think.

When you leave the bedroom, Harry hears and stands again, eyes glued on the overnight bag you’ve only ever packed to spend the weekend away with him.

With a deep sigh, you clear your throat.

“I just need the night to think and wrap my head around this. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Harry nods, swallowing back the lump of a cry that’s fighting its way up his throat.

“Kavin’s downstairs waiting for you.”

You make your way to the elevator, every step an effort for your tired body, and you can’t bring yourself to look back. As you step into the elevator, Harry gets a little closer so he can still see you.

“I love you, baby.” He whimpers out as the doors begin to close.

You look away, eyes closed shut.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harrys styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot

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sarah-yyy · 16 days

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what is war of faith about? is it worth a watch apart from just wang yibo(being gay?)? and where should i watch it?

you were all expecting me to do this so okay let's see how many others i can drag down this shenlai (i think this is the ship name we've settled on?? i have seen many 沈来之笔 tags on ao3 so i'm assuming that's what the chinese fandom has settled on) hole.

what: republican era communist spy drama (finance bros edition) // completed // 38 eps, roughly 40 mins each where: iqiyi (standard disclaimer that i don’t watch with subs so i don’t speak to the quality of eng subs) why: *chanting* yibo yibo yibo yibo yib- wang yang?? xiansheng???? i'll preface by saying i don't watch many republican era shows - it's really just not my thing, like even zhu yilong couldn't make me watch one and that's saying a lot, but i did finish and quite enjoy this one!! extremely strong cast on this show, and the story moved fast enough and had enough action in it that it kept my attention.

meet my boy wei ruolai:

ruolai is from a v humble family, worked hard to put himself through night school but is having trouble stepping foot into the finance world because he has no money, no connections, no diploma (the school is holding off on issuing him one because he's from a communist-stronghold province 😪). he's working several jobs to make ends meet in shanghai when he decides to interview for a job at the central bank.

he aces his entrance test! ofc he does! ruolai is a bit of a whiz with numbers, and is very very very determined to get the job - the place could be on goddamn fire for all he cares, he'll finish his goddamn test and get this goddamn job even if it kills him.

his performance gains him the attention of shen tunan:

xiansheng!! 😍💖💕

chief of the central bank, The Guy™ of the finance and banking industry in shanghai. extremely attractive in a suit. 100% dilf certified.

xiansheng takes a shine on ruolai, but ends up not being able to hire ruolai despite his excellence because, again, ruolai is from a communist-stronghold province, and they don't want to take any chances with him possibly having communist ties.

does that set ruolai back?? no. my boy sneaks into a party that shen tunan is holding at his mansion, and convinces shen tunan to hire him by essentially picking apart shen tunan's ~secret strategies~ that he's uncovered just by following the finance news and making smart deductions 🥺💚

shen tunan caves and personally hires ruolai as his PA, and begins mentoring him and teaching him the ways of the banking industry.

the show is mostly about ruolai's growth in the central bank and the shift of his political beliefs, centred around the kmt and communist party's conflict in that era. the premise of the show is fairly simple - most republican era dramas move in the same direction. this one was well-written, had a solid cast, and beautifully shot.

the development of stn and wrl's relationship in this show was good! it's v shippable, if that's something that is important to you. ngl, i did stay through till the end because these two were so interesting.

we have proud teacher shen tunan who is so so proud of his boy and takes ruolai suit-shopping and tells him how special he is :

starry-eyed disciple wei ruolai who would literally do anything for shen tunan:

he really does mean it when he says that. he gets tortured and thrown in goddamn jail for shen tunan, and he just bears it all and doesn't let himself react in any manner that could harm shen tunan.

i started this strictly for yibo, and had no expectations that i would enjoy it, but guys...........wang yang is 🥵🔥 in this as shen tunan, and this ship just.......sails itself. what else was i supposed to do except go three hundred different levels of ahhhhhhhhh over them.

ANYWAY. strong rec. like at least 8.5/10. even if you're just in it for yibo (who is EXCELLENT in this, the whump scenes are incredible), or if you just want to ship shenlai, the payoff is strong in this.

#tv rec #war of faith #shenlai

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izzidane · 4 months

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Hellsing by Kouta Hirano [JPN 1998 - 2009 ; ENG 2003 - 2010]

Dark Fantasy, Horror ; 10 Volumes: 89 Chapters

Seinen

For centuries, many secret organizations have taken part in exterminating various types of dangerous monsters. One of them is the England-based Hellsing, run by its cunning leader, Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. Her greatest hunter, and trump card, is Alucard, an unbeatable vampire genetically modified by her father. Despite him being one of “them,” he swore to be her protector and servant.

A new crisis begins and with the help of Seras Victoria, his recently turned vampire partner, Alucard has to uncover the truth behind the mysterious vampire attacks. Not every human is bound to be his ally in this battle, and he will not hesitate to kill anyone who stands in his way.

#Hellsing #manga #manga covers #manga recommendation

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lightlycareless · 5 months

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Okay but.. what if Satoru is her ex and now she is with Naoya because she was cheated on👉👈

IS THIS FOR THE HIGHSCHOOL AU? CAUSE IF IT IS I LOVE YOU AND THANK YOU FOR FEEDING MY ADDICTION.

Anyways, this add a whole new layer of complexity to Y/N and Naoya's relationship. I was toying with the idea of Y/N already having a boyfriend, or more like a crush, but tHIS omg....

So I rewrote this like 3-4 times, and at first I was like I don’t want to be angsty, but then I thought well, if Y/N was cheated on then it can’t be anything but angsty, because it’s a huge breach of trust, you know?

And thus, everything else occurred. I think I might've gotten carried away and I'm not sure if this is what you wanted.... but hey, it's what came to me :') I hope you like it nonetheless!

warnings: mentions of cheating, people being jerks, insecurities, that kind of stuff. it's sad at first, but I like to think it gets sweet at the end.

Let’s set up the bases: the one that would take the first step in terms of seeking a relationship with the other would be Naoya—since cheating was involved, Satoru is/must’ve been a jerk (well, he is known for being insufferable, but still)

Once that’s set…

The first time you stepped into Naoya’s life would be through the sprouting rumors of Satoru’s “love life.”

Nothing that he’d be able to keep a secret due to his popularity, if anything many thought it was surprising this hadn’t come out far earlier, but now that it was out, many of his “admirers” could do nothing but gossip about it. Amongst them, Naoya.

Naoya wasn’t necessarily the same type of admirer as the others—not… that infatuated. But he still wanted to be around him, since he considered Satoru to be on the same level as him, the same… social circle, per say. And because he thought himself to be somewhat remotely similar, he also needed to keep up with whatever he did.

So, when he heard that he used to a have a girlfriend, it was… well, shocking to say the least. And not because anyone thought he couldn’t get a partner, of course not, but rather, because he actually settled down for once.

And because that meant Satoru had gotten a girlfriend first before him, and that was… upsetting, to say the least.

But pushing that aside, he quickly became determined in finding out who was the “lucky” girl that managed to capture Satoru’s attention, enough for him to consider her for a formal relationship, and of course, why it ended.

Because of Satoru’s reputation, and the fact that he was single yet again, many began to assume that the reason why they broke up was because she didn’t “satisfy” him adequately.

That she was probably “boring” or couldn’t comply with his “extravagant” lifestyle. The girls sure were having the time of their life imagining how they’d be better suited for him, essentially allowing him a life of debauchery, while the boys were more inclined into meeting the one that managed to “catch” him.

Thus, Naoya’s search for Satoru’s ex-girlfriend begins.

He has a notion, something to begin with: for sure pretty, because let’s be real, Naoya doesn’t know anyone that would date someone they didn’t consider absolutely stunning. She just must be.

From there, someone that matches his prestige, meaning, rich; unless he decided to go a completely different route and choose someone a bit more… humble, but he doesn’t think so. Naoya knows how the game goes, old money must be preserved, and others outside of that social circle tended to not blend in, so he doesn’t believe Satoru would’ve bothered.

But anyways, Naoya would find soon enough; all that he needed to do is ask around, maybe even nag Satoru a bit so he’d tell himself… to confirm the horrible image she had thanks to the sour opinions’ others began to have of his ex-girlfriend, Naoya intending to do the same once uncovering her identity…

Until he finally saw her.

She’d been right under his nose all this time, a somewhat quiet yet giddy girl from another class, one year younger than him, who’d occasionally be teased by his seniors for the sole reason of being “overprotected” by her siblings, also students at the school, or were anyway, one of them already graduated.

A girl named Y/N, whom upon getting a better look at her… found her to be incredibly cute.

And the vivid contrast of what he believed.

He couldn’t believe it.

Naoya truly couldn’t believe his eyes. He always thought that if Satoru had broken up with her was because she… well, because she was a bit mundane, right? That had to be. There was no synergy, no good reason for him to stick around…

But the reality had been so much different. You—you were someone that he could only consider captivating given the way he couldn’t get his eyes off you. And because he always considered himself to be somewhat in Satoru’s level, meaning that they’d have similar tastes and what not…

Naoya couldn’t fathom why he’d ever leave you.

For what little he’d seen of you, Naoya could easily disclose you were someone alluring.

So, Naoya decides to go forward with his plan, in the sense of approaching you to get to know you better. However, with a small change: not to divulge on you negatively, but rather, because he genuinely wants to do so…

And the surprise he receives is far bigger than he could’ve ever imagined; he hoped to find (yet again) something that would make you unlikeable, something to justify Satoru’s decision, maybe an annoying mannerism, a nasty habit, or just— anything, really.

But all that he finds… is things that pull him further and further into you. And soon, not only did he find you likeable, but also, wishing for something more… intimate between the two.

Starting by wanting to spend most, if not all, of his time with you. Getting to hear your voice talking about no particular topic—and it didn’t matter how, either. It could be a phone call, or in person—he just wanted to be the focus of your attention.

Or getting to see your face too. To see so first thing in the morning, or last thing at night, sounds amazing to him. Seek you out at soon as his classes are done, eat lunch together, (maybe even let you feed him? No, at least not in public) or do homework together. Since he’s already taken your classes, he’s more than happy to help you out, if it meant you’d praise him as sweetly as you’ve always done.

The thought is enough to make him blush—and with this, it’s clear that Naoya wants you to be his, and solely his.

Even if his skepticism about Satoru and his decision to dump you went on, it didn’t matter.

You were incredible, you are incredible. The girl of his dreams…. And if Satoru couldn’t see that, then he was a fool!

It was set then, he’d make you his girlfriend, treat you like no other has, and the two will be happy together, hopefully forever!

Or so… that’s what he wished would happen. Because his plans would only come to a screeching halt when you’d reject his sentiments, with a saddened face that more than portraying sorrow, displayed disappointment, gently shaking your head as you murmur.

“I’m sorry, but… I can’t”

And so, that’s how Naoya’s dreams would come to cease, with an abrupt rejection that left him hollow, voice of a heart, as he saw you further and further walking away from him, until you were no longer there, absent for the coming days.

But even when he was given more than enough reason to no longer seek you, Naoya couldn’t keep his mind off you. And every second of the day, whether at school or at home, all that he kept wondering was why you’d rejected him.

Why had you taken such a decision, and without even looking like you were considering it?

Had it been something he’d done? Did someone tell you something unsavory about him? If that’s the case, he can fix that. He can easily explain whatever it was, deal with whoever had done such a thing, so you’d talk to him again!

But… more than devastated by your rejection, he was deeply, incredibly infuriated.

Because rejection wasn’t something that Naoya took easily. For someone as egocentric as him, this was not something he could ever overcome as an unfortunate but common occurrence and just move on.

And with the previous notions he had of you through Satoru’s “friends” … those sentiments just grew bigger and bigger.

Thus, it wouldn’t take long before he approached you once more, but this time, with intentions of demanding to know why you had rejected him in the first place—all with a look on his face that made you flinch, never thinking him capable of such… harsh reaction.

But even after being suitably spooked, and consistently insisted on by Naoya, you eventually respond, at least with what you could muster so as to not appear any more vulnerable with him.

“Because I don’t want to.” You murmur, looking down to the floor. Naoya frowns.

“There must be a reason. There must be an actual reason as to why you don’t want to—it can’t be just because of that.”

“It is.” You reiterate. “That’s all.”

“I don’t believe it.” He insists. “You always have something to say! Now you’re telling me you don’t?”

You frown, if his actions weren’t hurtful enough, his words now offended you.

“If you’re going to keep making fun of me, you can leave”

“Keep?” he asks. “What do you mean keep? If anything, you’d be the one making fun of me!”

“Don’t act like you don’t know… it’s the whole reason why you’re here, isn’t?” you say, now looking up to him and revealing the now sorrowful look of your reddening, watery eyes. Naoya is slightly taken aback by the sight, his heart slightly twinging with pain. “To make a fool of me again, right?”

“Where did you even get that ide—"

“Just answer one question—just one” You interrupt, voice trembling before swallowing, as if to ease the nerves growing inside you. “Are you friends with Satoru?”

He blinks, taken aback by your query, but he does not answer.

“Answer me, Naoya!” You challenged “Do you get along with him, yes or no?!”

…

“Yes.”

“I fucking knew it.” You breathe, clenching your hands. “I knew it—I knew it.”

“What are you—”

“Drop the act, Naoya! I’ve seen right through you!”

“What act? What are you—what are you even talking about, Y/N?”

“What all his friends do!” you gasp. “What they’ve been doing the moment they found out I used to date Satoru!”

“What do they… do…?” Naoya murmurs slowly. “What does that even have to do with my feelings for—”

“It has to do everything.” You gasp. “It has to do with everything!”

You thought you’d be able to get away from the horrible experience your rupture with Satoru had brought you; those nasty, dark sentiments that completely engulfed your heart, leaving you nothing but a shell of the person you were, if not worse.

All because Satoru had committed the worst transgression he could’ve done at that moment, something so horrible and painful for someone as young and naïve as you:

He cheated on you.

When it happened, it felt as if your heart was being pierced with a thousand needles, twisted and pulled apart, before breaking up in a thousand pieces, settling in your chest to constantly inundate your mind, before drowning your voice with nothing but cries and tears.

And no matter how much you tried to move past this painful incident, think about anything else, your mind always brought you back to the horrible sight of Satoru being in the arms of someone else—and each time it just hurt worse.

Because after all was said and done, you truly cared for him. Far than just care for him, genuinely thought him to be your… other half, the love of your life. The man you’d end up marrying in the future!

Could you be blamed? He was your first serious relationship, and he had been the one to make a move at first… believing it was the start of your own love story, just as you’ve seen repeated over and over in the world around you.

But it wasn’t, and now, you’re here, left behind, in solitude, to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Your family would try to comfort you by telling you that this was just a one-time incident, that it was not your fault as you began to believe, that this was his decision, his fault, and that there was nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all.

Reaffirming that love still exists, even though it seemed almost impossible to think of at that moment, because after all, you had your mom and dad as an example—and most importantly, that pain will pass, you just have to give it time.

And perhaps because they insisted so much, or because you were always the hopeless romantic, you ended up trying your best to move on to a new day, think that the future had something better planned for you, that this was only a small stumble on the way, nothing more…

So, you began. One day at a time, surrounding yourself with your friends and family, people that had your wellbeing in mind; And it seemed to work, you began to feel a bit better, start expecting a better outcome for the coming days…

Until you met someone that began to show interest in you, far more than just a friend that is, and seemed to demonstrate so with his actions. He was charming, to say the least, funny, got along with everyone else, but was also very attentive to you, always making you feel special.

You didn’t want to think much of it at first, the scars in your heart reminding you to do so… but your poor heart began to think that maybe your parents were right in saying that “someone better always comes along.” That first comes the storm, and then… peace.

At last, it was finally your turn. It was finally the moment to meet the love of your life, the one that would make the rest of your days whole, and stop feeling lonely, as you’ve always felt.

Only to be proved wrong when you went on searching through his phone by accident after hearing it ring and ring, and he was away.

You thought it an emergency, the only reason why you’d ever do such thing… but the moment you did, you damned ever considering it such, for why he was being pestered over the phone wasn’t because his family needed him, or maybe some overdue project his teammates desperately needed to finish—it’s because he was disclosing all that he was doing with you with someone else, with a group… and making fun of it.

No—not making fun of the things he was doing.

Making fun of you.

Of the apparently silly ways you’d react, the stupid things you liked—but most importantly, wondering why Satoru ever considered you to be his girlfriend, when it was obvious with this past evidence, that you were nothing of the like. If anything, you got cheated on because you deserved it.

Because a boring girl like you probably deserved it.

And this shattered whatever was left of your poor heart, further secluding yourself from those outside of your social circle, quick to interject anyone that you’d sense had other intentions with you, hoping to save yourself from the pain—

Until Naoya came along.

There was something about him that immediately caught your attention, something you’ve never felt before, not even those jerks that attempted to befriend you—maybe it was his unusual hair color, the cool piercings on his ear, or simply because you found him handsome—that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him for too long. A fascination that worsened when you began to know him.

At first you thought he approached you because he noticed you staring at him, which caused you to be very, very tense when he began walking over to you; but thankfully, it didn’t seem to be nothing of the like, instead, he apparently just wanted you to help him move something from the nearby classroom onto another, and any other things that might pop up on the way.

It was slow, the way Naoya would interact with you when doing so, almost as if hesitant; but it wouldn’t take long before he became a bit more assertive with his actions, to the point where you decided to ignore your warnings and begin to open up to him, sharing the things you liked, and finding out that the two harbored many similarities than what you initially perceived… certainly far bigger than what you had with those that had come before.

With Naoya, he didn’t seem to judge you—didn’t look at you as if you’d grown a second head or was simply following your lead to pursue dubious intentions. No. He was listening to you and was sharing his own with an interest you couldn’t consider anything less than genuine.

You didn’t want to admit it easily, didn’t want to betray your hard-set motivation in keeping away… but there was something about Naoya that made it impossible, and while debating whether to pursue this feeling or not, you decided to rely on your friends for advice—albeit deep inside, you were looking for their blessing.

But instead of receiving the words you wanted to hear, those pushing you to follow your heart, you got a crude, cold reality check that quickly reminded you that your heartache had yet to end, and if anything, Satoru’s friends had just gotten more creative.

Satoru had no direct correlation with what was happening to you, for during your time is when you came to realize that someone with his status and power was bound attract lots of attention, and certainly… followers, whom ready to dissect every little aspect of his life—you included.

But was it really that hard to tell them to stop? To leave you alone? That even when you were the one that ended things, he was the one that wronged you, thus, you’ve already gone through enough?

Of course, that was something that fate wouldn’t grant you so easily, if ever. To be constantly reminded of a mistake you did in your youth, for now, in the shape of the young man standing before you.

“I know the game; I’ve been a player for far too long.” You say. “And I don’t want to keep going at it if all I’m going to be is a loser.”

There’s a sadness in your voice that immediately deepens the growing pain in Naoya’s heart, and soon, all the anger and disappointment he had towards you is quickly discarded, replaced by worry.

Just… what happened between the two?

“What happened Y/N?” he begins. “What happened with you and Satoru?”

“Don’t act like you don’t—” you begin to snap.

“I don’t” Naoya interjects, shaking his head. “I really, genuinely don’t know.”

And whether by the look of his eye, or the softness in his voice, you take it as him being honest. Maybe your personal life wasn’t as divulged as you thought it was.

Well, he ought to know now or later, so why not cut the chase?

This might as well be your moment to set the record straight, if it even mattered at that point.

“Satoru cheated on me” you begin, having to say so out loud still makes your heart clench, especially since the last time you ever uttered those words when was the wound was still fresh. “I… found him with someone else one day, when he was supposed to be doing something else…

I broke up with him soon after that and kept my distance, for my sake. But then, someone started to spread rumors about what happened, twisting the story to their liking, but always portraying me as the bad one. The one that deserved to be cheated on, because the “great Gojo Satoru” could never do wrong. And if he did, it’s because of a very valid reason.”

“What?” Naoya breathes, blinking as if that were to pull him back to reality.

Did he hear you right?

All this time, you— you were the one that—

“What do you mean cheated—”

“You didn’t strike me as someone who wouldn’t know what that means.” You frown.

“No, I know what cheating is.” He responds. “What I can’t believe is—”

“That he dated me? Yes, I know. I’ve heard it a thousand times befo—"

“No. That’s not it.” Naoya shakes his head. “I can’t believe that he—"

That he cheated on you.

That Satoru would cheat with the most perfect, beautiful, funny, supportive, caring girl he’s ever met in his life? Do that to the girl Naoya has been unknowingly dreaming of for all his life, and now had the pleasure of meeting?

How could someone so vile as Satoru not understand the blessings you represented?

Well, that was a bit hypocritical of Naoya to say at first, since he too was a very difficult person at times… careless to the privileges his status had brought, even more with the people around him.

But now that he met you, he could finally see the error in his way. The… fault in the ideology he carried.

Because he could never find himself, not anymore, harming the one person he’d ever felt such strong feelings for.

Now he knew why mothers were so overprotective of their children, why partners would go above and beyond to ensure that the other is safe, loved, protected…

He never felt that sentiment before, never understood why people were so… sappy, cringy with others.

Until he met you.

Until he met you, did he understand why they’d do so in the first place, and it felt almost silly that he ever thought otherwise, when now all that he wants to do is be with you, give you the whole world, bring you down the stars, if it meant you’d be happy again.

And to think he even justified the nasty things people were saying about you.

He’s even ashamed to have ever belonged to their side.

“My feelings for you are true.” Is what Naoya would come to say. “Since the moment I saw you, I’ve always felt this… attraction to you; but when I finally got to know you better, the person you truly are, is when I knew that what I felt for you was much more than finding you pretty.”

“Naoya—” you sob, tears now falling down your cheeks, raising your hands to wipe them equally fast as they began to appear. “That’s not—Don’t take me for a fool—!”

“If you don’t believe me.” He begins, taking a step closer to you and attempting to grab one of your hands, you swat him away. “Then let me prove it to you.”

“I don’t want you to do any—”

“However long it takes, whatever I need to do” he insists, finally taking hold of your wrist. “I’ll show you how much you mean to me.”

Naoya then carefully raises one of his hands to your face, gently swiping away one of your tears as you remained there, speechless, but sad. He didn’t know where this uncharacteristic softness came from — certainly never have done so in his life with anyone else— only that it felt right to do so.

And you… you wouldn’t have allowed such thing if you didn’t harbor any kind of sentiments from him to begin with, his words giving you hope for something you’ve long thought lost… but because you were in such emotional turmoil of disbelief, you didn’t find it in yourself to make a decision at that moment, or allowing him to be near you like this, opting to free yourself out of Naoya’s grasp, quickly turning around and leaving him on the spot.

It was undeniable that you didn’t expect him to go through with his words, initially believing them to be nothing but a joke, something to get you to lower your guard, and if he did, it wouldn’t last beyond a few days….

But Naoya would soon prove himself to be a man of his word when the 8th day came along and had gifted you for the consecutive time your favorite brand of mochi, the one you recalled telling him one time, if you ever did—to the point were you had to give some away because you didn’t believe you’d ever get to finish them!

Followed by a plushie of your favorite videogame, each day a different one, any that he could find, enough to fill boxes and boxes with them, making you consider opening your own store and reselling them…

Culminating in buying you the newest release of said franchise, which you’ve been saving up for weeks now, spending nothing of your allowance just for a chance to get it, but now that Naoya had taken care of that, what were you going to do with that money?

Well, whatever it was that you thought, Naoya would find out eventually, and take care of it, moving you back to the start.

But while these actions were… alluring by their own, they were nothing compared to what he did last.

Naoya would be underestimating his feelings if he didn’t voice just how infuriated he truly was to hear that first, Satoru had cheated on you, and secondly, that his so called “friends” had been pestering you about it—no, not pestering you, tormenting you. Picking at you as if you were the novelty hobby, the prime instigator, when it had been the other way around, and you were only smart to call quits!

He couldn’t see the same people he used to involve himself with without feeling disdain for them, especially those he knew had only gone above and beyond to make a miserable, laughingstock out of you.

And as the always determined man to take matter into his own hands, it didn’t take long for you to se the consequences of it.

It’s what finally pushed you to talk to him, after all.

“Y/N, good morning.” He says, a soft smile on his face upon seeing you approach him. Like a lost puppy, he couldn’t help himself from beaming with excitement when seeing your familiar, cute, adorable face looking at him after days of silence. “How are you—”

“…You had something to do with that, didn’t you?” you ask, straight to the point. Your bluntness surprised Naoya, but he can’t say he wasn’t expecting this at one point, hoped it would, really.

“With what?” He asks, there were many things he had planned for you, but he didn’t want to be the one to reveal them. Naoya wished to keep the element of surprise for as long as possible.

“You know exactly what. It’s… with them” and Naoya does his best to grin proudly.

“Did something happen?” he asks instead, feigning ignorance.

No.

Nothing bad, at least; completely unexpected… yet welcomed, because it gave you both things your heart always wanted, but never voiced in fear of being hurt.

“… the ones that made fun of me, they… apologized to me.” You begin, the first of your closures.

And it was only obvious that they would, for as soon as Naoya found out the responsible ones of your growing pain, he made sure to find them and give them a hard-earned lesson through… unconventional matters, nothing that could be traced to him, of course.

You could only guess what it had been due to the frightened look on their faces when they sought your forgiveness, as well as the bruises on their arms…

Which you didn’t necessarily agree with, but at the same time, you couldn’t deny the obvious: the impact that Naoya’s actions have caused on your life, starting from his appearance to his insistence, and now, this.

“Really?” He asks. “That’s good, it’s the bare minimum…”

“I don’t need to be a detective to know you had something to do with it” You respond, and he just shrugs, still putting up the ignorant act. But if anything, that just gave away his involvement.

“But… why?”

You knew the answer, but perhaps you needed to hear it with your own ears.

The second of your closures.

“I told you, didn’t I?” he responds. “I wanted to show you how much you truly mean to me…”

Before looking away, cheeks red upon noticing your intent stare at him, instead of running away.

“But, I mean—yeah, what they did was wrong. As I said, it’s the bare minimum!” he coughs. “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that, not when you weren’t the one at fault.”

And at the culmination of his words, his actions, and now, your feelings—you can’t help but cry, tears falling down your cheeks as you let out a quiet sob.

But your tears weren’t of sadness, or disappointment, no. They were far from that.

They were of happiness, for the realization that you finally obtained what you’ve longed for in your life, what your heart always dreamed of since the moment you had conscience: to find the man that would do anything for you; prove you such… cherish you….

“I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—cry.” You’d say, laughing nervously as you do your best to wipe away the falling tears. “It’s the 2nd time you’ve seen me do this, and we’re not even that close—”

“What difference does it make, if you’re going to be my girlfriend either way?” He attempts to joke, lighten up the mood so as to get you to stop crying, but when you don’t respond is when he notes he might’ve greatly miscalculated the moment, feeling nothing but a jerk. “I—forget what I said, I shouldn’t—

“I…I’ll have to think about it.” You begin softly through sniffles. “It all depends on where we go on our first date.”

His heart soars for you.

“I know a place that might push you into considering it.” He teases, and for the first time, of many to come, he makes you blush.

“…We shall see, then.” You chuckle, continuing to wipe some of the tears off your face, until Naoya wins you to it by swiping them with his thumb. The gesture, alongside his closeness, further flusters you, but makes you feel good, nonetheless.

If being with him means you’d get this kind of attention, this kind of care, and the promise that your feelings will be reciprocated….

Then you wouldn’t mind giving love a second chance.

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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nothomegal · 4 months

Text

“The little owl family” (Part 6)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: a very light reference to suicidal thoughts at the beginning.

Word Count: 4k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

It's been a day or two after that late meeting between (S/N) and Michael. And... Things went oddly well from then! The little girl became more relaxed in his presence, and would often send him small waves when (Y/N) wasn't looking, and Michael would often answer with the same little wave. It became a little secret game of theirs, it was simple yet fun. The numerous close calls of getting caught or suspected by the older sibling would always awake the childish mischief inside of the man, the possibility to fool around a bit made him feel oddly comfortable and at ease, like momentarily experiencing the childhood he never had.

He also noticed that (Y/N) themselves began to act more on ease around him. There weren't as many death glares sent at his direction, mostly just some cassual glances as if to check what he's up to or where he is. He won't lie, he kinda missed the attention he used to recieve, but this calmer and passive (Y/N) wasn't too bad neither, it kinda made him feel more normal and welcomed actually.

But soon he began to notice that maybe this sudden passivity didn't start out of nowhere, and the reason would be uncovered pretty soon...

. . .

A light groan escaped through (Y/N)'s lips as they make their way towards the kitchen after putting their little sister to sleep. While walking, they've been holding their bandaged hand close to their chest, an instinctive attempt to soothe the throbbing pain that only increased over the days. They're pretty sure their awful sleeping also played a huge part of why the pain is so unbearable. The countless nights they've spent guarding the door of (S/N)'s room and staying on high alert durning most of the day over the past week really drained them, both phisically and mentally. Leaving just enough energy to breathe and maintain a positive actitude around their sister.

They let a sight of relief once they stopped in front of a counter that had all the medicines in. The older sibling reaches for the container of painkillers only for it to be suddenly snatched away right under their nose.

Already knowing who did that, they slowly turn towards the responsible of it, tiredly glaring at that stupid emotionless masked face they hated with burning passion.

The two of them remained still, observing each other in silence. Michael didn't even tilt his head, meaning that he wasn't wondering or asking, no... He wanted to know what they're doing and he wanted to know it now.

—"...What?"— you eventually blurt out.

No answer or movement.

—"I'm not going to kill myself, I just need some medicine because my wrist hurts..."— you elaborate tiredly. —"Can you give in back, please?"—

Still nothing.

The container was actually at a reachable distance. If (Y/N) really wanted they could probably snatch it back. But of course they're not stupid to attempt that, Michael is a very deceiving specimen and things are never as simple as they look when it comes to him and his shenanigans, (Y/N) learned that the hard way.

—"Look. I'm. In. Pain. I need this because I no longer can handle it. Please, give me back the container."—

Nothing.

They grit their teeth out of anger and frustration. Is this bastard mocking them now? Silently enjoying their suffering? Or he's genuinely oblivious of their clearly not okay state?

—"You did this to me, remember?"— you snap as you lift your bandaged hand to show it. —"You broke my wrist, it's been hurting for days and right now it's freaking unbearable. So please, just give me the painki-"—

Their heart nearly stopped when their injured wrist was suddenly grabbed by the masked man. All (Y/N) could do now is stay frozen and helplessly stare at the black eye sockets of the rubber mask, which were staring right back at their shocked expression. They didn't even notice their hands became shaky, anxiety slowly flooding their mind as they suddenly remember who is the man in front of them.

Michael Myers, the man who escaped Smith's Grove by killing with his bare hands anyone who stayed on his way, the man who scarred his own little sister for life by kidnapping her and killing everyone dear to her just because, the man that somehow escaped death and kept his reign of terror for an entire year without anyone being able to do anything... This man, this monster did horrible things, things that he can do to them whever he wants, and he may do it right now as punishment for their boldness and lack of self preservation.

(Y/N) doesn't even know what face they're making, their emotions are too unstable. The stress, frustration and exhaustion are way too much to handle right now. They can't even use the energy to mantain a stone face, not when they're trying to keep themselves from breaking down on the floor and scream out of the frustration.

They just want it to stop. They want him to go away and leave them and their sister alone. They want to stop feeling worry every second of their existence, to stop these anxiety spikes whenever the blade of his knife runs through their body as he teases them, to stop feeling fear whenever his dark gaze moves away from them and is casted on their little sister, to stop feeling guilt that creeps through them whenever they see sadness appear on the little girl's face when she catches them being upset, they wish they could make her smile again, please, make her real smile return...

They... They just want to stop feeling in danger... Feeling hopeless... Feeling like they failed...

Please...

Please... Make it all stop.

Whatever look they had, it was enough to make Michael suddenly let go of their arm. However, instead of walking away or stand still, he steps forward and closer to them, body langage unreadable as always.

(Y/N) doesn't move, they don't even look at him at this point. They simply let their arms fall limply on their sides and lower their gaze, not even noticing the hot tears sliding down their face.

They're so tired, they're done.

Their breath hitched when their body made contact with Michael's larger and warmer one, following comes the sensation of something equally solid and warm wrapping around their form in a firm grip.

The embrace was tight, maybe even tighter that the one from the night he broke in. It was hard to breathe, though (Y/N) is unsure if it's due Michael's strength or their own choked sobs they could no longer hold back. This gesture, though simple, broke them completely...

The more they quietly cried, the tighter the embrace got, as if the man was really trying to force them to spit all the angst out, and maybe he was. It's no secret that Michael has no knowlege about comfort, it's something he lacked most of his life after all. But now, right after seeing their gaze change, everything inside of him is yelling to grab (Y/N) and never let go. Their gaze... Oh, he knows that look.

That look on their eyes... It wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, it wasn't even hate. It was something dull, dull and lifeless, almost pleading for him to...

He presses his masked face against them. The only thought of having their blood on him makes him feel weird. Seeing (Y/N), who's usually composed, strong willed and straight up wild when it comes to the safety of their sister, so weak and broken in his arms, made the man feel very odd, a nasty and unpleasant type of odd.

—"...You."—

They grumble through gritted teeth as they press their forhead against his shoulder, as if really trying to hide their face.

—"I hate you..."—

He can feel (Y/N)'s fist collide with his back. Though the impact wasn't weak at all, it wasn't enough to make Michael let go, all the opposite, he only brought them closer.

—"I hate you."—

They repeat a bit lounder, tone cold yet broken.

—"Why do you still tormenting me? Why?... Why don't you just... J-Just..."—

Their voice breaks at the end of the sentence and is replaced by more cries. The punches soon ceased too, their hand slowly sliding off Michael's back. Soon their sobs began to quiet down and turn into ragged uneven breaths. They are mad, at themselves, at this man, at the world, at fucking everything!... But what pisses them off the most is that this bastard, the main responsible of their mysery, the devil everyone knows for the atrocities he commited, he's... He's somehow comforting them... Genuinely comforting them...

—"Why are you doing this?..."—

Silence.

—"Why are you making it look like you care?..."—

Because he does.

—"Why?... Why?"—

They kept repeating the same question over and over despite knowing that they will never get an answer. And to be fair, even if Michael could answer, he wouldn't. He doesn't know himself what he's doing or where this attachment came from or leads to, all he knows is that he desires to have (Y/N) close, hold into them like a predator into it's pray and never ever let go. But even with this unholy obsession, he can't deny the strange sense of comfort and completion (Y/N) brings him just by being around. Ever since (S/N) questioned him about his intentions and the strange attachment with the older sibling, he couldn't unsee or deny the way they make him feel. And even when they say they hate him, glare at him, try to hurt him... Even after all these unwelcoming actions, he just can't stop himself from wanting them around, from wanting them...

The two remain like this for a long time, even after (Y/N) stopped talking and crying they didn't move.

(Y/N) was a mess, both emotionally and mentally, yet they couldn't deny the fact of feeling a tiny bit better after letting it all out. Michael's grip on them remained tight, strong like steel, impossible to escape. It was like a cage... But a very needed cage.

No matter how much they try to deny it, deep down (Y/N) knows that they needed this, they needed someone to hold them tight as they spit all their concerns, pain and frustrations out. But that means nothing, that doesn't change the way they view Michael. Though his gesture is laudable, how do they know it's genuine? How do they know he's not taking advantage of them? Could this be his attempt to deceive them? Make them emotionaly dependent? And for what?... For what?!

What does he want from them for fuck's sake?!

They take one last deep breath, shuting down the swarm of thoughts and questions and finally calming down enough to speak properly.

—"Alright... I'm better, a bit better."—

But Michael made no movements, his grip remained strong.

They sigh again, a bit more annoyed.

—"Michael, really. I'm okay now. I-"—

They tried to lift their hands up to push themselves away, but a sudden yelp came out when they moved their injured wrist too harshly, making them recoil and Michael to finally let go.

—"Okay-... I'm not okay."— you grumble as you hold your bandaged wrist closely, trying to soothe the throbing pain.

When the ache somehow stabilized and (Y/N) looked up at Michael again, they were surprised to see him holding their car keys right in front of their face. They stare at the item a bit dumbfounded, questioning where the hell he wants them to go, until it eventually clicks.

They know what he wants them to do, and this is a golden oportunity to recieve propper help to their injury. But the anxiety and guilt of leaving their little sister alone, again, at night and with this man, is already eating them alive.

A couple of seconds of inactivity pass, and though (Y/N) was taking quite some time to decide, Michael remained stoic as a statue, patiently waiting for them to decide.

—"I..."— you sigh again, but with more determination. —"Nevermind. You're right, I need to go."—

They dry off the remaining tears on their face with a single rough wipe with their forearm. They have to quit crying, they embarassed themselves enough by having a meltdown in front of this bastart, which apparently was so bad and pity that he had to comfort them. Beside, they must stay strong, not just for their own sake but also for (S/N).

They reach for the key, but don't take it right away.

—"The terms are the same i suppose. I stay quiet about you and you don't disturb my sister, yes?"—

There is no movements from the man. Despite not seeing his eyes, (Y/N) had a gut feeling that he understood and accepted the deal. They mutter a quiet 'okay' before eventually taking the keys, without any issue suprisingly. Once all was settled, the older sibling steps aside but doesn't go towards the front door right away, instead they walk towards the stairs.

—"I'll make a quick check on (S/N) before I go, okay?"— you quickly explain before going up, not bothering to see if he did anything in response or not.

Suprisingly, Michael doesn't follow them, not this time. He remained at the bottom with his head turned towards the staircase.

To some the attention and worry (Y/N) shows for their little sister may seem overwhelming, but for Michael it is something to admire. They always place the little one in front of their own needs and safety, always checking on her and making sure she's safe and happy. Even after he came into their life, he saw the ammount of effort (Y/N) had always put into mantaining (S/N) away from him, to keep her hopes strong and always mantain that happy smile despite knowing it will dissappear as soon as he comes near...

(Y/N) is a good sibling, a very good and caring sibling. Is that how Judith could've been with him if given a chance? Would she ever made the same effort to treat him the way (Y/N) treats their little one? Would he be able to be as good to Angel? Was it too much to ask for her to remember him, to know who he is, to know her big brother was back home and be together as family ones again? Was it really so much to ask?...

"I wanna help you..."

"...But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you... But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you, but I don't..."

"YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"

Something inside of his chest squeezed uncomfortably, painfuly almost. He still remember these words and the way 'boo' screamed at him and the hate in her voice. It hurts, it hurts so much every time he remembers... He doesn't like the pain, it upsets him. Just why couldn't she recognize him?... What should he have done for that night to turn out different?...

The sound of footsteps softly going down the stair broke his train of thoughts.

—"Good news, (S/N) is still asleep. Doubt she will wake up until sunrise but I wouldn't go upstairs anyways, that girl sure wakes up from the randomest noises."— you comment quite casually.

However, they suddenly stop in their tracks when they reached the bottom and noticed that Michael wasn't following them with his gaze. A tiny detail that threw them off quite a lot.

—"...Are you alright?"—

The question made the tall man pause and realize that his hands were tightly clutched into fists. He slowly relaxes them, though an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth and the general tension in his body remained.

Despite not having a clear answer, (Y/N) gives him a somehow knowledgeable look.

—"Remembered something bad?"—

He stays unresponsive for a moment, until he moves his head, giving a slow and barely noticible nod.

(Y/N) of course got a tag surprised, since it's the very first time Michael actually does something to answer them instead of staring blankly and let them figure out the message on their own. They don't focus on the sudden gesture though, instead they let out a small hum as they nod as well.

—"It happens... I too remember things I don't want to, a pretty nasty feeling gotta say."—

No answer.

(Y/N) seemed like they wanted to say more things, they decided against it and instead resumed their walk towards the front door. They stop to put some shoes and jacket, not minding too much the fact of them wearing pijamas. But before exiting, they look back at Michael's tall figure staring at them from the darkness, his pale masked face being the only visible feature.

—"I'll do my best to return before dawn, but no promisses."—

No reaction from the man, as expected.

They turn around and open the front door and pause again.

—"...Thank you, Michael."—

And after these words, they finaly step outside and softly close the door.

The masked man only tilted his head at this last sentence. Though these were three very simple words, he couldn't ignore how they affected him.

And the tension and ache from his memories were now completely gone, as if these bad feelings never came in the first place...

. . .

After a long wait and a ton of scolding from the doctors for neglecting their sleep and health, (Y/N) was finally driving back home. Luckly their wrist is healing fine, the sourse of the pain were the bad placement of the bandages and the overuse of their injured hand. Though they don't remember all the details, it seems like they'll be okay.

It was already dawn and the sun was slowly raising. However, they weren't too concerned, it was still early and there is no way (S/N) is awake, that girl sure enjoys lazy mornings after all.

And even after arriving home everything seemed in order, no weird vibes coming out the building and no funny feelings in their gut.

But the second they enter and close the front door...

—"(Y/N)!"—

A happy joyful voice exclaimed their name before something small launched at them into a hug with enough force to knock out some oxygen out of them. Nevertheless, the older sibling miraculously manages to mantain the footing and catch the little girl in a hug.

—"(S/N)?! How long you've been awake?!"— you ask in surprise and concern.

—"Oh... Uh..."— she thinks while poking her cheek with her finger. —"I think the little arrow on the clock was pointing at the number 5."— she innocently replies.

—"You've been awake since 5 of the morning?!"—you almost exclaim as you kneel down and take her hands. —"Are you okay? Were you scared? Did you know I was at the hospital? Did Michael do anything to you?"—

As an answer to their waterfall of question, the little girl childishly giggles.

—"It was all okay! But... I did get a tiny bit scared when I woke up and you weren't in the house, I though my nightmate of you dissappearing became true!... But then I saw Michael, and he explained that you went to see a doctor!"—

—"Michael... Explained?"— you arch your brow.

As soon as that question left their mouth, the tall man appeared at the entrance of the living room with a small toy ambulance in his hand.

—"Oh..."— you blink as you stare at the small item. —"I... I guess that makes sense how he did it."— you momentarily relax, but suddenly tense up again as you redirect your gaze to your sister. —"But seriously are you okay? Were you out your room this whole time?"—

The little girl shrinks in her place a bit flustered and embarrassed.

—"Well... I know you said last time not to exit my room when I had to stay with Michael, I swear I tried to follow your request! But..."— she bites her lip as she shrinks more. —"Please don't be mad, but I was just too scared to stay up there. You never left at night before! And... And when mom and dad left it was night too and-... And-..."— she starts hiccuping a bit by the end.

The little girl is interrupted when her sibling suddenly hugs her, holding her in a tight, secure and loving embrace.

—"Oh songbird, no... I'm so sorry if I came harsh on you, there is no way I can be mad at you for feeling scared for me."— you say as you place your head over hers. —"The first time I left, I was scared too... I was scared that when I come back you wouldn't be here..."—

A small gasp escaped the little girl and she quickly leans back to face her sibling.

—"You have nightmares of me disappearing too?!"— she asks quite surprised.

—"Yeah, I do."— you reply softly. —"Ever since I managed to convince the old ugly people to let me keep you, I sometimes have nightmares where they take you away."—

(S/N) frowns a bit, her childish mind not expecting that her usually super brave and calm sibling had such fears and concerns.

—"So please, don't feel bad, okay? Let's just be happy and celebrate that I made it home safely and you didn't disappear, yes?"—

—"Yeah... Yeah you're right!"— she exclaims, her happy-go-lucky tone returning. —"And Michael actually wasn't that bad! Though I wasn't in my room we still did our own things! Like, I presented him my toy dinosaurs while he stayed in thaaaaat corner over there and listened."—

—"Uh-huh..."— you mutter quietly as you glance at the tall man, who only tilted his head.

Man, if what the little girl is saying is true, then (Y/N) definetely owes Myers a medal for handling their sister's speech. Don't get them wrong, they love (S/N) to death and absolutely adore when she shares her interests and stories she invented about her toys or for their 'owl siblings' series! But sometimes she may get a bit too engaged with it.

Wait... Could that mean that Michael is being genuine with-.

—"And so... (Y/N)."—

(S/N) voice calling them snapped the older sibling back to reality.

—"About the 'celebrate' thingy..."— she says, suddenly shy.

—"You want me to make a cake, aren't you?"— you throw her an unimpressed look.

—"Yes!"— she giggles as she plays with her fingers. —"The cherry one, pretty please?"—

(Y/N) only rolls their eyes with a smile as they stand up and start taking off their jacket and shoes.

—"I guess I could make us a cake, remember the ingredients we need?"—

The little girl practically ignites in joy.

—"Yes! Yes I remember! Let me see if we have the all!"— she hurriedly says the last part before running into the kitchen.

The older sibling only chuckled as they finish undressing. They start going towards the kitchen but stopped right at the entrance, eyes already placed on the tall man.

—"Have you ever tried a cherry chip cake?"— you suddenly ask after a short pause.

The man slowly tilts his head to the other side.

—"I'll take it as a no. I'll make enough for you to have some too."— you pause. —"Don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean I trust you or enjoy having you around, but... I definetely owe it to you, for keeping an eye on (S/N) and such, and... And for what you did tonight."— you throw him a tiny smile before walking into the kitchen.

Michael didn't follow, not yet. His mind kept repeating that last image of (Y/N) over and over, from their suprisingly calm voice to the soft look in their eyes. But what would make his breath shake was the smile. It wasn't fake, it wasn't nervous, it wasn't out of politeness... It was a genuine, small yet sencere, dedicated to him and him only smile.

He lowers his gaze and places his hand on his chest, gripping the fabric of his coverals tightly.

It's hard to describe what exactly this set of emotions is, it all feels new. All he knows is that he suddenly feels warmth, a very soft and pleasant type of warmth...

It feels very familiar... Yet so distant and forgoten... As if he haven't experience these emotions for a long, long time...

...

...Happy.

He feels happy.

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #gn reader #slasher x reader

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princess-tulip-writes · 11 months

Text

my illyrian baby • cassian

genre: fluff

summary: mornings in valeris are magical, but a certain baby bat doesn’t appreciate it when his girl admires the starry dawn by herself.

a/n: this just a quick morning thought i had while getting ready for work :) its not edited so im sorry.

there was not a single sight like this one; speckles of starlight painting the sky as the sun rose, shades of pink and orange swallowing the dark night as morning greeted the night court. the air was crisp and welcoming, like a baby fawn in the mossy woods during spring time, and your morning cup of tea seemed to taste better than usual as you sat on your porch, enjoying the sunrise.

stealing a few moments for yourself before being clung to all day was a ritual you wished you could maintain every morning, like this one. something about valeris made loneliness feel like a warm hug, as if you were never truly alone, and perhaps you weren’t. perhaps, maybe in some way, the souls of your loved ones stuck with you here, always lingering and watching over you. valeris was a very mysterious place, even after centuries of residency you still had so many secrets to uncover about the city, and it certainly wouldn’t surprise you if sprits were trapped here, following their dreams in the after life that had yet to accomplish in their life and finding happiness in the city of starlight—at least that’s what you hoped anyway.

taking a long sip of your tea, you sighed contently as the silence of the morning enveloped you in a tight embrace, causing a content smile to tug at your lips. silence was rare for you these days, not that your mate’s roudy nature annoyed you or anything, the occasional silence was nice though. it was new, refreshing to take some time to yourself. but, after a full hour, you missed him. you missed his warmth, his touch, his laugh, his voice, his face—

as if the both of your mind’s were linked, the loud groaning of hardwood sounded from behind the open door, and your smiled wider as sandalwood and mountain air found you, filling the fresh morning air with his scent as he neared.

he was clumsy in the early morning hours, even at the beginning of training most days, so when his large feet stumbled over nothing, you didn’t flinch.

“baby…”

his whine turned into a yawn, causing your gaze to finally tear away from the sunrise and settle on him for the second time today, but the first time seeing him awake today. you may have stolen a loving glance at him before you slipped outside earlier that morning, but you’d never boost his ego like that by telling him.

his arms stretched over his head and his wings flared out completely as he stepped onto the porch, finally having enough room to fully expand to stretch all of his crampy limbs. especially the large wings that spend most of their time tucked tightly behind his back. his hair was a tangled mess and his face was puffy with a good night’s sleep, yet he still looked like the most beautiful male you had ever seen.

he smiled lazily at you as he caught your gaze.

“g’morning.” he yawned as his arms fell limp to his sides. his wings tucked in slightly, but still stayed flared and you were sure it was just him showing off. not that you minded of course.

you returned his smile. “good morning, cass.”

cassian’s hazel eyes seemed to clear up at the awaited sound of your voice. waking up without the warmth of his mate atop of his chest was not something he was happy about, and finding you star gazing without him caused a pout to replace his smile.

“why’d you leave me?” he whined, his shoulders and wings slumping as he stepped closer to you.

his arms wrapped around your middle, and his face nuzzled in your neck before he took a deep inhale of your preshower scent. the natural smell of your skin in the morning air always made cassian’s heart feel warm and full, if he had it his way, you wouldn’t shower at all.

but that’s gross, you always remind him when he suggests the idea. so he drops it and enjoys the short lived scent while he can.

your free hand, the one that didn’t have a glass mug in it’s hold, settled on top of his larger hand as he began to take a handful of your chub.

“i wanted to watch the sun rise before it was too late.” you answered softly.

he huffed into your neck. “coulda woke me up. maybe i wanted to watch it with you.”

a soft kiss was pressed to your neck after he spoke, causing your lips to upturn.

“i’m sorry.” you whispered.

you couldn’t explain to him that you wanted some time to yourself, even if you knew he would try to understand. he was sensitive when it came to you, and although he would pretend to be understanding, he would feel a bit rejected and most likely pout all day. so, instead, you played it off.

“wake me next time.” he grumbled into your skin, sending vibrations down your shoulders. “please.”

his plea was a soft whine, giving away just how grumpy he was about waking up alone, and you couldn’t fight the guilt that built up from it.

“i will, i’m sorry.”

your hand squeezed his reassuringly, sending strokes of love and apologizes down the bond to soothe him from within. it seemed to have worked because his arms tightened around you slightly and his breathing slowed down. the tickle of his stubble scratched your neck as he nuzzled in closer, wanting to savor the feeling of you before the day begins.

for a few moments, silence filled the air as you continued to watch the dawn turn into skies of blue, sipping the rest of your tea as you both enjoyed each other.

“missed you, sweetheart.”

you chuckled. “you had me all night. i was only gone for an hour.”

cassian groaned in disapproval to your answer and nipped your neck playfully, causing you to yelp in surprise. his soft tongue was quick to run along the sore spot, and soothed the irritated skin under his wet mouth. “still felt like forever.”

you rolled you eyes at him but felt a sense of appreciation for his need for you. it was flattering coming from a male like him; powerful and so so sexy. how the hell did you get so lucky?

“i don’t like waking up without you.”

you turned to look at him, as difficult as it was given his position, and placed a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. his hair was soaked with his scent, causing your ovaries to scream out for him.

“neither do i, my love.”

his arms tightened around you again, but this time it was an action of security, to remind him that you were there now, in his arms and making no effort to abandon his embrace. your body felt as if it was made for him, the soft plush feel of you against his hard body was safe, like home. he never wanted to see how empty the feeling would be without it.

a few more minutes passed as the two of you fell into a conversation about the day ahead, sorting out each other’s schedules and knowing the where abouts of each mate for assurance that you’ll both be okay. this routine wasn’t rare, in fact it was nearly a daily occurrence given how scared you both are after the war of losing each other. cassian was terrified especially, the thought of losing his whole world, his mate, his girl, made his stomach queasy and bile rise in his throat. without you his life would be nothing, he wouldn’t survive.

as the sky became blue, a rumble of your mate’s stomach brought you back to the reality of your usual mornings.

“want me to make you some pancakes? i’ll add the chocolate chips you love and some powdered sugar.”

his ears perked immediately at the slight mention of food, let alone your cooking. the male was convinced that every me you ever made him was with love, even when you were angry with him. you put so much thought into how he liked things, adding special ingredients you know he likes and serving it to him with a smile and a cheek kiss most days.

you made everything so much better.

a grin creeped on his features as he lifted his face from the crevice of your neck. his eyes finally met yours, and he couldn’t stop his lips from finding the skin of your temple as you looked up at him. next, was your lips. his eyes darted down to your lips, and before you could catch on, he dove in and took your breath away.

the pouty illyrian was no longer there, now the general was awake and greeting his wife for the first time that morning with a kiss.

your lips molded together, tongues smoothing against each other as his hands found your hips, flipping you over to face him so he could get to you deeper.

with you, he always wanted more. nothing was ever enough, he needed all of you.

“i love you.” he mumbled against you.

you smiled into the kiss at the sound of voice, setting down your mug on the table behind you without disconnecting, then wrapping your arms around his middle, his strong, hard torso.

“i love you too, my illyrian baby. always.”

#cassian 🌷#cassian fluff #cassian x reader #cassian x reader fluff #acotar x reader #acotar blurb #acotar fluff

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narumi-gens · 1 month

Text

From the Ashes | Part One

Mei Mei x f!Reader

summary: Mei Mei arrives at your uncle's estate as a con woman. She leaves it as your savior.

warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, angst with a happy ending, historical (1920s) au, gothic romance, total rip-off of park chan-wook's masterpiece the handmaiden, con woman!mei mei, sexually and emotionally repressed reader, reader seems to be losing it a little at times, mentioned suicide, minor references to early 20th century japanese politics and colonization (for the history nerds)

words: 3k

notes: after two years, we're finally here! go watch the handmaiden if you've never seen it. it's maybe one of the most romantic movies of all time.

series masterlist

Before deciding to take on a job, Mei Mei always makes sure that she knows everything she possibly can about a potential mark. She learns their history, their routines, their likes and dislikes, as well as what skeletons are hidden away in their closets.

She bribes maids and chauffeurs and everyone else working in service who are treated as if they’re invisible. She digs into every record she can access through any means necessary. Whatever it takes to uncover every dirty secret the mark in question is hiding, she does.

It’s only when she’s sure that she’s left no stone unturned that she decides whether or not to go through with the job.

So, when word reaches her about the pretty little heiress sitting on top of a massive fortune, she finds herself intrigued and begins her discovery process. The picture that begins to form as she does so isn’t anything that she finds all that surprising or interesting.

You were orphaned at a young age and put in the care of your aunt and uncle. Your aunt died only a few years later, leaving your uncle behind as your sole guardian. From what she can gather, your life has been a sheltered one, as is usual for a woman of your status. You don’t seem to have many — if any — friends. The only people you spend any significant amount of time with are the staff working on your uncle’s estate and the man himself.

She’s almost certain that the remote location of the estate, which is nestled deep in the countryside, only contributes to the isolation. But it leaves her with a problem. With so few people who interact with you on a regular basis, she’s left with fewer sources of information than she would like.

However, what she is able to do is intimately familiarize herself with the terms of your inheritance. To inherit, you must marry and until you do, your entire fortune is locked away in a trust. The only funds accessible are the generous annual allowance provided to your guardian — your uncle.

Your inheritance is large enough that she decides to move forward with her con despite the gaps in her research on you. After all, big risks warrant big rewards.

So, she turns her time and energy into crafting her plan: under the guise of a lesser noblewoman, she’ll earn your uncle’s attention and an invitation to his lavish estate. Once she’s there, she’ll prey on your innocence and naivete, seducing you until she can sneak you away in the middle of the night and marry you, only to then cash out your inheritance and do away with you.

And then she’ll laugh without looking back as she makes off with your entire fortune.

When the time comes to put her plan into action, the first part goes as smoothly as she anticipated. Your uncle makes regular trips to Tokyo for business and Mei Mei ensures that when he does, they cross paths. Japan’s imperial ambitions in the region and colonization of Korea have only benefited the man’s financial status over the years, yet he’s still always looking for ways to grow his obscene amount of wealth.

All it takes are a few vague allusions to her being interested in both a new investment opportunity and a new husband for him to take the bait and she’s secured herself an open invitation to his estate to stay for as long as she desires.

She arrives in the countryside and at your uncle’s manor a week later and finds herself thankful that the car that was sent for her has a small glass window that separates the backseat from the driver. The partition allows her a moment to herself to scoff at the sight of the large house, which consists of two massive wings — one in the traditional Japanese style of wood and paper, and the other a Western-style multistory building of brick and stone.

The house reflects the country’s vast and hurried ambitions to Westernize over the past fifty years. Mei Mei has no fondness for tradition. But likewise, she looks equally down upon the uncritical admirers of the West. Everything she detests about the men who have led this country through the past two eras can be represented by this monstrosity of a house.

Of course, when the car comes to a stop in front of the entrance, she makes sure that it’s the awed noblewoman who greets your uncle and not the derisive criminal. The staff are lined up in two neat rows to welcome her, and standing right in front of them is you. And you’re everything that she’s pictured.

You’re prim and proper, your posture perfectly straight and your head respectfully tilted down. Your outfit is fashionable and undoubtedly expensive, but also much more conservative than what’s being worn in Tokyo. Yet when your uncle introduces the two of you and you lift your chin, it’s all she can do to keep a delicate eyebrow from quirking.

Because where she’s expecting to find a shy, innocent, and naive flower that's ripe for picking, she instead finds a cold, sharp ice princess looking back at her in return.

All you offer is a polite bow and a courteous, “It’s nice to meet you, Mei-san.”

However, it’s more than enough to pique her interest, leaving her curious about what lies hidden beneath your thick, hardened exterior.

And just as she’s planned, Mei Mei has ample time to find out. While she does have to spend her evenings with your uncle, entertaining his pathetic flirtations and dreams of acquiring her fictional fortune, business occupies his days, meaning that she can fill hers with you.

The two of you share tea in the sitting room and afternoon walks through the estate’s sprawling grounds. You sit alongside one another and read in the library. She watches as you sketch in a book beneath the towering sakura tree in the garden, although she hasn’t been able to catch a glimpse of what fills its pages.

As she spends more time with you, she begins to take notice of how your hands are always clothed in a pair of gloves that never extend past your wrists. The gloves are rarely ever the same set — sometimes they’re silk with a lace cuff, sometimes a rich leather that creaks with every absent movement of a finger, sometimes they’re the same shade as your skin tone and don’t stand out at all.

There’s something about the way that she never sees you without them that makes her think they’re more than a mere fashion accessory, but she can’t say for certain what the reason could be.

Your uncle encourages her to get to know you better, telling her that he hopes she can soften you with a woman’s touch. One night, with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a cigarette perched between two fingers, he mentions that it’s something that you’ve been without since you were young and your aunt tragically took her own life.

“There’s a touch of madness that runs in that family. My late wife suffered from it and I’ve spent all these years wondering whether my niece escaped it,” he says with a sigh of pity. “At times, I find myself unsure if she has.”

The man demurs to provide any more details, insisting that doing so would be too ghastly for the sensitive ears of a woman, particularly a pair as fine as hers.

His refusal to speak further on the matter to protect her propriety is one of the many things he gets wrong as she’s not only heard much worse, but she’s seen much worse. She’s done much worse.

None of it matters though as she’s already aware through her research into the family that your aunt’s body was found one morning hanging in the garden from the same sakura tree where you spend so many of your afternoons. What your uncle does let slip is that you were the one to find the body.

Finally, Mei Mei has at least one piece of the puzzle that is you.

Another piece is quick to come as it doesn’t take long for her to realize that for all of her scheming and plotting, you’ll never fall prey to whatever trap she manages to set. You’re much too sharp and distrusting for that, keeping her at a distance no matter how much she tries to close it. For all of the hours that you’ve spent together, you’ve never offered her more than cool formalities.

As she contemplates how to adjust her plan in light of this, the seeds of an idea are planted one day as she strolls around the house’s exterior, committing to memory every entrance and exit and window under the guise of appreciating the building’s unique architecture. Just as she rounds a corner of part of the Japanese-styled wing, she stops at the scene that she stumbles upon.

Three housemaids stand in a row facing her, although with their heads shamefully tilted down and gazes fixed firmly upon the gravel path, her sudden presence goes unnoticed. She takes a few steps back, peeking out from the side of the building to watch you as you go down the line, striking each of them harshly across the cheek one by one.

Despite the distance, she can hear the crack of your gloved palm meeting each of their faces and the cries they let out in return. However, she misses whatever scathing words you spit that have the maids looking so fearful. Suddenly, your hand darts out to grab the braid of the girl standing on the right, yanking it so hard that Mei Mei can hear her pained yelp clearly as you force her to the ground.

When you look down at the cowering girl at your feet, continuing to direct your vitriol at her, she’s finally able to catch a glimpse of your face. Across your pretty features, she finds the same coldness that she’s spent the last weeks becoming familiar with since she arrived. You then turn back to the other maids who flinch despite your hands remaining at your sides.

As much as she wants to stay and watch the rest of the situation unfold, Mei Mei decides to make her retreat. She can’t risk being discovered. This new piece of information is something to be tucked away for use when it serves her best.

Knowing that every set of eyes and ears on this estate belongs to your uncle, she wonders what the man’s reaction will be when word inevitably reaches him about your treatment of the staff.

However, dinner passes as it always does without any incident. Your uncle discusses his business in an attempt to impress Mei Mei. Mei Mei acts coy in return. And you speak only when spoken to — which is rarely.

The only proof that anything happened at all that afternoon is the red and slightly swollen cheek of the maid who fills your water glass and the line of tension in her frame as she does so. Mei Mei sees the way your uncle’s eyes barely pass over the maid’s face and realizes that the man already knows about this streak of cruelty in you, this hint of madness in you. He just doesn’t care.

As she watches you eat one grain of rice at a time, bringing your chopsticks back and forth to your plush lips in a delicate motion, she begins to recognize the darkness she sees in you. It’s similar to the darkness she sees in herself.

The next afternoon, she decides to confront you about the incident over tea, curious to see how you’ll respond.

“Why were you disciplining the maids yesterday?” she asks. She hopes to catch you off guard by both the knowledge that there was another party present for the maids’ punishment and by how suddenly she’s broached the subject.

However, you continue to defy her expectations.

“They were gossiping,” you answer simply, your temperament calm and undisturbed as you continue to lightly stir your tea before setting down the small spoon.

“Is that enough of an offense to warrant a slap to the face?” There’s no judgment or criticism in her tone, only pure curiosity. But the question is enough to have you lifting your gaze to meet hers, a cold look in your eyes as you do.

“I want them to be miserable,” you tell her indifferently as you lift your teacup to take a small, ladylike sip. It’s Mei Mei who now finds herself slightly surprised by your blunt response. “It makes life just a bit more bearable.”

She knows how to read people. And she can see what it is that you’re not saying. It’s not just that you want them to be miserable. It’s that you want them to be as miserable as you.

It’s the final piece she needs to solve the puzzle and she hides her satisfaction behind the teacup she brings to her own red-painted lips. A con woman’s greatest asset is her ability to improvise and she has always prided herself on her ability to think quickly, so the solution to her problem comes quickly.

Despite the risks, she’ll include you in her plan and turn you from unknowing target to willing accomplice.

The next afternoon when you both are alone on a stroll deep in the gardens and away from any unwanted ears, she makes her move.

“The terms of your inheritance are rather strict,” she casually remarks and there’s a slightest pause in your step that betrays your surprise at the deviation in perfunctory small talk and she can’t help but feel satisfied with how she’s finally caught you unawares. “You need to marry in order to inherit.”

It’s not posed as a question but as the statement of fact that it is. You remain silent by her side, seemingly unsure of where this topic of conversation will lead.

“Would you like to marry me?” she asks, a coy smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. It’s a question that provokes an immediate reaction from you.

“I have no plans to marry. Ever,” you’re quick to tell her. There’s a forcefulness in your tone that leaves little room for doubt and Mei Mei can feel the urge to giggle threatening to bubble up. It reminds her of the way spoiled children refuse to eat what’s been put before them at dinner.

“Yes, for us, marriage is just another cage,” she muses, settling for a thoughtful hum instead of outright laughter. Any lingering humor dissipates as she poses her next question, knowing how important it is that you don’t misread her or her intentions. “But what if I said that this one would set you free?”

You come to a stop so suddenly that it takes her a few steps before she realizes that you’re no longer beside her. When she turns around, she finds you watching her with a guarded expression. Your posture is perfectly straight, but she can see that it’s due to the line of tension in your shoulders rather than the etiquette lessons she knows were drilled into you as a child.

“I arrived here with a plan: to seduce you, steal your fortune, and then get rid of you.” With each word, she takes a step towards you until only a few feet separate you.

Your gaze remains locked on hers despite how you bristle with the visible urge to put a respectable distance between you once more. Mei Mei can’t help but smirk yet again, despite knowing that doing so will only feed into your distrust.

“But as soon as I met you, I knew that you would never fall for such a ploy.” She then takes on an air that’s only slightly more serious. “So, I’ll make a proposal of a different kind. I’ll spirit you away from your dull life in this country estate and give you your freedom. In return, we’ll split your inheritance right down the middle.”

While she doesn’t expect you to leap at her offer, she at least hoped for a hint of awe in your eyes at the idea of a life without the restrictions placed on you by both your status and society. Instead, you continue to give her nothing.

As the silence stretches on, she prepares herself to mention that fifty percent is more than what she would normally offer an accomplice. But before the words can even form on her tongue, you turn your back to her and begin to walk back in the direction of the house.

Part of Mei Mei expects to be hauled away by the police in the next few hours, but there’s something about your demeanor that keeps her from cutting her losses and running. For how unreceptive you seemed to be towards her proposal, it was your reaction to being offered your freedom that gives her pause.

The tension you carried didn’t stem from outrage, but from self-restraint.

That evening at dinner, you act as if nothing happened. You give your uncle the same perfunctory greeting, you bow lightly to her, and then you take your seat at the table.

She wonders if you just haven’t had a chance to be alone with your uncle and reveal her treachery, but when breakfast proceeds the same way, she realizes that you don’t intend to do anything with this new information. You’ll keep her nefarious secret to yourself, which gives her time to adapt.

Since her plan requires you to be a willing accomplice, there’s a fine line that needs to be walked so as not to scare you off. So, she decides to default to part of her original plan – she'll seduce you.

#tw suicide #mei mei x reader #mei mei #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #mei mei angst #jjk angst #mel writes #from the ashes

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the-magiarcheologist · 2 months

Text

Hooded Statues - Marunweem Ruins

Let me take you back to the begining, back to the discovery that inspired me to become a Magiarcheologist. This, in particular, inspired my passion for old ruins lying in the scottish highlands and my obsession for uncovering all of their secrets.

I already did one post about mysterious statues of Hooded Women placed in front of Isidora Morganach's house in Felcroft. But this was actually not the first time I encountered these types of Hooded Statues, strategically placed along a path to lead a passing traveler somewhere.

To the west of the dready hamlet of Marunweem, across the water, there is a small island, framed by two bridges.

Right as you come out of the floo flame, this is the view that you are greeted with:

That's right! several statues of women wearing a hood and holding a rose in their left hand and a wand in their right hand. And, like in the courtyard in front of Isidora Morchanach's house, these statues seem to be placed very intentionally, inviting you to go up to the castle ruins at the top.

If you follow the path, you come to the entrance of an underground tunnel, which leads you to stairs taking you directly inside the ruins. And on the ceiling directly above the stairs there are drawings of magical creatures.

Within the ruins you can usually find sheep or cows grazing and there is also a Merlin trial placed there (which actually begs the question: was this castle already a ruin when Merlin was alive?? Because otherwise, why would he have placed one of his trials in the middle of someone's home!? Or was the casle built on top of an existing Merlin trial? They thought those vine covered pillars and the swirl on the ground looked nice and incorporated them in the architecture?? Food for thought... 😂)

If you wander deeper inside the ruins, you will find a wall with another drawing of a magical creature, placed just above another set of stairs going down.

The stairs lead you to one of the many treasure caves found in the game. But among the many design for these sort of caves, this one leads you to a statue of a woman wearing a hood, this one has her face completely obscured and is holding a staff (more similar to the types of statues found in front of Isidora's house).

This is not the only treasure cave containing a Hooded Woman statue. There are several of those all over the map. But I still though it interesting that this particular cave was within these ruins marked by other Hooded Women statues and that the entrance of this cave was specifically marked by a drawing of a magical creature. I noticed that drawings of magical creatures are used in other places to mark the entrances of dungeons containing Hooded Women. For instance, there is a drawing of a magical creature on the wall just in front of the entrance to the dungeon in Korrow Ruins.

A last feature of this castle ruins is that, on the outer walls, there are several white markings.

(@superconductivebean don't know if you found those, since you were trying to map the location of all these marks in the game!)

These sort of white markings come in several shapes but this particular shape here seems to be the alchemical symbol for soapstone... (make of that what you will!)

And once you want to go out of the castle ruins, there is another statue, placed at the left of the stairs when you first enter the ruins, guiding you to the path on the other side of the island.

If you walk towards that statue, another statue appears, right in front of it, this time a statue of a wizard pointing a wand right at the statue of the Hooded Woman.

This statue of a wizard looks much more ancient that the statue of the Hooded Woman. It has celtic markings on it. A lot of spirals and some markings on the outside of his sleeve that look like suns? I'm not sure. I'm really puzzled by the presence of this statue here. It was probably already on this island before the castle was built and before the Hooded Statues of women were erected. Is this statue the reason this castle was built on this island specifically? You can actually find the same statue of the wizard pointing with his wand in other cairns dungeons in the game, so who is this wizard? Merlin himself? Someone else? Very puzzling...

Anyway, I leave you with a last view of Marunweem ruins, from the other side of the island compared to the floo flame where we came in:

It was really the discovery of this ruin and the statues surrounding it that convinced me that a lot of the world created in this game, even outside of Hogwarts, is intentional and hand-crafted. Each detail that you find, almost, tells it's own story. And this is also the discovery that convinced me that the statues of Hooded Women are not placed randomly, but are used very intentionally to guide the traveler to some points of interest!

After falling in love with Marunweem Ruins, I moved on to other mysteries. But Marunweem Ruins were not done with me and still had another secret to give!!

Recently, while researching something else entirely (trying to pinpoint the location of some ruins related to the mysterious Forgotten Witch), in the game files, I stumbled upon a Floo Flame location bearing the name of "Old Isidora Castle"

Of course I had to find out where this specific Floo Flame was! And lo and behold, the coordinates lead me straight to my beloved Marunweem Ruins and the Floo Flame located on the island!

That's yet another piece of evidence that Isidora (and not any of the other Keepers) is connected to these statues of Hooded Women.

Did Isidora build this castle? Did she live there at some point in her life? If so, why did she not hide a part of her triptych here? Why did she have two other secret hideouts (the Overlook Mine and the Mountain Cavern) where she worked? Plenty of mysteries left to uncover!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy theory #isidora morganach #Marunweem ruins #hooded statues

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thefallennightmare · 3 months

Text

Mercy-Three

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.

Summary: "Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her.

Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.

Authors Notes: Hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @cookiesupplier @lyschko666 @shilohrosechicken @thebadchic @iknownothingpeople @sammyjoeee @malice-ov-mercy @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @collapsedglasshouses

LETHIA

I sat in the darkness of the old building with a scatter of books in front of me and a face of pure rage. These texts were all wrong, they had to be. There was absolutely no way that Lucifer was the evil that this bible talked about. He never tempted anyone into any sin. He was valued in the Kingdom and so many other angels turned to him in times of despair; me included.

Kicking the bible away with my boot, I turned to the next book and perched it on my lap.

The Book of Enoch.

Watchers. Nephilim. The fall of angels.

All of those words replayed in my brain as I read through the book for what seemed like the third time, searching for an answer I subconsciously knew wasn’t there.

"The Grigori, who with their prince Satanail rejected the Lord of light,” I read the words out loud, my wavering voice echoing into the large space.

Slamming the book shut, I tossed it back into the pile with the others and quickly rose to my feet, done with my studying for the day. Ever since I thought I saw Lucifer, I spent the last handful of days searching all over the world for the books at my feet but could only search in the darkness of the night so as not to risk mortals seeing me.

I tried dream walking to find where Lucifer had ended up but only found myself walking into a dream of someone who wasn’t familiar. The only scene in front of me was a vast field of green overtaken by bloodshed and soot from what some may thought came from the burning woods behind me.

Although, I knew it wasn’t soot that covered the ground at my feet. It was something not many mortals saw quite often.

Angel dust.

It was only ever left behind after an intense battle, their energy staying behind in a variety of ways; most of the time in angel dust.

However, the destruction from the battle and angel dust weren’t what made my stomach twist in knots. It was the crumbled body that lay at my feet, blood pouring from a gash in his neck but I couldn’t see his face due to his long locks of hair covering it. The crow that seemed to follow me everywhere pecking away at the open wound on the man's chest.

I ran a hand through my hair, the black locks not as shocking as the first night after my fall, and slipped on my jacket. It was worn from me spending the last few nights flying from other ends of the earth and two large slits in the back from where my wings extended from my back. The old building I’d been hiding away in since my fall almost two weeks ago was slowly becoming my home. I didn’t have a bed since angels didn’t need to sleep. We could, if we wanted to, however, I never felt the need to.

There was no food since, like sleep, angels didn’t need to eat. Although I did indulge in some sweets now and then from the bakery across the street, I didn’t feel the need to sit and have a meal.

The one thing, however, I did need was a shower but unfortunately, this abandoned building did not have running water. Which meant late in the evenings, I found myself bathing in the ocean; the salt water helped maintain the life and color of my wings.

Dreaded black wings.

With a long sigh, I stepped out into the night California air to head back to the bookstore that was around the block. Among the intellectual texts I’ve picked up, I’ve also begun reading up on psychology and philosophy just as a way to pass the time.

“Hello, Lethia! I was hoping you’d stop by tonight,” Greg, the older gentleman behind the bookstore counter, smiled at me.

I raised a playful brow. “I told you I would. You promised you’d have something for me.”

Greg slid over a worn book to me. “It took me some time to find it but here it is.”

The corner of my lip curled carefully and flipped through The Death of Socrates, my nostrils flaring at the old book smell.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked Greg.

He waved me off. “Same as always. Just make sure to return them in the same condition. No one ever asks for Plato’s work anymore; it's such a shame. So any chance I can scour for one of them, makes me happy.”

I tapped the counter with a smile. “Thank you, Greg. I’ll make sure to bring you a cannoli when I return the book.”

“I think this deserves a large pan of Baklava,” he said while placing another book on the counter.

The Secrets of Lucifer.

My red eyes darkened as I carefully picked up the book, it weighing heavy in my hand.

“Greg, I will bring you whatever your heart desires for this,” I shifted my eyes to his. “Thank you.”

With both books tucked away in a bag from the shop, I maneuvered my way through crowds of people, scowling at the King above for dropping me into one of the busiest cities. A bright neon sign on a building caught my gaze as I approached the street where my makeshift home was.

Live Music.

Music? Maybe I can find a hint about where Lucifer is.

Before I stepped inside the building, a chilling and painful breeze brushed across the back of my neck causing me to spin on my heels. A loud ringing scratched at my ears but I remained stoned as my eyes hastily looked around the busy street and sidewalk. Something was different in the air; it smelled different.

Titling my head to the side, I gazed down at my feet when something caught my attention.

“What are you doing here?” I muttered.

Dark eyes from the crow stared into my soul as it was perched between my feet.

“I’m not dreaming so why are you here?” I bent to my knees.

I knew it was the same one from my dream walking because of the single white path of feathers that ran down its spine. The crow continued to stare at me, not making a sound, so I tapped its head with a gentle finger.

“If you’re here outside a dream,” I looked at my surroundings once again. “It can only mean one thing and that my friend, is what I was afraid of.”

Rising to my feet, I ushered the bird away with a simple flick. “Go see what you can find for me.”

With a simple caw, the crow fluttered its wings and flew to an unknown destination as I turned on my heels walking into the building. It was loud from the constant pounding from the speakers and the boisterous voices from the packed crowd. Everyone in Los Angeles was here tonight as I pushed my way through to find a single spot open at the bar.

“What can I get you?” A petite blonde behind the bar asked me with a smile, but when she took one gaze into my red eyes, she took a large step back.

It was like this every time someone took their first look at me. Red eyes must not have been common here on earth.

“I’m alright, thank you.” I gave a curt nod while sitting on the stool and began reading The Death of Socrates.

It didn’t last long, however, when a man pushed his way past the bodies on both sides of me so he could lean against the bar, eyeing me down.

“Who the fuck reads at a bar?”

Ignoring him, I simply turned the page, continuing to read.

This prompted him to lay his large hand on the pages of the book, crumpling them.

My head snapped up towards him when his green eyes ravaged my face, licking his lips slowly. “I’m not into broads with short hair or eyes like yours but I’m sure if I fuck you from behind, it won’t be an issue.”

“I’d suggest if you want to keep that hand that you take it off of my book,” I said with an eerily calm voice.

“Or what?” He snorted. “You think you can do anything to me?”

Just before I was about to rise to my feet, a loud voice came through the speaker which prompted the man to push away from my book and disappear into the crowd.

“We have a treat for you guys tonight!” The voice in the microphone made my ears burn as I screwed my eyes shut. “These guys are on break from tour but we managed to talk them into playing a show for you all. Give it up for Bad Omens!”

Bad Omens.

My eyes snapped open just in time for me to look up at the stage before me when that familiar face beamed out into the crowd. His almond eyes shone brightly as he began singing the first song, other familiar faces registering in my mind as they played their instruments.

The man playing what I was sure was the drums: Nick, the one I had pinned to the ground the first time I fell to Earth.

The man with long hair playing a guitar. I didn’t know his name but I remembered his voice didn’t sound like the others.

The man playing an instrument I just learned about, the bass. He was also there that night but I didn’t talk to him.

Then the last man stood front and center as he sang into a microphone, his hair falling around his shoulders in dark waves. Those almond eyes scanned over every face in the crowd until they rested on mine; a breath getting caught in my throat.

Noah.

I was only a few feet away from the stage so when our eyes locked, Noah’s face broke out in a smile as he took a couple steps towards me.

“And when he has you by your neck,” he screamed into the microphone.

I expected him to sound like something else; nothing like this. So eternal. So elegant. So breathtaking.

I stood there frozen as Noah danced across the stage, the crowd jumping along with him. People even enjoyed jumping on top of each other as others moved them along, carrying them throughout.

As Bad Omens played their set, I couldn’t move; transfixed on the sight of them before me. I couldn’t explain this weird feeling that surged through me as Noah’s eyes kept darting over to me, almost making sure I was still there. Then when he waved toward me during their last song, my heart studered in my chest.

What was this feeling? It was unknown and it scared me to absolute death to follow it.

But then something familiar tickled behind my neck, chills covering every inch of my skin and I hastily looked around me to see the crow perched outside the open door of the building. The noise of Bad Omens and the crowd faded to nothing as all I could hear was the constant cawing of the bird, almost beckoning me to follow.

“Lethia, come back to me.”

Whirling behind me, I expected to see Lucifer but ended up scaring the people who stood there when they took in the wild look in my eyes.

“Lethia, you belong to me.”

Lucifer’s voice was loud in my mind now as I whirled around again, this time facing the stage. My eyes caught with Noah’s and he gave me a slight frown before he took the steps down the stage to come towards me.

“You were sworn to me and me alone. No other being on this earth can have you.”

“Stop it,” I muttered, closing my eyes.

“Why haven’t you looked for me? Why haven’t you come to me?”

I clawed at my ears, now yelling. “STOP! LUCIFER STOP!”

“Lethia.”

Noah's soft voice cooed as he reached for my hands, the touch unknown and unfamiliar; as if the wind was grasping at me.

“You’re a disgrace for a soldier of Lucifer’s. How dare you spend time with a mortal?”

My eyes snapped open at this new voice, only to be clouded with a new vision of a face I hadn’t seen in a very long time.

White eyes. Even whiter hair. A large golden hoop hanging from the middle of their nose.

Her name fell from my lips as darkness suddenly took over, my body falling to a heap into Noah’s arms.

LETHIA

I stood alone in an empty field, the same one I dreamed walked in earlier. Angel dust covered the ground and fluttered in the air. Smoke weighed heavily in my nostrils, leaving a bitter aftertaste on my tongue. The crow pecked away at the gaping wound in the stomach of the man who lay at my feet.

His long brown locks were covering his face so bending slowly at the knees, careful not to disturb the crow, and black nails brushed away the hair from the man's face, void almond eyes staring into my soul.

I choked on his name as I stumbled back, falling to my ass.

“No-.”

Suddenly, a fast and hard stampede echoed in my ears and my chest as I scrambled to my knees. Large, black wings exploded from my back with a gust of wind just in time for a massive bull to run towards me. With my left hand outstretched and a mere thought of a dagger, it appeared out of thin air. I threw the dagger at the bull when it was less than five feet away from me, only for it to bounce off its large back.

“Shit,” I cursed, protecting myself with my wings.

The bull’s nostrils flared, a puff of breath blowing through the angel dust, then as I prepared myself for impact, the bull stopped meters in front of my face. Its warm breath now fanning over my face as I gritted my teeth.

Bright white eyes stared back at me as the large golden hoop protruding from its nose rumbled with each deep breath.

“Lethia, my how you’ve changed,” the bull's voice spoke in my mind.

“Maraxa,” I spat with ice-cold venom.

The bull chuffed, dragging its feet against the grass. Its black horns were almost too large for its head but somehow seemed as if it weighed nothing. Its lips curled back in a deep snarl, sharp black teeth covered with blood held my gaze.

“You’ve been hiding your scent well, Lethia.”

“I didn’t know you were looking for me,” I said.

The bull chuffed. “My dear, everyone is looking for you. Unlucky for you, however, Lucifer and I have found you first.”

I raised a brow. “Oh, since when did it become Lucifer and I? You were nothing to him before we fell.”

“Lucifer is my king, I do as he says. I serve him. He sent me to find you, now he never said you had to be alive.”

My eyes never left the bulls. “You can’t kill me in a dream, Maraxa.”

“No, I cannot,” the bull snarled its teeth again. “But I can in that little hole in the wall you’ve called home since you fell. If not there, then that bookstore you love to frequent.”

Ice filled my veins as my wings stood ever still, unmoving in the wind. I thought I’d been smart with hiding my scent from heavens beasts but if Maraxa managed to find me, that only meant others were soon to follow. The only way I could fix this situation was to find somewhere else to hide for a bit before my scent was picked up again.

But I’d been so lucky to find that abandoned building. I couldn’t risk it again.

“I didn’t expect to be on the Kingdom’s most wanted list.”

A loud laughter echoed inside my mind. “The King doesn’t want you. He cast you for a reason, Lethia. It is Lucifer that sent me.”

Lucifer’s face flashed in my vision for a brief second. Instead of feeling the usual love and adoration I’d felt before, now all I felt was dread. Darkness. Sadness. Fear.

I swallowed thickly. “You can tell Lucifer if he wants me, he can come find me himself. Not to send one of his lackeys.”

“Should he look for you in that crumbling building or with that young mortal man with the almond eyes,” the bull didn't flinch.

My eyes snapped to the body to my left, the crow long gone, and all that stared back were those cold, vacant eyes.

“It’s time to come home,” its voice spoke in my mind again just before it sunk its teeth deep into my throat.

I awoke with a loud gasp, breathing uneven and labored as I clawed at the skin of my throat, checking to make sure there were no open wounds. But instead were now scratch marks as my nails dug deep.

“Shit, Lethia,” large hands grasped mine to stop my attack on my throat.

My eyes snapped up at the voice, almond eyes gazing down at me full of worry, only this time they were full of light and life.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Noah’s soft voice cooed; exactly like earlier.

Feeling the comfort radiate off of him made my heart rate immediately calm and I couldn’t stop myself as my fingers slowly grazed over his cheek; the feeling numb.

Noah’s beauty was mesmerizing, the way his hair fell into his face in perfect waves, the way his lips curled up into a faint smile, and the freckles that peppered his nose and cheeks. Then lastly, those eyes and the way they drank me in.

“Are you sure you’re not like me?” I whispered, fingertips tracing over his bottom lip.

NOAH

“How is she?” I asked, all but barreling through the door of the green groom.

Jolly, who was kneeling in front of the body on the couch, nodded. “She’s alright, hasn’t woken up yet.”

Sighing, I set the bag of books down on the table and took Jolly’s spot, him giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Any idea what she was screaming before she passed out?” Nicholas wondered.

“Lucifer,” I muttered, never taking my eyes off the sleeping form of Lethia.

Her lips were parted slightly, a soft snore emanating from them, ebony colored hair fell into her eyes so I gently brushed it away; her face never reacting to my touch.

Almost as if she couldn’t feel it.

“I’m sorry,” Michael shook his head. “Did you say Lucifer? As in The Devil?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose with a sigh. “It’s probably unrelated.”

The sound of a bag rustling sounded in the small green room, Michael holding up the two books that belonged to Lethia.

The Death of Socrates and The Secrets of Lucifer.

“Unrelated my ass,” Michael grumbled while tossing the books onto the table.

“What is your issue with her?” I asked while turning towards him, sitting on the edge of the couch.

He shrugged. “She showed up broken in our driveway and didn’t even say thank you to you for taking her in and helping. Then you keep running into her. LA isn’t a small town, Noah. She’s stalking you.”

“You don’t know that,” I narrowed my eyes toward him.

Folio could immediately pick up on the tension so his calm voice spoke up. “Michael is just worried about you, Noah. That’s all. You guys just moved a few months ago because of previous stalkers.”

I peered down at Lethia as she still slept. “Lethia’s not like the others. Every time we run into each other, she tries to get away from me.”

“Maybe you should let her,” Michael grumbled under his breath.

Choosing to ignore him, I looked up at the door to the room when it opened, Bryan walking in now.

“Any luck?” I questioned.

He hesitated before shaking his head. “The guy at the bookstore only knows her name and the kind of books she’s interested in; nothing else. She always picks up the books, never lets the store send them to her.”

Fuck.

“Lethia mentioned that she was kicked out of her previous home,” I said.

“Where does she stay then?” Jolly asked while crossing his arms.

I shrugged. “No idea. She didn’t tell me.”

When I noticed the name of the bookstore on the bag, I asked Byran if he could go find out any information. It had been bugging me for weeks since I first met Lethia to find out more about her; where she came from, where she lived, and what her obsession with finding Lucifer was.

I nodded at Bryan before resting my eyes on Lethia’s face once more, watching her sleep for a few long moments.

When I saw her out in the crowd tonight, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart skipped a beat or the way my hands shook with nerves. It always was like this when we found each other again, a feeling I couldn’t push deep down and lock away. Lethia was interesting and had her quirks, some of which I was desperate to find out.

I couldn't let her leave here alone tonight. There was this pull deep within my chest that vibrated every time Lethia and I were nearby; just like right now. She needed my help whether or not she would admit it.

“I think she needs a place to stay and try to get back on her feet,” I said while looking back over to Michael and Jolly.

The latter nodded, immediately understanding what I meant. Michael, however, rolled his eyes.

“We don’t have a guest room. It’s already a full house with the three of us and Jesse.”

I shrugged. “I’ll sleep on the couch. She can stay in my room.”

“Noah, you know I’ll agree with you no matter what, but we’ve had issues with stalkers finding out where you live and leaving shit on your car. We can’t have this happen again,” Jolly said.

“I know,” I nodded. “But Lethia’s different. She needs help and I want to. Just until she gets back on her feet.”

“Savior complex back?” Nicholas asked.

“No! It’s just me being a decent human being,” I defended.

Bryan snorted. “Yeah, her being attractive doesn’t have anything to do with this?”

My cheeks burned as I shifted on the couch. “No.”

“Right.”

A loud gasp had me snapping my head towards Lethia as she awoke, immediately clawing at her neck. Her black nails left red marks, deep and angry, and I grasped at her hands.

“Shit, Lethia,” I cursed while grasping her hands.

Her red eyes filled with fear and despair softened as soon as they met mine but her breathing was still erratic.

“Hey, it’s alright,” I cooed.

Lethia’s shaking fingers grazed over my jaw, nails tracing the pout of my bottom lip.

“Are you sure you’re not like me?”

Her voice was hushed so much that I had to lean into her touch, hoping I heard her correctly. I scanned over every soft feature of her face but sucked in breath suddenly.

“Lethia, your nose. It’s bleeding,” I informed.

Her hands went to her face, wiping away the dark blood; only hers wasn’t the typical crimson color. It was black.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she stared at her hand.

Folio handed her a tissue, one she took with a small smile. “Thank you, uh-.”

“Nick but you can call me Folio,” he smiled.

“Right,” Lethia nodded before sitting up, drawing her knees to her chest. “You were the one I attacked that night.”

“Thank you for not doing it again,” he chuckled while packing up his things.

She looked around the room skeptically until her gaze landed on Michael, a low scowl pulling on her lips.

“Oh, it's you.”

He crossed his arms. “Are you stalking Noah?”

“Michael,” I warned with a stern voice.

“Me stalking him?!” Lethia gasped while standing to her feet. “Everywhere I turn, he’s there.”

“Maybe it’s some soul mate shit,” Bryan joked.

I rolled my eyes as I stood to my feet next. “I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Lethia cocked her head to the side as she peered down at the table. “My books.”

“Yeah, I brought them back here with you after you passed out. I wanted to make sure you didn’t lose them,” I said.

“Thank you,” she looked up at me through her lashes.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” I asked the guys.

Nodding, they all gathered their things before Lethia and I were alone. She refused to meet my gaze now, kept it trained hard on the books she had clutched to her chest.

“How are you feeling?” I asked after a long beat of silence.

“Fine.”

I shifted on my feet, trying to gain the courage to bring up the idea of having her stay with me.

“Is there a hotel where I can drop you off?”

Lethia slowly raised her gaze to mine. “Hotel?”

The confusion in her voice made me narrow my eyes slightly.

“Unless you’ve found a house to stay in. I guess, is there anywhere you want me to take you? I can drop you off wherever or you could maybe stay here,” I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.

The corner of her lip curled up in a quick smile.

“Nervous?” She jeered.

I scoffed, trying to play it off, but she saw right through me.

“What I’m trying to say is; is there anything I can do to help you, Lethia? I feel compelled ever since I found you in my driveway,” I admitted while taking a tentative step toward her.

The hesitation was evident in the way her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened.

“Will you let me help you?”

My voice was quiet as my fingers reached for hers and when our skin touched, it felt as if sparks shot off inside of me, igniting all five of my senses. My stomach flipped and my heart jumped into my throat when I linked our fingers together, squeezing her hand.

Lethia never reacted to my touch.

“Wh-why would you want to help me?” She stammered.

“I help people I care about,” I answered as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Her brows furrowed. “But you don’t know me, Noah.”

I swallowed thickly hearing my name fall from her lips, it causing straight heat to shoot straight to my dick.

“Come with me, stay at my place for a few days until you get back on your feet; figure out where you want to go,” I suggested with another squeeze of her hand.

Again, no reaction.

But I could see the internal battle within Lethia as her eyes darted between mine. Finally, her shoulders slumped as if the decision was made with so much thought it made her weak.

“Ok,” Lethia agreed with a curt nod.

I did my best not to show my excitement even though my heart was soaring.

“But I have to take care of some things first,” she said before I could. “Then I’ll be ready.”

“That’s fine. Did you want me to pick you up or something?”

“No, that’s alright. I have my own means to get to your house,” Lethia waved me off.

She went to walk away, ready to leave the room, until I called after her. “Can I have your phone?”

“My what?” Lethia slowly turned on her heels.

Fuck, she looked so cute with the way her nose scrunched up when she was confused; which seemed to happen a lot.

“Your phone,” I couldn’t hold back my smile.

Her eyes widened. “Oh right, that cellular device you humans use to talk to one another. I don't have one.”

“You don’t have a phone?” I asked.

“Why would I? I don’t have anyone to talk to besides you but it seems like we’re always destined to run into each other,” Lethia pointed a finger at me.

Destiny.

I didn’t know why but that word always made my body shiver with something I couldn’t put my finger on. I never believed in soulmates and that my soul was meant for one person only. Well, that was until Lethia seemed to fall from grace into my life a few weeks ago and all I could think about was her. My soul yearned for her in ways that physically made me weak.

When I wasn’t in her presence, I spent my time holed up in the studio writing or bedroom trying to dream of her because that seemed to be the only time I could find with her. Those dreams felt so real each time even the fucking bird that seemed to watch us every time.

Except for the last few days, when I did dream, it wasn’t of Lethia. It was of destruction and death, leaving me in a sweaty panic mess when I awoke.

“Noah?”

Snapping out of my thoughts, I hummed in response to Lethia.

“Give me some time. I’ll be at your house before midnight,” she said, clutching those books close to her chest.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?” I ran a hand through my hair.

Even though her smile was wide, I could see the fear behind her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

Just as she was about to walk out the door, I rambled off my address to her.

“I remember!” Lethia’s sweet voice echoed back.

NOAH

With careful precision, I straightened out the blanket on my bed and made sure the pillows were fluffed just right. On my desk was a stack of fresh, folded towels with some different toiletries Lethia might need. Jolly’s girlfriend left some shampoo and body wash behind the last time she stayed over and after double-checking with her, she gave me the okay to use them.

I didn’t know if she needed an extra set of clothes so on the end of my bed was a pair of my sweats and a shirt, just in case.

Running my hands over my thighs, I went through the mental checklist of everything as what seemed like a large bird flew past my window.

Fresh bed sheets.

Fresh towels.

Comfy clothes.

Toiletries.

“Noah.”

Spinning around, I gave a warm smile to Jesse and the form behind him.

“She’s nervous,” Jesse mouthed before stepping to the side, showcasing Lethia.

She was, in fact, nervous as she shifted on her feet with her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Hi,” I said. “Did you take care of what you needed to?”

“Yes,” she still stood outside my bedroom door, idly in the hallway.

I waved her in. “You can come in.”

Hesitantly, Lethia stepped past the threshold as her eyes took in almost every inch of my room. The lights were off, the only light emanating from the red LED behind my bed, and she quirked a brow at them.

“So,” I ran a hand over my chest. “I left you some things in case you wanted to shower. And some extra clothes.”

“This is where you sleep?” Lethia pointed to my bed.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. You can sleep here, I’ll stay on the couch.” I assured her.

I noticed she was still standing uncomfortably in the middle of my room, clutching a black bag to her chest.

“Is that everything?” I asked.

“Uh, yes. I didn’t have much. Just some clothes and books,” she said.

“Like the ones I found on you earlier?” I asked while sitting on the edge of my bed.

Lethia nodded, hesitantly following my lead. “Yes, I’ve been studying philosophy. It’s quite interesting learning about Socrates and his life.”

She bounced a few times on the bed, a small giggle leaving her lips. “Oh, this is nice.”

“My bed?”

Her body fell in a heap against it, now a soft sigh emanating from her. “This is nothing compared to the clouds but fuck, I can’t believe I’ve been depriving myself of this kind of comfort.”

I chuckled. “Well, make yourself at home. I’ve also been reading up on philosophy. It’s always been a passion of mine. I might have some books lying around on my bookshelf. Feel free to read one that interests you.”

“That is very nice of you, Noah. You do not need to do all of this.”

Lethia gazed up at me, still lying back on my bed.

I patted her knee. “I want to help you out any way I can, Lethia.”

Slowly she sat up and stared for a long moment at my hand on her knee, her brows furrowed with confusion and anger. I went to pull away but her hand stopped me by resting on top of mine. The softness of her skin sent heat throughout my body.

“I can’t feel you,” she muttered under her breath. “Why can’t I feel you?”

“Wh-?”

“Noah!” Jolly knocked on the open door, urgency in his voice. “There’s someone outside for Lethia.

Her eyes snapped up towards Jolly. “Excuse me?”

“She’s on the front step claiming she’s an old friend of yours,” Jolly informed.

I narrowed my eyes. “How does she know Lethia is here?”

A loud cawing caused me to jump towards the open window of my bedroom, a black crow sitting perched on the sill. The long white stripe of feathers down its spine told me it was the same one that had been haunting my dreams.

“Fuck,” Lethia cursed when she eyed the bird.

Before Jolly could answer, she was quick on her feet to push past Jolly, her loud footsteps descending the steps.

LETHIA

Ignoring the wild looks from Noah’s other roommates, I whipped open the front door to be met with bright white eyes. Her usual long white hair was pulled back in a tight bun but her golden nose hoop stood out in stark contrast to the black night sky. It was weird not seeing her in the beast form she was known for; the one I saw earlier in my dream.

Her human form was equally as daunting.

“Maraxa,” I seethed while stepping outside, the door falling shut behind me.

She eyed up the house. “Hm, cozying up with the mortal, I see. What would Lucifer say to this?”

“I gave up caring what he thinks when he was the reason for my fall,” I sneered while crossing my arms; the leather of my jacket creaking.

Maraxa clicked her tongue. “You chose to follow him, Lethia. The love you two shared was palpable. Untouchable. Not even the King could get between you two.”

“If Lucifer loved me then why is he sending you to fetch me like I’m some kind of animal,” I seethed.

“He’s a busy man. I’m sure you’ll understand once you're down there ruling beside him.”

“Why do you want me to go back with you so badly? I know you’ve always wanted my place,” I said.

An all too-knowing look flashed behind her white eyes even though they were filled with no emotion.

“I live to serve my lord, Lucifer,” Maraxa simply said.

“Well, you can tell your Lord that if he wants me beside him, he can come find me himself,” I swiftly spun on my heels, ready to head back inside.

“He’ll search all four corners of the earth for you,” she called after me.

“Let him!” I shot back, not bothering to look.

It was Maraxa’s next words that gave me pause with my hand on the doorknob.

“Your actions will get this mortal and his people killed!”

I remembered the body with the gaping wound on his chest as he lay in the open field of angel dust. Those lifeless eyes that stared up at me during that dream weren’t like the ones that shined as they looked up at me as we sat together on his bed.

“I’d rather cut off my wings than let that happen,” I vowed before slipping back inside the house.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian x fallenangel!oc #mercy noah sebastian

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fantasyescapes17 · 9 months

Text

This is War (the Soldier I)

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon isn't sure exactly why he's fighting this war or if he's even on the right side. He only knows two things: one, his brother Joshua's death was not an accident; and two, the Empire has no shortage of dark secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Genre: dystopian!AU, war!AU

Warnings: Violence, war, general death and devastation, strong language, character deaths, sexual themes (no explicit smut, only implication), dark themes overall, slow burn and plot-heavy. There's nothing you wouldn't find in a typical dystopian YA novel, but its still not for the light-hearted.

Word Count: 10.7k+ [Won't lie, this is 10k words of pure plot and world build-up. The reader and half the important characters haven't even appeared yet, and the romance hasn't started. Buckle up, we're in for a long ride.]

Prologue + Masterlist

Marcet Sine Adversario Virtus.

The ancient Latin phrase was engraved on an imposing metal plaque underneath a large statue of the Empire's emblem.

A delicate golden rose with thorns.

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon sat at his desk directly in front of that rose statue. The statue was a permanent fixture in the cabins of all high-ranking military personnel stationed at Military Base 1. The golden rose and metal plaque served as a reminder to the cabin's visitors that they were not merely addressing Lieutenant Colonel Lee, but an esteemed officer of the Empire.

Military Base 1 was a staggering edifice. The walls and buildings were made of dark bullet-proof glass that soared into the skies, looming far above the crumbling tenements that formed the rest of the city. It was located in the heart of the Empire. An impenetrable fortress behind which the Empire’s loyal military officers strategized ways to protect their dwindling population.

Military Base 1 was the bedrock of the Empire. The harsh thorns which protected the delicate rose within.

“Sir? May I come in?”

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon looked up to find Captain Kwon standing hesitantly in the doorway of the cabin. The young Captain’s eyes lingered uncomfortably on the golden rose, before he briskly saluted his commanding officer.

Jihoon nodded.

“Come in, Captain Kwon. At ease.”

Captain Kwon Soonyoung entered. The cabin's walls were covered with military insignia and medals reflecting Lieutenant Colonel Lee’s numerous achievements. He had obtained many colourful laurels during his short but successful military career. While impressive, the laurels could not fully distract Soonyoung from the gaudy golden rose that glimmered threateningly behind Lee Jihoon’s unsmiling face.

“Here to report, sir.”

Jihoon nodded and stood. He had been sitting at his desk all morning, and his legs were beginning to feel stiff. There was no space to move around with that infernal rose statue taking up half of his cabin.

He leaned against the desk and looked at Captain Kwon.

“I heard there was some commotion in the barracks earlier. Any cause for concern?”

Captain Kwon bit his lip. “Not at all, sir. It was a minor tussle between some of the newer recruits. They, uh, snuck an illegally recorded copy of Vesta’s new film into the barracks. I had to confiscate it from them.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “And where is the film now?”

Captain Kwon blushed. “Sir?”

“I hope you didn’t keep it.”

“I-sir-”

“Dispose of it immediately,” Lieutenant Colonel Lee ordered. His handsome face was unsmiling. “You may cancel training for today and let the men have the evening off. The Brigadier-General is hosting an unveiling party for the new unmanned combat vehicles- all the high-ranked officers will be occupied anyway.”

Captain Kwon smiled brightly. An evening off sounded excellent.

“Ah-yes, sir.”

“I don’t want to see you or the men putting themselves at risk for trifles. If they want to watch Vesta’s new film, tell them to pay money and watch it honestly in the theatre.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The corner of Lieutenant Colonel Lee’s lips curved upward in a hint of a smile.

“What are you thanking me for?”

Captain Kwon cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I’d be lying if I said that Vesta’s films don’t go a long way to boost morale among the men, sir. She’s captured many hearts in the barracks. They would give up their lives for her, just as soon as they’d give up their lives for the Empire. Beautiful women are every man’s weakness.”

“Hopefully not every man,” Lieutenant Colonel Lee muttered.

Captain Kwon hesitated, worried that he had offended his commanding officer. It was difficult to predict how Lieutenant Colonel Lee would respond to any given statement. Jihoon was famously impulsive.

“Of course not, sir. I only meant to say-”

“You’re dismissed, Captain Kwon. Have a nice evening.”

“T-thank you, sir. You too, sir.”

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon leaned against his desk as he watched his subordinate leave. Then he closed his files and straightened his military uniform. He would have to meet the Brigadier-General for another night of drinking and raunchy entertainment, under the facade of unveiling newly designed unmanned combat vehicles.

What a criminal waste of time, Jihoon thought to himself, when there are so many more sinister things taking place in this very Military Base.

As Jihoon walked out of the cabin, he glanced back once more at the enormous thorned rose and the ancient Latin phrase. The symbols of the Empire.

Marcet Sine Adversario Virtus.

Or, in the modern tongue, valour withers without an adversary.

He smiled wryly at the foolishness of the Empire’s ancient motto. Evidently, the people in charge had been in a hurry to justify the war they were starting and had not considered one crucial possibility.

What if the Empire’s biggest adversary was not outside its walls?

What if it was hiding deep within?

—----------------------------------------------

Research Division 3 (or RD-3, as it was often abbreviated) was the military’s golden child.

Every few months, the scientists up at RD-3 designed a glamorous new weapon of warfare, which was unveiled and paraded around at a special display for high-ranking officers. Each new weapon brought the Empire a step closer to winning the war against the Invaders, so celebration was deemed appropriate.

In truth, the displays were simply an excuse for the commanding officers of Military Base 1 to gamble, drink and cavort with women.

Deep down, humans were all the same.

“Lieutenant Colonel Lee! You’re late, as always!” the Brigadier-General called out in his booming voice. The large older man was extremely drunk. His gray beard was stained from spilled wine, and he wrapped an arm around Jihoon in a friendly manner. The Brigadier-General had never had much regard for personal space. “How is it that you’re always the first to arrive at the military briefings, but you can never turn up to a party in time, eh?”

Jihoon forced his lips into a tight smile. “I apologise, sir. I had to finish my reports for the day.”

“Surely an unfiled report has never hurt anybody!”

“I’d rather not find out, sir.”

Lee Jihoon had acquired a reputation as a passionate and loyal young officer of the Empire. The Brigadier-General may have been a drunkard, but he was no idiot. The older man knew that Jihoon was destined for great things. It would not hurt to keep the promising young officer close as he climbed the ranks.

“Excellent work, Lieutenant Colonel Lee. Officers like you keep the Empire safe.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I know you don’t enjoy these unveiling parties but we must let RD-3 show off their little toys, eh? It’s the least we can do. But I know what will cheer you up! We have a special guest today, and she’s an absolute beauty. Come and have a look at her.”

Jihoon accepted the glass of wine offered to him and followed the Brigadier-General into the crowd of people.

The unveiling party was held in the ballroom of Military Base 1’s recreation wing. The enormous hall buzzed with high-ranking military officials, their wives and other entertainers. A group of scantily-clad dancers occupied the stage. A lady in red crooned into the microphone.

“Now, where did that pretty little thing go?” the Brigadier-General wondered.

Jihoon’s hawk eyes took three seconds to scan the room and spot what his superior officer was looking for. Near the back of the ballroom, a group of male officers were crowded around a beautiful young woman. She had a stunning smile, and batted her eyelashes prettily at the eager men surrounding her.

Jihoon sighed. He was unimpressed. “Sir, do you mean-”

“There she is!”

The Brigadier-General made a bee-line for the beautiful actress. Jihoon struggled to keep up. Some of the younger officers scattered at the sight of the Brigadier-General, but Vesta’s pretty eyes sparkled.

She gave the older man a sultry smile.

“Oh, Brigadier-General! I was beginning to wonder if you’d left me alone,” Vesta cooed. It was evident that she was not alone. There were half a dozen men around her, but the actress was an expert at flattering officers of rank.

The Brigadier-General grinned foolishly. “Never, my dear, never. I only stepped away to welcome Lieutenant Colonel Lee to the party. He’s a bit uptight, you see, and he needs some company at these gatherings. Lieutenant Colonel Lee, this is Vesta. Of course you recognize the most beautiful woman in the Empire.”

Jihoon barely glanced at the actress and nodded. “I am familiar with your work.”

Vesta giggled inspidly. “Oh, he’s so stiff!”

“Yes, Jihoon can be rather serious, but he’s a good man. Never mind him, darling. Tell us that lovely story about filming The Last Commander,” the Brigadier- General insisted.

Vesta began retelling an anecdote about how she had been moved to cry real tears in the climactic scene where her character’s husband was revealed to have died on the battlefield. The men listened, riveted.

Jihoon watched the actress disinterestedly for a few moments, before finishing his glass of wine and looking around in hopes of a refill.

He needed air.

There had been a time when Lieutenant Colonel Lee enjoyed gatherings like these. Early in his budding military career, he had felt it was an honour to be invited to a weapons unveiling. Now, Jihoon only wished there existed some alcohol or drug strong enough to make him forget the entirety of these events.

He sauntered outside.

Adjoining the ballroom was an outdoor platform that served as an enormous balcony and helipad. Men and women in white lab coats scurried around the sparkly new unmanned combat vehicle and prepared it for the display. The ‘vehicle’, with the words Aeris VII labelled on the side was actually a drone the size of a small helicopter, made entirely of bulletproof fibreglass.

Jihoon sighed. It looked exactly like all the other aerial combat vehicles the military already possessed.

“What’s so special about this one?” he asked a passing dark-haired scientist in a white coat who didn't appear busy.

The scientist blinked at Jihoon, his expression suddenly changing as he eyed Jihoon's military uniform and the pin on his shoulder signifying his rank.

“Sorry, sir?” the man asked.

“What is so special about this one? Didn’t RD-3 release an unmanned aerial combat vehicle three months ago? What does this one do better than the last?” Jihoon asked.

The scientist looked nervous. Jihoon suddenly realised that even though he was wearing a white coat, there was no patch on the scientist's chest signifying that he was an employee of RD-3. All the other white coats bore patches of either RD-2 or RD-3.

“Uh, I’m not-I’m not part of the design team for this. I was just observing,” explained the scientist carefully.

“What team are you a part of?”

The scientist’s eyes darted back and forth nervously. He seemed uncomfortable under Jihoon’s curious gaze. “I’m under Research Division 1, my apologies. The weapons are handled by RD-3…”

Something struck Jihoon as odd. He had never met anyone from Research Division 1 before. To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t even entirely sure what Research Division 1 did. Was the work highly confidential? It wasn't talked about as much as RD-3’s warfare weapons, or RD-2’s agricultural research. He suddenly remembered hearing about it long ago, from a familiar voice...

“What does Research Division 1-”

“Excuse me, I need to leave.”

The scientist hurried back inside the crowded ballroom and Jihoon stared after him, a sour taste in his mouth. Something was wrong about the way that scientist had been looking at him. Did he know Jihoon? Did he have reason to keep something from him? Jihoon wasn’t sure, but his interest had been piqued.

What did Research Division 1 do?

Where had Jihoon heard about it and why did the dark-haired scientist look familiar?

“Sir, can I help you?” another of the white-coated scientists asked. This woman had a large smile on her face and a patch on her chest that read RD-3. She looked far more welcoming than the previous man. “Are you curious about the new design for the unmanned aerial combat vehicle? We’d love to give you a briefing!”

Jihoon blinked and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“The upgraded vehicle is more aerodynamic. It’s lighter, it can carry heavier missiles and it moves faster. We’ve also fixed some failures in the defensive capability of the bulletproof fibreglass. This one can withstand open fire for longer than the older models…”

Jihoon had lost interest.

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

At exactly 11 pm, the senior military officials gathered in the balcony of the ballroom to watch the new unmanned aerial combat vehicle soar spectacularly into the sky for the first time. Jihoon, uninterested in the theatrics of the display, quietly slipped out of the back of the building and into the dimly lit streets of Military Base 1.

A sleek black car with dark windows was parked at the end of the street. Opening the passenger side door swiftly, Jihoon slid into the back. There was a clicking noise behind him once he closed it.

The car doors had been locked.

“Cigarette?” Vesta offered. Her fingernails were painted a bold red, which contrasted with the plain white of the cigarette wrapper. A half-empty pack was lying on the seat between them. The car reeked of smoke.

This was clearly not her first cigarette of the evening.

Jihoon shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m trying to quit.”

Vesta raised an eyebrow. The pretty, innocent, simpering young lady from the party had disappeared. The actress now slouched carelessly against the leather seats. Her bare feet were crossed and planted on the backrest of the passenger seat in front of her.

She placed the cigarette between her painted lips.

“Mind if I smoke?” she asked, moving to light it before Jihoon could speak.

“Joshua didn’t like you smoking.”

“Joshua’s dead,” Vesta replied harshly as she dropped the lighter and took a long, shaky drag.

“He was worried about your health-”

“There are more disgusting substances entering my body on a daily basis than tobacco, for fuck’s sake. Cut me some slack,” Vesta snapped. She took another long drag before her face relaxed and she chuckled. “Great job pretending not to know me back there. I’m familiar with your work? You could have at least pretended to be a fan.”

Jihoon frowned. It was all he could think to say on such short notice. He hadn’t expected to see Vesta at the unveiling party, and there was no reason for him to be acquainted with a successful actress like her. At least, no reason that could be spoken about openly under the watchful eye of the Empire. They needed to appear to be perfect strangers in public.

Which wasn’t difficult because in truth, they were strangers.

Jihoon didn’t know Vesta's likes and dislikes, or what sort of a person she was. He knew nothing about her past or present life. All Jihoon knew was that they shared one simple thing.

Love, for a man who was now dead.

“How is it going?” Vesta asked. The dark tinted car windows were shut so the smoke she exhaled remained inside the car. It was suffocating. Jihoon glanced longingly at the cigarettes and closed his eyes.He had not had a cigarette since Joshua’s death. It had been four months and he wasn’t about to give in now.

“How is what going?” Jihoon wondered.

Vesta chuckled. “Your attempts to be transferred to the Border Forces. Is anyone taking you seriously or are they telling you to be a good little boy and wait? You can tell me. I have plenty of experience being patronised.”

“It’s not easy.”

“Nothing is easy in this place.”

Jihoon folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “It took two years before Joshua’s application to be transferred to the Border Forces was accepted by high command. I doubt they’ll accept mine anytime soon. I’m not as friendly with the high-ranking officers as Joshua was.”

“You’re not as friendly as Joshua was, period.”

Jihoon gave her a frustrated look. He was tired of her sharp words and unconcerned attitude. Vesta seemed to be treating Joshua’s death with a sense of carelessness that infuriated him. Couldn’t she at least pretend to care?

“Yes, thank you. I’m trying to find out the secret behind the death of a man that meant the world to me. I assumed from the fact that he sent you a similar letter that he meant something to you. Maybe I was wrong.”

Vesta lowered her eyes. “You’re not wrong.”

“So what is your problem?”

“My problem? My problem is that I’m tired of being in love with a man who’s dead, Jihoon. They don’t award you medals for that sort of loyalty. I’m in this shit alone because Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Hong thought it was a good idea to go chasing after something that he should have kept his fucking nose out of,” Vesta snapped.

Her eyes were red as she lifted the cigarette to her lips once more.

“Joshua really wouldn’t want you to keep smoking that-”

“Fuck you,” Vesta replied. She reached down and aggressively stubbed the half-finished cigarette into her ashtray, putting it out. “I don’t even want it anymore. Are you happy that you’ve taken away the one thing that actually makes me happy in this world, Lee Jihoon?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t take anything away. You put it out yourself.”

Vesta stared at him in disbelief. She felt a burning anger flow through her as she met Jihoon’s calm and judgemental eyes. Was this what Joshua had left her? After all his tall promises and romantic words he had gotten himself killed, leaving behind a dark secret and his insufferable younger half-brother to babysit?

“What are we doing, Jihoon?” she demanded.

“We’re trying to find out why Joshua had to die.”

“And then what? Even if Joshua was right, if there is some dark secret in Military Base 1 and he was killed because he knew too much… what next? We don’t have a plan. We don’t have support. How do you intend to exact revenge against whoever is responsible by yourself, Jihoon? You, and whose army?”

Jihoon bristled. “I have a battalion.”

Vesta laughed scornfully. “No. You don’t have a battalion. The Empire has a battalion that they put you in charge of, and they can take it away from you anytime they please.”

“Then we’ll build a new army. We’ll find someone with whom our interests align. There’s a whole world outside of Military Base 1. Rebel organisations, an enormous organised resistance underground. I’ve seen glimpses of it during peacekeeping missions. I know it exists. We could be a part of it,” Jihoon insisted heatedly.

“Why, though?”

“What?”

“Why would you join a resistance? What has the Empire ever done to you that you would rebel against it?” Vesta demanded.

“There’s definitely something happening. Joshua died less than a week after he left for the Border Forces-” Jihoon insisted.

“He died in the course of duty.”

“That’s what they say.”

“You have nothing that proves otherwise, Jihoon. Nothing. None of the high-ranking commanders of the Border Forces will speak to you. You don’t know what Joshua was investigating. All you have is a vaguely worded letter from a man who died after being transferred to the most dangerous division of the military. The Empire even awarded him a posthumous medal for bravery. I’m tired. I don’t know how much longer we should keep doing this.”

Jihoon clenched his fists. “I know this is difficult-”

“It’s impossible. Do you understand how helpless you are in this world? How helpless and alone we both are?”

“I have leads. Just trust me for a little longer. I need to find out why Joshua had to die, I know I can. I can find the people responsible and I need your help.”

Vesta and Jihoon stared at each other for a long moment. It was difficult to read the young woman; she was an actress, after all, and her words and expressions often changed so swiftly and erratically that it was hard to tell just where the actress ended and the real woman began. Jihoon had a feeling that he hadn’t even scratched the surface of whatever Vesta really was. Jihoon didn’t have the time, energy or inclination to dig below her abrasive personality.

But Joshua had trusted her.

So Jihoon had decided that he would trust her too.

“Fine,” Vesta replied, finally. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Do you know anything about Research Division 1? What sort of work do they do?” Jihoon wondered. “I remember Joshua mentioning it once, but I can’t remember what he said.”

“Research Division 1? Does that even exist?”

“If 2 and 3 exist then isn’t it logical to assume that RD-1 exists too? Is there anyone you can ask to learn something about that?” Jihoon asked. There were a lot of questions that would arouse suspicion coming from an officer of the military, but might sound harmless coming from a seemingly air-headed actress.

“I’m meeting Major-General Jung in his apartment tomorrow, I can ask him. Why do you want to know?”

“Just a hunch. See if he’ll say anything about the Border Forces too-”

“I’ve tried that before. The Major-General never talks about the Border Forces, even when he’s drunk. He sobers up as soon as I mention it and it’s unpleasant because things are a lot easier for me when he’s not sober,” Vesta replied firmly.

Jihoon groaned. “He knows something.”

“It’s no use to us if he won’t talk about it. Just because he's reluctant to reveal confidential military information doesn’t mean it’s anything to do with Joshua's death.”

“Can you search his personal office?”

“Do you want me to die?” Vesta snapped. “Because if your aim is to unite me with Joshua in heaven then that would be the perfect way to go about it. The Major-General’s home is filled with security officers at all times. He keeps himself well protected. The rebels would love to take a crack at the commander of the Internal Peacekeeping Forces.”

Jihoon sighed. “Never mind.”

“I’ll get in touch with you if I have anything to tell you, okay?”

“Fine, I get it.”

“Go back before they notice you’re missing from the weapons unveiling,” Vesta suggested. Jihoon nodded. He unlocked the car door and then glanced back at the actress. He cleared his throat.

“Take-uh, take care.”

Vesta smiled emotionlessly. “Sure. As soon as I find something worth taking care of.”

—---------------------------------------------

Once upon a time, the Empire had been a peaceful place.

Jihoon had grown up during those times but he could barely remember them. He had vague memories of his mother’s flower garden and the smell of her home-cooked pies. He had once gone to school. He had family and neighbours and friends. What had happened to them all? Jihoon wasn’t sure. He hadn’t seen any of them since the first Air Strikes.

Air Strike Zero was the starting of the War.

Jihoon remembered huddling in the basement of their small house with his mother and his half-brother Joshua, terrified and not understanding what was happening as the ground shook and explosives fell from the sky.

It was only three days later, when they emerged from their basement, cold and hungry, that they learned the truth.

The War had begun.

Joshua had never been one to sit still. Long before the military had declared mandatory conscription for all able-bodied men, Joshua signed up to fight. We have to protect ourselves, Joshua had said the night before he left. We are at War.

Jihoon had stayed home with his mother until he turned 18. But she had always been of fragile health, and a world at war was no place for her. The older woman's heart gave out and Jihoon had to bury her two weeks before his 18th birthday. Then he enlisted for the army and joined his brother in the ranks. Theirs was not the only family that had been torn apart by the War.

The War either killed you, or made a soldier out of you.

Jihoon chose to be a soldier.

—-------------------------------------------

Captain Kwon’s face was white.

“Sir, we seem to… um, we seem to be missing some items from the weapons storage, sir.”

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon snapped his head up to look at the trembling man in front of him.

His dark eyes narrowed dangerously.

“What?”

“Lieutenant Smith did inventory this morning and we’re missing some firearms from Storage Unit 7B,” Captain Kwon repeated. His heartbeat thudded wildly. Kwon Soonyoung dreaded delivering news to the Lieutenant Colonel. Having to deliver bad news to him was simply dreadful.

"And? Where are they?"

Captain Kwon swallowed. “We’re investigating to find out how we could have lost them. There’s no sign of breaking or entering in the storage unit so it might have been somebody who knew the passcode or had access-”

“Captain Kwon.”

“Y-yes, sir?”

Jihoon stood up and slapped his palms on the desk, hard. His voice was enraged. “Do you think I give a flying fuck who it might have been? I want to know who it was!”

Captain Kwon swallowed. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. We’re working on that right now, sir.”

Jihoon pressed his fingertips to his temples. “How many weapons are we missing? What kind? Give me an estimate.”

“Primarily firearms. Lieutenant Smith has found 10 assault rifles, 12 semi-automatic rifles, 3 grenade launchers and a couple of pistols unaccounted for. We’re also doing an emergency inventory check of all the other Storage Units under our control to make sure this is the only storage unit that was targeted,” Captain Kwon rambled on. Perhaps if he kept talking rapidly, then Jihoon wouldn’t have time to yell at him. “There aren’t many soldiers with access to Storage Unit 7B in particular so it must have been someone who was on security duty at some point-”

Jihoon lifted a hand in the air and cut him off. “How many is a couple of pistols?”

Captain Kwon swallowed. “Thirty-five, sir.”

“Thirty-five?” Jihoon demanded. That amounted to a total of 60 deadly firearms. Sixty firearms was no small theft. It was enough to keep a small army going. A small army which was evidently not affiliated to the Empire, or they could have obtained the weapons without committing military treason.

Captain Kwon looked devastated. “Yes, sir.”

“You have two hours to find out who did this before I come down into the barracks and investigate the matter myself. This is likely the work of some rebel organization. That means we have traitors of the Empire here. Traitors. In my battalion. Do you understand the seriousness of this situation, Captain Kwon?”

“Yes sir, I do, sir.”

“Good.”

Captain Kwon shifted on his feet and then cleared his throat. If he was about to be put to death following a court martial then he really wanted to know sooner rather than later.

“Sir, are you… are you going to be reporting this matter to high command?”

Jihoon folded his arms across his chest. He had no intention of putting his own neck on the line this early. The Empire would not take high-grade weapons being stolen directly from Military Base 1 lightly.

There would be hell to pay if the culprit was not found.

“Let’s try to find who did this first. In the absence of anyone else to punish, Captain Kwon, high command may just decide that you and I will be held responsible. I would rather it didn’t come to that.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Find me the traitor. Now. Dismissed.”

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

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon carried his brother’s final letter tucked in the pocket of his military uniform at all times. The folded paper was worn out from having been read so often over the last four months, and every single word was precious to him.

Jihoon,

I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye before I left. My request to transfer to the Border Forces was accepted on extremely short notice. I leave tonight.

There is something I’ve been investigating. I’ve had my suspicions about the Empire for a long time, but I think I’ve finally found some evidence. I need to go to the Border to confirm my suspicions. When I return I’ll explain everything. If I’m right, then everything we know about our lives could be a lie.

I’m scared.

I hope I’m wrong. I really hope I’m wrong.

If I don’t return, that means the Major-General knows what I’ve found. Don’t trust anyone in the military, Jihoon. Especially not the high command. They don’t care about our lives. All they care about is themselves. They’ve done horrible things in the name of research and war and they’ll stop at nothing to protect their positions.

Tell Vesta I’m sorry. I wanted to help her but I think I ended up making her life worse. You would probably laugh, Jihoon. I wish I could see the incredulous look on your face when I tell you I fell in love with her. I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce her to you. Maybe, when I return, you can meet her and you’ll see how wonderful she is.

I want to make you both proud. I hope I can.

I love you. Stay safe

-Joshua.

Sometimes Jihoon wondered if his brother had intended to leave him in a state of complete agony. Could a more vague and incomprehensible letter exist? Why couldn’t Joshua have stopped to explain exactly what he was investigating? Life would have been easier even if Joshua had just gone to the Border without leaving a letter at all.

At least then, Jihoon could have believed that his brother had died bravely in the line of duty, as the Empire claimed.

Peace of mind can be more valuable than the truth.

Jihoon possessed neither.

“Sir? Your written communications have just come in,” a young officer on administrative duty entered the cabin and saluted Lieutenant Colonel Lee before placing a pile of envelopes on the desk. Jihoon quickly tucked the letter into his inner coat pocket and sat up.

“Thank you, Private. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jihoon looked at the envelopes. All of them were stamped and sealed with the Empire’s emblem; the golden rose with thorns. Most were non-urgent. Field reports, requests for leave and other routine mundane tasks relevant to the maintenance of his forces. There were a handful of invitations to social events being held by high-ranking officers.

Then Jihoon saw it.

The only envelope where the rose was hand-drawn instead of stamped with the official Empire stamp. The difference was slight and difficult to notice for an untrained eye, but Jihoon and Vesta had been communicating in this manner for long enough that he instantly knew the envelope was from her.

He tore it open.

Asked about RD-1. It's old- it existed even before the Air Strikes, but was shut down shortly after the War began for ethical reasons. Something about human experimentation. Major-General wouldn't elaborate. RD-1 hasn’t been operational for about a decade, so I don’t think it has anything to do with Joshua.

He also wouldn’t talk about the Border Forces. He never does.

I heard that the Major General is looking for some new personal security. He’s not allowed to take on-duty soldiers for his personal use, so he hires whoever he can find men from the disciplinary barracks- ones undergoing punishment for frivolous things. Do you have any men we can trust? If you could get them into the disciplinary barracks by tomorrow, then it’s likely they’ll be chosen. Make sure whoever you pick looks a little naive. The man doesn’t like his guards to be smarter than him.

Lots of concerns about rebel uprisings on the coast. Civilians aren’t complying with the food rationing laws and are hoarding their own farming and fishing produce.

I’ll be at the Brigadier-General’s wedding anniversary party this weekend. See you there.

Jihoon tore up the letter and reached into his drawer for a lighter. He no longer smoked, but the lighter was still useful for other things. Jihoon watched the sheet of paper curl into ashes on his desk while he tried to process the information.

How was it possible that RD-1 didn’t exist anymore? If it had been shut down and ceased operations years ago, who was the man in the white coat from the weapons unveiling party? He had clearly stated that she was with RD-1. Jihoon pressed his fingers against his temples and frowned. It seemed like the Empire had more secrets than anyone could have anticipated. Everywhere Jihoon looked, he found inconsistencies and strange rumours.

But never any solid evidence. Why?

The door to Jihoon’s cabin opened with a bang.

“Sir? Permission to enter, sir?” Captain Kwon demanded, lifting his arm in a salute. His eyes were shining and there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Yes, Captain Kwon?”

“We’ve identified the man who stole the weapons, sir. The problem is… he’s already absconded.”

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

The men stood stiffly to attention.

“Our culprit is Private Lee Chan of the 7th Squad, sir,” Captain Kwon explained, while Jihoon paced up and down the cramped barracks. The soldiers froze in terror at the sight of the Lieutenant Colonel in their humble sleeping quarters.

One bed was conspicuously messy and unmade.

“How did he escape?” Jihoon demanded.

“He loaded all the firearms into a military transport vehicle and drove it out of Military Base 1 at 6 am this morning. The security personnel suspected nothing because Private Chan often drove military vehicles in his line of duty, sir. We’ve told the gate security forces to keep an eye out if he comes back and hand him over to military police immediately-”

“He’s not coming back.”

Captain Kwon bit his lip. “Sir?”

Jihoon glared at his subordinate officer, making no effort to hide his irritation. “He’s not coming back, Captain Kwon. A Private made off with military-grade firearms that he plans to deliver straight to the rebels in an act of treason and you think he’s going to come back? Why? To face a court-martial and public execution? Don’t be foolish. He'll have gone underground by now.”

Captain Kwon swallowed. “Sorry, sir.”

"And I suppose none of you noticed the blood leaking out of those blankets?"

There was a dark red stain seeping out of the crumpled blankets on Private Lee Chan's bed. Jihoon stepped forward and tugged at it. A bundle of rags absolutely drenched in blood fell onto the floor along with a solid object. It was a small, metal device the size of Jihoon's fingernail.

"He cut his identification tag out of his arm and left it right here," Jihoon hissed. "This took you all morning?"

Captain Kwon only trembled.

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon took a deep breath and then frowned at the other soldiers standing in the barracks. They were all members of the 7th Squad. Men who had been forced to enlist because of the Empire’s ongoing war. Men who would much rather be anywhere but here. They were young and wet behind the ears, Jihoon observed.

But Private Chan could never have managed something so brave and reckless alone.

There were more.

Jihoon intended to find them.

“How many of you were close to Private Chan?” Jihoon demanded. He looked around at all of the men, but their heads were lowered. They were avoiding eye contact with him. Was it fear? Or defiance? Lieutenant Colonel Lee tried to scan their faces but it was hard to tell the difference.

“Are you going to answer me or do you all want to be handed over to the military police?”

One of the men spoke up. “He-he was friendly with all of us, sir.”

Jihoon narrowed his eyes at the soldier who had spoken. He was of average height but his rounded face and soft features revealed that he was just a boy.

“Your name?”

The boy saluted. “Private Boo Seungkwan, sir.”

“Private Boo. I saw your name on the duty roster. Weren’t you in charge of locking up Storage Unit 7B after firing practice yesterday evening? That means you were the last person to see the stolen firearms before Private Chan got his hands on them.”

Private Boo Seungkwan hesitated. He seemed to regret having spoken. “Y-yes sir. But Private Chan was on security duty at the Storage Units from 11pm to 5 am, sir. I clocked out at 10:59 pm after Private Chan came to relieve me from my post. I haven’t seen him since then, sir.”

“And what did you do afterwards, Private Boo?”

Seungkwan’s steady gaze faltered. “Sir?”

“What did you do after Private Chan relieved you from duty at the Storage Units? Did you come straight back to the barracks for a good night’s rest?” Jihoon asked calmly. He watched as Seungkwan nervously exchanged glances with some of the other soldiers. They seemed to be frowning at him.

“Uh, no sir.”

“You didn’t return to the barracks? What did you do, then?”

“I-I went to watch a film, sir. I returned to the barracks quite late,” Seungkwan admitted.

“And what film was this?”

Boo Seungkwan’s ears turned pink. “Vesta’s new film, sir. The Last Commander. I-I’m a fan of hers.”

“So if I understand the situation,” Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon said slowly and dangerously, “you were the last person to see the firearms intact other than the culprit himself. You were also the only soldier who didn’t return to the barracks in time last night because you went to watch a film.”

Seungkwan swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Are you aware that enlisted soldiers aren’t allowed to leave official duty for personal reasons or entertainment, unless granted permission by a Commissioned Officer? Did you have permission to go watch this film last night, Private Boo?”

“No, sir.”

Jihoon had heard enough. He turned to Captain Kwon, who was watching the exchange nervously.

“Well then. We’re done here. The abscondee, Private Chan, is a traitor to the Empire and we have sufficient evidence in the form of his bloody identification tag that somehow nobody here noticed. Captain Kwon, please report the criminal to the military police immediately and have him declared an enemy of the state. They will send out an investigation team to locate him as well as the firearms, so the matter is out of our hands now.”

Captain Kwon nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“As for Private Boo…” Jihoon glanced at the younger soldier. Seungkwan was standing with his fists clenched and sweat beaded on his forehead despite his attempts to look relaxed. “Private Boo will face six months locked up in the disciplinary barracks for taking leave to watch a film without permission.”

Boo Seungkwan blinked. “Sir?”

“Captain Kwon, come see me in my cabin in an hour. The rest of you are dismissed. Go back to training.”

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

Captain Kwon had always been punctual, so Jihoon was pleased to hear the young Captain's voice outside his cabin in exactly an hour.

“Sir. Captain Kwon here on your command, sir.”

Lieutenant Colonel Lee looked up calmly. His dark eyes focused on the young man who was saluting him from the doorway of his cabin. For a brief moment, Jihoon doubted himself. One wrong move could jeopardise everything. If Kwon Soonyoung was loyal to the Empire, then Jihoon’s entire career could be at risk.

But Lee Jihoon had reached his position in life and rank in the military by trusting his instincts.

He would simply have to trust them again.

“Enter, Captain Kwon.”

Soonyoung entered the cabin. Despite being a frequent visitor, he was once again momentarily flustered by the enormous statue of the Empire’s emblem. The golden rose was conspicuous. It took Soonyoung a few moments to refocus his soft eyes on the Lieutenant Colonel sitting at the desk in front of it.

“Sir.”

“Before we get down to business, Captain Kwon, do you have anything to say to me about the events of this morning?" Jihoon asked.

Soonyoung paused. The question was loaded. The Lieutenant Colonel did not make small talk; there was almost certainly a right and a wrong answer to this question.

"I should have supervised the Storage Units more closely, sir."

Jihoon did not blink. "Hmm. Anything else?"

“I request you to reconsider the severity of Private Boo's punishment,” Captain Kwon added. He tried to speak confidently, but Jihoon's sharp and piercing gaze was terrifying. “Sir, I think it’s rather excessive. None of the other privates have been sentenced to six months imprisonment in the disciplinary barracks just for watching a film while they were off-duty.”

“Close the door, Captain.”

Soonyoung's lower lip trembled. “Sir?”

“Close the door and take a seat.”

Kwon Soonyoung obeyed. His hands were trembling so he clasped them together tightly in his lap. Jihoon’s dark gaze and unsmiling face did not help his racing heartbeat.

“Do you really think,” Jihoon began slowly and carefully, “that I sentenced Private Boo because he went to watch a film?”

Soonyoung was silent.

“I sentenced him because we both know that he didn’t watch a film last night. He helped Private Chan load sixty firearms from Storage Unit 7B into a military transport vehicle and then aided his escape from Military Base 1 while you watched. You're many things, Captain Kwon, but you're not incompetent. I don't believe that a lowly Private managed to hoodwink you. The only explanation is that they did this with your help."

Soonyoung's face was turning red. "Sir, with all due respect-"

Jihoon cut him off sharply. "You and Private Boo are not the only members from a rebel organisation in my battalion. I know there are others. I’ve been waiting for one of you fools to out yourselves for a while now.”

Captain Kwon's fists clenched. To Jihoon’s satisfaction, the young man did not look scared anymore. A look of steely determination had crossed his childlike face. Kwon Soonyoung was not as innocent as he tried to appear.

“With all due respect, Lieutenant Colonel Lee, you can’t prove any part of what you just said,” Soonyoung said stiffly.

“I have no interest in proving it. Even the suspicion of being affiliated to a rebel organisation is enough to have you court-martialed and executed. But I don’t want to do that, Captain Kwon. You’re not much use to me dead. I have something far more interesting for you to do.”

Soonyoung was silent.

“I see you’re afraid to open your mouth in case you incriminate yourself. That’s all right. I’m not going to interrogate you about your organization. Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck what the rebels get up to. What I need is someone to spy on Major General Jung. He’s the commander of the Internal Peacekeeping Forces and the second most powerful man in the Empire. I’m sure your people have their eyes on him. Tell me. How much would information about the Major General’s private dealings and conversations be worth to your organisation?”

Soonyoung was silent but his eyes glimmered.

“I’m going to help you and Private Boo get into Major General Jung’s house,” Jihoon continued. “I can also help you communicate whatever information you manage to find to your rebel organization. I only need one thing. Everything you find will be reported to me first.”

Kwon Soonyoung’s hands were shaking. His soft eyes wavered in indecision before he suddenly looked boldly up at the Lieutenant Colonel.

“What’s in it for you?” he demanded.

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Why do you want us to do this? Clearly there’s some information that you want from Major General Jung. I need to know what your motivation is.”

“That is irrelevant.”

“I think it’s very relevant. You’re asking me to spy on the commanding officer of the Internal Peacekeeping Forces. If Private Boo and I get caught, then we die. Don’t we deserve to know why we’re putting ourselves at such a huge risk for you? What if you use this against me and my loved ones?”

Jihoon had assumed that Captain Kwon would be naive and easy to manipulate. Evidently that was not the case. The young officer was also brave. Jihoon leaned back in his chair, impressed. Soonyoung could handle entering the lion’s den. Jihoon had stumbled upon the right person for the task.

“Captain Kwon. I’m sure you’re familiar with the Empire’s emblem. The golden rose with thorns. What do you think it means?”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“What do you think the emblem with a golden rose and thorns symbolises?”

“Uh…” Soonyoung looked at the enormous statue of the emblem behind the Lieutenant Colonel’s head. It was beautiful but there was no mistaking the thorns that lay underneath it. Soonyoung had never stopped to think about its meaning. “Um. I suppose it means that you should stop and think before you pluck the rose because the thorns will prick you?” he guessed doubtfully.

Jihoon nodded. “Interesting.”

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know either,” Jihoon admitted. He sighed. “Let me put it this way, Captain Kwon. I’ve lost someone close to me. I need to know whether the Empire’s thorns merely failed to protect him, or whether they pricked him themselves.”

Soonyoung hesitated. He could see the pain behind Lieutenant Colonel Lee’s dark eyes. He had never imagined that such a high-ranking officer whom everyone feared could also be a victim of the Empire.

Then again, perhaps everyone was a victim of the Empire in some way.

Soonyoung took a deep breath. “I’ve lost people to the Empire too. My family back home struggled because of the new laws and all our land was taken away from us-”

Jihoon cut him off quickly. “I don’t care.”

Soonyoung blinked. “Oh.”

“I have no intention of exchanging childhood stories with you, Captain Kwon. I don’t want to be friends. I want information. Let’s talk about how you’re going to get it for me.”

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

A vast majority of the Empire's power resided in the hands of two men.

The military took pride in claiming that the Empire wasn’t an autocratic state like the destructive military dictatorships of the past. Instead, it had quickly created the concept of a high command. A pair of men who controlled the military, and as a result, the rest of the Empire.

Major-General Jung, commander of the Internal Peacekeeping Forces.

And Major-General Yang, commander of the Border Forces.

Together, these two men commanded the two primary functional divisions of the army. First, the Internal Peacekeeping Forces were tasked with ensuring the common folk obeyed the Empire's laws, while suppressing occasional violent rebel uprisings and keeping peace within the walls of the Empire.

Second, the Border Forces defended the Borders where the constant looming threat from the Invaders needed to be taken care of. The Borders was where the newly designed weapons and the bravest of soldiers were sent. Fighting at the Borders was no joke.

Every few weeks, fresh bodies were brought back from the Borders in caskets.

“I don’t understand your obsession with the Border Forces, Jihoon,” the Brigadier-General complained as he swallowed a large glass of wine. It was his anniversary party, and he hated talking about official business during celebrations. He wished Jihoon would relax and leave him alone. “Can’t we discuss this on Monday? It’s so dull to be talking about applications and transfers when one should be in a festive mood!”

Jihoon bowed his head. “I apologize, sir-”

“Have a glass of wine, eh? Here!”

“Yes-thank you, sir. I don’t mean to bother you. It’s just... I’ve heard rumours that the Borders are in need of more officers since the threat from the Invaders is steadily rising. The most recent exchange of hostilities at the Border four months ago left our forces crippled-”

The Brigadier-General's grey beard twitched in sympathy. “Ah, yes. Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Hong was one of the brave victims of that devastating attack. Your half-brother, correct? You’ve mentioned him before. My condolences.”

Jihoon clutched his wine. “Thank you, sir.”

“But you should know better than anyone how dangerous it is!” the Brigadier-General cried. “The Borders are treacherous and few return alive. The death toll increases with each passing month. There’s a reason the Empire limits the number of commanding officers we send there. One efficient attack by the Invaders is enough to wipe out entire battalions, and we can’t afford to lose too many at once.”

“I understand, sir, but-”

“We need brave officers like you here and alive, Jihoon. Internal peace and harmony is crucial for the efficiency of this war. The Internal Peacekeeping Forces are doing important work. Wars cannot be won unless the nation is unified from within.”

Jihoon pressed harder. “I’d rather fight at the Borders, sir. I don’t believe the Internal Peacekeeping Forces need me. Rebel uprisings will stop naturally once we can terminate the threat of the Invaders, and return the Empire to its former prosperity and glory.”

The Brigadier-General’s mouth twisted downward. “Do you believe that’s possible?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” the older man admitted grimly. He finished his entire glass of wine in one gulp and then patted Jihoon on the back in a friendly manner. His eyes were slightly unfocused due to the alcohol. “You have a lot of potential, Lieutenant Colonel. You’re a smart young man and I don’t want you to die yet. I’ll submit your application to go to the Borders, but you know the final authority on these matters is Major General Yang. All I can do is send your application onward.”

Jihoon nodded gratefully. At least it was a step in the right direction.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, are you done hounding me at my wedding anniversary party? Go get another drink, and find a pretty young lady to dance with! I can introduce you to a few if you’d like…”

Jihoon politely declined. He found a quiet corner to enjoy his glass of wine while the Brigadier-General left to greet his more important guests. The private anniversary party was smaller and humbler than some of the official military galas, but there were still a significant number of high-ranking officers and research officials present. Jihoon wished he was sociable enough to interact with them the way Joshua used to. But that had never been his style. He didn’t have many friends.

Jihoon wondered whether he should stay at the party until Vesta arrived, or leave since he had sufficiently interacted with the host. Jihoon didn’t have anything to say to Vesta. To be frank, he didn’t even enjoy her company. But there was a small and inexplicable comfort in talking to someone who missed Joshua just as much as he did, even if she had her own abrasive ways of handling her grief.

Perhaps it was too risky to keep meeting her.

Jihoon squeezed past the throng of guests and wondered how many more infernal parties and events like this he would have to attend before he found out the truth behind Joshua’s death. What dark secret was concealed in the midst of these studded military coats and sparkling wine glasses? What was so consequential that Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Hong had requested a transfer to the most dangerous, deadly division of the military in order to investigate it?

Jihoon had no idea how to find these answers.

He didn't even know where to look anymore.

Was this the end?

Would he never find out what had taken Joshua from him? Even if Jihoon’s application to transfer to the Border Forces was miraculously accepted, what would he do once he went there? He didn’t know what Joshua had been looking for, and it seemed that the man had confided his secrets in no one.

Yet, it seemed so surreal.

What had Joshua been trying to investigate by himself? Was it even possible that he had single-handedly unearthed some enormous conspiracy? With no outside help? Joshua had been secretive on occasion, yes, but Jihoon still couldn’t believe it. Perhaps Joshua had not told his lover because she had enough worries of her own. And perhaps he had even kept it a secret from his little brother to avoid putting him at risk. But surely he had confided in someone?

Someone?

Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon saw the flash of a white coat.

It was him again; the same young scientist from the weapons unveiling party. His dark eyes had been watching Jihoon but he averted them the moment he realized he had been caught. Jihoon’s stomach clenched.

He had seen this scientist before. He had seen him multiple times, as a matter of fact, at almost every official celebration that took place in Military Base 1.

Why was this scientist always lingering around him?

The man turned to leave the room and Jihoon made an impulsive decision to follow him. He exited the Brigadier-General’s front hall and followed the man out of the penthouse apartment, and down multiple flights of stairs. The man kept glancing back at Jihoon but he wasn’t trying to get away.

In fact, he seemed to be leading Jihoon somewhere.

Jihoon followed the scientist onto the deserted street. He kept walking until he reached a small, cramped alleyway between two apartment buildings. Jihoon expected him to stop, but he kept going, kept walking and Jihoon began to doubt himself.

What was he doing? Why was he following a strange scientist into places that he didn’t know? There was a service pistol tucked into Jihoon's belt but he doubted that would be of much use if this man was leading him into some kind of a trap.

Finally, the man stopped and turned to face him.

“Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon,” the scientist greeted calmly. His hands were clenched by his sides, and Jihoon could see his fists trembling.

“Who are you?” Jihoon demanded.

“My name is Junhui,” the man explained softly. “I used to be a researcher at Research Division 1. But that’s not important to you. The truth is…. I knew Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Hong. I was the last person to see him alive before he left for the Border.”

Jihoon felt numb.

—------------------------------------------

There was very little in the world that surprised Vesta.

It was late when she arrived at the Brigadier-General’s party, and even later by the time the infuriating old man would allow her to leave. She spent the entire evening smiling until her cheeks hurt and enduring the hungry gazes and wandering hands of the Brigadier-General’s friends.

When she returned to her car and saw Lee Jihoon sitting in the passenger seat, she did not blink an eye.

“I didn’t see you at the party,” she drawled, while lighting her cigarette. Jihoon looked pale. He had always been a handsome young man, but the haunted look Jihoon gave Vesta sent a chill down her spine for completely different reasons.

"Joshua was intercepting confidential documents from Major General Jung's personal office," Jihoon mumbled quietly.

Vesta blinked. It took her a few moments to process exactly what Jihoon was saying. Joshua? Stealing documents from the Major General? But Joshua had always seemed to like the Major General Jung. He had always been eager to gain the commander's admiration and even shared drinks with the older man multiple times after duty. Joshua had always been the one in charge of hauling the Major General's enormous drunken ass back home after parties…

Oh.

So it had all been an act.

Vesta had occasionally wondered why Joshua was so eager to please the Major General, and why he hung around his superior officer despite the older man having the personality of a stinky wet rag…

Maybe she'd assumed that he did it in order to see her.

"What-what documents?" she asked hesitantly. "Did you find any of them? Where were they?"

Jihoon shook his head. "No. Someone told me."

"Someone?"

"This… this man came up to me. Junhui. A research scientist. He said he knew Joshua and that he was the last person to see him alive before he left for the Border," Jihoon explained.

"I've never heard of this name before. Junhui?" she demanded.

Jihoon bit his lip. "Yeah."

"Do you know who he is?"

"I'd never heard his name before today either," Jihoon admitted. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap. "But I had my suspicions, since he's been following me and trying to approach me for a while. He says that Joshua used to have drinks with the Major General and intercept his communications while the man was lying drunk in his office. He says… he says that Joshua made copies and hid some of the communications."

Vesta shook her head. "Hold on. Just stop for a moment. Who is this Junhui and how does he know so much about what Joshua was doing? Has Joshua ever mentioned him to you?"

Jihoon swallowed. "No."

"Joshua told me about you. And you said that he often talked about me. That's how you and I can trust each other. But he never told either of us about this Junhui. How can you trust him? Who the hell is he even?" Vesta demanded.

"He says Joshua saved his life."

Vesta blinked. "What?"

"When high command shut down Research Division 1 a decade ago because their human experimentation failed, they ordered for the subjects and the researchers to be killed. Junhui says Joshua was the military official on duty and saved Junhui's life by helping him escape and hide. He's been lurking around Military Base 1 in hiding and helping Joshua investigate the Empire ever since."

"Why would Joshua do that?"

Jihoon shrugged. "Because he's a good person?'

"It doesn't sound like something that can be explained away that simply. Are you telling me that this man is a fugitive?" Vesta demanded. Her eyes had gone wide in disbelief. "Are you telling me that the entire time we knew Joshua, he was harbouring a fugitive of the Empire? This man can't be sane. Why would Joshua risk everything to help some researcher hide?"

Jihoon's lower lip trembled. "But he knows so much about him."

"Like what?"

"Like everything," Jihoon replied. He took a deep and shaky breath. "Look. I'm confused too. I don't know what Joshua has been up to all these years-"

"Yeah, no shit-"

"But if there's even a hint of truth in what Junhui says, then we might find something. Listen. He says that Joshua used to steal confidential documents from Major General Jung's office. That means Joshua either took those documents or made copies."

"So? You didn't find anything in Joshua's belongings. And you searched his cabin yourself before they cleaned it out."

"Of course. Joshua would never risk getting caught with confidential documents in his possession. There's strict security outside the Major General's office. They check your uniform when you enter and again when you leave the office of any officer in high command. I know, because I went to Major General Jung's office many times to receive medals. They even check the linings of your coat."

"So how did Joshua get the documents out?"

"That's what I've been wondering. What if he didn't? What if he hid them right there in the Major General's office?"

Vesta stared at him.

"That's…"

"Something Joshua would do, right?"

"Yes," Vesta admitted hesitantly. Joshua had been clever at sneaking around and evading suspicion. Despite his seemingly trustworthy appearance, Joshua had been extremely cunning. The number of times he had managed to sneak Vesta into his personal quarters at the dead of night was evidence of his clever thinking. He would constantly come up with new and innovative ways to get her in without anybody noticing.

"We need to find those documents."

"How?"

"How else?" Jihoon asked grimly. There was no choice. "Through the only person on our side who has access to Major General Jung's office. Captain Kwon Soonyoung."

Vesta raised an eyebrow. "The Major-General's new personal security? I've seen him; I wondered if you planted him there. Is he loyal to you?"

Jihoon hesitated. "Not exactly. But he's not loyal to the Empire either. He's an undercover rebel."

Vesta leaned back and laughed. "Well, fuck. You do seem to find these strange people, Jihoon. Do you trust this Captain?"

"I have to. Will you help him?"

Vesta reached into her purse for some cigarettes and fumbled with the lighter before taking a deep breath and nodding.

"You're going to get me killed someday, Lee Jihoon."

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

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon paced the long corridor anxiously.

The Brigadier-General had sent for Jihoon to report to his cabin at once. Considering that the old man preferred to discuss even critically important military matters over alcohol and music, being summoned to the Brigadier-General's office in the middle of the day was highly unusual.

Jihoon wished he could be sure that it was good news.

The door to the office opened.

"Jihoon! Come in!"

Jihoon entered and promptly saluted the Brigadier-General. The senior officer had a much more luxurious and spacious cabin than Jihoon, but even the Brigadier-General could not be rid of the permanent fixture that was the Empire's conspicuous golden rose statue.

It glimmered brightly behind the Brigadier-General's wrinkled face.

"Sir, you called for me."

"I have some news for you, Lieutenant Colonel. It's about your transfer application to the Border Forces," the Brigadier-General began. He pulled out a pair of spindly glasses and squinted at the document on his desk.

Jihoon's heart leapt.

"Yes, sir?"

"It's been denied."

The disappointment on Jihoon's face was unconcealable. The Brigadier-General sighed and lowered his glasses with a frown.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant Colonel. You should have been a prime candidate. Perhaps that incident with the stolen firearms influenced Major General Yang's decision. You can always re-apply in six months."

A sense of despair was beginning to take over Jihoon, and he didn’t know how to stop it from consuming him.

Was this it? Was this the end of the road?

He had been hoping that he would receive some information from Captain Kwon or Vesta, but they had nothing to report from their espionage of Major General Jung except news about the increasing rebel activity near the coasts. It appeared that either Major-General Jung had nothing to hide, or he was simply too good at hiding it.

And now the Border Forces were shut to him for another six months.

The Brigadier-General seemed sympathetic.

"Never mind the Border Forces, Jihoon. I have a much more important task that I need you to do for me. If you can pull it off, it will certainly erase any black mark on your record from that unfortunate firearms robbery."

Jihoon nodded, although he had lost interest.

"Of course, Brigadier-General."

"What do you know about the rebel uprisings near the coast?"

Jihoon knew plenty; but none of it was from official sources so he had to feign innocence. The coastal regions were the only fertile agricultural lands in the Empire. Combined with the abundance of seafood, they were a primary geographical source of food for the rest of the Empire. If the worst of the rebel uprisings infiltrated the coast, the Empire could be faced with a devastating famine that would impact even Military Base 1.

"Not much, sir."

"The coastal folk have been uncooperative for a while, but the situation is worsening. These are not soldiers; they're farmers and fishermen and they can be controlled. But we have reason to believe they might join forces with some of the more dangerous rebels."

Jihoon nodded. "I suppose the rebels could use the farmers and fishermen as an opportunity to incite some violence."

"I need you to go on a peacekeeping mission to the coastal region."

Jihoon visibly flinched. The last thing he wanted to do was go thousands of miles away from the heart of the military that his half-brother had died investigating, to shush some poor farmers.

"Brigadier-General, I am sure you don't need someone like me to control some farmers and fishermen. I'd really like to re-apply to the Border Forces-"

"You need to wait six months to reapply."

"But surely-"

The Brigadier-General had already turned away from him.

"You leave tomorrow."

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

#seventeen scenarios #woozi scenarios #seventeen angst #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #woozi angst #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #dystopian!au

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

Text

Sam had convinced him to go to this charity gala the Wayne family was hosting so she wouldn't have to be alone with her parents. It really wasn't that bad when you had someone to talk to who wasn't a rich snob, so Sam was always ecstatic whenever he agreed to come. Danny himself was feeling a bit overprotective of Sam who was just excited to see the city. Gotham was great for its gothic ascetic but Danny feared any number of crooks and creeps might try to take advantage of a rich tourist.

It was once they were at the gala that the trouble began. First of all, Dannys red string of fate pulled taught, signaling that his soulmate was near. Danny had been startled by it and turned invisible on reflex. Thankfully no one noticed. But just the though of his soulmate potentially being a rich snob ruined his mood. Soulmates didn't always get along after all and Danny didn't want to get stuck in a toxic relationship due to social pressures, so he decided just to stay invisible.

Meanwhile, whichever batfamily member you decide to ship Danny with noticed their string pull taught and informed the group chat so that they could begin looking for thier other half. They unfortunately, never found them.

Danny and Sam start quietly freaking out when they realize Dannys string is leading directly to the finger of one of the Wayne family. The princes and princesses of Gotham, who, to Dannys horror, was rumored to fund Batman and his endeavors. This was bad. Very bad. The bat family were known as the world's greatest detectives and could find anything/anyone.

Danny and his friends had done everything in thier power to keep what was happening in Amity Park hidden from the world. The Ghost Zone was a wonderful place of magic, mystery and extreem danger-even to its own inhabitants. It was a place where you could not only travel between dimensions and realities, but could access the entirety of the omniverse. There were so many artifacts of great might and secrets never ment for mortals to bare. If Batman did find any useful info it would likely be stored on a "Secure" computer where the information would be vulnerable to anyone who managed to steal- or ancients forbid- sell it.

More than anything the GZ was a place with a lot of power. Power that would be abused.

The entirety of the Ghost Zone would be in danger if Batmans clan came sniffing around to uncover things they shouldn't and Danny doubts they would listen to reason. They've never really seemed the type to turn away an intriguing case. So Danny stayed hidden.

The batclan wouldn't let it stay that way and a few weeks later, Danny saw his first bat in Amity Park.

Edit: I forgot to mention this but they checked the guest list and compared it to other galas and stuff to see which people didn't give the string that reaction and narrowed down the suspects. They then send the bat in question to get near to them until they eventually narrow it down to Sam and her "guest".

Only problem is that the only person in Sams life that matched the description from the cameras and witnesses was a boy who went missing when he was 15 and never found.

Also, what tf is happening in Amity Park?!?!

#prompts #fanfiction prompts #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #batfam

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 8 days

Note

Can I ask what do you mean that Félix is “far from the only victim of the issue?” What other characters have this issue from Miraculous?

When I said, "Felix is far from the only victim of this issue," I was referring to the ongoing problem of inconsistent characterization. Generally speaking, characters should act according to their own internal logic. When they do, they come across as reasonably consistent, predictable, and - most importantly - realistic.

I'll talk in depth about the concept of consistent character logic and how you get around it in a moment. Before I do, I want to give a few examples from the show to demonstrate what I mean by inconsistent characterization as we must understand what the show is doing wrong before we can discuss how to do it right. This issue is so widespread that I could go character by character and give examples, but for the sake of brevity, I'll just pick the first three that come to mind.

Alya

In Chameleon, we get this exchange:

Alya: A good reporter always verifies her sources. Can you prove [that Lila] doesn't actually know Ladybug? Marinette: Well I–uh… I… I… Okay! You want proof she's lying? Hey Lila! You forgot your napkin!

In this scene, Alya comes across as massively hypocritical because we all know that Alya isn't holding Lila to the same standard that Marinette is being held to. Alya will happily believe whatever BS Lila spouts and even post it on the Ladyblog for all the world to see.

We also know that this habit of not verifying sources isn't a new thing for Alya. We saw it bite her in the ass a couple times back in season one with things like the Lady WiFi incident where Alya thought that Chloe was Ladybug based on little more than circumstantial evidence.

But at the same time, we get things like this scene from the start of Feast:

Alya: Now you know back in the day sculptures were painted, right? Most of the paint vanished over time, but tiny microscopic pigments still remain. Thanks to this special app, witness how it originally looked. But here's the big thing. All these works of art have something in common. It's the same symbol! Look, everywhere. (Marinette gasps as she imagines Master Fu's mission) It's like some kind of secret society emblem. As if a kind of Order of the Guardians has been watching over the superheroes since the beginning of time!

This scene showed off some serious research skills. Alya uncovered secrets that the guardians had kept hidden for centuries or possibly even millennia! And this isn't the only time where we see Alya pull off this kind of quality research. If you pay attention, you'll realize that she clearly wasn't kidding when she says that she checks her sources!

In other words, depending on the episode, Alya is either a brilliant reporter who does her research or a tabloid journalist who takes anything she's given at face value as long as it makes for a popular blog post. There is no consistency nor is there a gradual change over time. The quality of Alya's journalism jumps back and forth from episode to episode depending on what the writers need it to be for the plot to work.

Nino

Nino is the holder of the miraculous of Protection and we were told many times that a miraculous must suit the person who bears it, so Nino supposedly embodies the spirit of Protection. And yet, in the season five episode Illusion, we see him:

Out his secret identity for no reason

Out his girlfriend's secret identity for no reason and without her permission!

Purposefully antagonize his best friend's father even though he knows that Gabriel and Adrien have a very tense relationship

Willingly get someone akumatized without taking any precautions to minimize the damage that akuma will do

Does that sound like a protector to you? Does it even sound like someone who should be made a part-time hero? I'd say no. Especially since Nino doesn't apologize for any of this. He happily justifies his own behavior and is even treated as being in the right. The only sudo-apology we get is this:

Nino: Mr. Agreste, I owe you an apology. All your troubles today, the pizza, the pasta, the chocolate, all that was... that was a plan to help Ladybug and Cat Noir. And it worked, dude! I mean, sir... Ladybug, Cat Noir, look! (shows a picture of Gabriel’s akumatization) Magic lightning! That's how Monarch gives his akumatized villains the power of the Miraculous!

Which is followed by everyone praising Nino for uncovering a thing that we now know goes nowhere. The heroes never try to track down the "lightning" Nino caught on film, so he risked Adrien's relationship and freedom for nothing. If that's protection, then count me out!

Adrien

At the start of season two, we get Glacitor, which gives us this exchange:

Cat Noir: There's a boy? Who is...? Ladybug: It's— I can't tell you who it is. We can't know anything about each other. Our identities must remain a secret. We're both superheroes, Cat Noir. We don't have a choice. (There's a silence. They look at each other sadly. Cat Noir walks closer and smiles before he hands her a rose, which Ladybug takes) Cat Noir: I get it, Ladybug. Your friendship means everything to me. (kisses her cheek) You can keep the rose. It goes with your costume.

And then, in this same episode, when Adrien is alone with Plagg, he says:

Adrien: Perhaps Ladybug will love me someday. I mean, like, I love her. I have to believe. In the meantime, her friendship is the best gift of all.

Driving home the fact that he truly meant what he said to Ladybug. He is happy to just be her friend, though he does hope that, one day, their relationship changes.

Then, towards the end of season two, we get Frozer which has Chat Noir do this:

Cat Noir: For you, M'lady. (kneels and showed the rose on his hand.) Ladybug: Seriously, Cat Noir? You're about to transform back! (points his ring) Cat Noir: So what? Ladybug: Well, if you transform back, then I'll know who you are and then... Cat Noir: And then we won't keep secrets from each other anymore. (transforms back to Adrien and Ladybug is shocked) Adrien: We'll be united, more powerful and free, we'll defeat Hawk Moth, then we can both run away to an island! (Ladybug smiles a little bit) Far away from everything. We will live off nothing but fruits, and we will have a little pet hamster and we will name it- Ladybug: Cat Noir! (It was revealed it was a daydream from Cat Noir) I can't accept this rose from you. I told you already. I'm in love with someone else. Cat Noir: I know, M'lady. But if he weren't here, would things be different between us?

And this:

Ladyice: Cat Noir. We need to set up a trap for whoever turned the city into a giant ice rink. (throws yo-yo) Icecat: (bitterly) My feline instincts prefer to track and observe before I attack. You go your way, I'll go mine. Ladyice: Please don't tell me you're mad at me about the rose. Icecat: There may be a certain chill now between us. Ladyice: I get it, but we should really focus on saving Paris right now. Icecat: We don't always have to do everything together, after all. It's not like we're a couple. (skates away) Ladyice: Cat Noir, don't get all pouty on me!

And this:

Adrien: I hope this helps you get more students to sign up. (walks away with Kagami) Kagami: You still keep doing what other people want you to do. Adrien: No, I just want him to be happy. And I'm not changing my target. Even if it means failing over and over again, because one day, I will succeed and hit it.

Oh yeah, he's totally respecting Ladybug's "no" and prioritizing their friendship over his feelings! This is top tier dreamy romantic lead writing!

On Characterization

By now, you hopefully see I what I meant when I said that Felix is far from the only character to have magical personality changes for the sake of The Plot. No one is safe from being rewritten. Sometimes characters change permanently without a real explanation. Sometimes characters ping pong back and forth. Other times they're so weird and wacky that you truly have no idea who this character is supposed to be. This is a problem because well written characters tend to be predictable. That doesn't mean that you'll always know exactly what a character will do. It just meant that a character's actions should make sense to the audience.

But, if you're a writer, how do you do that?

Allow me to explain!

If you want to write a solid, believable character, you have to keep them logically consistent. This does not mean that their actions need to be logical. All it means is that any character-based logic you establish has to be respected and followed.

For example, if you establish that Marinette can't talk to Adrien without messing up her words, then you cannot have an episode where she's suddenly able to talk to him because you are breaking one of Marinette's character rules.

If you have established this rule for Marinette, but your story needs to let Marinette talk to Adrien, then you need to do one of two things: create a situation that logically breaks her rules OR give her a character arc. That's just how characterization works! You establish a character, let the audience get to know them, then find ways to tell the story you want to tell while honoring the character you introduced the audience to. If your characters' are ping ponging all over the place and acting completely different from episode to episode, then you are failing at characterization.

Before we end, let's take a moment to rewind and explain what I meant when I talked about the two ways to get around a character's rules. We'll start with the easier way: breaking rules by putting the character in a situation that forces them to do something they'd usually never do.

Extenuating Circumstances

This is the first of the two ways to get around character rules and Miraculous occasionally does it well. For example, in Risk, they needed to get Marinette and Adrien to talk about things that Marinette and Adrien would never discuss, so the writers had an akuma make them talk. That's good writing! Special circumstances can - and often should - override character rules. No one will struggle to believe it if a pacifist becomes violent when their loved ones are threatened. In fact, in that scenario, keeping the pacifist a pacifist may make the character feel unbelievable depending on why they're a pacifist and the nature of the threat.

It's important to note that these rule breaking moments tend to be short lived like how Marinette and Adrien both reverted as soon as Risk was no longer affecting them.

Above, we discussed how out of character Nino was in Illusion, but his behavior in that episode isn't all that different from his behavior in Rocketear and I have no issues with Nino's writing in Rocketear. The reason for the discrepancy is that, in Rocketear, Nino thought that Alya was cheating on him. That's the kind of extenuating circumstance that would make someone act a little weird. In other words, Illusion's problem is not Nino's behavior, it's the context of his behavior. The writers simply didn't put in the work to make Illusion feel believable.

Character Arcs

Now that we've talked about temporary changes, let's switch gears and talk about the way you make more permanent changes to a character's rules. Namely, character arcs.

People are probably more familiar with this tool, but I'll still quickly define it: a character arc is when a character undergoes a change in personality, behavior, and/or beliefs based on an experience or series of experiences.

Miraculous is terrible at character arcs, so I don't have any examples to pull from in canon. Instead, let's take the Adrien example from above and rewrite it to be a character arc where he goes from pouting about being turned down to accepting that he really is happy to just be Ladybug's friend.

It is incredibly common for teenagers to struggle with the concept of rejection. Heck, even full grown adults struggle with it! You meet someone and you're drawn to them and you start building up this wonderful relationship in your head but, before that dream even gets a chance to become reality, your love interest blows it up with a, "No." Instead of accepting that, "No," you become obsessed with changing their mind. If only they'd see you in the right light, you know that they'd love you like you love them!

Obviously that's not how things work and this point of view is quite problematic, but this is a kids show and Adrien is only 14. It's reasonable for him to need to learn this lesson. I'd even go so far as to argue that we need characters to learn this lesson in kids shows. And if you don't think it should be learned by characters who eventually do end up with their love, that's fine, I don't disagree. However, I do think the lesson still works so long as we get a good gap between the character learning it and the character getting together with their love interest.

On to the rewrite!

In this new version of season two, Chat Noir doesn't take the Glaciator rejection well. Instead of smiling and accepting it, he asks if he has any chance and he's devastated when he's told, "No." We'll even add a scene at the end of the episode where Adrien tells Plagg, "I'm going to change Ladybug's mind!" In other words, Glaciator now plays like Frozer and it also leads into a season-wide conflict where Chat Noir is good to his word.

Throughout the season, he keeps pushing things, trying to prove that he's the better pick and that mystery boy is a waste of Ladybug's time. This all culminates in the new version of Frozer, wherein Adrien decides to go out with Kagami to make Ladybug jealous. But remember, that episode only happens because Kagami is trying to convince Adrien to give up on his crush and crush on her instead. Aka, the exact same thing that Adrien has been doing all season.

As you may have already guessed, in the new Frozer, we see Kagami do the same kinds of things that Chat Noir has been doing to Ladybug because Kagami is equally desperate to prove that she and Adrien are meant to be. He just needs to wake up and get with the program!

The more Kagami pushes, the more Adrien realizes that this date was a terrible mistake. He also realizes, "Oh shit, is this how I've been acting? Gosh, I'm an awful friend! I'm going to ruin my partnership if I keep this up."

By the end of the episode, Chat Noir apologies to Ladybug and Kagami can either learn the same lesson or promise to not give up, leading Adrien to sigh and promise to suffer through her advances for at least a little while longer because he wants to try and get her to learn the same lesson he did.

From that point on, Chat Noir is totally respectful of Ladybug, but still very much in love with her. She can even say that she hates hurting him, to which he'll reply, "You didn't do a thing to hurt me, my Lady. You've been perfectly clear about what you want. I'm going to do my best to respect that because your friendship means everything to me. I don't want my feelings to ruin what we have."

I'd also have this conversation establish that the flirty banter is okay by both of them and have them both promise to say something if their boundaries change, but I'm not writing all that out. What really matters is that Chat Noir has now learned a valuable lesson and we can have all of the Ladynoir hi-jinks we love so much without any of that nasty, pushy undercurrent we get in canon. Instead, we now get some lovely, heartfelt pinning that's going to play so good when the reveal happens!

If you want to really have some run, you can even let Ladybug develop feelings for Chat Noir to really highlight how sexy respect is. It's up to your preferences, but I do enjoy a good "two crushes" crisis and Marinette's sexual/romantic alignment seems to allow for multiple crushes based on the Luka and Catwalker stuff.

Conclusion

You can make almost any character do almost anything if you play your cards right, but Miraculous isn't playing the game. The writers seem to do whatever they want and it's sad because there's a good show to be had here. Good characters, too. It's why I continue to defend them in spite of the mess that is canon. Every single character in this show could have been great if the show had put in the effort to make them great.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #adrien deserves better

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rosie-b · 4 months

Text

Centuries Overdue

Summary:

Long ago, an evil Darkness spread across Europe, claiming the lives of many in the magic community. Trained by Plagg himself, Adrien made it his mission to stop the Darkness before it snuffed out the lives of more Mages and Talents, as it did to his own parents. Though he seemed to succeed in his mission, the pages of his old journals tell a different tale.

In the modern world, Marinette is a fashion student, working at a small library for the summer to earn extra credit. She’s never believed in magic before, but when she finds the old Agreste journals in her library, her beliefs about reality begin to crumble. Determined to find the truth, both about magic and the unsolved death of one Adrien Agreste, Marinette begins on a journey that will eventually lead her deep into the city’s catacombs, where an ancient force sleeps, but is ready to awaken once more…

Read chapter 1 on AO3 or below! I hope you enjoy 💕

Excerpt from the eighth journal of Adrien Agreste, written at Sassolungo Castle in Italy, on the first of November 1809.

There are times when I think myself unfit to be called a Traveler, much less an Adventurer, for my Heart longs for the feeling of Home above all these foreign cliffs and castles. Still, at times like this I am reminded of how necessary my Travels are and why I must continue them.

At first, my only desire was to honor my Parents. That was the Feeling, the unabating Urge, which drove me to the treacherous Forests of the Harz Mountains, to the Supljara Cave, and to even the farthest reaches of Europe, but with Time’s passing a new Desire grows within me.

There is something wild growing in the Darkness; when I close my Eyes I can feel it growing. It is a most disturbing Feeling, and one I am not alone in noticing. The Mages of Tikki and Plagg have felt it also, and have noted its Growth. It cares not for the Moon, nor the Stars, nor the Sun, but its Presence continues to spread unchecked at all times.

I fear if we do not find its cause ere the spring festivals’ start, it will prove too powerful to be Destroyed, and so I have made it my business to uncover its Secrets. This Darkening is surely a sign of a stronger, more sinister Magic, and I fear that there are things darker and still more guileful to come of it. I must make all Haste to prevent its growth, which is why I must journey to the edges of Light, to the place where my parents died…

_-*-_ _-*-_ _-*-_ _-*-_

It was Marinette’s first day at work.

The small library was much bigger than Marinette had expected, or at least it felt that way. In half an hour’s worth of shelf reading, she’d only gotten through four shelves, not nearly as many as she’d hoped to check. She had decided to blame it on the call numbers; the way they were printed on the books varied depending on when they had been added to the collection, and she was finding that made older ones difficult to read. Those numbers, written in fading black ink directly on the books’ covers, were the hardest to make out, and she’d wasted several minutes trying to tell 8s and 6s apart.

But it was almost time for her lunch break, so Marinette jotted down her progress on the chart the head librarian had given her and returned to the circulation desk, where an old man was insisting that the new computers did not work, or if they did, they were far too confusing for an eighty-year-old to understand.

“I’m just trying to log into my email account, but I can’t even find the right button to turn the thing on,” the man said, tapping his cane on the floor emphatically.

“I can help with that!” Marinette folded her paper and set it down. “If you’ll just lead me to the computer you were using, I can get you signed in, no problem!”

The other library intern, whose lunch break came just before Marinette’s, smiled gratefully at her. She grinned back. Some people didn’t like this part of the job, but to Marinette it didn’t seem so bad. Then again, it was only her first day as an intern.

“Oh, thank you!” The man seemed very relieved, and he slowly began making his way over to the computers. He lowered himself into the third chair from the left with a heavy sigh. “I’ve already tried jiggling the mouse, but I don’t know if it’s even connected, because nothing’s happening.”

Marinette frowned and glanced at the monitor. The power button was hidden at the back of the screen, so she carefully turned the monitor around to check. As she thought, the button wasn’t glowing. She pressed it once and waited for it to turn green, and within seconds, the monitor was displaying its login screen.

“There you go, sir. Log in as a guest and let me know if you have problems getting to your email. Okay?”

The man smiled and clapped his hands together, knocking over his wooden cane. “Thank yo— oh! Thank you again, miss,” he laughed as Marinette picked up the cane and handed it to him. “Don’t know why they’re hiding the important buttons behind the screen these days. Made me look like a fool, didn’t it?”

Marinette smiled. “It just takes a while to get used to. And don’t worry, I was happy to help!”

The old man waved as Marinette turned to walk back to the desk.

That wasn’t so bad, she thought cheerfully. At least I’m doing some things right at this job.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was not a librarian, nor did she have any intention of becoming one. But it was summer break, and she wanted to get a head start on internship credits for university. All the fashion houses in Paris had already chosen interns; luckily, it didn’t matter where the internship was as long as it provided some of the same skills working at a fashion house would, which this position did. It wasn’t even hard to get, since most people looking to work at a library applied to the François-Mitterrand Library, ignoring this smaller location, which was a mere municipal library not part of the BnF. The position paid decently well, and it guaranteed Marinette the extra credit she needed to give her a boost at university.

I already have a robust resume anyway, she had told herself when she’d been debating whether to apply to the little Bourgeois Library or not. Being Jagged Stone’s favorite costume and album designer has to count for something! And my designs have been featured in Style Queen a few times, too. Next year, I can have my pick of Paris’ fashion houses to work at.

It was time for Marinette’s lunch break, so she clocked out and grabbed the lunch her mother had packed. Normally, she would have gone somewhere else to make the most of her break, but she wanted to explore the library a bit more. There were lots of rooms on both levels of the renovated building, and she wanted to be able to guide patrons to the right section of books when they asked without getting lost.

With this in mind, Marinette finished her reheated croque monsieur and ventured off to explore. There were still forty minutes left of her break according to the new watch on her wrist — plenty of time to acquaint herself with the building.

The children’s area was downstairs, a colorful section full of picture books, games, movies, audiobooks, and bright-colored bean bag chairs. It wasn’t as full as it usually was, the children’s librarian said, but on weekends especially there were dozens of children and parents at a time filling the area.

On the far side of the basement was the young adult area. It hadn’t been renovated along with the rest of the building, and the gray shelves of books, old video games, DVDs, and three comic books looked unappealing to Marinette, and apparently to the rest of the young adult population, as there was only one person in the area. They sat in the lone, wooden chair by the poster advertising the youth group’s fall meeting schedule, looking at something on their laptop.

Marinette squinted as she made out the lone tuft of white hair on top of the visitor’s head. At least they’re young at heart, she thought with a shrug.

Back upstairs, there were three big rooms and one smaller one, with a central area where the laptop and computer desks sat, as well as the circulation desk, several sofas, and wood tables with cushioned chairs. Then, the three larger connected rooms — the North room held the nonfiction area, the West held fiction, and the East room had everything from large print to a kindle station to an open dictionary.

The last room Marinette visited was the smallest. It had a red carpet, large south-facing windows, a wooden globe atop a low shelf of foreign-language books, and a small, one-sided shelf of old, leather books facing the sun. On the other side of the shelf, there was a lone, wooden table in front of one red velvet chair.

Marinette walked around the room, gave the globe a couple spins, and stood by the central shelf to examine the books. A golden metal sign on it read that these were part of a special collection, and were not able to be checked out, although anyone could read them while within the library. They’d been donated by the Bourgeois family at the start of the library’s usage, and had remained there ever since.

But there weren’t any more librarians in the Bourgeois family; they had moved on to politics halfway through the last century and hadn’t looked back. Marinette supposed they were happy being richer, but a single library donation in the 1800s wasn’t enough charity work to persuade her to vote for Mayor Bourgeois in the upcoming election.

Marinette looked closer at the collection of books. Was it just her, or did it look like the old books were rusting? Small piles of red dust sat at the edges of the shelves, and the spines of many of the books were cracked, allowing her to see the threads that were binding them together.

She gingerly picked a book off the shelf, noting the cloud of dust it created; the way the spine threatened to crack in two at her touch; the brittle, yellow pages; and, with a look of disgust, the way it seemed to instantly suck all the moisture from her skin.

She immediately put the book back. Her hands were now covered in red dust from the cover.

Marinette rubbed her fingertips together, trying to get the dust off, but it seemed to have sunk deep into the lines of her skin.

Wonderful.

Marinette headed to the bathroom and washed her hands (and then washed them again when the dust didn’t come off the first time). Her break was almost over, anyway, so she might as well head back to the desk. Before she did, she stopped in the South room one more time, looking for the name of the book’s publisher so she could know who was responsible for her mishap.

The Journals of Adrien Agreste, vol. 3, read the half-attached spine of the book, which apparently had no publisher and was more of a diary than anything else.

Well, who would put that in a library? Marinette wondered. No wonder you can’t check it out. The first thing anyone would do with it after they left the building would be toss it in the trash just to spare future patrons.

And she walked back to the desk, taking long, confident strides and silently cursing this Adrien person for writing in books that would fall apart so easily. She wouldn’t be returning to that room anytime soon.

_-*-_ _-*-_ _-*-_ _-*-_

Excerpt from the eighth journal of Adrien Agreste, written in Munich, Bavaria, on the fourth of November 1809.

Being an Orphan is less tragic than one might expect. It puts me in good company, and it guarantees a kind of Sympathy from most people I meet. Emphasizing the sorrowful Look of a young Orphan helped me secure many a meal when I was younger and traveling, often Alone, back to Plagg’s cave after my parents’ death. Nevertheless, when I am by myself, I am struck by the Guilt and Sorrow I felt on the day I lost them… Some wounds take too long to heal.

Since to the best of my Memory I have never written about the Disaster before in these journals, I suppose I should put it here. It wouldn’t do to let it be forgotten, after all, and it may aid me in recalling the Dangers of Blå Jungfrun, the destination of this journey.

My mother’s Spirit was more adventurous than my father’s; the voyage to Blå Jungfrun was her Idea. There used to be a circle of Mages on the island, but an inhospitable Darkness drove them out. My mother wanted to see if, since much Time had passed since then, the island was safe once more, and she planned to do this using her Talent. My father was against the idea at first, arguing that neither of them had the ability to use Magic, only to detect and defend it through their Talents.

At that time, it was unknown to me that I had a Mage’s Gift, not the simpler Talent my parents had. They were afraid of the dangers Mages face, and tried to spare me from Harm by holding the knowledge of my magic back from me. Untrained as I was, I could not even sense Magic, and I was completely dependent on my parents to sniff out Curses and other Evils for me. My father mentioned this, too, but my mother was unswayed.

To her sensible mind, the Talents of my parents were more than enough to protect themselves and me from lurking Dangers. And no-one had visited Blå Jungfrun in nearly a century. Whatever Darkness once lived there, it had nothing to sustain it. Surely, it must be dead, she told my father.

Wanting to please his wife, and trusting in her own trust, he agreed to take me to Blå Jungfrun, island of the Blue Maiden.

The journey through Sweden was pleasant from what I remember. There are two groups of Mages in the South of that country, Ravlunda’s group being the largest. I plan to stop there on my own journey, which I pray will not be as ill-fated as my parents’ was.

Departing for Blå Jungfrun from Oskarshamn, my parents took a small boat, protected by Charms given to them by the Mages of Ravlunda. I went with them, and my clothes were similarly protected by Charms for extra safety, while my parents did not wear charms on theirs. There was one Mage from Oskarshamn who came with us, and she had the foresight to wear already-charmed clothing. That is how she and I escaped from the Dark Island.

The Island itself is nothing special. There are trees and rocks covering a large hill, which is otherwise barren. The locals have long feared that place, and call it the Mountain of Witches. They are not far off, except in time, since the Mages have long abandoned it.

The Ocean’s strange waves had floated the Boat a little way from the Shore; since there was no dock to tie our boat to, this had been expected. My parents and the Mage waded out to the boat where I still was, having spent less than five minutes on Shore, and that is when the Darkness struck.

It had sensed our Presence, and gathered into a Storm, fully visible even to me, and too powerful to be banished by the Mage. It was all she could do to keep the boat, and me in it, afloat as it threatened to capsize and was pulled still further out. By now my parents had to swim, their feet unable to touch ground under the water, and the Mage as well. I was frightened and did not know what to do, though I strove with all my might to row the boat back to my parents, and all the while the Darkness was growing until at last a Tendril reached out from the storm and dragged my mother fully under the waves.

My father dove in after her, thinking to save her, as the Mage climbed into the boat and cast a protective Spell just strong enough to create a sphere of safety in the Storm. We searched and searched as the Storm raged on, hoping to find my parents resurfaced, or to see their forms in the water and haul them into the Boat. But they were forever lost to the Darkness. We never found them, and for our own safety, the Mage determined that we must head away from the Island, which was the only place the Darkness seemed to draw power from.

I went back to Plagg’s cave, which is hidden in the Harz mountains, and stayed with the Mages there until I was old enough to take up my parents’ mission and travel again, recording the Darkness, keeping peace between Mages as their countries went to war again and again, and eventually learning of the Magic that was hidden inside me.

I have been lucky enough to take lessons from Plagg himself during his visits to the Cave, however impossible to understand and often of little help to a peaceful traveler like myself said Lessons are.

But now, if the Darkness is spreading, then I will need all the spells he taught me and more.

As I set out to the Blue Maiden, I plan for my journey to be a slow one. This is only in part due to the Ocean not being safe during winter. I will stay in Bavaria for a while and take lessons from the Mages of Mullo. Then I will move on to Leipzig and Berlin, should the fighting (for there is always War now) allow it, and finally to Świnoujście and from there to Sweden. Along the way, I hope to gather a small group of stout-hearted Mages to aid me in my Fight.

I must take the Time to carefully prepare to face whatever twisted Mage is at the heart of this Darkness, for I grow ever surer that there is one. Darkness does not move on its own, but it relies on Servants to work for it.

Let those Servants beware, for if I find them, I will not show them Mercy.

Author’s note: This is the first chapter of my fic for the @mlbigbang!! There are eight chapters total and I’ll be updating weekly, on Thursdays. I’d like to thank all the mods for helping this event go smoothly, my three beta readers (Angel, Helios, and my sister @poorschilpad) for keeping me on track, and my two amazing artists, @acise and @nireu-art for their crazy cool work. You guys are the best! 💕

#ml fanfic #rosie-b writing #miraculous ladybug #ml au #centuries overdue #i do recommend viewing it on ao3 because i used a super cool work skin so it looks superior to this version

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