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#and it is very evident to me that I am not the slightest bit prepared for it
mushroomgothic · 7 months
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i have an absolutely disgusting crunch week and a half ahead of me rn and this morning I am frozen in dread unable to do anything about it
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etoilefilante-cm · 1 year
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― the moment i found my way back home
I was just but another little soul dwelling in the same bustle of a small town, protected by a lullaby in the comfort of the ordinary – living youth with relish and blooming into adolescence – not reckoning the days nor the nights passing by. Little did I know, the regularity of a stagnant everyday life has done me good, alluring me into the depths of adventures and fascinating me enough to explore what these eyes could not lay on over the horizon.
The year was 2015. Dancing to K-Pop songs, my hobby, even though I lack the technicalities or the groove, messes up with the tempo, could not hit the beat, and was nowhere near excelling at it, was one of the things that gave me overall satisfaction. However, my mind could not fathom nor remember the slightest tiny bit of how, despite a certain video streaming platform having its feed and search history filled with Korean acts, there was a sudden recommendation in the interface, out of nowhere, of one lone Japanese act — Bullet Train or Chotokkyuu, with 'Ebiday Ebinai' Music Video.
I neither had a background nor history with Japanese acts prior to the boys surfacing on my account, but if it just so happened that I recklessly skipped that one, I cannot imagine how monotonous I would be today. From putting on loop one music video, their discography eventually turned into a lifestyle — one that I looked forward to, the best part of the day. Their songs and choreographies have a distinct vibe only they own, and no lies, I was more attracted by their unique charms in 'スターダスト LOVE TRAIN' and goofiness in 'バッタマン,' which not a lot of talents risk doing.
Albeit I became a huge fan, I hate to admit it, but my mind slowly forgot them, disappearing from my every day like they were never once a precious routine. My last with them was 'My Buddy.' And it was when K-Pop pulled me closer and hugged me with groups like Infinite, B.A.P, UNIQ, Romeo, Victon, NCT, Golden Child, TRCNG, Produce 101 Season 2 Trainees, Sonamoo, Lovelyz, WJSN, and CLC. There, I experienced both the ecstasy of happiness and the atrocities of the pain of the inevitable in the industry with the eyes of a fan.
Come the pandemic, I was not ready for the twist, interest-wise, it had prepared ready for me. I indulged myself with NCT content, so as not to beat myself with the stress and anxiety the situation has brought — that's one, but the waves of the ocean were yet to unveil the wonders I was yet to encounter. Everything was going as usual on the video streaming platform, again, but not until an advertisement video came up and played.
It was a cheery and melodic song with the use of muted color palette, which was, in my opinion, a bit in contrast to the atmosphere of the song but, ironically, complemented either way. The visuals had people playing and scenes amusing, hence I murmured within myself how good of a concept it was. Although I seemed to enjoy it, a piece of evidence was the fact that I did not skip the ad, part of me was troubled as the stars seemed familiar. Very familiar. Then, in a snap, I heard 'Ebiday Ebinai' in the lyrics — it was Bullet Train! Again! And in an unexpected meeting! Again! This time, it was with 'Stand Up,' and I didn't waste any time catching up on what I missed during the time I was away.
At that moment, I was so happy. It was like a long-gone piece of me was finally found. Since then, I am with them and will always be with them. I do regret, to the bones, that I had been missing out on such gems the past years. My journey to meeting them, again, may just be another coincidence, but I would like to believe that it was all destiny. That it was written in beautiful italics under the Book of Destiny and was meant to happen all along.
The adventurous in me may have set sail along unstable waters, but who would have known that the same water would not trample me over, instead it led me in the best and calmest way. I may have gone on a voyage wherein Bullet Train was my destination, but from there on, the moment I found my way back home, I became more ready to embark on the gr8est journey of my life with them. I may not know what life has in store for me, but with them as my anchor and their songs as my sail, I am brave enough to conquer what these eyes could not lay on over the horizon.
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obriengf · 3 years
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Just a Name || Stuart Twombly x Reader
Prompt: 5 times Person A calls Person B by a pet name and one time Person B finds one for Person A. (CREATIVEPROMPTSFORWRITING)
Words: 1'046
Warnings: awkward stu
Notes: this came out way longer than it was supposed to be (title of your sex tape)
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1. Stuart knew that you liked to get a rise out of him. It wasn't malicious behavior in the slightest, but rather, a brief moment of amusement for you as you watched his face grow a bright shade of rose. Your Google team sat in a semi-circle around an erasable glass panel, numerous ideas for future Google products strewn across the surface in different colors and handwritten fonts. You clicked your tongue as you sunk into the bean bag, deep thoughts contorting your facial features. Nick nearly fell off the stool beside you as you suddenly leaped forward - eyes wide and harboring an unforeseen idea. Your hand was thrown beside you, making grabbing motions for the marker flipping between Stuart's lengthy fingers. He slipped the red package into your hand, provoking you to turn with a small wink, "Thanks, honey". Stuart froze, taken aback by your affectionate name-calling. You grinned, "It's just a name, Stu".
2. The bright colors adorning the Google building were overshadowed by grey clouds and rain. For the period of time you've been on this side of California, it may have only rained a handful of times. It wasn't your choice of weather. You peered over your shoulder as you watched Yo-Yo laugh whole-heartedly at Lyle as he tumbled down the large slide in the center of the entry foyer, his hand roughly rubbing at the back of his head out of embarrassment and slight pain. It brought a smile to your face on this dull day. You slowly let the umbrella perched under your left arm fall, catching it by the curved handle before preparing to open it. A very familiar beanie bobbled in your peripheral vision as you saw Stuart with a scowl, looking at the downpour outside, his knuckles turning white from holding the straps of his backpack so darn tight. You chuckled, "Hey cutie, wanna share?". Stuart turned to you with wide eyes, flicking between your face and the held-out umbrella. His scowl fell and was easily decorated with yet another bright rose tint.
3. Sport isn't your thing, and you're pretty sure the rest of your Google team feels the same way about their set of practical abilities. You did, however, still find yourself in a group huddle on the makeshift Quidditch field on the outskirts of the building's Volleyball courts. Two 'Flashdance' references later, and Billy was hyping you all up. He lovingly patted everybody's shoulders, ushering you all out onto the field. Hopefully, this will go better than the last time. The balls of your feet held you as you bounced side to side, your eyes trained on the quaffle heading your way. Neha was beginning to start your plan of action, aiming to intercept from the side, but the other team had their own plan and the quaffle was thrown over your shoulder. Stuart, of all people, managed to have his face collide with the fictional ball. You swore under your breath as you dropped by his side, "Stuart? You good, babe? How many fingers am I holding up?" Your hand moved rapidly in front of his face as he groaned out, "Wait, what did you call me?"
4. It was that unfortunately endearing British accent that threw you off your current task, your chair turning slightly to face Graham and his mischievous expression. If he wasn't such a pain in your ass, then you'd even find him the tiniest bit attractive; but thankfully, this isn't a romantic-comedy sitcom. He was gloating about their latest win in one of the many Google Internship tasks set before you - apparently, his team's idea about an upgrade to Google maps beat out your plans for a total Gmail overhaul. But you all can't be winners. As he left, you saw Stuart's fists beat down on the top of his desk, evident anger seething through him. You sighed, reaching over and placing your hand over his closed left fist, "Settle down, handsome, we'll get 'em next time." You cooed, his right hand gently laid on top of yours before you could pull back. Stuart exhaled deeply, "We're gonna kick his ass".
5. It was unexpected, but not totally untypical behaviour, as you stood back and stared at Stuart's draped body over the couch between your desks. He said he was coming in early, but sleep got the better of him. His arms dangled beside him, one leg hanging over the back, his beanie covering his face. You could have sworn you even heard him snore. The small smile over your lips broke as Neha tip-toed toward him, a marker in hand and ready to be used for some kind of graffiti across Stuart's cheeks. "Neh..." you warned quietly, your eyebrows furrowed in disapproval. She huffed and walked away. At the base of the couch and hidden under several pieces of paper, was Stuart's black-rimmed glasses. You picked them up carefully, lips pursing before slowly pulling back the beanie and placing the glasses in their rightful position. "There you go, angel eyes. All fixed." You cooed under your breath, turning around to place your belongings down, missing the curve of Stuart's lips at your act of kindness.
1. You all had a rough day today, but Stuart knew it hit you a bit harder. It's tough when you think you've let everyone down, especially when they've worked so hard - none of them blamed you, especially not the beanie-clad boy. He asked to take you somewhere when you all left Headquarters, and you silently agreed with a small head nod and accompanying smile. Now, you're both perched on the top of a bench, overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. Silence fell between you, but it was comfortable, understanding. Your shoulders lifted in a shiver from the evening's cool breeze, but Stuart was quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you in. Affection, let alone PDA, didn't often have a place in his usual actions. He rested his nose against the shell of your ear and sighed softly, "Shit happens, Y/N. It wasn't your fault, trust me. None of it was. You need to believe in yourself more, sweetheart." You smiled in response, so geuinely, and squeezed his arm, "That sounds nice rolling off your tongue."
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glowingbadger · 3 years
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I've been having major thoughts of Dimitri and Seteth dealing with a brat. Like they're laid back, do what they want, tease, and break rules sometimes on PURPOSE to bother them. Nsfw or sfw or both just anything from you is fine bc it's always chefs kiss
Well now, those are two VERY different ways of taming a brat I'd say :3 ((also thank you ^^))
cw: sub-dom dynamics, brat taming, some degradation
Dimitri, Seteth x Brat!Reader (GN)
NSFW 18+
Dimitri:
- Dimitri doesn't instinctively lean into power play, and if you begin to introduce him to it, he does enjoy it, but primarily as a softer Dom. As a result, getting bratty and teasing him for a while is just about the only way to see the harsher side of what he could be capable of in bed. In a way, that can be quite enticing in its own right; what self-respecting brat doesn't just adore pushing their lover until their restraint cracks and they show what they can really do?
- He can tolerate and even laugh off a good amount of bratty behavior- you're his beloved after all, and your more feisty nature is refreshing, and part of what drew him to you to begin with. To a great extent, it could be assumed that he even enjoys indulging your more willful behavior. That said, Dimitri is also well aware of a certain measure of appearances that must be kept to maintain public opinion of him as King, so every now and then, an infraction of yours here and there may need to be punished. Sliding your hand up his thigh during a banquet with visiting nobles, or pulling him aside just before a meeting to whisper a few lewd words to deliberately rile him up will both result in a loving yet firm scolding later.
- For such every-day naughty behaviors, you're likely to be gently reprimanded, yet with the slightest hint that perhaps Dimitri enjoys your teasing a bit more than he lets on. Usually, he prefers to make love by easing into you, allowing you to adjust to his size gradually, and in a position where he can face you and enjoy your beautiful expressions and luxurious moans. When you've been pushing at him a bit, however, he'll turn you onto your stomach and snap his hips aggressively against you, stuffing you full of his cock and stretching you out around him. Though even as he steadily pounds into you, he nuzzles the back of your neck and murmurs, "Darling, you know that I can't withstand that sort of teasing..."
- In general, Dimitri is far more likely to coax you into behaving with promises of time together that night. He catches you rolling your eyes when he tells you he'll be meeting with a particularly irritating and arrogant member of the nobility that night, and he laughs, brushing your cheek, then kissing your forehead and saying, "I know his kind tend to test your patience, my love- but if you can be good for me and behave during our talks, I promise I will spoil you as much as you like this evening. Anything at all that you ask of me."
- It takes a lot to really break Dimitri's restraint- he wants so dearly to be kind and soft towards you. While he never wishes to strike you, even at your worst behaved (need I remind us, the man is fully capable of breaking bones by accident and he would never forgive himself if he did anything eve close to that to you), he will instead use his near-inhuman strength to manhandle you on his bed into any position he wants to fuck you in for a full night of punishment. Dimitri has a good deal of stamina and takes a while to cum to begin with, so when you need to be well and truly put in your place, he'll fill you with his cock over and over until you're an over-fucked, incoherent mess beneath him.
- He's not very talkative when punishing you- in fact, the worse you've behaved, the more Dimitri relies on primal grunts and moans, rather than words. The most you're likely to hear from him is a low, rumbling, "I am not finished with you yet," as he lifts your leg against his body, spreading you for him as he fucks into you, with you merely laying limp on your side. That all said, once he's sated for the night, he'll carry your trembling body to a hot bath and massage away any lingering aches and pains. He dotes on you and praises you for taking your punishment so well, and after how hard and deep he fucked you and how sweet your darling lover always is to you, it's hard to not want to behave for him.
Seteth:
- We're basically on the opposite end of the Dom spectrum here; Seteth is ready and willing to punish you to the fullest extent for any number of misdemeanors. I've said before that he thrives in power play, and I stand by that (though I do see him as a switch over all). There's plenty that gets under his skin- risky behavior that could bring you to harm, flagrant disregard for Monastery rules or decorum, and of course, teasing him during work. While to others, he may just stiffen and clear his throat, you'll always catch the spark of warning in his eyes, telling you silently that you're toeing a dangerous line.
- Seteth is more than comfortable with experimenting with you until he discovers the full range of what you can handle (and not-so-secretly enjoy) in a punishment session. He'll learn exactly how hard he can spank you, how firmly you want his hand around your pretty neck, and how deep you can take his cock. His usual style of punishment is stern and uncompromising, but fair, and you may even catch him slipping into his "school disciplinarian" voice as he lectures you about your unacceptable behavior, spanking you across his lap while forcing you to keep count of each strike.
- One of his favorite ways to put you in your place- especially if you've been pestering him during his work day- is to force you to sit still with his cock nestled deep inside of you while he catches up on the paperwork your antics distracted him from earlier. He'll remind you that it's your own fault that he's too busy to spend time with you now, then slap your thigh or your ass if you dare to try moving even an inch. Then, if you're very, very good for him and stay perfectly still until he's done, he'll lift you and carry you to his bed.
- Boy can Seteth compose a lecture, even in the bedroom. When you've been especially bad, he'll tie your wrists behind your back and force you to your knees. Then, as he pushes his impressive length into your throat, he'll go on about how shameful your behavior has been, how you're "evidently no better than some common whore," and so on. If you're the type who likes verbal degradation, Seteth is almost unintentionally a master in the field. It may even get to the point that overhearing him reprimanding a student at the Monastery intensely arouses you, simply because of how your body naturally responds to that tone of voice.
- Okay hear me out. Calling Seteth 'sir' completely by accident while he pounds you against the bed for being especially badly behaved. And it just does something to him that he was not prepared for. He's gripping onto the headboard for leverage and slamming his full length into you so hard you lose your breath. Your eyes roll back, and he's scolding you, but you can hardly even make sense of his words anymore, so you just mumble out, "Ye- Yessir..!" and he groans, grabs your hips in both hands and says, "Again. Louder."
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roniscloud · 3 years
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psh - love affair
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park sunghoon [f. 8516 words] love affair
so when i’m gonna know what to feel inside, baby?
maybe it’s just all in my head, so
don’t overthink, this is love
maybe it’s just a crush
baby, is this your love affair, your love affair?
synopsis: what happens when two childhood best friends make a deal to help each other’s reputations? an unforeseen circumstance prompts sunghoon to approach you, intriguing not just you but practically every other student at your college. you believe your reunion with him can only end in one of two ways: you resort back to being friends and go on with your lives, or you use each other and once you’re both done, you fall out and never talk again. how will you two navigate your companionship? is it just the nostalgia coming up? a revival of feelings? a new crush? could it possibly be actual love?
genre + tropes : fluff. comedy. the slightest angst. childhoodbestfriends!au. enemiestolovers!au. college!au. fakedating!au. 
warnings: fem reader. a little swearing. slightly suggestive themes, sorta. a few cliches. mentions of underage drinking. the american collegiate school calendar. does them geeking out over fantasy/sci-fi sagas need a warning? unknown mutual pining. they’re so helplessly clueless of their feelings. also appearances of the rest of enha plus txt.
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i. prologue
if someone told you that you would reconnect with your childhood best friend—let alone date him, you would’ve laughed in their face and told them to fuck off. park sunghoon is bad news. well, at least to you he is. one of the infamous campus playboys, you can spot him around the quad flirting with a different girl practically every day. 
but to you, he couldn’t have been anymore unlike the sunghoon you grew up with. you grew up with the sunghoon who couldn’t stand being around others, mind always focused on his own interests. you knew him as the little shy boy who would hide behind his mom whenever new people came around. the first person he opened up to was you. you can blame your mom for that. you can vaguely remember her words, something along the lines of mrs. park and i have been friends for longer than you have been alive. when we found out we were both expecting, we knew you two were destined to be besties. 
she was right. everyone thought you were two peas in a pod. wherever one of you went, the other followed. always stuck together, like true partners in crime. your close bond stuck for years. if anyone needed you, you’d most likely be found in the seats of sunghoon’s ice skating practices and competitions, cheering him on and being obnoxiously loud. likewise, he always attended your showcases, spending hours complimenting your artwork.
but then the villain of everyone’s lifetime eventually appeared. puberty. 
alas, your friendship did what anyone could predict of a couple of preteens entering high school. the usual “no matter what we’re gonna stick together!” leading to “sorry for blowing you off, got really busy,” to the imminent “what happened to us? we used to be so close,” and eventually the end of it all. senior year, the two of you attempted to leave on a good note. by that, you mean your parents made both of you apply to the same colleges to have a chance at sticking together. well, it worked, you got into the same university. funny how the universe does things.
back to present day, you’re now in your second year at hybe university. let’s just say, sunghoon isn’t the only one who went through a personality change. sunghoon traded his late night practices on the ice to one-night stands at frat parties. you, on the other hand, traded your once outgoing and fun-loving persona for a more… cold grunge meets artsy introvert. overall, let’s just say you both have reputations for not being the most approachable people. well at least you still have one thing in common.
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ii. the cafe
the busy campus cafe was roaring with study groups filling every table. the aroma of fresh coffee and tea being brewed filling the air, creating a warm atmosphere—contrast to the cold winter weather just outside the walls. the college students scattered around, just like their minds scattered as they prepare for finals. not immune to the dreaded time of year, a group of four boys enter, immediately grabbing the attention of those already nestled inside.
a quick roll call of the four known by the student body as en-4, a combination of the dance crew name enhypen and the notorious f4. lee heeseung—the campus heartthrob, captain of the dance crew, center of the basketball team, and an unknown hopeless romantic. park jongseong, although everyone calls him jay—the resident bad boy and party animal, but those close to him know that he’s actually the responsible one. sim jaeyun, otherwise referred to as jake—the friendly and flirty frat boy who you can catch playing soccer in the quad almost every day. finally, park sunghoon—the handsome heartbreaker. he doesn’t need more of an introduction.
the four of them make their way to the counter, placing their orders. of course jake doesn’t miss his chance to sound extra sweet and send a quick wink to the barista, getting elbowed by heeseung in the process. after getting their drinks, they look around to see almost no where to sit. not a single table to fit all of them was available. 
in one of the tucked away areas, sunghoon spots an empty seat at a smaller table. the only catch was there was someone sitting across from it, hunched forward over her laptop. he can’t see much of her figure but he immediately recognizes her features. it’s you. well, a more mature and grown up you, but he couldn’t forget that face for the life of him.
sunghoon’s feet drag himself across the crowded room, catching the attention from the neighboring groups he passed but sneaking away quiet enough to not alarm his own friends. the three are too caught up arguing about what to do. sunghoon can hear the faint voice of jay suggesting going somewhere else while the other two shoot him down as he walks further away. he makes his way all the way up to your side. you look up, scanning him, confused but unamused. “this seat taken?” the first words he said in a year and half to you. still not not giving him any emotion, you hesitantly shake your head once, immediately bringing your focus back to your essay.
ignoring him only works for so long, his gaze not leaving the top of your head. you can feel his stare piercing into you, finally meeting his eyes. “what’s your deal?” the irritation and bluntness in your tone is all too evident.
he shrugs and answers nonchalantly, “nothing, just go along with it.” his answer is hushed, almost as if he’s a bit embarrassed.
“what are you trying to pull here, park?”
“can i not just sit here and peacefully drink my latte? am i that disturbing to you?”
“considering that the second you started walking in this direction, everyone had their eyes on us, then yes, you are that disturbing.”
“they’re not looking at us.” he pauses before continuing with his rant, “they’re looking at you.”
“and why the hell do you think that is?”
“they’re all trying to figure out what could possibly be so interesting about you that i would choose this seat.” he says it like it’s the most obvious answer.
you scoff and turn to see the lingering stares of the others in the cafe. “well, if it isn’t the god park sunghoon being as humble as ever, gracing me with his presence and having mercy on a peasant like me.” the sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom.
he smiles warmly at your animosity and chuckles. “i’ve always loved your sense of humor.”
“funny cause i’ve always despised yours. i’m gonna ask one more time. what do you want, park?”
he only shrugs. hesitating before responding again, “i like it here. i like talking to you. it’s familiar… comfortable.” he sees your expression change subtly. it’s only for a second before you regain the prior look. he tries to read you. he caught you off guard and his pride brings a smirk to his face. 
by now, he finally tunes back into the situation around him and can feel his phone going off in his jean pocket. he pulls out the phone to see dozens of notifications, quickly stealing a glance back up at you to see that you’re already back to typing away on the previously forgotten assignment. he laughs as he sees the boys blowing up their group chat asking what he was doing. he looks up, finding the three sitting at a cramped booth with shock and confusion written all over them.
“enjoying the attention?” your turn to break the silence. when he turns back to you, you continue, “you’re no stranger to it but you’ve always loved it.” he gives you a slow nod, turning the question back to you. you answer him, “you know that it’s not my forte.”
“and why is that? scared people will get to know the real you?”
“oh please, like you aren’t afraid of me exposing all the dirt i have on you. imagine the buzz i could create with all of your old baby pics.”
he jolts up from his relaxed position, eyebrows raised, and completely on edge, “you wouldn’t dare.”
you lean forward in your seat, elbow resting on the table, cheek resting in your palm, and chuckle, “try me.” the words leaving your mouth quickly and a smile immediately replacing it.
“you’re finally smiling at me. good to know you still have emotions.” he gets you to laugh again. you spend the next 20 minutes catching up. looks like you two kept more in common than you thought. things run smoothly between the two of you, some of your old memories and inside jokes being brought up. “why didn’t this happen sooner?”
“what, us talking? i mean, you and i stopped running in the same crowd and school got the best of us. i will admit, though, freshman year sucked without you.”
he sighs when he hears your admission. “how about this? a proposition. i’m sure you’re aware that i don’t have the best reputation.”
you cut him off, “you can say that again.”
“haha, very funny,” he throws in another sarcastic comment. “you know you’re not exactly the most approachable either. hate to be the one to break it to you but you’re pretty intimidating.” he notices the expression on your face turned into one of annoyance at his last statement, “don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”
you dismiss the slight jab, telling him to continue. what you don’t expect is the next four words to come out of his mouth. “go out with me.” he sees your face drop, “oh come on, stop looking at me like that.”
“so i see, a little bit of time without me and you go insane.”
“look, i don’t mean actually date me, i mean… pretend to.”
again, you stare at him like he grew another head. “you want me to fake-date you? what are we, in a k-drama now? sorry hoon, you’re attractive but i would’ve preferred hwang in-youp or song kang.”
now he’s a bit annoyed, answering cockily, “i am so much better looking than them.”
“you wish.”
his jaw drops for a few seconds and then he chuckles. “i’m serious, think about it. we go out and spend time with each other like old times. i don’t look like i’m so incapable of being in a committed relationship and you don’t look like such a loner. no offense.”
“offense taken… but i see your point.”
“see, look at you using that smart brain of yours. this would be no strings attached. just two friends helping each other out while simultaneously deceiving everyone else. i know how much you love tricking others.”
you sit quietly, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “deal.”
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iii. bro code
a few days later, sunghoon sits in his shared apartment with the boys, slumped on the couch as they eat dinner. “why are you guys so against it? i thought you wanted to see me in a relationship and now that i’m in one, you guys don’t approve. make it make sense. i should be free to date whoever i want.”
“yeah dude,” pausing to take a bite of his burger, “we get that.” jay answers, seeing how defensive his friend is getting.
jake interejects, “we respect your choices, but like… her? of all the girls that are falling at your feet, you chose her? the one that has no interest in you at all? i know you’re powerful but i don’t get how you managed to pull that off.”
“i feel like you could’ve consulted us about it first. bro code, man.” heeseung says as he shrugs his shoulders and sips on his soda.
“that’s kinda why i like her, because she isn’t all over me like the others. she’s cute and fun to hang out with. just give her a chance. honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? we go out and it doesn’t work. no harm in trying….”
that seems to do the trick as the boys lay off from the topic, going back to their own dinners and watching the latest episode of the penthouse.
later that night, sunghoon leaves their dorm to meet up with you. you agreed earlier that if you needed to meet up and talk that you’d go to the art department. perks of being an art major allows you a studio to spend your time in, secluded from the outside world. in this case, you and sunghoon don’t have to worry about nosy roommates.
when he arrives, he makes sure to take the back entrance like you mentioned. he makes his way through the deserted halls, glancing at each room he passes, and taking note of the various pieces framed along the corridor walls. he gets to the end of the building, finding a studio decorated with your name on the door. he silently enters. you don’t notice him at first with your back against the entrance and the music playing too loud through your airpods, focused on molding the clay on the pottery wheel. he grabs an empty stool, propping it beside you and taking a seat. he takes off one of your airpods, putting it in his own ear.
you finally turn your head towards him, “how long ago did you get here?”
“just now. how long were you waiting?”
you sit up, facing his direction. “i had a couple of classes today and came here to finish some stuff, been here for… what time is it?”
“um… almost 11.”
“then like four hours.”
“you’ve been working on that for four hours? what even is it, and when did you start doing pottery?” he points at the unfinished ceramic.
“not just that. i had some paintings that i needed to finish for my portfolio and those are in a separate room to dry. this,” you refer to the clay, “is just something i’m working on for fun. i got into it cause one of my profs suggested i try another medium.”
he nods along while you explain. “you can keep working on it while we talk.”
you hum in confirmation and turn back to the wheel, rewetting your wands. “so how do we make this believable? seems like people already know. word spreads quick when it comes to you.”
“we just need to act like a couple. so hanging out, going on dates, posting each other here and there, and being affectionate.”
“wow you finally found an excuse to kiss me,” you laugh as you joke with him, him following suit. “sounds reasonable, not much different from how we were as kids, just now we have to call them dates.”
“shouldn’t cause too many problems. just don’t fall in love with me, babe.”
you smile at the new nickname, “likewise, hoon.” you continue throwing the clay, molding it to your desired shape. you hyperfocus on the sculpture, tuning out the boy sitting next to you as he watches—he catches on that you still have the habit of pouting whenever you work on your art. you hunch forward, letting some of your hair fall in front of your face. too caught up, you don’t notice that sunghoon left his seat to stand behind you. he takes your locks and ties it into a messy ponytail. you snap out of your tunnel vision to ask, “why do you just have a hair tie handy?”
“i always had to carry some around for you because you always lost them. i never grew out of it, i guess.” he grins warmly, “do you remember how many times you had complained when you would get paint in your hair and i would have to clean it up for you?”
“how could i forget?” the night ends with more laughs and reminiscing on your childhood. time really does fly faster than you think.
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iv. rated pg
the bell rings as you and sunghoon enter the convenience store. you two are discussing the movie you two just watched as you walk through the aisles. 
you split up agreeing to meet back at the register. you make your way to the drinks in the back while sunghoon goes to get snacks. you grab an iced jasmine tea for yourself and an iced vanilla latte for hoon. sunghoon yells over the stands as he browses, “hey, what should i caption for my insta post?”
you respond loudly, “i don’t know, something related to movies.”
sunghoon looks at the picture on his phone: a photo of you two snuggled up in the theater, most of your face hidden in his hoodie. he types in quickly “rated pg for park’s girl <3”, hits post, and goes back to browsing. he goes to grab bento boxes, honey butter chips, candy jellies, and practically everything his eyes landed on. 
when you make it to the cashier, you see sunghoon with his arms full. “you good there, park?”
a muffled “yup” is heard behind all the food.
you look around, walking away when you find what you needed. going closer to him, “why didn’t you just grab a basket?” you start to take some things from his arms, lightening his load. 
“i… uh… didn’t think of it.” he pauses in between, an embarrassed expression adorning his face. you giggle as you take everything to be rung up, missing how his ears turned red. you catch the worker’s name on his tag, jungwon. before you can take out your wallet to pay, sunghoon’s already entering his card into the machine. you whip your head around, ready to tell him off. “nope, do not look at me like that.” you roll your eyes at him as you grab the bag with what you just bought. 
“oh come on… you can’t seriously be mad at me.” no response from you. “really? the silent treatment?” he scoffs jokingly when you cross your arms against your chest. he comes closer to bend down and wrap his arms around your waist. “it’s snacks. it’s not that big of a deal.”
you release yourself from his grasp and walk out of the store, still faking being mad. you mumble, “whatever,” under your beath but still loud enough for him to hear.
he bids jungwon a quick “have a nice night”, not missing him calling the two of you a cute couple. sunghoon meets up with you outside, already sitting on the curb of the parking lot. 
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v. pretty boy
the start of a new semester. en-4 are sitting out on the grass of the quad. surrounding them are various groups of students, typical for the buzzing campus on a crisp spring day.
“you need to cook the noodles first. end of discussion.” jake says sternly. he and heeseung are in a heated argument over the proper order of cooking ramen.
heeseung defends himself, “you are so wrong. you make the broth first to build the flavor.”
jay brings his attention up from his phone, “neither of you should be allowed anywhere near a kitchen.”
out of nowhere, a loud car horn is heard, drawing the attention of every student in the area. sunghoon looks up to find you leaning against the passenger door of your car and yelling, “hey, pretty boy! get in.” he chuckles at both the label and how bossy you sound, turning to his friends to grab his things. the three of them are stunned at him.
jake breaks first, “wait, what?”
heeseung lets go of his argument with the australian, “dude, are you seriously leaving?”
sunghoon only nods as he walks away, not letting them ask any more questions. he notices all the watching eyes and decides why not put on a show? he shouts out to you, “thought i was picking you up later, babe.” he makes sure to emphasize the nickname as his infamous smirk tells you exactly what his intentions are.
“lecture ended early, love. prof had some emergency. thought why not surprise you…” you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he reaches you and let him lay a quick peck on your cheek. “now come on, i’m taking you out on a date so either hop in or lose your chance. your choice but i don’t have that much patience so hurry up.”
“yes, ma’am,” he leans in closer and guides his hands lower from your waist. “but i’m driving,” he says as he sneakily takes your keys from your back pocket, 
“you sly fox.” he laughs at the new nickname as he opens the door, letting you sit down before closing it. he makes his way around the hood, noting that all attention is still on you two. he meets eyes with his friends again, the three looking much like the faces he saw in the cafe almost six weeks ago. as he buckles in and starts the car, you rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift. he raises his eyebrows and gives you a charming smile. “by the way, why’s your friend looking at me like that?”
he looks back up to face the boys, “which one?”
“jay. since we started doing this, he keeps looking at me weird—like weirder than the others.”
he tilts his head to the side when he realizes that jay is indeed looking in your direction, but his eyes are focused solely on you. “jay is… how should i put this? you know what i’ll tell you later. for now, tell me where to?”
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vi. jukebox
the hazy red glow of the neon lights and checkered tiled floors welcomed you as you led sunghoon into the local diner. this place was a staple in your childhood, your go-to hangout spot with the aforementioned boy when you were still in your youth. 
“i will say, this is a nice surprise.”
you look up to sunghoon as he sits across from you in the vinyl booth seat, “i knew you would love it.” you laugh with each other as you get situated, seeing a young but tall—why is he so tall? he looks like he’s only a teenager—server coming towards your table.
“hey, i’m niki and i’ll be taking care of you guys today,” the giant says cheerfully. “anything i can start you guys with?”
sunghoon looks up at the boy to take your order swiftly, “two strawberry milkshakes, please.” you watch as niki nods and walks back to the counter.
“well, well, well, park… you remembered?” you question teasingly with a cocked eyebrow.
“you’ve always had a sweet tooth. no wonder you loved me so much,” his turn to turn up the typical park sunghoon charm.
you scrunch your face in annoyance, “you should become a comedian.”
“i will never get tired of your sarcasm. it really just… keeps me going.” his way of joking back. “stay here. i’ll be right back,” he says quickly as he looks behind you and gets out of his seat.
you wait patiently for him, assuming he’s just going to the restroom. unbeknownst to you, sunghoon is making his way to the jukebox on the other side of the restaurant. he flips through the song list, finally finding the one he wants. he quickly puts in the coins and sets it in the queue. as he turns to go back to you, he sees an engraving on the side. he runs his fingers along it as he inspects the writing. property of sunghoon and y/n. he thinks back to your last day of eighth grade when you two etched the label onto the wood. he joyfully walks back to your table, ready to let you know about the memory. he sits next to you now, resting his arm behind you and around your back,
“what took you so long, park?”
right as he’s about to explain, niki comes to your table, “two strawberry milkshakes. anything else i can get you two?”
you turn your head quickly to the boy sitting next to you, seeing his eyes are already focused on yours. “um… no, i, uh, think we’re good.” you stumble and stutter a bit. you watch him as he nods his head and walks away. regaining your composure, you ask sunghoon again, “so what did take you so long?”
once again, he gets interrupted. the sound of “purpose” by justin bieber playing over the speakers makes him stop. he gives you a second to register the song, “that’s why.”
you tilt your head down and look at him quizzically, “really? this is why?” you reach to your drink, sipping on the straw as you wait for his answer.
he mirrors your movement, nodding his head in confirmation. he too drinks from the tall glass, contrary to your use of a straw, he opts to drink straight from the rim. he pulls the milkshake away, leaving some on his upper lip.
you burst into quiet laughter, turning your gaze away to not spit out your own shake.
sunghoon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “what’s so funny?”
you turn back to him, “you got a little something there, park.” you wipe away the liquid from his face with your thumb, popping into your own mouth to clean it up.”there, all good now.”
sunghoon freezes in his spot, trying to comprehend what just happened. it’s quick but he feels something. trying to shake off the foreign feeling, he turns to face forward again. he feels you lean into him, head resting on his chest. a small grin appears on his face, humming along to the justin bieber tune still playing.
“i missed hearing you sing.”
sunghoon looks down at the crown of your head, “really? you used to always tease me about it, though.”
you shake your head with a light laugh, “i never meant it. whenever you sang, it always calmed me. i used to think… if you didn’t pursue skating, you could’ve been a singer.”
“and then what? i would bring you around on tour everywhere and sneak you in backstage?”
“that could’ve been fun.” you now laugh louder than before, him along with you.
there it is again. sunghoon’s not sure what it is, trying to suppress the odd emotion. he sits there, cuddling up to you in the booth, finishing the strawberry milkshakes, just hoping you can’t hear the way his heart starts to beat faster.
sitting at the bar, snacking on fries, and trying to not be seen by you two are heeseung, jay, and jake. they ask themselves would they really be considered sunghoon’s friends if they didn’t follow them and stake out their date.
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vii. nerds
sunghoon picked you up from the art department today. he showed up about ten minutes too early, and he got permission from your instructor to monitor your class from the back. he waited outside the door while you cleaned up, earning a few prying looks from your peers as they exited. as you drove back to his place, you agreed to have a movie marathon. 
opening the door to his dorm, you say “we are watching star wars. luke, leia, and han solo are a way better trio than three child magicians.”
sunghoon defends his choice, “first of all, they’re wizards. second, i’m offended. harry, ron, and hermione use magic with their wands. all star wars has is weird weapons and robots.”
“they’re literally in space and excuse you, but does something called—oh, i don’t know—the force ring any bells? they’re jedis, duh.” you rolls your eyes, making your annoyance clear.
sunghoon stops in the hall, “harry potter has spells and potions.”
“star wars has chewbacca.” you stand next to him with your arms crossed.
definitively and matter-of-factly, sunghoon says, “quidditch.”
“you can’t seriously believe quidditch is praiseworthy?” you look at him crazily.
“you two are such nerds.”
you both freeze, turning to see the rest of en-4 sitting in the living room. in the midst of your argument, you both failed to notice the others were home. you realize that jay was the one to stop you two. you also realize it’s the dreaded time for the best friends to finally meet the “girlfriend”. sunghoon seems to realize it as well, reaching to intertwine your hands to both sell the act to his roomates and to calm you down.
he leads you into the living room, meeting eyes with the boys. “so… guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend.”
“it’s so nice to finally meet you! i’m jake. sunghoon here has been holding out on us. i mean, come on, it’s been like two months and he still hasn’t introduced you to us.” the australian continues on with his energetic and positive ramble, asking you questions about your relationship.
heeseung butts in to tell jake to slow down. “i’m heeseung. jake’s right though, you two started dating before winter break and we’re barely meeting you now. sunghoon is always hanging out with you and telling us everything about it. honestly, all i can tell you is to run while you still can.” the others all laugh at his antics.
sunghoon scoffs, “hey, i’m not that bad.”
you excuse yourself to get a drink from the kitchen. you can hear jake spitting out more questions like rapid fire to sunghoon as you walk away. you reach into the fridge, fishing out a water bottle.
behind you, jay enters quietly. “you two are cute together.”
you flinch at his voice, “geez, dude. almost gave me a heart attack.”
he chuckles under his breath and leans against the counter, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. i met sunghoon at freshman orientation and we immediately became friends, but i’ve never seen him like this.”
“really hoping you mean that in a good way.”
“don’t worry, it is. you know… he only has a soft spot for you. the three of us are his best friends but he only ever smiles like that with you.” he sways his head back and forth as he rambles, taking a pause between his words. “stay with him. it’ll be good for everyone.”
you smile at his approval, “you wanna know something? he actually said you would be the hardest to win over. he said something about you being super protective over your friends… yet, at the same time you trust their judgement. he told me that when he and i got together, he wasn’t scared to tell you but more worried as to if you would like me.”
he smiles with you now, “that all he said about me?” he asks while raising his eyebrows in curiosity.
“he also mentioned that you’re a good cook.”
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viii. proud
a professor of yours is holding their annual spring showcase for contemporary art. every year, a handful of students are chosen to join and display their art amongst other renowned artists. you happen to be one of the few, a top contender chosen for your abilities.
you’ve invited your friends, including en-4 to come by the studio and see your work—albeit a bit nervous for their reactions. you stand on watch by your section, greeting the patrons and waiting for the boys to arrive.
thankfully, they show up within the first hour of the gallery opening. they each show up looking professional and chic, sporting all-black fits—most likely at the hands of jay. sunghoon immediately finding you and leading the way for the rest. you welcome them in, explaining your collection, the concentration being “vulnerability.” the works are a mix of several mediums, majority being oil paint, each displaying a closeup of various people. the paintings show their bare faces, imperfections and blemishes with nothing to hide.
the night continues with more and more passing by, complimenting your collection. by the time the exhibition ends, you and sunghoon are the only ones left in the studio. he’s stayed in the same spot, eyeing one piece incredibly closely. throughout the entire showcase, he had kept going back to the one canvas. you join his side, linking your arm with his. “this one is my favorite,” you hear him say.
you look up to meet his eyes, “why this one?”
“because…  it’s you.” you takes your arm out and moves to stand behind you, now wrapping himself around you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. he holds your hands in his, “i am so proud of you. times like this, i am proud to call you my best friend.” he turns his head, kissing you once on your jaw, and then pulling slightly back to kiss you again on the cheek.
you turn around, hugging him closer with your arms around his shoulders, “thank you.” you hold each other for a few minutes. when you pull away, you lock eyes. you feel your heart beating against your chest and your breathing getting faster. you snap back to reality when you feel sunghoon’s lips on yours. you’re not sure why you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him back or why he grabs onto your waist while backing you into the wall. he continues placing pecks on the corner of you lips, creating a trail down to your neck. when you let out a sigh and say his name, he stops. there he stands, a few feet in front of you, awkward and unsure of what to do next.
he breaks the silence, “it’s late. i should drive you back home.” he watches as you slowly nod your head. the drive back to your apartment was dead silent. you tried to occupy yourself by looking out the window.
when he drops you off, he bids you a quick goodnight. “um… text me when you get back home.” sunghoon just looks forward, muttering “ok” before leaving.
in the elevator, you look at your reflection on the metal doors. you make your way inside your place and take a seat on your bed. your mind is too busy reliving the moments with sunghoon before. you try to comprehend what you should do but find yourself too tired, instead falling asleep and missing his text.
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ix. spring break
it’s currently the middle of april and the boys have made you an honorary member of en-4. you and sunghoon have been pretending to be a couple and successfully tricking everyone for the last four months.
everyone has the week off for spring break. jay, being the generous guy he is, rented out a cabin in the mountains for the now five members of your friend group. you all rode in one car on the way up, and you totally didn’t fall asleep in the middle seat while cuddling into sunghoon’s side. 
you all decide to settle into your rooms once you arrive. “so there are four rooms, two downstairs and two upstairs.” jay pauses, looking towards you and sunghoon, “i assume that you’ll be fine sharing one.”
you immediately answer, “yeah, for sure.” you look to see sunghoon avoiding your gaze, sensing knowing looks from the others. sunghoon and you already guessed that they would make the two of you share a room and truthfully, neither of you minded. growing up together meant a lot of sleepovers and sharing beds so this was no problem.
he continues on, “great, you guys can take the master bedroom on the second floor cause it has the most space. i’ll take the room next to you, heeseung and jake can take the two down here.”
everyone agrees and sets off to their assigned rooms. you and sunghoon drop your bags onto the mattress, starting to unpack. the interior is spacious, the tall glass sliding doors allow lots of natural light to come in. the room itself is cozy, king size bed with matching bedside tables, and a big fluffy area rug. you’re too distracted to notice that sunghoon has gone outside to the balcony. he leans against the railing, taking in the scenic views and the breeze, basking in the setting rust-colored sun. when you finally realize that he’s not next to you anymore, you silently make you way onto the balcony, wrapping your arms around sunghoon from behind.
he tenses up at the sudden contact, relaxing when he realizes it’s you. there it is again, his heart is acting up like at the diner. he’s noticed it more often—the way that whenever he sees you, his heart beats differently. this weird feeling in his chest, this warmth that only shows up around you. he gets lost in his thoughts, envisioning what could become of your situation.
“what’s got you so lost?”
your voice snaps him back to reality. he turns around to face you, “uh… nothing, just thinking.”
just when you want to question him further and talk about what happened at the showcase, a knock is heard on the door. sunghoon walks away, going to open the door. both of you can feel the awkward tension when he leaves his spot. 
“hey, we’re kinda hungry so we’re gonna order some food and watch a movie downstairs,” jake informs you two when the door opens. “feel free to come down and join whenever.”
“yeah, we’ll be down in a bit,” sunghoon tells him as heeseung nods before leaving you two alone again. you both finish getting settled before heading downstairs. you gather around the couch as ponyo plays on the tv and you reach for a tray of sushi. 
the night continues, the moon sitting high amongst the stars. after the movie, dinner, and some drinking games, everyone retires to their respective rooms. you plop yourself onto the bed, tired after the day’s activities. you hear sunghoon getting something from his bag along with the rustling of some plastic. you crane your head up to see him approaching you. he sits on the edge of the bed, now with fluffy headbands and face masks in hand.
you scoot back a bit, “nope. no way you are getting me to do that.”
he laughs lightly at your antics, “oh come on… let me take care of you, at least just for tonight. please.” he gives you a pleading look with pursed lips, dragging out the “please” to show how desperate he is. 
that was the deciding point that led to a spa night. you both changed into comfier clothes, you borrowed one of his hoodies and sweatpants. sunghoon got settled in closer to you and you reached for his wrist to grab one of the elastic bands. you adjusted your position to sit on your knees, reaching up to tie his hair back. he, on the other hand, took one of the headbands to bring your hair back and away from your face. 
by the time midnight rolled around, you two were snuggled under the comforter with face masks, surrounded by junk food, and on the fourth episode of some random netflix show. as the night continues, a wave of sleep starts to overtake both of you. you help each other take off the masks and clean up, getting distracted every few minutes because one of you would start messing around. the boys had stopped by to say goodnight, catching you two in the middle of a mild pillow fight. after sending them off, you fall asleep in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of your shared embrace. heeseung had snuck in at one point and stole a few quick pictures to tease you two with.
the dawn breaking through the sheer curtains causes you to stir in bed. you turn to see the alarm clock on the nightstand say 6:02. untangling yourself from sunghoon’s grasp, you sneak outside. you climb up to sit on the rooftop, feeling the cool chill of the dewy morning. the time alone gives you a sense of serenity.
meanwhile, sunghoon moves under the covers, confused why he can’t feel you. his eyes open and he doesn’t find a trace of you in the room. worried, he gets up and quietly searches the house, making sure to not wake the others. he goes into the backyard, seeing a shadow on the ground with an unusual shape. he looks up to find you perched on the roof, facing the opposite direction. he eventually climbs up to sit next to you. he hesitates before getting closer and putting his arm around you. you sigh as you lean into him. there you both stay, watching the sun come over the horizon in a comfortable silence.
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x. disaster averted
the following week, you all return to campus. needless to say, the break was well used—the days at the cabin mostly being spent at the lake or around the campfire. another day spent hanging out at en-4’s dorm after classes. sunghoon went out to pick up food for everyone. you are in his room, trying to cram for an upcoming test and failing miserably because the other three are all playing fifa way too loud.
while the boys are playing, the doorbell rings. jay gets up to check who it is, seeing a young girl and immediately recognizing her. he lets in yeji, sunghoon’s little sister. she casually joins the boys around the tv, catching up on whatever has been happening in their lives. sunghoon arrives back home within twenty minutes. 
“i’m back with the food,” he shouts out loud enough for everyone to hear including you behind his closed bedroom door. he places the plastic bags on the table, looking up to see another face. “yeji? what are you doing here?”
she gets up to greet her brother, giving him a hug, “it’s my spring break and i wanted to stop by.” sunghoon then realizes that his family doesn’t know about him becoming friends with you again or about your current situation. he drags her into the kitchen hurriedly, “ok so here’s the thing… you remember y/n?”
“of course! she’s like my big sister.”
his breath gets caught in his throat for a second, “yeah, don’t call her that. anyways, her and i are friends again,” he sees yeji’s eyes widen with excitement and continues with his explanation before she can cut him off, “and she’s my girlfriend.”
“what?!”
sunghoon panics and covers her mouth with his palm, “fake girlfriend!” he rushes out the whisper. “the guys don’t know that our relationship isn’t real and i’d like to keep it that way. they don’t even know that we were friends beforehand. yeji, i’m begging you to go along with it. please do this for me.” he clasps his hands together in front of him with a pleading expression.
the young girl crosses her arms in front of her and pretends to think about it, “hmm… fine.”
sunghoon blurts out a chant of “thank you’s” not knowing that his sister only agreed cause she always thought that you and sunghoon would’ve been a good couple. he tells her to help the others set the table while he goes to you. he quickly explains what’s happening and you’re just excited that you get to see yeji again. you both leave his room and you make your own way to the living room, spotting the other girl and exchanging glances.
yeji stops what she’s doing to turn and face you, “who’s this?”
you answer back casually, “y/n. i’m a friend of the boys, and you are?”
“yeji, sunghoon’s younger sister.” she says it proudly, bringing a grin to the aforementioned boy.
“oh, you’re yeji? hoon was right… you are pretty.”
she tilts her head and cocks an eyebrow, questioning you “why would he tell you about me?”
jake chimes in like it’s second nature, “i mean, why wouldn’t he tell his girlfriend about his sister?” he states like it’s so obvious. “they’ve been together since december.”
“girlfriend?” she takes a step back in false shock, “since december? why didn’t i know about this?” 
“what? i don’t seem like your brother’s type?”
“it’s not that. i’m just surprised he managed to get and keep a girlfriend. you’re like, way out of his league and he’s a loser.” one thing to know about yeji is that as much as she loves him, she will never miss a chance to tease her brother. 
with a scoff, you finally hear sunghoon join in beside you, “not gonna lie, that one hurt a little.”
“i’m so telling mom,” she says with a mischievous smirk.
you laugh at sunghoon’s shocked face and smile at the younger park, “i like you, i think we’ll get along just fine.”
“i like you, too.” she looks at sunghoon, “keep her.”
everyone laughs at the interaction as they settle in to eat. sunghoon sits to your right while yeji sits on your left, wondering how his two favorite girls learned to be such good actresses.
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xi. returning the favor
fast forward another month, the end of the semester means the dreaded finals week again. sunghoon has been, for lack of a better word, slacking on some of his classes and is now juggling to prepare for exams and revisions. couple that with yeji telling his mom about your “relationship” and her nonstop questions, all of this stress has been piled on. this all amounting to him getting sick. 
now, sunghoon being sunghoon means that he pushed everyone away and hasn’t told you about his condition. luckily for him, you’ve been cooped up in your studio trying to finish your portfolio and also prepare for your exams. unluckily for him, the boys have gotten worried and heeseung called you. 
which brings us to the present, sunghoon stuck in bed with a fever, congestion, and neglected notes. a knock on his door does nothing to help his headache but seeing your face meekly peek in makes him relax. “what are you doing here?” he asks hoarsely.
“did you really think i wouldn’t find out?”
he avoids your glare, “i didn’t want you to worry.”
“honestly i’m not upset that you’re sick, but that i had to hear it from your roommates.” you come closer to him, clearing out the scattered papers and textbooks from atop his bed. you sit on the edge, taking out some medicine and cooling packs that you picked up from the convenience store.
“you really don’t have to do this,” he twiddles his fingers in embarrassment.
you tie back his hair and place one of the packs on his forehead, “you’ve always been the one taking care of me, so i might as well return the favor.” 
you busy yourself with getting the cough medicine ready and sunghoon takes an actual look at you. he notices that you’re wearing his old skating jacket, the same one he gave you at your high school graduation. he makes more room under the covers, allowing you to come closer and lay next to him. he drapes one arm over you and holds onto the end of the jacket sleeve, “i can’t believe you kept this.”
“we stopped hanging out and we weren’t in each other’s lives for a year and a half after being together basically since birth,” you pause, a little saddened thinking back. “this was the last thing i ever got from you. it’s all i had left.”
he brings you closer, neither of you caring if you got sick. “well… now you have me again. for good.”
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xii. the party
the end of the school year has finally arrived. some seniors from the txt frat are hosting a big party to celebrate. of course, en-4 was invited—mostly thanks to heeseung being close with them. although you have made more friends and now have a more active social life, parties are still not your thing. 
yet, much to your dismay, being friends with designated party people means that you’re getting bombarded with pleas to go regardless. sunghoon took the lead on convincing you, “please, i promise that it’ll be fun.” the boys join in, their voices overlapping. sunghoon practically tackles you onto your couch while pouting and furrowing his eyebrows in desperation.
“stop looking at me like that. i can’t think properly when you do that.”
right on cue, the boys start to tease you. jay clears his throat and jake makes kissing noises, meanwhile heeseung starts singing y/n and sunghoon sitting in a tree… while you just glare at them.
“if i say i’ll go, will you all leave me alone?” 
they all shout “yes” in unison. which is how you ended up at the crowded frat house. although they had begged you to come, they practically abandon you and sunghoon when you get there. jake had yelled back to you that his friend sunoo from his econ class called them over for beer pong.
you and sunghoon find a big bean bag in the corner and stay there for a bit. he offers to get you both some drinks and leaves to the kitchen. you’re not sure how long he’s gone but you eventually get uncomfortable. you start wandering the house for some space to get some air. you find an empty room and make your way into the connected bathroom to wash your face. you take some deep breaths, then realizing that you didn’t tell sunghoon. as you’re about to step out, he enters the room.
“i figured you would want some space.”
“how’d you know where i was?”
he comes up closer to you, “in the sea of people, in this mess, in this frenzy… i will always find you. no matter what happens or who comes into my life, i always find my way back to you.”
“what the hell is that even supposed to mean, park?”
“i mean…” he stops to compose himself, “oh for fucks sake, i’m tired of this being pretend. i’m tired of being allowed to call you my girlfriend in public but not treat you like it in private. when i kissed you at the showcase, i had wanted to do that for so long, and i’ve been wanting to do even more.”
“sunghoon, look-”
“wait, i’m not done. what i’m trying to say is that i want you to be my girlfriend, for real this time—not as a joke, not as a trick. i want us to be together as an actual couple because i like you, a lot more than you could believe-”
you cut him off this time, kissing him like he did all those weeks ago. you kissed him in the way that you weren’t sure what words to say other than, “i would love to be your girlfriend.”
sunghoon shines with the biggest smile, picking you up and spinning around. when he lets you down, he incessantly leaves pecks all over your face. he holds you close, “now, how about we go enjoy the party?”
you nod and lead him hand in hand towards the door. you turn the nob, only to have the three remaining members of your friend group fall at your feet. heeseung landing on top, shouting out, “i fucking knew it!”
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bugsyfics · 3 years
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The Flower Who Bloomed (Part 2)
Undertaker x Reader
Fandom: BB
Summary: Undertaker requests for another visit with Y/N despite the conflict he is causing. Like Undertaker said, “once a lie is unraveled, the truth comes tumbling forth” —and so it does.
Warnings: Smut/notsfw, some serious teasing
Word Count: 1.8k
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After you leave Undertaker’s shop, dress slightly disheveled and hair every which way, there’s no doubt that you have been absolutely ravished. With one good stare it is obvious what activities you were previously involved in. But even as you walk aimlessly around town to find a carriage in the brisk fall air, Undertaker’s words still play in your head.
•••
“Do not tell anyone about our little encounter, dear. He wouldn’t —they wouldn’t be very happy,” Undertaker spoke low, biting his tongue.
Undertaker phoned the earl, informing him he had seen you trip on the sidewalk, and tended to your twisted ankle. While that was a great excuse, nothing could get past Sebastian and you knew he would try to put the pieces together.
“Come here before you leave, my little flower,” Undertaker motioned to you, “I want to see you again soon. How does next week sound?”
You were unsure after the mess you got yourself into, but you just couldn’t say no to him.
•••
Fortunately when you arrive, no one is at the entryway to greet you, so you quickly walk to your bedroom. As you hum to yourself, changing into your nightgown, a knock at the door startles you. You slowly open the door to the hallway.
“Let me see your ankle, Y/N,” Sebastian says plainly. “It won’t take long. I need to check if it’s sprained.”
You smile wearily and sit on your bed holding out your leg. Sebastian grabs your ankle gingerly and observes it for much longer than you would like. After wrapping it with gauze, he looks beside himself, eyeing a pile of your clothes. “I can take those down to the laundry for you.”
“N-no! U-um I mean… it’s my job anyway,” you stammer and smile at him awkwardly.
“I insist, Y/N. You shouldn’t be walking at least for a couple days.”
Sebastian goes to pick up your clothing and you sweat nervously, aware that your soiled undergarments are stashed between your dress. Of course he wouldn’t say anything because it would be ungentleman-like, but the idea of him finding your ruined panties swallows you whole.
•••
Some days pass and surprisingly no one brings up the glaring flaws in your excuse. Though Sebastian has been observing you more often and it’s clear he’s on to you.
Instead of letting your curiosity eat away at you, you decide to ask Sebastian a question only he can answer. You stand in the doorway of the kitchen as he prepares dinner and clear your throat. “Good afternoon! I have a quick question about something that crossed my mind recently. It may sound a bit strange.”
Sebastian looks up at you and wipes his hands on the towel laid across his shoulder. You notice the slightest smirk cross his lips as he nods for you to continue. “Is it possible that the Percy twins were killed by something inhuman?” You watch as he raises his eyebrows in amusement. “For instance, like in the tales where a supernatural being eats innocent children.”
“Where did this come from all of a sudden? I thought you didn’t believe in those silly tales,” Sebastian prys.
“W-well I don’t… There’s just no other way to explain it. There aren’t any witnesses and the way they were so brutally killed…” you falter from your rambling.
“Did you need evidence to believe in the Church, or was it just second nature for you?”
“I guess it was second nature.”
“Exactly, Y/N. So why question yourself, if what you believe is the only plausible explanation?”
You never thought about it that way. Undertaker wasn’t wrong when he said Sebastian knew all about the supernatural. Though at first glance you wouldn’t think this butler in black would be knowledgeable of such topics. You thank him and turn to leave, but notice a glow cross his orbs and you do a double take, unsure if what you saw was only your imagination.
•••
Here you are back in town the next afternoon to run some errands. Young Master warned you to be more careful and to pay attention to the time so you didn’t have another mishap. You expected his tone to be much harsher, though he is more mindful of what he says to you, since you are his youngest servant.
You cross off the last reminder on your list, smiling to yourself. The timepiece reads a quarter to one and you’re expected to arrive back at 3, giving you a little over two hours to spare. A jittery feeling starts in your belly when you hear the bell chime as you enter. Yet again, Undertaker is nowhere to be seen, so you call out to him.
“Hello? Sir, it’s Y/N.”
It’s eerily silent as you walk further in. You sit your bags down on his desk carefully and decide to call him once more. “Hel—” you gasp, feeling icy hands cover your eyes.
“It’s me, dearie,” Undertaker whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to raise over your body. You eventually relax into him and pull his hands from your face.
“You scared me,” you giggle and turn towards him.
Undertaker’s hat is gone and his hair is pinned back as he stands simply wearing both a black long sleeved shirt and pants. His bangs still fall into his eyes, and you can’t help but feel bubbly. He grins at you, rubbing your arm lightly. “It’s only been a week and I’m craving you, my little flower.”
He rubs circles on your hip and leans down to kiss you, but pauses above your lips. “Oh how I crave you... but you told our little secret, didn’t you?”
“No. I promise I kept my word, sir,” you shake your head.
He presses you onto his desk and runs his fingers up your spine, until he reaches the back of your neck, gripping it firmly. “That is what you say, but how can I be so sure, poppet? I had an unlikely visitor last night, you see. Hehe, I didn’t think you would turn around and disobey me like this.”
“I swear, I can prove it to you!”
It never crossed your mind that perhaps this visitor was Sebastian. You were too worked up to even notice that minor detail.
“Well, show me you’re innocent, love. Then I’ll believe you,” Undertaker orders curtly and pulls away.
You unfold your arms and reach behind yourself undoing your gown, letting it fall freely and the cool air causes your exposed nipples to harden. Undertaker reaches up to caress one of your breasts fondly, toying at your small bud. “How exactly does this prove anything, love?”
The truth was, you were innocent, but your mistake was letting Sebastian take your clothes. He never once impeded on your privacy nor searched through your garments. To him your arousal was just strong enough to detect and he didn’t condone a Phantomhive maid being intimate with a close ally of the Young Master. Sebastian was aware that Undertaker often revealed much more than he should and your little involvement threatened the trust he had with the earl.
Naive as you were, you knew that giving yourself up to Undertaker once more would not only distract him from finger pointing, but also allow you to feel his hands touching your body again.
You shrug at Undertaker, biting back a moan as continues his assault on your swollen peaks. He stops to wrap his arms around you, rutting his clothed hard on against your bare pussy. One of his hands travels down your back while the other rakes through his light bangs hastily. You watch him with wide eyes as he reveals a hard stare and you gulp, wondering what his next move will be. “Do you remember what I taught you last week? Something that I said before ravishing you.”
You shake your head. There was certainly more than just one thing that you considered to be a lesson.
He laughs in a shallow manner and wags a finger at you, “Once a lie is unraveled… the truth comes tumbling forth, my little flower.” He pauses for a moment to pinch your nipples, causing you to whimper. “Sebastian knows.”
Your mouth falls open, but for two reasons: you can’t believe that Sebastian would go to such lengths to find you out and also at that very moment Undertaker brushes across your clit, spreading your slick with his fingers. He eagerly teases you in every way possible, practically making you drip onto the floor.
“W-wait! H-how would he—”
Undertaker grunts, putting his fingers to his lips to taste you. He takes his time sucking each finger as if he devoured an entire meal, savoring your sweetness.
“He could sense it —your arousal— after you returned.”
“Sense it how? He must have snooped through my clothes,” you scoff.
Undertaker shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you, “Have you not gotten it, love? The butler is a demon.”
He places his hands beside you, leaning onto your much smaller frame. His nose ghosts over your ear as he speaks, “He popped by last night, apparently not very happy about us having it away. Hehe, I guess your arousal exposed us, dearie. Right now I shouldn’t be here touching you the way I am —I was warned. But you make me drool with anticipation for your delicate flower.”
Undertaker grins, his face visibly brightens. His hands grab on your hips, even after revealing this shocking information. His grip is possessive, trapping you against himself as he hums into your neck. You love every bit of how he is holding you and you want this feeling to last, but how could Undertaker remain so unbothered?
He whispers, telling you he is ready to take you once again. Though when he pulls away and his face comes into view, your heart starts to race, heavily unsettled. You notice the same glow in his eyes as Sebastian’s, but there is a different gleam lying behind them. You knew at that moment why Undertaker was so infactuated with telling you about other beings, and specifically Sebastian. He certainly isn’t human either.
Undertaker is utterly amused as he watches your eyes widen just as his cock slips deep inside you. He sees that you connected the dots to his secret and he chuckles. “What is wrong my little flower? Have you figured out my age yet? Or is it too many centuries to count on your fingers?” He grabs your hand and places a kiss along your knuckles with a sly grin.
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— bugs
Taglist: @second-weeb-chick
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goggles-mcgee · 3 years
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Too Late: Tom & Sabine (Commission for miner249er)
This is a sequel to Revolt of the Akuma, also a commission from @miner249er this will be multichaptered! 
Summary: Sequel to Revolt of the Akuma. How Paris and everyone there deals with Marinette’s akumatization and the many things born from it.
Previous Work                                                              Next Chapter
Business was slow but that somehow became the normal for Tom and Sabine, at first they resented it, they truly were busy bodies and they loved to work, needed to work, but then Marinette was akumatized and disappeared. Their baby girl was gone and it felt like there truly was nothing they could do about it. The worst part was they hadn’t even realized she was the akuma at first, they didn’t know things at school had been so bad that Hawkmoth was able to take advantage of their little Baguette’s emotions, and they hadn’t been there to help her through it. Their days seemed routine now, they would wake up at 3 AM instead of their regular 4 AM because of the guilt and the nightmares, they would prep the kitchen then Tom would start on the bread with his father Roland helping out since everything had taken its toll on Tom and he started to become forgetful in things to do with the bakery, even his timing was off. Meanwhile Sabine would attempt to do her morning meditation. The meditation was never successful nowadays because she truly could not clear her mind or calm her heart and memories of Marinette both good and bad would surface and she would be thrown into a fit of sobs that Gina tried her best to help calm. 
Roland learned the hard way that he no longer could hum his and his son’s song while making bread as it had reminded his son too much of Marinette and the larger man would break down in tears if he even heard the slightest bit of the song. He would call out for his daughter while hugging whatever he had in his hands close to his chest. Roland had never been the most affectionate of father’s, he wasn’t even affectionate with his wife, but when he broke down like that, Roland felt the urge to just hold his boy and comfort him. It pained him to see his son in so much pain, but Tom and Sabine were strong people and they picked themselves up in order to get through the day. 
Well, they tried their best and really that’s all anyone expected of the grieving parents. The day Marinette was akumatized and disappeared had been a normal day for them and maybe that’s what filled them with so much guilt. Their bakery was always busy and that was something they took pride in, before Marinette was born, the bakery had been their baby. They made it, helped and watched it grow, and they got to see it flourish. It was a lot of work and sometimes they would just get into this work zone where nothing else could grab their attention. Working with so many ovens and having to prepare so many things, there was only so much you could multitask before your brain felt full. Though those were only excuses, they had been neglecting their daughter and hadn’t realized it. Marinette knew how much they loved their bakery and how busy it could get and she always seemed to understand but now looking back on it maybe she had just pretended to be fine with it all. They tried their best to always ask how her day was when they would all have dinner together, but Tom would be the first to admit that sometimes even that just became routine rather than actual curiosity about their daughter’s day. 
They had deluded themselves into believing that Marinette’s world was rose tinted, and they had taken comfort in the lie. Maybe they truly just wanted to believe that Marinette was their always smiling baby girl and she had no problems to worry about because it would be easier to deal with than the reality. When Marinette had become fascinated with fashion and that fascination grew, Sabine and Tom had been happy and supportive of their daughter, yes their hearts hurt a bit since they had hoped that maybe she would take over the bakery for them, but then they noticed how much time her designing took up. It hurt to think about now but Sabine could remember thinking that it was a blessing that Marinette was distracted and busy because it meant they had more time for the bakery. The more they remembered their shortcomings, the more they felt. They felt too much now after not being able to for so long because of Hawkmoth.
After having to shut down any and all negative emotions, finally being able to express them was like breaking a dam. Crying was never just a little tears, it was always these heart wrenching sobs and it could be for the littlest of things like a broken toy or missing a bus. Anger, now anger was the scariest in everyone's opinion, once someone started yelling it was like they couldn’t stop, they would break things, maybe hoping to see a butterfly, then there was the crying. Everything ended in tears. Anger came quickly nowadays, more so than sadness, though maybe they worked hand in hand now. Tom had found himself more on the depressed side of things, everything made him miss his little Baguette, sometimes he still expected to hear her footsteps racing down from her room and out the door with a shout because she was running late. Sabine on the other hand, everything just made her angry, every little thing. She would even snap at Tom but she would immediately apologize because she knew it wasn’t his fault. If anything she was angry at herself, angry at the school, at Hawkmoth, Hell, even at their bakery.
 Some days she hated waking up to the work and the mingling, there were times where she was so close to just begging her husband to closing the shop for a while and taking a break or maybe closing it permanently. She hadn’t decided yet, but she just told herself to hold on, just hold on till their closing period or ‘vacation time’ as Marinette would say. Perhaps that was the reason why she wasn’t really giving it a serious thought, the whole giving up their boulangerie idea. It held memories, both good and heart-aching, of Marinette. Sabine would never talk about those memories with anyone but family now, but everytime she was working she couldn’t help but look over at their ‘Artisan Boulanger’ sticker at their storefront that was slightly crooked because Tom had been putting it on when Sabine had told him she was pregnant and he had slipped in shock and the sticker was forever a bit crooked. She couldn’t help the way her hands would clench over a box or bag when giving a customer their things, Marinette had designed them and each time she handed them over it felt like she was giving away a little piece of her daughter each time. 
“Have a wonderful day.” Sabine muttered to the latest customer of the day not even caring that her voice came out monotone.
“You as well! Merci Madame.” The young boy who had come in thanked her but Sabine just watched impassively as he hurried over to his friend. “Dude can you believe it? We get to eat pastries that the Protector ate!”
“Correction, we get to eat pastries that Ladybug ate.” His friend responded.
“That hasn’t been proven yet. That’s all just speculation man.” The first boy laughed as they made their way to the door and Sabine had to take in a deep breath or else she might have thrown something. How dare they come into their shop and talk about their daughter as though she wasn’t a person. How dare they treat her akumatization as some spectacle for them to worship and admire. How dare them all.
“Speculation? You are sorely mistaken bro, look at all the evidence! I’ll send you all the links then you’ll see.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Sabine just stared at the young men even after they had left until she no longer could make them out. This. This was why she no longer wanted the bakery, it no longer held the same joy it had when Marinette was there and Sabine and Tom hadn’t even known it until she was gone. 
“Bonjour Madame.” Sabine was ripped from her musings by another customer walking in, a regular in fact, Mlle Josephine Bernard. She had been coming to their boulangerie since they first opened and had always been very kind to Marinette. In fact, she commissioned Marinette a few times as well.
“Bonjour Joséphine." Sabine greeted with a small smile, the most she could manage.
“One rhubarb tart please and a pain de campagne. I’m making stew tonight and my fiance loves when I pair it with your bread.” Joséphine said with a kind smile as she took out her money and change and placed it on the saucer on the counter.
Sabine couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped, Joséphine always had exact change and honestly it was a welcome habit to Sabine. “Are you going to share the tart for dessert? It is small, are you certain you would like just one?”
“Oh no, that’s just for me. Our little secret okay?”
“Your secret is safe with me.” Sabine promised as she swiftly gathered Joséphine’s order, once she made her back to the counter to hand everything to the woman she was caught off guard when said woman placed her hand on top of Sabine’s.
“How are you holding up Sabine?” 
First instincts were yelling at her to lie, to say everything was fine despite everyone knowing it was not, but another part of her was yearning for reassurance that wasn’t from her husband or his parents. “I...I’m trying. But it’s hard. It’s hard when people come in and talk about my daughter as if she’s this thing that is more than human, more than just a teenager. They don’t even say her name anymore. Tom and I have had to move and lock away her things because...because people have broken in and stolen her belongings in order to steal or collect them. The police have been no help on that front. They told us to just get better locks. As if it is our fault that people are breaking in.” Sabine took in a shaky breath before continuing, “We get people who leave “gifts” instead. They are letters to Tom and I, accusing us of abusing Marinette...of neglecting our baby. They seem to think we don’t care about what happened to her Joséphine. We’ve had to replace some windows after one incident with a rock and some spray paint.”
“Oh my goodness Sabine! I’m so sorry. You and Tom don’t deserve any of that.” Joséphine gasped out, but Sabine wanted to argue that maybe they did. “That is just cruel and disgusting. If you two ever need anything please don’t hesitate to ask, or if you just need to talk or get out of the house for awhile, call me okay? Things...things will get better.”
“Merci Joséphine...maybe I’ll take you up on that. Enjoy your treats and tell me how Stephan likes everything okay?” Sabine responded after a while.
“I will...I will keep you and Tom and Marinette in my prayers. Merci Madame.” Joséphine said before leaving. 
Sabine’s movements felt robotic as she walked over to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign letting everyone know they would be closing for lunch. It was a small mercy that they were already at the middle of their day. Thankfully Roland and Gina would have lunch ready for them, they had been so helpful through everything but sometimes Sabine couldn’t help but feel like even they blamed Tom and Sabine for what happened to Marinette. Sabine knew how much Gina adored Marinette and she could see how much getting to know Marinette had meant to Roland, to have their granddaughter gone so all of a sudden, they too were grieving in the way they best knew how. They parented and distracted themselves with helping out Tom and Sabine as much as they could, that would be why they were staying with them. She knew how Roland was about them being late to lunch so Sabine made her way to the kitchen to see Tom baking but it looked like he was doing everything on autopilot, she wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t even heard Joséphine come in. 
“Tom. Sweetheart. It’s lunchtime, let’s go eat with your parents.” She mumbled as she placed a soft hand on Tom’s shoulder stopping him from decorating the last of the cupcakes he had made. 
“Oh...Lunchtime already?”
“Yeah. Here let me put those on display then we’ll head on up.” She took the tray of cupcakes gently from him and went out to the front again to put them on display where she saw several people looking in their shop. She decided to just ignore them...and the camera flashes, though maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to pull the security gates down just while they were upstairs for lunch. In fact that’s exactly what she did. “Ready to head up dear?”
“Hmm? Oh yeah, ready. Let’s go eat. It’s been a long morning.” Tom said with a small smile. She felt like it was more for her benefit but she still appreciated it all the same. Once they went upstairs they went through the motions of eating lunch and if someone asked Tom and Sabine what they had eaten, they wouldn’t have been able to answer, but they gave the obligatory remarks of, “This is so good thank you,” and,” So good. Maybe you can make it again sometime.” Maybe Roland and Gina saw through them, they probably had and the fact they made no comment about it truly was a blessing. As a way to avoid conversation if they needed to Sabine turned on the television and it just so happened to be the news.
“And as promised viewers video footage of The Protector in action. This footage was donated to us by an anonymous source who had happened upon The Protector out in the open when she was akumatized. I want to warn everybody, the footage may be shocking to some viewers. Roll the clip please.” Nobody spoke. How could they? Sure they knew people still had some weird fascination with their daughter and granddaughter’s akumatization but the news stations had stopped reporting on it or at least they thought they had. Nadja certainly hadn’t given them a heads up about this little ‘special’ of theirs like she had done previously, and yet here they were watching her and Alec talking about their daughter and they wouldn’t even say her name. She has a name. Sabine robotically pressed on the remote to see more info on the program and had to swallow back bile, ‘The Protector Really Paris’s Protector?’ that was the title and already Sabine could feel her anger rising. She didn’t bother reading the summary, she already knew what this special was about.
 She watched as her daughter, her baby girl, bent down in a patch of butterfly bushes crying her eyes out, sobbing out her hurt for anyone and everyone to hear. Her baby, even in the distance of the camera, looked so angry, so torn, she should never had to have felt like that. The video continued on with this person slowly zooming in on Marinette and Sabine had to wonder why this person was recording at all. She could never understand people’s obsessions with filming akumas, at least many filmed from a distance other than Alya and sometimes Nadja but it was always after the fact the person was akumatized. Maybe that’s why this particular video was bothering her so much, this person, whoever they were, they were filming her daughter breaking down because they knew at any moment she would be akumatized or, and the idea made her sick to her stomach, they were hoping she would be akumatized. They were hoping for a chance to have a video go viral, maybe they weren’t  but that’s the only thing that Sabine could rationalize why they would be filming her teenage daughter in the first place.
The video was a bit shaky as it seemed like the person filming didn’t want to be seen even though there was no one else there. Sabine hadn’t realized she started crying until she felt the tears hit her hand. She hated seeing Marinette in pain and her not being able to comfort her. She, her husband, and his parents watched with bated breath as they saw an akuma finally fly into frame and slowly make its way towards Marinette. Sabine wanted to shout out a warning, do something, but she  knew it was pointless and that just made the tears fall more. Everyone watching could tell that Marinette hadn’t noticed the akuma at all as she was still sobbing and wailing, Sabine could feel Tom squeeze her hand and she squeezed his right back. Then the akuma landed and merged but that wasn’t the shocking part, they had to watch their daughter stare at nothing with too-wide eyes and the familiar symbol of Hawkmoth over her face sit there as dozens...no, maybe hundreds of butterflies, white butterflies surrounded Marinette and landed on her body. 
Then a bright light flashed, it was so unlike any akumatization anyone had seen, the butterflies were gone but if you looked closely at the fading light surrounding Marinette you could see the faint flutter of wings. Then she stood up, the Protector stood up. Sabine sobbed and not for the first time cursed at her daughters classmates, they had been around Marinette the most, they knew her daughter, she did everything for them and yet they treated her like that. To the point of akumatization. Sabine prayed that her little girl wasn’t actually Ladybug like it was speculated, even if it made sense, because that would mean her daughter had been suffering through more than just everything going on at school and really, Sabine wasn’t ready to face all of that just yet.
“Now before we discuss everything in that video I will say we do have many more to share so stay tuned Paris!”
Next Chapter
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Enemies to Lovers
For Maribat March day 23 theme enemies to lovers
Master List
“Kent’s coming over.” Damian stated at breakfast, none of the other Wayne’s seemed phased by this, none but one. 
“Again?” At Damian’s nod she continued, “I’ll be in my room or the Batcave so don’t bring him there.” 
"He will also be bringing a friend over from that exchange program his school did with the one in London." Damian added, Marinette tensed a little bit but didn’t say anything else.
"Is Jon bringing a stranger over a good idea?" Tim asked.
"Tt, Kent said that he would make sure the boy wouldn't wander." Damian answered, after 9 years in the manor he still hadn't gotten rid of his tt habit. 
"I'll be in my room then, I don't want Jon or his friend bothering me." Marinette announced to no one's surprise.
“Marinette,” She turned to look at Dick, “Why don’t you like Jon? This has been going on for almost a year now. Surely you could give him another chance. Or at the very least his friend?” 
“Not interested.” And with that she finished her breakfast and went to go help Alfred with cleaning the dishes, like she did every morning. 
Damian watched his younger half blood sister go, frown evident on his face. Marinette Wayne had been living with them for over a year now. While she was now 16, her opinion of one Jonathan Kent still had not changed. 
After Bruce had a one night stand with her mother she had been born 9 months later, Sabine having no intention of telling Bruce. What she did not expect was that 15 years later she and her husband would be guilty of negligence and emotional abuse of Marinette and custody would be handed to her bio father. Aka Bruce Wayne. 
Marinette changed her last name to Wayne and left her life in Paris behind. There was not much left for her there anyways. But she had never told her new family why she was so insistent on leaving Paris behind. More specifically who she was leaving behind.
The Waynes had gotten used to her bubbly personality in the manor, so they were shocked that when they sent her off to Gotham Academy she was dubbed the ‘Ice Princess’ the next morning.
Turns out after what happened in Paris, she refused to open up to anyone. Most days she was found sketching in her sketchbook, always alone. She still got straight A’s and even participated in a few clubs but never made one friend. It was concerning, how much she resembled Damian in that sense.
One day after patrol, after Marinette headed off to bed they started discussing Marinette's social life. Tim had joked that since she's such a ray of sunshine around them that she should meet Jon. 
This idea was met with positive reactions, all of them agreeing that Jon would be a good influence for her. He was also her age so that was a plus. And he was Damian's first friend, perhaps he could be Marinette's.
That weekend they were proven wrong. Very wrong. Marinette refused to be in the same room as Jon, and when trying to gently push the boundaries she had set, she grew hostile. Something they had never seen from her for as long as they had known her. 
One of their first thoughts was that she was scared of Jon, since he was half Kryptontian. But that idea was quickly shut down after Jason brought up the time she roasted Superman to his face. And had no regrets. 
Then they figured it was because he was still a stranger to her. So they had him over more often. But after 2 months they realized that wasn’t the case either. Yet, none of them had the slightest clue why she was so against Jonathon Kent. 
Not even Jon knew. All Jon knew was that whenever he walked into the same room as Marinette she grew annoyed. He knew she disliked him but that wasn’t what he was confused about. What made him confused was that he could sense her fear. She was scared of him, and he had no idea why. 
He thought about telling the Batfamily, thought about telling Damian, but how would it go over that the latest addition to the Batclan was scared of him. Especially knowing how paranoid and protective they could be. So he just stuck to avoiding her at all costs, it wasn’t that big of a deal anyways. 
Marinette didn’t see Jon as an enemy per se she saw him as an enemy, but he was just someone she strongly disliked, she had her reasons. And while Jon definitely didn’t see Marinette as an enemy, the more she ignored him, and he would need to ignore her, started to grate on his nerves. If she was in a room that he was going to enter he would have to wait for her to leave and vice versa. It was getting tiring and he was starting to dislike her more and more to the point she almost became his enemy. 
Today would be no different except for one detail. That detail being a blonde haired, green eyed, sunshine child that reminded Jon of himself. While Adrien was a little too naive for his taste, they had gotten along great and he wanted to introduce him to Damian. 
Adrien had seemed intrigued by the idea of meeting a Wayne. Apparently his father used to be a businessman and despite the fact he was from France and only moved to London a year ago, he knew of how famous the Waynes are. 
Now here they were, in his dad’s car going to Wayne manor. 
“Okay, you remember what I told you right?” Jon questioned Adrien, he was making sure the boy was prepared and didn’t accidentally stumble upon the Batcave or anything relating the Waynes to the Bats.
“Yes I know, no wandering around the manor, it’s too big and I’ll get lost. No staring in awe at the Waynes, they’re not the celebrities the press makes them out to be. And if I see a girl with dark hair, blue eyes, and looks to be a head shorter than me, I am to walk away immediately in the other direction and pretend I didn’t see her.” Adrien listed off. 
“Perfect!” Jon, exclaimed he was going to add more but his dad interrupted him. 
“Okay boys we’re here, I hope you have a good time Adrien.” 
“Thanks Mr. Kent, I will!” Adrien cheerfully replied as he followed Jon out of the car. Sometimes this boy reminded Jon too much of himself. 
“Master Jon, lovely to see you again. Is this your friend?” Alfred greeted them at the door.
“Yep! This is Adrien Graham de Vanily, Adrien this is Alfred, the Waynes butler but is more like a surrogate grandfather if anything.” Jon introduced. 
“Nice to meet you Mr. Alfred.” Adrien stuck out his hand to shake. 
“It is nice to meet you too Master Graham de Vanily, please just call me Alfred.”
“Then you can just call me Adrien, Alfred, my last name is such a mouthful.” 
“Of course Master Adrien, now will you two be staying for dinner?” 
“I don’t know, is it okay if we do?” Jon answered, secretly asking if she would be okay with it.
“It’ll be okay Master Jon. I will inform the others we will be having two guests stay with us for dinner.” Alfred led them inside, “Master Damian should be in the gaming room.” And with that he left. 
“Come on, Damian is probably setting up some games for us to play.” Jon grabbed Adrien’s hand and started dragging him down a hallway. 
Marinette could hear when Alfred had opened the door for Jon and his friend, she didn’t have super hearing but she had trained her ears for listening for certain things. Like the front door opening. 
After a few minutes Alfred had come to tell her the two would be staying for dinner. It wasn’t ideal but she could live with it, all she had to do was give Jon and his friend the cold shoulder for at most an hour. Nothing new to her.
Now a whole hour had passed and she was getting hungry. She still had another hour till dinner so a small snack would be fine. But leaving her room posed the risk of running into Jon or his friend, and she didn’t want to risk an interaction with either of them.
Both of them are with Damian right now. There are no bathrooms near her room or the kitchen. If she hurries it will only take her 10 minutes to get to the kitchen, grab the cookies she made earlier, and come back to her room. And since Damian was banned from the kitchen this week, and both of his new friends are stuck with him, they shouldn’t be anywhere near the kitchen. 
Of course when was the universe ever on her side. She was about to open the kitchen door when someone she thought she would never have to see again uttered her name, “Marinette?” 
She knew the voice. It was the same voice that told her to stay quiet all those years ago when a vicious liar ran her mouth. The same one that said he was on her side then abandoned her the second things got too tough for him. The same one that didn’t speak up whenever she tried to defend herself, instead saying not to rock the boat. And now the owner of that voice was in her home. 
She steeled her face into something cold and emotionless, despite the fear she felt in her stomach and turned to face him, “Agreste.”
“It’s Graham de Vanily now.” He corrected, both forgetting/not noticing the two other people there. 
“Pretty sure it’s Agreste, you know, just like your father.” She bit back, venom laced into every word. 
“He’s not my father, not anymore.” He replied, fists clenched at his sides, staring her straight in the eyes, confusing the other two boys.
“You sure, because you’re exactly like him, you know.” She raised an eyebrow and matched his gaze. 
“I am nothing like him.” Adrien took a threatening step forward and that’s when Damian immediately stepped in front of Marinette, wanting to protect his little sister from this person who just threatened her. Damian was about to ask something but was cut off when Marinette moved around him to face Adrien. 
“Really? Both of you put your own wants and desires above the well being of other people. Your father the people of Paris, and for you it was me.” Jon saw she was visibly shaking, from fear or anger he wasn’t sure. Both emotions were pretty strong for her, and when he focused on Adrien all the boy felt was guilt. 
“Look Mari I’m-” He was cut off by Marinette’s angry shout. 
“You would think that after all you put me through you would at least have the dignity to not call me by a nickname that friends are only allowed to call me. You know, people who actually care about me!” 
“Marinette, I’m sorry okay, that was really dumb of me!” Adrien shouted back. 
“Save it! You can pretend to regret your actions all you want, but people like you don’t change! That’s something you taught me!” Snack forgotten, Marinette ran back to her room and slammed the door. Locking it, she slid down the back of it and just cried. 
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do Graham de Vanily. How do you know my little sister? Why did she react to you like that? What did she mean by ‘all you put her though?’...” As Damian kept spitting out question after question Jon followed Marinette. Her cries were the only thing he could hear right then and there. 
As he made his way closer to her, the cries stopped, only tiny sniffles coming out. “What do you want Kent?” He could hear the shaking in her voice no matter how much she tried to cover it up. 
He sat down, his back resting on the closed door thinking about what he should say. “I wanted to see if you were okay.” 
“I find that hard to believe. You wanted answers didn’t you?” She hiccuped in between words.
“A little bit.” 
“Well once upon a time there was a teenage girl who wore rose colored glasses all the time. She saw the world in rainbows and sunshine, never knowing of the darkness. Then one day a lying fox came into her life, spreading her tall tales. The girl tried to warn her friends and family but they didn’t listen. The fox ripped off the girl’s glasses and forced her to see the world for what it really was. The girl’s love at the time came to her and told her to keep silent, after all the fox’s lies weren’t hurting anyone. It was then she noticed that the boy wore the same glasses she did, only his were much stronger than hers had ever been. But she loved him, so she believed him, that everything would turn out okay, that if it didn’t he would be by her side. 
Slowly those around the girl turned on her, despite her doing nothing wrong. The boy who she once loved left her the second things got tough, never letting her stand up for herself. Soon the lying fox had gotten to her parents, things escalated from there. Now the girl moved to live with her bio family and everything was fine for a time. But then a boy who saw the world in sunshine and rainbows came around, and she was reminded of her past all over again.” Marinette finished her tale, her hiccups had faded away. 
“You don’t like me because I remind you of Adrien?” He hesitantly asked. 
“You don’t just remind me of him. Every time I see you I see him. But you’re also different from him. I don’t know. When you’re all happy and optimistic you're like him, but you also know how to be serious, which is something he could never do. I don’t know how to explain it but I thought if I kept you away from it would be alright. I really messed up didn’t I?” Marinette tried to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. 
“Kind of. But if you want we can start over.” Jon suggested, he wouldn’t mind getting to know the Marinette Damian talked so fondly about, not that Damian would ever admit it. 
He heard the lock unlock and he stood up as the door opened. He turned around and there was Marinette, her eyes were a little red and she had tears stains on her cheeks but she looked much better than before. 
She stuck her hand out, “Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Marinette Wayne.” She looked up to look in his eyes and wondered if they were always so blue. And oh god please say she didn’t start blushing!
“Nice to meet you Marinette. I’m Jonathan Kent, but you can call me Jon.” Jon took her hand and shook it, his eyes looked into hers and he couldn’t help but think they looked so beautiful when they weren’t glaring at him. Unfortunately, Damian’s scream broke them out of their daze.
“ANSWER ME!!!” 
“We better go help him.” Marinette pulled her hand back. 
“Yeah we probably should.” Jon replied but Marinette was already racing to where they left the boys. Jon ran to catch up with her, mentally berating himself for thinking his friend’s sister was cute. 
Marinette on the other hand was mentally berating herself for thinking that someone she used to dislike so much was now cute. Not to mention he’s her brother’s best friend. Well, Damian doesn’t have to know she thinks that.
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I’m back from the dead! As I said before in What If... (which you can find on my master list day 22) school sucks and has been burying my grave so I had to focus on that for a while. But I have this and What If... done and am planning on doing the other days I have not crossed off on my Master List. 
This took so long to write and I’m already planning a part 2. Anyways hope u enjoyed!
@maribatmarch-2k21 
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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years
Text
ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 31
(Master Post)
Thank you everyone that took part in the contest. The entries and voting participation were amazing!
I can't thank you guys enough for making this such a fun time.
And congratulations to @bevvydraws for winning.
and the other wonderful finalists: @emdoddles, @heizerux, @dhdrawings and @spaghetti-l0rd
I hope you all enjoy this next part. I would love to hear your comments, and please share if you think it is worth being seen by others.
_______________________________________________________________________
“Lila!” Mrs. Rossi cried out after her daughter left the room in a hurry. The diplomat was ready to run after her only daughter.
“Mrs. Rossi, a moment please.” Principal Damocles asked with a demeanor that was stern yet not too harsh.
The mother turned to the elderly principal and the young concerned teacher standing next to him.
“Miss Bustier, please go locate Lila for us. I will handle everything from here. Afterwards, head back to the classroom.”
The red-haired teacher snapped to normal.
“Oh, of course. If you need any additional information, please reach out to me.”
The young teacher left the room to go find the young exchange student. Leaving the Principal and Lila’s mother alone.
“What is all of this about Mr.Damocles? Why was my daughter so distraught?”
The owl hero enthusiast took a moment to contemplate how he was going to word his discoveries to Lila’s caring mother.
“Mrs. Rossi, are you aware of Lila’s actions and behavior at her previous school?”
“Of course, My daughter was an excellent student. Top of her class, perfect attendance she was the perfect role model from the report cards I received.”
The principal took a breath which seemed to take the wind out of Mrs.Rossi’s statement.
“I was afraid you would say that.”
The principal turned his computer screen to Mrs. Rossi.
The older gentleman sat by patiently as he watched the mother frantically go through each document.
“There must be some mistake. I haven’t seen any of this! My daughter is a good girl!”
“I am afraid those are the records I had attained this morning. I made sure to check that these were authentic before calling you, and I have yet to find a single reason to believe that they have been altered.”
The horror that the Italian diplomat was experiencing was clear. She did not want to believe that her daughter had been lying to her.
She had gotten to the last document, an audio file.
“What’s this one?” She asked nervously, unsure if she even wanted to know the truth behind it.
“It is an audio recording of your daughter. She seems to have been bullying one of the students at our school. I would normally like to get both students’ side of the story before making any rash judgements, but the evidence in the file is rather concise.”
Mrs.Rossi could feel the tension in the air, this was likely going to be something that would change how she viewed her daughter, but she needed to be sure that these accusations against her were true. The diplomat knew that if there was even the slightest hint of doubt, she would use it to fight for her daughter with every fiber of her being.
“Let me… Let me hear the file.”
The principal took note of the woman’s conviction. She was willing to see this through to the end.
“Very well.”
He presses play.
__________________________________________________________________________
“Lila!” The young red head teacher called out in concern as she exited the school. She had been searching the entire building for the young transfer student.
She blamed herself for how everything turned out. How could she not have noticed the way Lila was acting? How could she not be aware that one of her own students was lying to her? Why was she so blind to the malicious actions of her own student? Was there a way to bring her back to being a good person?
Caline kept looking as these questions kept swarming her brain. She had to find Lila, she needed to talk with her firmly. She needed to see if there was still some good in her. Maybe she could help Lila turn over a new leaf, she was still just a young teen, she had time to turn things around. Chloé had started improving a bit since the start of the school year, so maybe Lila could as well.
A flash of light from a nearby alleyway caught the attention of the frantic teacher.
“Oh no…” She ran towards flash, hoping that the sudden light was not her student getting akumatized. She hoped she wasn’t too late.
“Lila?” She called out as she entered the small entryway. Her worried expression shifted to horror when she had found herself face to face with an akuma.
“So Sorry Miss Bustier, you just missed her.” The voice taunted with cynical glee.
The akumatized individual that stood in front of her had a crown like mask that transitioned from white to black as it covered the top of her face. Her brown hair slowly shifted whit as it reached the ends of her hair. Her eyes glowing with an ethereal white light, showing her fury. Her outfit was reminiscent of a costume in a high-end stage production, adorned with various masks, each showing different emotions and alternating in black and white color scheme. Her right hand was wearing a snow-white glove with her charm bracelet over it. Her legs had long white stockings which she wore long gray boots that reached up past her knees. Each boot had a small mask expressing a different emotion and covered her knees as if they were knee pads. The last and most mesmerizing detail was the gaseous monstrosity that stood behind her, it having a glowing mask with a mouth that moved.
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(AN: Congrats again to @Bevvydraws for this amazing design and winning the contest)
“Lila… don’t move. We can fix this. We will get Ladybug and Chat noir here, then we can start to work with the school and…”
“Not this time. I have tried to handle things the civil way.” The akumatized Lila chuckled. “That was how Lila would handle things, with pretty words and half-baked apologies. You always assumed the best in people Miss Bustier, and that is why your students always got akumatized, because you couldn’t see how awful they all are, how awful everyone is!”
Lila had noticed her charm bracelet was glowing. It was telling her that Miss Bustier has been turned into an akuma. But that wasn’t all, it was if she could even read their darkest thoughts as it did. She was looking under the mask that was Caline Bustier.
‘Interesting’ Lila mused to herself.
“You don’t truly believe that. The akuma is warping your perception. I know you are hurting, but you can fight it Lila. You are….”
“I can see it now. You do actually care for your students, but you hate how despite your best efforts, you can’t control them to be the vision of them you see. Chloé is the biggest failure to you.”
“What?! No! Chloé has been a bit slow in progressing but she is becoming a better person.”
“You hate how much influence she has in the school thanks to her father being the mayor. The staff has to remind you how carefully you have to tread when dealing with her. When she was going to leave for New York some time ago, you were as happy as everyone else and you hated yourself over it.”
Caline could feel her spirit breaking as she said that. She was right, she did hate that she felt happy about Chloé leaving, she did despise the amount of influence that student had. Sure she understood that she couldn’t control everything, but it felt so much worse when she felt she couldn’t do anything to help her students excel and be the best they can be.
A mask launched from Lila’s dress and hit Miss Bustier dead center. The teacher fell to the floor as her screams were muffled, trying to fight the mask that had launched itself onto her face. She tried to pull the mask off with her hands but it only seemed more stubborn to stay put.
“I am Masquerade, the one who will reveal the farce that is Paris, just like how I removed your mask.”
The teacher’s struggles began to lessen as the mask began taking control.
“This world is a stage where everyone acts to please others, to get what they want, to pretend to be happy. I am going to destroy all of that nonsense. You wore your mask so well that you forgot you even had one on. You were so easily fooled, but now your true self will come to the surface. The evil that lies in your heart has a new face. Now let’s see how this new mask fits you and how well it will serve me.”
The mask began to glow and in an instant, Miss Bustier had reverted into the paler, akumatized version of herself, Zombiezou. The only difference being the white mask that covered her face as opposed to the eye mask  she wore in the past.
“Isn’t that Right Zombizou?”
“What is your bidding?” Zombizou inquired with an emotionless tone.
Masquerade smiled as she snapped her fingers. The masked monster behind her moved in front of her.
“Simulare!  Shift and transform into Volpina!”
The gaseous masked creature began morphing into Lila’s first Akuma transformation, the faux Fox heroine, Volpina. The Sentimonster perfectly replicated the form.
A purple butterfly outline appeared over Masquerade’s face.
“Looks like you have quite the handle on your new powers” a sinister voice said with glee. “Now what do you have planned to deal with Ladybug and Chat noir.”
Masquerade smiled.
“Just you watch Hawkmoth, this will be one show you won’t want to miss.”
“I am looking forward to it.”
She cracked her knuckles and prepared her order.
“Now, Have Zombizou reprise her role as Miss Bustier, and help me look like my former self.
Simulare nodded and activated her powers, transforming the two to look like their former selves.
“Excellent work Simulare, now stay close by and maintain the illusion until we get back into the school”
“Come, we must return to the Principal.” a sinister smile on Lila’s face.
_______________________________________________________________________
There was a lot to talk about in Miss Bustier’s class. They had a lot of revelations thrown their way in a matter of minutes. Rose was Gushing to Mylene and Juleka about Marinette and Adrien dating, Max was busy helping Kim and Ivan process what happened with Lila. Alix and Nathaniel were discussing if Lila was the one trying to frame Marinette for that whole chair debacle with Chloé.
Marinette decided this was all too much and just moved to her seat to sit down. This was a lot to process. Lila had finally been exposed. Everyone knew the truth! She was also dating Adrien, and the class found out about that, it all felt so overwhelming.
She noticed someone sit beside her, her blond model boy who also had a similar expression on his face.
“I am guessing we are both feeling the same thing.” Marinette commented.
“A mixture of shock, relief, nervous and excited?” Adrien responded.
“That pretty much sums it up.”
The two sat in silence for a moment. Marinette subconsciously touched his hand. They both interlocked their fingers as they let the events wash over them.
But the moment they were sharing was ended when Nino and Alya sat in the desks in front of them and turned around to face them
“I guess the date went well.” Alya rhetorically asked with a knowing smirk.
The two new love birds felt their faces heat up.
“No need to answer dude. We can read it from your faces.” Nino chimed in.
“We weren’t this bad when you two got together.” Adrien fired back.
“True, but we weren’t as bubbly and blushy as you two are right now.” Nino countered.
“Daww Mari, you look like a cherry.” Alya teased.
“Alright enough. We get it, we are adorable.” Marinette gestured to herself and Adrien. “I am curious on how you exposed Lila.”
Alya’s cutesy teasing smile shifted to her knowing smirk.
“Well if you must know, it all started with that recording you asked me to hold on to.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alya began to paint the scene with her take on everything that happened.
(Cue chalkboard illustration explaining Alya’s elaborate plan with her standing in front of it)
“After Curiosity got the better of me while I was home. I played the recording.”
Chalk Alya showing a shocked expression
“I was absolutely shocked to hear everything on there. If I didn’t hear it myself and it didn’t come from such a reliable source, I would swear it was a fake. But it was right here.”
Chalk Alya’s expression turned to rage as the recording kept going. The chalk caricature stomping on the ground and steam coming out of her ears
“I was furious! I had been blatantly lied to and the worst thing was that this Liar was hurting my best friend. I could not let it slide.”
“So, I ran to Nino’s place and showed him what was up”
Chalk Alya clearly steamed and now starting to explain to chalk Nino who is also mad. Chalk Nino listening with shock at this.
“We knew we couldn’t let that stand. But we did get briefly distracted with that whole crazy Knights thing. So that delayed us for a bit.”
Cue comedic bits of Nino and Alya hiding in a dumpster while knights walked past.
“After that whole situation had cleared up, we started doing some serious digging on Lila back at my place.”
“We talked with some of Lila’s old classmates, friends, school teachers, anyone we could find from the places and people she mentioned. We needed to make sure we got as much information about this girl as possible.”
illustration of Chalk Alya emailing different people of varying looks. All sending responses back.
“And we found out some more shady stuff about her, it was crazy. It was like we didn’t even scratch the surface of how bad this was.”
“But to really confirm some of the more outlandish stuff, we needed to reach out for help. So, we brought in Max.”
Chalk Alya and Nino heading to Max’s place where it shows him talking with Chalk Markov.
“We asked him to check a few things which he was a bit nervous about doing but we managed to convince him. The stuff we did find was a massive leap forward in our little investigation of Lila.”
Show Chalk max hacking and reveal shocking info.  And then waking up sleeping Alya and Nino.
“After that, Nino and I decided to do a last bit of information gathering at school, just to make sure we had a strong enough case to ensure she could weasel her way around it.”
Chalk Alya and Nino tiptoeing through the halls trying to be stealthy. With little flashlights
“That was where we found the security camera footage.”
“And after all that was gathered, it was all about making sure everyone got the truth.
Show the class, the teachers, and all of the school getting the information about Lila.
(The chalk illustration ends and goes back to reality)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And then you pretty much saw everything else that happened.” Alya finished
Adrien and Marinette processed the explanation.
“Wow, that is something. You guys really pulled out all the stops for it.” Adrien commented.
“Well my dudes, she was messing with our friends, we couldn’t just let her do that. You two both knew that she was sketchy. Now the school knows, and possibly all of Paris because of the Ladyblog.”
A chill goes down Marinette’s spine. The baker’s daughter had a disturbing realization. What if Lila did get akumatized?
__________________________________________________________________________
Mrs. Rossi sat down.
The principal did his best to try and ease the disheartened parent.
“There is more to that recording than what we listened to?” The mother of Lila questioned, her voice trying to stay steady.
“Another 40 minutes yes.”
“And it is just as bad as what we have just heard?”
“I haven’t listened to the entire recording, but based on everything I would say that it is a high possibility.”
“I… I can’t believe my daughter is the girl on this recording. There must be some sort of mistake.”
Mr. Damocles could see that the poor woman was on the brink of tears. She was doing her best to stay strong. She wanted to believe her daughter was not capable of the horrible things the documents and the recording were saying. He couldn’t imagine the amount of torment she was going through.
The older gentleman was no stranger to dealing out discipline to bad students, but this was the first time he had seen such a distraught mother over finding out the actions of her child. He couldn’t blame the woman for her feelings, Lila was indeed quite the charismatic actor. He and her teachers were easily charmed by her demeanor. One would not suspect any malicious intent from her in the slightest. It made the discovery all the more shocking and now, all the more heartbreaking.
“I need to talk with my daughter about all of this.”
“As would I Miss Rossi, we do try to give all our students a chance to explain themselves.”
Mostly because too many parents complain when we don’t do that and that is its own PR nightmare that Dupont does not need to deal with.
“I know that my daughter is a good girl. There must be a reasonable explanation.”
The door to the office opens.
The two adults turn to watch a much calmer Lila walk in with the red head teacher.
Miss bustier remains quiet and stands by the door. Her face was unreadable.
“Lila! There you are.” Miss Rossi got up from her chair, her worry apparent in her voice.  
“There are a lot of accusations being thrown at you and I have no idea why. You need to tell them it isn’t true. Please tell them that this is all a huge mistake”
“It’s alright mamma.” Lila assures her mother. “I will take care of everything.”
Mrs. Rossi felt herself calm at her daughter’s assurance. She should have known not to get so worked up. She sat back down and watched as her daughter sauntered to the desk of the principal
“Everything that you have read and heard from those documents is accurate. I did do all of those terrible things. I am 100% at fault.”
Principal Damocles blinked at the statement.
“I’m sorry Lila, are you… confirming everything in here?”
“That’s right.”
“Mia stellina, please tell me this is a bad joke. A silly prank of sorts?”
“Nope, it’s all factual. I did do those things, I did threaten Marinette, I did fake those illnesses, I did skip school for a few weeks because I didn’t want to go. But you know what else is true, Mr.Damocles?”
The bracelet on Lila began to glow.
“What else is there?”
“You have been lying to yourself. Trying to act like an arbiter of right. You act like you are this no-nonsense principal that cares for the school and its students. But that isn’t true at all.”
“I beg your pardon! I do care about this school. That is why I have no choice but to…”
“I wasn’t done speaking.” Lila’s comment sent a shiver down the principal’s spine. Something was very wrong with Lila, and he couldn’t tell what.
“Now, where was I? Oh yes. The truth. The truth is that you dream of being a hero like the ones in your precious comic book. But you know you’re too old and pathetic to do any real hero work. You loved the idea of Ladybug and Chat noir, bringing those fantasies you had to reality only to slowly loathe them because they are young and can make the difference that you never could.”
Her words cut sharply into the bald principal. It was as if she knew the exact words to cut him down.
“But now that I broke through your pathetic façade, I have a new mask for you.”
Out of nowhere a mask seems to appear on Lila’s hand and she sent it flying onto the older man’s face, causing him to fall over. He struggles to try and get the mask off but the mask only seems to fighting harder to stay on.
The diplomat found herself paralyzed with shock at the situation. She was trying to process what was happening, but she couldn’t. Did her daughter just attack the principal?
Lila turned her attention to her mother. The mirage that was keeping her looking like her civilian self, faded away revealing her akumatized form.
“Now Mamma, you don’t need to worry. I have everything under control.”
“You… you aren’t my daughter.”
Masquerade took a moment before laughing darkly.
Suddenly from behind the desk stood the fallen Principal but his outfit had changed. His portly stature was now toned and muscular. His clothes were replaced with that of hero spandex. He had transformed into his former akumatized persona, Dark Owl.
“You act like you actually knew me. You know how much I love masks, yet you failed to realize I was always wearing one around you.”
Dark Owl went into his Utility belt and handed Masquerade a spray.
“Don’t worry Mamma, I won’t hurt you.”
Mrs.Rossi wanted to protest but her akumatized daughter used the spray she was given on her and felt everything fade to black.
“Put her somewhere safe. We move to the next phase.”
Dark Owl Nodded as he picked up the unconscious woman.
Masquerade’s expression softened as she looked at her mother.
“Trust me Mamma, once this is over, you will see how amazing your daughter truly is.”
The akumatized Villain cupped her earring.
“Simulare. Keep the mirage on Bustier, and have her move to the classroom once our two guests arrive.”
She smiled again as she noticed Dark Owl had finished putting her mother somewhere.
“Alright Dark Owl, I need you to make an announcement.”
__________________________________________________________________________
“Do you think Lila might get akumatized from this?” Marinette spoke aloud.
The three-other teens understood why Marinette was suddenly stiff.
“I am just going to put on the Ladyblog to be wary of a potential Akuma attack. Just to be safe. Maybe Ladybug and Chat noir will see it and take out the akuma before it gets to Lila”  Alya started frantically typing.
Marinette stood up from her desk.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom. I need to…”
“Attention students!”
The voice from the loudspeaker caught everyone’s attention.
“Alya Cesaire and Marinette Dupain Cheng. Both of you will need to come to my office immediately.”
Alya and Marinette look at each other, something seemed very off about this announcement. Normally the loud speaker wasn’t used for such direct announcements. Normally just to announce the school lunches or events. Most of the time Principal Damocles would just go classroom to classroom to do it. It seemed odd that he would use it now.
Alya stood up.
“This probably has to do with Lila. I did use your recording. I guess they want to get both sides of the story.” Alya commented.
“Do you need me to tag along? I did help you with some of the evidence gathering.” Nino inquired, sort of worried for his girlfriend.
“No worries. I think I can handle it. Besides, he only called Mari and I down.”
Alya started moving to the classroom door.
“Come on girl, we have one last thing to take care of.”
Marinette got up from her desk nervously.
“Don’t worry Marinette, whatever happens, I have your back.” Adrien assured.
Marinette gives the boy a soft smile.
She gives him a super quick peck on the cheek before running to Alya at the door.
Adrien cups his cheek and smiles.
“Dude, you are so love sick.” Nino commented.
“You are even worse than me, so don’t even.” Adrien fired back.
“I ain't dissing, I am just saying welcome to the club.” Nino laughed.
Adrien chuckled a bit. He did like this feeling. But he still couldn’t help but worry, Lila was crafty. What if she was up to something?
“Hey, I am just gonna go check my locker, I think I left my science homework in there.” Adrien explained as he got up from the desk. He moved slightly and noticed his shoe hit something.
“What are these screws doing here?”
Adrien checked to make sure Marinette’s seat wasn’t loose and was relieved when it was sturdy.
“Oh that probably has to do with Chloé’s seat breaking. I’ll take em” Nino commented.
Adrien decided he would deal with that later. He figured it would likely be best to confirm that gut feeling he had.
______________________________________________________________________________
“Things are going better than I anticipated.” The silver masked villain exclaimed with glee.
“Masquerade has infiltrated that school which houses several of my previously made akuma. Ladybug and Chat noir will have to face an army by the time they realize what is happening.”
“Sir, you do remember your son is in that building. Is it wise for us to leave him in there?” The blue clad villainess commented.
“My son has never been akumatized, besides. Lila has no interest in hurting Adrien. Unlike the last akuma, there will be no personal stakes.” Hawkmoth assured.
“You do remember that she mentioned wanting revenge against Marinette and that Ladyblogger.”
“That is of little concern.”
“The first one being the girl that your son is in love with.”
Hawkmoth paused for a moment.
“That shouldn’t matter. Adrien will get over it once we have the miraculous and bring back …”
“So, you believe Adrien wont risk fighting the akuma to protect her.”
Hawkmoth’s assurance began to melt at the realization that his son did share a rather glaring flaw. The will to jump into danger without a single thought of self-preservation in order to save the one they love. That could be trouble.
“Nathalie, we may need to get involved.”
Nathalie had dropped her transformation.
“I will head to the school and get Adrien out of there.”
“Take his bodyguard and be quick about it. Masquerade will have that building overrun with akumatized servants shortly.”
Nathalie nodded, she did feel faint for a moment but fought through it. Now was not the time to get weak. Adrien needed to be taken to safety.
______________________________________________________________________
Marinette and Alya made it to the office where Miss Bustier was outside.
“Hey Miss Bustier, is everything alright?” Alya questioned, noticing the expressionless face of their usually peppier teacher.
The red headed teacher said nothing as she gestured to the door.
“Umm… okay.” Alya took the door knob in her hand and opened the door.
Marinette took a moment to study the teacher. Something was very wrong here. She watched as the teacher began to walk towards the classroom they had just come from. She could swear she saw something flicker.
“Come on Marinette.” Alya insisted. The French-Chinese teen decided it must have been her eyes playing tricks on her and went into the office.
They entered the office and noticed that Mr.Damocles’s chair was turned away from them.
“You wanted to see us Principal Damocles?” Alya spoke up.
“No, he didn’t.” A familiar voice from behind the chair spoke.
“Lila!” Marinette exclaimed.
“Well aren’t you a detective, though you are sadly incorrect. I was Lila.”
“Was? Wait… don’t tell me…” Alya began to figure it out.
The office chair turned to reveal the akumatized Lila smiling.
“It’s Masquerade now. I really must say Alya I am quite amazed by all the work you did.”
The two teens glared at the villainess as she stood from the chair.
“This was the first time in my life that I had been so thoroughly backed into a corner. I had no way of dismissing the evidence, I was at your mercy. Truly, I am impressed.”
Alya did not know how to react to Masquerade’s rather out of nowhere praise for busting her.
“You’re praising me?”
“The old me would have had a breakdown, probably end up on the ground crying in frustration, unable to get my way. I was without a doubt destroyed.”
Marinette and Alya looked at each other in confusion.
“Why are you telling us this?” Alya questioned.
“Because anywhere else, I would have just given in. I would have resigned myself to my despair. But we are in Paris, a place with an emotion manipulating super terrorist with the power to weaponize my negative emotions.”
Marinette’s eyes went wide. She understood what Lila was saying.
“You weaponized your emotions.”
The akumatized villain started to laugh.
“I am glad you understand the situation.” Masquerade snapped her fingers.
From the shadows emerged a familiar owl themed akuma, Dark Owl. The only new addition to his ensemble was the white mask that covered his face, making his emotions unreadable.
“Dark Owl, Restrain Marinette!”
Dark Owl went to grab Marinette, but the teen quickly jumped to avoid the akuma’s grasp.
“Don’t worry girl I got you!”
Alya went to grab the nearby chair to throw it at the akuma, but Masquerade quickly moved across the desk and grabbed Alya’s shoulders as the charm bracelet began to glow.
“Oh Alya, you value truth among everything else, yet you are so dishonest with yourself. You always love to throw yourself into your passions, not giving a damn on who gets involved or who gets hurt. You put your theories and ideas above everyone else’s because you are so sure that you are right even when you aren’t. You hate how vulnerable you are when you are wrong.”
“Let go! You don’t know me!” Alya shouted as she tried to escape Masquerade’s grip on her shoulder.
Marinette had avoided a tackle made by the owl themed akuma and left him head first into an office plant.
“Don’t listen to her Alya! She is trying to turn you into an akuma like what she did to Mr.Damocles!”
“You know I am speaking the truth, your little mask of confidence is meant to hide the insecurity of a middle child that wants validation and acceptance because they never truly felt like they had their own identity. You fight so hard for everything and fear that it will be for nothing. You hate being left out of the loop and have trouble accepting when things happen that you aren’t a part of.”
“Stop it!” Alya pleaded. She could feel this akuma Lila’s words cutting her deep. This couldn’t be the truth, right?
“I can see the secrets you try and hide. I am bringing it all to the surface. You also secretly feel that Nino going after you when he was originally after your best friend makes you feel like a rebound and you hate that you feel this way.”
That was the last cut Masquerade needed, the look of hurt in Alya’s eyes was the proof.
Masquerade took a mask from her dress and placed it on Alya. The Ladyblogger dropped to the floor and tried to fight the mask that covered her face.
“Alya!” Marinette cried out in horror.
Masquerade turned to Marinette with a devilish grin.
“I warned you Marinette. I would turn everyone against you if you messed with me. And I intend to keep that promise.”
_______________________________________________________________________
So Ends part 31.
Will Masquerade’s revenge go unabated?
Will Nathalie make it in time to get to Adrien?
Will Marinette be able to escape and bring an end to Lila’s Masquerade ball?
Will I stop asking questions?
Find out all of these things and more next part.
Please comment your thoughts on the chapter and reblog.
Its tough writing on Tumblr and seeing the support really does motivate me to keep going.
Also, as for the mass amounts of tagging. I honestly won't be doing it anymore due to the f*** ton of effort it takes only for some to not work. 
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lunarianillusion · 3 years
Text
A change in fate
a maribat fanfic
Chapter 09
When the final school bell of the day finally rang Marinette and her pack practically bolted from the building, before the braindead could catch them. When outside she told the others to go on ahead without out her, telling them she would meet them back at the hotel, and that she had to quickly grab something from her room. Chloe was a bit hesitant since the toxic shepherd and her herd were still lurking, but Marinette reassured her as best as she could making her lead the other three away.
The omega made quick work of avoiding her parents, not caring for what they possibly could have said in her migraine induced morning, and up to her room. After slipping in through the trap door the hidden kwami’s all came out of hiding. All very happy to see that the young guardian had recovered from the past morning.
The omega smiled softly at the little gods that cared for her wellbeing. She was truly happy to have found away to release the kwami’s from the box confines. Giving them a small piece of freedom, they needed. She hoped to give them true freedom one day, but for now they needed to focus.
“It is time for step two,” The noirette said, gaining the complete attention from all the little gods. Then they turned to one and other a silent conversation among the concepts of the world and gave each other a firm nod of agreement. “We are all ready to proceed young guardian,” Longg spoke firmly with the slightest hint of longing. She could tell and could not blame him for wishing to meet with his possible soul bearer, but she could not trust the dragon’s soul bearer just yet.
The guardian’s blue eyes turned to onto the light turquoise kwami nearby. “Are you ready?” The snake gave her a small grin. “I am.” “You better take good care of her, understood,” Pollen buzzed while giving Sass a fireless glare. To which he chuckled in return and gave his fellow god words of assurance, as Marinette grabbed the small box holding his miraculous.
-
After procuring the miraculous of change, along a thick binder filled with Lie-la’s inconsistencies and fever dreams, the omega hero made her way over the grand hotel. Upon arrival Marinette encountered Chloe’s loyal butler. He informed her that monsieur Bourgeois was in search of his daughter and so advised the dark-haired girl to take the long route to the nest. As to not alert the dumb mayor that Chloe now has taking more of a residence in her secret room.
Over the time that Chloe has used opportunity to redeem herself to others, she had become aware of how toxic her family was and had been distancing from her parents whenever she needed room to breathe. The staff had been happy to provide her with a special place for the blond within the hotel. One of the rooms had been modeled into a one room apartment specially decorated for the young alpha and kept off the books so that her father would not find it. When they showed her the room Chloe had burst into a sea of overjoyed tears, having been giving confirmation that she was indeed became a better person in the eyes of others. That had been such a relief for the girl and a great boost to her confidence.
Giving the beta butler her thanks, the omega made the long round way to Chloe’s second room that gained the title of the nest over the past months. Upon arrival and entry, the blue-eyed omega was met with the homely interior of the apartment, that made it feel as though you just walked into a hunter’s cabin in the mountains. To the right was the sitting/living area with a large half circle couch and two armchairs standing around a round red wood coffee table. A large flat screen tv hung from the wall infront of the sitting area, with several drawers under it filled with the girls collection of DVDs and blue ray’s. To the left was the kitchen area with a wooden bar counter that separated the kitchen from the hall and living area, around it stood four wooden fashionably cushioned barstools. In the back, past the doors that led to the bathroom and workspace, was a window seat bed that had been transformed into a large nest. Made from a mismatch of blankets, pillows and some articles of close from the two female occupants. A large deep dark red canopy hung from the ceiling that gave the two a feeling of a save close offed space, for whenever the one of the two took shelter here for the rut or heat.
The smile on Marinette’s face came naturally as she past the rooms threshold. This was a place of safety for her, something that her old home could never again be. How she often wished she could live here but her ‘parents’ would kick up a fuss and she really did not need the extra headache’s.
Her eyes drifted around counting all of the current occupants in the den. Nathaniel and Marc sat snuggled together upon de couch, enthusiastically discussing their new comic idea, Chloe was in the back near the nest looking for something in one of the large bookcases lining the wall and Tim was in the kitchen making the holy elixir, COFFEE. “Can you make me a cup too, Tim,” the female omega called out gaining her packs attention. Though Chloe was the only one that gave a verbal response in the form of a pained groan and calling her an addict. She ignored her friend in favour of focussing on the steaming cup of coffee that the dark haired prepared for her. She gave him a grateful smile and a small thanks as she took a seat at the kitchen counter and dropped her thick binder with a thud onto the wooden surface.
She took a careful sip from her given ambrosia and then pulled on her business face. “So now that we have all gathered, shall we get started on the downfall of the delusional spider and her plague of insects.” The crystal blue eyes glanced around the room once more and taking in the malicious smiles of her pack. “Oh yes, let’s get started,” the blond female nearly cackled as she pulled out to binders of her own. Yes, they were ready for the hunt.
-
And so started of several hours of compiling all the tall tales that had past Rossi’s lips from the lady blog, their phones and school camera’s, curtesy of Tim’s hacking skills. But as people will agree after a certain amount of time one gets side-tracked, especially if you have a petty alpha female wanting revenge. Surprisingly the two male omegas’ were very much on board with the pettiness.
“But wouldn’t she simply blame Marinette,” Chloe interjected. She and the male omegas having a thorough discussion over how to trick Lie-la into spraying herself with skunk musk. They discussed it for over an hour.
“Not unless she believed it to be a gift for Marinette,” Marc began to supply, making Chloe pull a face. “She would say she was so thankful for the gift while just taking it,” The jade eyed male continued. “But either me or Tim or me would say it was for Mari,” Nathaniel took over, “She in a fit her supposed supremacy will spray herself and then come to the horrid realization of the disgusting odour. This will work in our favour two ways. One Lie-la will smell just as horrid as her soul is,” “And two, because they will think we ‘tried to do this on Mari’ we can get in the flies good graces and here about any possible plots to hurt our leader and prepare for that accordingly.” Marc finished, devious smiles on both his and boyfriend’s faces.
“You two are bloody devils,” The blond alpha started, eyes filled with wondered surprise before beginning to laugh gleefully. “And I love it!” she exclaimed as Marinette and Timothy were just finishing up all the processed evidence that they had gathered. Next time they were going to look into things Lie-la had done before she had come to Dupoit. But for now, it was pack bonding time.
-
“I AM DISCUSTED, I AM REVOLTED, I DEDICATED MY INTIRE LIFE TO THE ARTS AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET!!!!!!” Nathaniel roared as he hurled his sketchbook.
“Nath please cal-”
“NO Marc he is right. They gods have deceived us. COLOUR IS A LIE!!!” Marinette exclaimed as she threw her sketchbook across the room. Whirling around she grabbed the redhead and raised her hand to the window. “OPEN THE WINDOW WE MUST FLY!!!”
“NNNOOOOO!!!!!!!”
-
“Mari, Tim, put the mugs down,”
The two in question raised the offending cups to their lips.
“I swear to the powers from the beyond, don’t you two dare drink that! That is your fifth cup in the past thirty minutes.”
The alpha omega duo took exaggerated sips from their cups, the sound penetrating the air. Within seconds the blond was chasing around her two coffee addicted friends around the room in a made chase screaming profanities every so often. The two coffee worshippers always two steps ahead of the girl with surprising agility, not letting a single drop of the elixir of life spill from their containers. Whilst Nathaniel and Marc watched the chaos from the couch unfold, sharing a bowl of popcorn.
-
After a long chase, that resulted in Chloe’s loss, the pack had nestled themselves on the couch and chairs around the tv. They had some action movie playing and were making all sorts of critics, on the fight scenes mostly. It made for a rather peaceful atmosphere.
Marc and Nathaniel were snuggled together within a wool blanket on one of the large armchairs. Chloe and Marinette had claimed the couch, their heads on opposite ends and legs tangled in the middle.  Tim sat on the other chairs, his legs dangling over the side and hid eyes taking in more the people around him then the movie. Taking in every detail of the scene around him and committing it to memory as his senses were lulled by the peaceful atmosphere, making him feel safe.
-
As the late evening came Marc, Nathaniel and Tim went to their own homes, begrudgingly. Leaving Marinette and Chloe in the nest, for Mari had no interest in returning home for the night. And she also had a mission to fulfil.
The two having just finished the dishes, from the room served meal, sat curled up in the nest/bed area talking about the day events and other random thoughts. When, to Chloe’s surprise the noirette omega took on a far more serios exterior. Her blue eyes calculating and analysing the blond before her and her posture straight as an arrow and rigged. “What’s wrong Marinette?” the alpha asked, using her full first name instead of one of her nicknames.
Taking a small breath, to try and calm her nerves, Marinette spoke: “I need to ask a favor of you Chloe Bourgeois, something of great importance. But I need to know that I can fully trust you with what I am about to ask of you.” The mayor’s daughter opened her mouth to say that ofcourse she could trust her, but the darked haired held up her hand to stop her having not yet finished. “I know that I can trust you with anything that happens in our normal lives, but this is not something that can be considered normal and many things are at risk,” she took a moment to let the gravity of the situation sink in. “So, I need to know that I have your compete loyalty and that you will always have my back trough whatever may come. I need to know that you will not stab me in the back,” the last part had been whispered almost so quietly that Chloe might not have picked it up had she not given the omega her full attention.
The last words that were spoken stung the blond a bit, but she understood the meaning behind them more then anything. For those she had once considered her most trust pack members had turned their back on her for the stupid lies of a filthy leach that now trespassed on their territory. She understood the words very well. But Marinette asking this meant that she trusted Chloe so much that she was about to reveal possibly one of her most precious secrets to her friend. A swell of pride and determination flowed through the alpha as the implications of her request made itself clear in the former bully’s mind. And she swore not to let that trust in her go to waist. Chloe poised herself and stared straight into Marinette’s eyes conveying as much determination as the blond could muster through her gaze and scent.
“Marinette, you have given me so much even after all the years of torment I dragged you trough. You forgave me when I finally got my act together which was already more then I deserved, but you also let me join your pack and supported me as I tried to see what I needed to do to become a better person. You made me realize what I truly needed to be happy and because of that I have finally found who I want to be. I will never be able to fully for all that you have done for me. So, whatever secret you share with me I will take to the grave, whatever deed I must do no-one will lead it back to you. I will have your back in all the fights that are to come,” she took a deep breath, to keep her rage for those who did betray the omega at bay, but gaze filled with determination. “I swear I will never betray you for as long as I breath. That I assure you,” Chloe finished.
Marinette could feel her eyes tearing up, but she forced herself not to let any of the tears fall. No was not the time for tears. Even so, the words and emotion that the blond had expressed made Mari so happy and it took away all of her doubt. For no lie was uttered and the absolute devotion coming from her alpha friend sealed that fact.
Carefully she pulled out a dark octagon box with a red sigil painted on the lid. A box the omega knew Chloe recognised. She smiled at the wide eyes she got from her friend before dawning her hero persona. “Chloe Bourgeois this is the miraculous of the snake, that will grant you the power of change. I, Marinette Dupain-Cheng former hero known as Ladybug, current true holder of peafowl and guardian of the miraculous ask you to join me in the fight to end the terror of Hawkmoth. Will you accept?”
A long tense moment of silence followed after the proposition was finally spoken. Both party’s staring intently at the other, their minds whirling with uncoordinated thoughts and question, as fate awaited an answer.
Hesitantly Chloe broke the silence not with an answer to the question, but with a question of her own. “Am I worthy of a miraculous?” Her self-doubt shining through in the quiver of her voice.
Marinette’s demeaner softened at her friend a surge of reassurance washed over the omega, she made the right choice. “Yes Chloe, you are most definitely worthy of a miraculous,” Marinette assured, but could see that the blond was not fully convinced. “You said it yourself, you have taken the road to better yourself in both in your own eyes and the eyes of others. I and many others have been beside you watching you take that rocky road head on and witnessed the fruit it bore. From all the people you helped with charities and donations, from the kids in the hospital that smile so brightly every time you come to visit, form Trevor and Miranda who practically see you as their own daughter, from our friends that would come running at slightest of whispers of you being in danger. I assure you that you are worthy to wield a miraculous. So will you stand beside me as my partner and friend through the coming battles?”
As the finale words sunk in, Chloe felt her resolve strengthen. Whipping away the tears that had gathered in her eyes she gave her friend another look of determination, as she took the small box from Paris’s true hero hand. “I would be honoured,” the blond spoke receiving a grateful smile from the noirette in return.  
Opening the box, a turquoise glowing orb circled around the alpha, making her reminisce of her first meeting with Pollen, before the orb took on the form of a snake like being. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Chloe. I am Sass, the kwami of change,” the snake kwami spoke. “The feeling is mutual,” Chloe replied sincerely as she took the miraculous from its confines and placed it around her wrist. The band camouflaging the moment it was clipped on. The twisting turquoise band turning into a single rose gold band with two swirls circling a sapphire rose with a few clear diamonds. As the miraculous settled the new kwami and wielder pair turned to the young guardian with Duusu now floating beside the omega.
“I will have you know that I have many questions for Dupain-Cheng,” the female alpha said without any heat behind her glare. Making Marinette give a small at her friend. “I would not expect anything less from you,” Mari sighed light heartily, before she turned a bit more serious once more. “But let me first tell you the full extend of what has been going on.”
Author note: This chapter was honestly hard to write, with the heart to heart between Chloe and Marinette being an especially hard point, but I hope you could still enjoy the chapter it and please tell me what you think of the story so far.
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bonniebelleklyde · 3 years
Text
A Storm to Weather
Word Count: 1549
Pairing: Loceit (romantic)
Summary: An unanticipated thunderstorm leaves Logan shaken for reasons he is not quite willing to admit.
Logan made a point of checking the weather every morning. It was simple enough—there was a function on his watch that told him everything he needed to know in a matter of seconds. It was for purely functional purposes, of course. Thomas relied on Logan for nearly every practical detail of his life. Logan checked the weather every day so that he could plan accordingly. He could relay information about appropriate foot and outerwear to Roman before the creative side took over in terms of…what was it, fashion? He knew when sunscreen might be required and how strong that sunscreen should be. He knew whether Thomas should take an umbrella with him when he left the house. He knew when extra layers of clothing might be wise. He knew what he needed to in order to effectively carry out his function.
For that reason, and for that reason alone, Logan was…unnerved…on this particular evening when his watch had failed him completely. There had been no warning—not even the slightest mention of rain, let alone the gargantuan thunderstorm that was now raging outside. Outside, where Thomas was standing in the middle of the sidewalk without a raincoat, umbrella or proper footwear, over a mile from home.
Logan had thought the day’s activities had finished—had kept only a casual eye on Thomas’s walk home and focused more on the book he was reading than on what was happening outside the mind. He had curled up in an armchair by the fireplace in the living room, content to spend the remainder of his waking hours there when a crash of thunder caused him to jump so violently he nearly fell to floor, and a faint yelp escaped his throat. He cursed under his breath and steadfastly ignored his trembling fingers as they fumbled with the corner of the page he’d meant to turn. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, willing his pulse to slow to a normal pace. A fruitless endeavor, as the next thunderclap set it racing again.
He had failed in his responsibilities to Thomas—that was why he was in such distress. Thomas was caught in what must have been heavy rain in this godforsaken thunderstorm, and he was thoroughly unprepared. Logan trembled like a leaf because the unpredictability of the weather had gotten in the way of his job. There could be no other logical reason. There was no other reason.
It would have been far easier to go on believing as much if deceit himself did not suddenly enter the room. Janus rose up directly in front of Logan’s armchair, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity. The deceitful side regarded him silently for a moment, and it did not escape Logan’s notice that the other’s eyes lingered on his shaking hands.
“Interesting,” Janus said so softly that Logan surmised he meant to speak only to himself.
“What?” he asked regardless, his own curiosity winning out over politeness. “What’s interesting?”
“That you’re alone.”
Logan cocked his head to one side in confusion over that. “There’s nothing interesting in my being alone—it happens often enough, even intentionally. Roman has gone so far as to accuse me of being a recluse.”
Janus chuckled softly and shook his head.
“Not in general. Now. It’s not very often that I’m involuntarily summoned by any of you anymore, and I can’t remember the last time one of you did so all on your own. You must be telling yourself some rather impressive lies to drag me out of bed.”
Logan bit his lip, unsure how he felt at having been caught out.  
“My apologies,” he said, only slightly mortified as he felt a warmth rise to his cheeks. “I’ll return my focus to my book; that should ward off any thoughts that might disturb you.”
Janus tutted softly with a small grin. “Oh, come now, you’ve woken me up, and now you won’t even tell me what for?”
It was just Logan’s luck that, at that precise moment, another crash of thunder sounded, eliciting a small whimper from the logical side—quiet, but not so quiet that Janus would not have heard it. Janus glanced from Logan to the window and back again, his brow furrowed in confusion before realization apparently dawned on him and his expression softened.
“Thomas is walking home in the storm without any shield from the rain,” Logan offered weakly, desperate to provide an excuse less pathetic than the truth. “It is my job to prepare him for these things, but the weather forecast was incorrect this morning. I am only upset because I had not thought to check it any other point in the day, and now Thomas’s health and safety are at risk.”
“Falsehood.”
The word that Logan had spoken countless times before sounded odd coming from Janus. Odd…but not unpleasant. Janus’s eyes and voice both were kind and gentle as he spoke.
“Thomas is waiting out the storm from the convenience store he found not five minutes after rain started,” the deceitful side continued. “He is perfectly fine, and as diligent as you are, there is no way you hadn’t noticed.”
Logan was silent at Janus’s words, not knowing what to say and not willing to admit the truth. It was a silly, childish, illogical thing—to fear thunder. There was no reason for it. There was absolutely no way for the storm—which after all was occurring in a reality in which Logan did not even exist—to hurt him. Logan knew this.
And yet when the thunder roared again, the knowledge did nothing whatsoever to prevent him from nearly jumping out of his skin.
Janus studied him for a few moments before nodding as if he had come to some kind of decision. Janus then seated himself on the couch across from Logan’s chair and patted lightly at the spot next to him, evidently gesturing for Logan to sit next to him.
“Well, I’m awake now in any regard. You may as well entertain me.”
Logan smirked tentatively at that, grateful that Janus had decided not to push the subject further, and perhaps even more grateful that Janus had decided to stay. He stood on frustratingly shaking legs and barely managed to stay upright for the three strides it took him to reach the couch. He sat down beside Janus and stared at the now closed book in his lap to avoid eye contact in his embarrassment. If Janus noticed said embarrassment, he made no comment about it.
“What are you reading?” he asked instead.
“A Study in—” Logan jumped again at the sound of another godforsaken thunderclap. “A Study in Scarlet.”
Was it still the thunder that was causing Logan’s heart to race at such an alarming pace, or was it the unexpected feeling of Janus’s arm draped over his shoulders? More than likely, it was a combination of the two. Out of the corner of Logan’s eye, he saw that Janus now had a small, peculiar sort of smile on his face. The deceitful side gave no other sign that he noticed Logan’s ridiculous fear—he only gave Logan’s shoulder a light squeeze and hummed in acknowledgment of what he’d said.
“Mmm, Sherlock Holmes again. Back at the beginning now, are you? What is that, the fifth time you’ve read them all?”
“The seventeenth,” Logan admitted a bit sheepishly, but when Janus laughed the sound was more fond than mocking.
“The seventeenth. Of course. One would think you’d have them memorized by now.”
The truth of the matter was that Logan essentially did have them memorized by now. He absently stroked the spine of the book and shrugged.
“They’re…a comfort, I suppose.”
Janus made a noise that Logan couldn’t quite place. He glanced at the other’s face only to see that odd, gentle smile there once again.
“Read it to me?” Janus requested in a low voice that was almost a whisper.
Logan smiled in spite of himself, privately thrilled at the prospect of reading one of his favorite stories out loud to a captive audience. It was so very difficult to be heard these days. He nodded and cleared his throat before starting to read.
Janus was an ideal audience for this endeavor, Logan found himself thinking. The deceitful side was fully attentive and engaged and…warm. Admittedly, that last characteristic was not strictly necessary for an audience to have, but it was…nice…all the same.
Logan was jolted from his thoughts each time the thunder sounded, and each time, Janus would inch a bit closer and, without prompting, gently remove the book from Logan’s hands and take over reading until Logan had calmed himself enough to take it back. After roughly two hours of this, Logan made a conscious decision not to take the book back from Janus, instead electing to lie down with his head in the other’s lap, letting Janus’s voice wash over him as his eyes drifted closed.
In the morning, Logan would wake with his head still resting in Janus’s lap and an ungloved hand tangled in his hair. He would wake with a peculiar feeling in his chest and an irresistible urge to reach for another hand to hold gently in his own. Logan would wake feeling perfectly content, the roar of thunder quite far from his mind indeed.
In fact, there was a small, irrational part of Logan that was rather looking forward to the next storm. As it had turned out, they were not altogether impossible to weather.
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danger-xylophones · 4 years
Text
Family Reunion Part 10
{masterlist}
Warnings: Have some more angst, my friends. Some character death-as in It happened in the past TPM, some description of pain/injury, a contactless duel, brief mention of suicidal thoughts. 
This got really dark towards the end, I’m sorry. 
Notes I’m so sorry this took so long, I was going through some stuff and this was a real humdinger of an installment to get hung up on. 
Ya’ll need to thank @aberionart for this even getting completed. If not for her art giving me the motivation to attack this beast of a chapter, it wouldn’t have gotten done. Thank you for helping me get out of my writing funk! I always love your art and how positive and supportive you are of everyone! 
PADAWAN WILD
Words: 6.7k
Taglist:@and-claudia // @tararuthven // @aberionart // @noiralei // @pinkiemme // @darthsmol // @zabrak-show // @obi-wan-kanbonemi // @videogamesandpoorlifechoices // @justalittlecloud
<- Previous 
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“Well,” a voice unlike any you’d ever heard before seared over your ears-creating a cold sense of dread that dripped down your spine like ice water. You flicked your eyes open cautiously and raised your head off of Wild’s, simultaneously pulling the young boy closer to you. “What do we have here?” It continued, echoing all around with a low, completely unnatural reverb. You couldn’t help but pick up on the way the owner of the voice pronounced the letter ‘w’-like a ‘v’ instead. It...it was similar to the way Maul used to speak after trying to teach you paecian. It was always so funny to you that speaking in his mother tongue accidentally made him develop a bit of an accent for a little while afterward. Reluctantly, you rose to your feet, keeping Wild close to your front though as your gaze trailed down the ramp to observe Savage standing next to a tall creature clad all in red. They had a high forehead and black tattoos over their face in large blocks and groups. Eventually, you locked eyes with them, e/c staring into piercing, eerie blue. “Ah, you must be padawan L/n.” 
“Mother Talzin, I presume?” You greeted cordially despite the agonizing urge to reach for your sabers and rid the galaxy of the witch. “I am...honored to finally meet you in person. But, if you please, I go by Y/n as I have forgone any affiliation with the Jedi.” 
Mother Talzin hummed, moving unnervingly slow as she bowed her head just enough to acknowledge your confession. The strange tentacle-like pieces of cloth affixed to the back of her cloak followed the movement, slithering in the non-existent wind. “Very well, Y/n.” The Nightmother scanned you in silence after her statement, most likely trying to size you up. You kept your chin raised as you turned to face her more and pushed Wild behind you. Immediately, the witch caught the movement and her eyes zeroed in on Wild. “Ah, and who might this be?” 
You swallowed and let your eyes flicker over to Savage for help but the yellow zabrak could offer none. “This is Wild.” You eventually explained. 
“Your son?” The Nightmother observed though you had the slightest inclination that, though it sounded like a question, it was a statement designed to make you uncomfortable. And it was working. You nodded briefly, tongue darting out to quickly wet your lips-you were getting nervous. Mother Talzin became quiet again, now scanning over Wild who was quietly peeking out from behind you, one hand fisted into the fabric of your tunic and the other itching for one of the sabers on your hip. Evidently, he was as uncomfortable as you were. “He is a fine specimen.” You bristled, stepping to the side to shield Wild from her gaze entirely as your hand landed on your saber. Talzin looked back up at you and spoke with a wry smile, “It is a shame he is a half-blood, he would have made an excellent nightbrother.” 
Over my dead body. You thought bitterly and fixed the witch with the most murderous stare you could muster. Talzin was unfazed by your offense and simply directed her attention to the other red zabrak in the cargo hold-Maul, who had sequestered himself behind boxes once more now much further into the hold. The guilt that followed your realization that he was hiding from you stung more than any blaster bolt would. 
You were pulled from your misery by the sound of the force swirling and converging on one spot, ominous whispers and chants following where it went as a green mist started to fill the cargo hold. Mother Talzin, still stood at the end of the ramp was swirling her hands around a steadily forming glowing green ball of her magic. “Come,” she commanded, her voice taking on a higher reverb, “Let us fix what has been broken.” She calmly released the green ball and it glided over to Maul, bathing the cargo hold in an unsettling yellowish green as it went that had Wild clinging tighter to you as he poked his head around your waist to watch. Your hand fell to his shoulder, wrapping it in a tight grip as you followed the orb with your eyes. “Come to me.” Talzin continued. “Come to me, come to me.” The orb disappeared briefly as it weaved between crates, only trackable by the ominous green glow. “Come to me, lost one, come to me. Follow us, son of Dathomir. Follow me, lost one.Come, child of Dathomir. Follow me.” Talzin urged once more, the whispering and chanting echoing ominously back, till Maul finally began to listen. Originally shying away from the magic, he now followed it-shoving boxes aside and chasing after it like a child enchanted by an odd bug that flitted through the air. 
You started to back up to give Maul more room and encouraged Wild to do the same with a hand on his shoulder. He rolled it and your hand fell away. It felt like someone had stabbed you through the chest. You froze completely, eyes glued to the half-zabrak who didn’t acknowledge you and instead kept his attention fixed on Maul as he followed Mother Talzin and Savage away. 
The hangar fell silent. Neither of you moved. 
You rolled your lips in, anxiously gnawing on them. You had to say something. “Wild…” you began in a soft voice. 
“Don’t.” The word was whispered, barely audible, but it bombarded your ears like a barrage of blaster fire. “Just...don’t.” You had never heard your son sound more defeated. 
“Alright.” You swallowed in an attempt to keep the tremble at bay. “Wild, are you okay?” 
“...Yeah.” He lied and you sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 
Force, you’d messed up. “Okay…” you began slowly, stalling on every syllable that left you, “what do you want?”
“...” Wild shifted but continued to stare at the opposing wall. You could hear the answer he wanted to give as it floated all around you, suspended by the anxieties of the both of you. Force, you’d messed up. The truth. It mocked you. Bouncing off of the walls and around your feet-all emanating from the only other person in the room. The truth, the truth, the truth. “A duel.” 
The reply caught you off guard, Wild’s thoughts and true desires disappeared in an instant which returned the both of you to that deathly still cargo hold once more. “What?” You asked, taken aback. 
Wild finally turned to face you, his little red face set in the most serious expression he could muster. To you it was the perfect cross between Maul’s scowl and your glare and you did not like being on the receiving end of it. That look was meant for strangers that were too nosy for their own good. That look was a defence you had taught him. That look was not supposed to be used against you. “You joked about training earlier and then you asked me what I wanted. Well, I want to duel as part of my training for today.” The young boy asserted with crossed arms. 
You blinked, regarding your son uncertainly. Wild didn’t like to duel because he could never beat you and that always frustrated him and he’d get all huffy and sulk in the farthest place from you. “Alright…” you began. You continued to size Wild up. Your son had a plan and he was determined to box you in, that much you could tell, but what that plan was was unclear. The truth. That was his goal. And suddenly you knew what he was going to do. Both he and yourself knew that you were the most open about Maul when you were preoccupied. So, in theory, if Wild could distract you with a fight he could weasel more information out of you. A good plan but not one you’d go along with. “Here.” You tossed your blue lightsaber to the boy who scrambled to catch it. “Take up position.” You commanded, switching into your teaching voice-the one you had once used on younglings during your tenure as a padawan, the one Ki-Adi had used on you, the one you loathed to use on Wild. Following your own instructions, you ignited your lightsaber, green blade bathing the cargo hold in a complimenting glow, and dipped into a slight crouch. The hilt of the saber twirled elegantly in your hand-a practiced manuever Maul had helped you perfect so you could slip between forward and reverse grips with ease. Wild faltered. Evidently, he had been prepared to argue. But, your son reacted swiftly by correcting his face and mimicking your pose though he kept his saber in front of him pointing up. “I don’t need to repeat the rules-no contact, tap out when you need to, and nothing that could endanger either of our lives. It is crucial to be aware of all that is around you in a duel and a great way to practice is by following the rules laid out during training.” You quickly rambled off the same spiel you always repeated when you and Wild dueled. “If any real injuries occur, we end the duel immediately. Understood?” 
“Understood.” Wild confirmed with a firm nod. 
The game began. You kept your eyes trained on your son and remained still, your only motion the infrequent twirl of your lightsaber as you gave the boy the opportunity to make the first move. He was beginning to look more and more uncertain. Still, he took a step to the right-you took a step to the left. You took another step, he did as well and thus you both began to slowly circle each other. Wild shifted his grip, slipping into the opening stance for Form II and you mimicked him-your own legs taking on a wider stance as you brought your lightsaber slightly off to your side pointing up and held between both hands. Form IV, the form you’d adapted to survive. In your training you had always favored Form V, liking the way it offered both defense and offense, but after meeting Maul you’d started to favor IV. Wild, on the other hand, was a more defensive fighter (probably because he was younger) and he relied heavily on the basics and Form III. But he was nervous-he was vulnerable. And he wasn’t going to make the first move. Noble but potentially dangerous. You moved in. 
You darted forward, lightsaber swinging for his left leg as it was the most exposed. Wild moved quickie and swung his blade down to block it and you fell back. Your son was too careful-too afraid of fighting to chase your strike. It was something you were working on-you’d forgone teaching him IV for now and opted to begin V for him to encourage the introduction of more offensive moves. It was a slow process. 
Spotting another opening on his right, you moved in again. Wild reacted quicker this time and met the strike with enough time and force to push you back. Good. But that left him exposed to a kick to the ribs. You brought your leg up quickly and stopped just before you made contact. “Protect your vitals, Wild.” Was your simple instruction as you moved away before he could retaliate. You were moving quicker now, feinting to the right before swooping in for his left. And Wild was beginning to loosen up-reacting more sharply as he did so. But still, “Wild, loosen up. You’re far too tense for any effective combat.” You corrected with a well aimed poke with your index finger to his kidneys. It was an attack he would’ve been able to block had he spun in time. Wild whirled around to strike at you but you were too quick, already leaping over him to continue mock-striking his sides and other exposed vitals. Wild was growing frustrated. He spun on his heel faster than anything you'd seen from him this whole time and brought the blue lightsaber down. You met the strike. He moved to the right, you matched him. He moved his blade to the left, you twirled yours to meet the strike and pushed him back. A huff slipped from him as he recovered and came at you once more. You blocked it and quickly brought your leg up-attempting to “kick” him in the side again. He took one hand off of his blade to block the strike which was a critical mistake. You spun around swiftly and caught Wild’s blade once more and began to steadily force him to back up. Locked in a stalemate with you steadily placing more of your weight in the strike and Wild perpetually collapsing under it you made your next move carefully. You snapped up, removing your weight with a quick spin of your saber that had Wild’s wrist twisting back uncomfortably. He yelped and dropped the saber. You deactivated yours and stepped away while your son assessed his wrist. “Loosen your grip next time, it will help you maneuver the blade more fluidly which, in turn, will make a move like that much more difficult for your opponent to pull off.” 
Wild muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch, eyes trained on the fallen lightsaber as if he could make it combust with his mind. “Would you like to try again?” There was no verbal response from the young boy. He, instead, bent down and scooped the weapon up again-inspecting it as though he had never seen it before. He was silent for a few more seconds. 
“When can I get my own lightsaber?” He finally asked and met your e/c eyes with his saffron ones. “Yours is too light. It feels like I’m holding nothing.” Too light. You knew Wild didn’t like using your blue saber-while it was the heavier of the two you weilded it was still built to be lightweight like your green one-though it wasn’t a complaint he voiced often. You shifted, your stoic, teaching oriented facade falling away for a moment. Wild was proving to be more and more like Maul as time progressed-he favored brute strength and speed despite being a defensive fighter. With a deep breath in you steadied yourself, mind flitting to the location of the lightsaber you had intended to give him-it would have been perfect for your son despite only being half of his father’s original weapon. You had rebalanced it (your pet project you used to lessen the ache in your chest when Maul’s “death” was a fresh wound). You made sure that the energy dispersion was adequate but the blade still deadly. You’d cleaned it and sealed the bottom up to remove the jagged edge left from when Kenobi sliced your love’s weapon. You’d restored it. But the kyber crystal was removed: taken out to avoid potential injury of you or your son should it decide to malfunction and placed in a hidden compartment in the bottom of your green saber. 
“I told you-once I finish teaching you Form V, we’ll try and sneak onto Illum or somewhere else to find you a kyber crystal.” You informed placidly, keeping your eyes on your son. You filed away the knowledge of Maul’s saber for now. Wild grumbled under his breath again and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Would you like to try again?” You asked once more. He didn’t answer verbally, merely slipped into the opening stance for V this time. With an acknowledging nod, you readied your own weapon. 
Wild struck first this time: darting forward with as much speed as he could muster. Instead of blocking it, you fell back and doubled around to strike at his back. But Wild had learned and fell forward causing you to stumble which gave him time to whirl around. He brought his saber down towards your leg but you blocked it. Instead of backing off like you thought he would, your son continued to press his weight down. “Good, Wild, good.” You commended in as warm a tone you could muster. “But watch your back leg because…” you spun out of the lock and mimicked his earlier strike though you stopped before you made contact. “If I was a real enemy, that would be the first thing to go for.” Wild didn’t acknowledge the instruction. He, instead, launched right into another volley of strikes. “Your wrist, sweetpea, use your wrist instead of your whole arm-it’s faster, more maneuverable, and it doesn’t take as much energy per strike.” You corrected again. There was a muttered complaint under his breath but he did correct his grip. You took the chance to lob your own series of strikes against your son. His blocking was a little sloppy but he had improved since the last time you sparred. 
You were getting bored though. Without warning, you raised a hand and used the force to pull your son off balance. He hit the durasteel with a loud thump, the lightsaber clattering on the floor next to him. Almost immediately, he slammed his hands down and sat up to regard you with the most scathing scowl he could. “That’s cheating!” Wild shrieked at you. 
You tilted your head and shrugged. “Your opponent will do whatever they can to gain the advantage-you must be prepared.” You explained placidly whilst inspecting the hilt of your lightsaber. “Again.” Returning your attention to the half-zabrak, you slipped into your opening stance once more. The young boy sighed exasperatedly and snatched up his fallen weapon. Your son was starting to get frustrated which told you it was almost time to take a break. “Once more and then we’ll stop.” Nothing. “Fair?” A low sigh and the igniting of the blade once more was his reply. This time, you didn’t wait for him to strike. You surged forward, aiming a strike for Wild’s neck at as slow a pace as you could manage. Wild met it and flicked you away but you were quick on the uptake and resumed. Another strike towards his leg, towards his arm, and his hip-each one deflected and reciprocated. Wild was getting better at tapping into V, relying less and less on the purely defensive tactics he always relied on. But, he was getting tired; his strikes were getting sloppy. You weren’t faring much better. A headache had formed-the two epicenters either side your skull. It was strange. There was a bizarre climbing sensation that accompanied it-like two hands clawing up either temple. You were very grateful that you decided this would be the last round as a quick nap seemed to be in order. 
Wild was still on the offensive, attacking with all the strength he had but he was slowing down quick. Again, you raised your hand and pushed him away using the force. The boy sighed low in his throat-the sound bordering on a growl. But, his attacks resumed all the same. You repeated your own actions. “Stop.” The growl was more coherent this time. You both repeated. “I said stop that!” Wild snapped again, diving forward. You furrowed your brows and fell back to avoid the strike entirely. You raised your hand once more and Wild froze mid step, held in place by an invisible grip. 
“Wild, are you alright?” You asked, teacher facade fading entirely as you sheathed your saber and took a step towards him. “We can call it quits if you’d like-!”
“Will you stop that?” Wild yelled and in his anger, he managed to escape your grip. The boy recovered quickly while you were left floundering, trying desperately to understand what was happening. But you weren’t fast enough. Wild set his face in a scowl, his eyes flickering a strange color for just a moment, and raised both of his hands and your back collided with the opposite wall. 
You didn’t know what had happened. One minute, you and Obi Wan were stuck behind ray shields, helplessly watching the ensuing fight between Master Qui-Gon and your love, your husband, Maul, and the next, you were curling over Master Qui-Gon’s body in a fruitless attempt to urge him to cling to life while Obi Wan went for Maul. You knew what Maul was. You knew what he could do. But to see him do it? 
You were trembling, eyes not straying from the two figures locked in combat. You didn’t know what you were feeling but there was a lot of it that caused an anxious swirling cyclone to manifest in the pit of your stomach. One hand curled around your barely formed bump-was that really the father of your child? The one that could kill without thought? No. You told yourself. No, that is not my Maul. That...that is Darth Maul. There was a sudden squeeze of your hand that momentarily distracted you from the fear now slowly consuming you. Qui-Gon was still fighting. 
“Master Qui-Gon!” You exclaimed quietly, returning your attention to the dying man. “Master Qui-Gon, speak to me, please.” You begged the Jedi. Almost painfully, his eyelids fluttered open. 
“O-Obi Wan? Where...where is Obi Wan?” He wheezed and looked around as best he could. 
Tears pricked your eyes as you opened your mouth to answer. “Fighting Maul, maste-” You were cut off-your body suddenly airborne. You flew away from the fallen Jedi’s side until your back collided rather harshly with a durasteel wall on the opposite side of Qui-Gon. Pain ricocheted up your spine at the sensation as your eyes immediately tried to take in your sudden shift in surroundings. Your gaze settled on Maul and Obi Wan, the former stood with his hand outstretched towards you and his lightsaber at his side. There was an unreadable expression on his face that was dominated by concern. Rightfully so, you should think, from having practically flung you across the room. Still, it was clear that he hadn’t meant to launch you into the wall-a minor comfort in contrast to the dawning understanding that you had been so foolish. You were a traitor to your people. You were in love with a Sith. 
“Mom! Mom, please! I-I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-to throw you. I was just, just angry and I don’t know what happened. Mom?” You were brought back to reality by the frantic shaking of your shoulders, the stinging in your lower back, and the throbbing of your head. Not to mention the downright terrified tremor in Wild’s voice. Your eyes flickered open. Panicked saffron met your unfocused e/c. “Mom!” Wild exclaimed and launched forward, arms wrapping around your neck. 
“Sweetpea, what happened?” You kept your voice quiet as you returned your son’s panicked hug. It was a little awkward given your current seating against a box on the floor but you voiced no complaint. 
The boy pulled back and your heart broke at the sight of tears gathering in his eyes. “I-I don’t know! I just...I just got really mad and-and I wanted to...I don’t even know what I wanted and I just was going to push you like you’d been doing but-but...I threw you and you weren’t waking up!” Wild explained in a shaky voice that you could barely understand, chest heaving with barely restrained distress. 
Thinking quickly, you placed one hand on his shoulder and the other went to cup the side of his face. “Hey, look at me.” You commanded in a very soft voice and an imperceptible tug to focus your son on you. “I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” You continued slowly, trying to convey that you weren’t angry or even injured. Sure, your back stung from the impact and it appeared as though it had triggered an unwanted trip back to an unpleasant memory but you knew it wasn’t Wild’s fault. “You did not hurt me, Wild.” You reassured once more whilst maintaining eye contact with the young boy. He sniffled and blinked and the gathered tears finally fell. “It wasn’t your fault, sweetpea.” You continued, now carefully wiping the tears away. Wild now refused to meet your eye but you pressed on. “And I don’t blame you. Accidents happen-I can’t tell you how many times I accidentally shoved your father when we’d spar.” He looked up at that and you sent him a smile, happy to see the curious glint replacing his previous sadness. 
“Really?” He questioned in a tiny voice. You smiled a little wider-you knew you were somewhat playing into his original trap but this felt like a tidbit you could spare to tell. 
“Yeah, he was always trying to teach me how to be more aggressive-in regards to dueling, mind you-and...I may or may not have gotten carried away a few times.” A wistful look darted across your face. “If he were here, he’d be embarrassed about how many trees I launched him into.” 
“Trees?” Wild was brightening up now. 
“Oh yes, we had a special planet we’d meet on-one far out of the Jedi’s range where we could just...be us. For a little while anyways.” You sighed. Us. “It was a beautiful planet, Wild, with lush forests and countless caves filled with glittering jewels. And the most gorgeous waterfalls I’d ever seen.” You could see it now, the planet you hadn’t dared to return to. You’d gone everywhere else alone and with Wild but that damned planet. “We met in the same spot every time-in the clearing where we’d met and we’d go running off to explore...we’d find a lake to spar next to and…” a giggle escaped you at a vague memory of Maul’s first reaction to swimming, “and I’d teach him to swim sometimes too.” 
Wild laughed with you, more so out of shock that reminiscence. “He didn’t know how to swim?” 
You shook your head. “He was from here, Wild. Dathomir’s not known for its swimming holes.” You explained with a comical lift of your eyebrows at the boy. “Anyways, in exchange I guess he’d teach me how to fight like him. And that meant I had to learn how to channel my anger. That meant I accidentally threw him a couple of times. It’s something you’ll learn too and if I must, I will gladly be your test dummy.” Wild huffed a laugh through his nose and you patted his face, pleased to see him calming down. You fell quiet for a moment as you observed the little lift of Wild’s smile and the scrunch of his nose that always followed a laugh. It was your smile on Maul’s face. Wild had Maul’s eye color but your eye shape. Your nose but the slight scrunch Maul would do when he spoke or smiled. He really was the perfect combination of you both even if your attributes were subtler. Wild was determined, intelligent, and protective. He was thoughtful but action-oriented as well. Calculated but not heartless. “Force, you’re so much like him.” You finally broke, not even aware that the thought had escaped you. 
“Like who?” Wild asked with a slight tilt of his head-an action no doubt learned from you. Curiosity seemed to radiate from him but also an underlying keenness that told you he knew exactly who you were referring too. Clever-another one to add to the growing list. 
“Your father, Wild...I...I wish he’d gotten to know you.” 
“Y/n…” Maul seethed, his voice ringing in your ears though it was barely above a whisper as he stalked closer to you. His lightsaber...or rather half of his lightsaber still grasped in his hand. 
You were running towards him despite the short gap between you and crashing into his chest before you knew it. “I know, Maul, I know.” Your voice was choppy, form shaky, as you wrapped your trembling arms around his torso. His hand fell on your shoulder-not quite returning the sudden embrace but gripping hard enough to make it clear he had you. “I know I shouldn’t have come-I should’ve run away as soon as that damn door opened. I’m sorry.” The zabrak was silent as his lightsaber hummed close to your ear. You continued to press your face into his robes, not acknowledging the heat close to your head. Eventually, Maul took a deep breath and released it in a sigh as he sheathed his weapon. His arms wrapped around you-one on your waist while his other brought his hand to the back of your head. 
Maul pressed his face to your hair and you could feel his lips move as he spoke. “It’s alright, my light. I know.” The sound of him so gentle and understanding nearly brought you to your knees. This was your Maul-not whoever he was mere minutes ago as he battled your fellow padawan...Obi Wan...you didn’t dare let your mind dwell on the fate of him. 
You held each other for a moment more, the world around you slipping away, until you became overtly aware of how your stomach brushed against his. Your baby...you had to tell him now. You pulled back till you could look him in the eyes, saffron surrounded by a ring of vermillion meeting with your e/c. “Maul, I have to tell you something.” 
“He...he would’ve loved you.” You were ashamed of the way your voice broke at the admission. He would have loved Wild-that much you were certain of-if he he had gotten the chance to know him. But would either have that opportunity now? If Mother Talzin was successful in restoring Maul, would he be the same? You knew that you’d changed over the years-you’d had to for both your son’s and your own survival-but what would Maul be like? Your husband or the Sith Lord?...You supposed your distinguishing between the two the last time you’d described his father had not been unprecedented. With a deep breath in to steady yourself, you returned your attention to your son. “He would have taught you so much more. I wish you could meet him, Wild.” But...I don’t know if the Maul you meet will be the one I fell in love with. 
“Mom, you...you don’t have to talk about Dad if it’s too painful.” Wild’s barely audible voice brought your attention back to the present. 
“No....” Your voice was firmer than you’d expected it to be which took both you and your son aback. “No,” you tried again in a softer tone, “you...you deserve to know everything.” With a nervous swallow you continued. “Whatever you want to ask...I will answer.” There was no going back now. If the Maul that returned wasn’t the Maul you had known then maybe you could give Wild a chance to know his father through you. 
Wild gaped at you for a few seconds, your offer not quite computing. “...Are...you’re serious?” He asked skeptically with wide eyes. “Actually serious?” Your only reply was a nod as you let your hands fall to your sides and you shifted to sit on your knees. He was quiet for a moment longer as the gears turned in his head-most likely searching for the right first question. “Where did Dad die?” 
You swallowed again to stifle the panic. “...he...he didn’t.” Wild’s eyes widened a little further as shock overtook his face. “I...lost him on Naboo.” You scrambled to elaborate as your son fell completely silent. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. “I thought he died but...when Savage found us...he told me that he had been sent to find him. He wanted me to help locate your father. I told him that I watched him die on Naboo.” 
“What was he doing on Naboo?” Wild finally spoke after another beat had passed. 
“He was...helping enforce the blockade.” You knew you were being vague but Wild was going to draw his own conclusions soon. 
“The blockade?” He emphasised, referring to the blockade you’d told him Darth Maul had overseen. “What...why?” 
“His master had instructed him to.” 
“His master? So...Darth...did Dad work with the Sith?”
He was getting closer, that was for sure. “...Yes.” 
“Was...was Darth Maul his master?” 
“...No.” 
“Then...I don’t know what that means.” Wild admitted, retreating inwards to mull over the newly divulged information. 
With another sigh, you closed your eyes in an internal debate of whether or not you provided him with what could possibly be the key clue your son needed. It was a short lived debate though. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion.” You began to recall the mantra Maul had often recited to you when teaching you how to channel your own anger. “Through passion, I gain strength.” Your eyes began to sting behind your eyelids as tears of your own began to form. “Through strength, I gain power.” There was a shift-not only in the cargo hold or between you and your son but it felt like a great power was being awoken all over the red bathed planet. “Through power, I gain victory.” It shifted again, growing stronger, angrier, darker. “Through victory, my chains are broken.” The chains...the chains are the easy part...it’s what goes on in here that’s hard. Those words-some of the first coherent thoughts to spill from Maul upon you and Savage finding him suddenly rang throughout your head. What went on in Maul’s head would certainly prove the most difficult part to understand, that you were certain of. It had taken you months to even get a read on his personality when you were young. It had taken months for him to accept his feelings for you and even longer for him to accept that you returned them. It had taken years for the two of you to decide that spending the rest of your lives together was the right course of action and months for the Force to grant you one physical piece of evidence to prove the validity of your relationship. The Force had given you Wild and the promise of a life with Maul...and almost all of it had been taken away in an instant. Your lives bound to the will of the Force by chains too thick to break. “The Force shall free me.” You opened your eyes and let your gaze fall on Wild. He was staring at you with a mixture of confusion and undeniable curiosity. 
“What...what was that?” He asked in a tiny voice. 
“The code of the Sith.” You answered immediately, the words falling freely from you now. 
“Why do you know that…?” 
“A Sith taught it to me.” 
“Who?” 
You blinked. He was so close to figuring it out. “I have only ever met one Sith, Wild.” 
“...” He said nothing, his gaze moving away from you to gaze out of the cargo hold at the red bathed planet. Wild’s jaw was tense, his hands anxiously clenching into fists only to unclench a moment later, and his eyes frantically darted from side to side as though watching a battle before him. “What…,” he turned to you, “was Dad’s name?” 
Finally. You closed your eyes once more to prepare yourself for whatever was about to come. You only spoke once you opened your eyes. “Mau-” A searing pain tore through your abdomen, cutting you off in an instant. Screams clawed from your throat at the sudden sensation that felt not unlike a heated knife being stuck into the flesh above your hips and around your torso. You fell to your side, hands snaking around your lower stomach. 
“What is it, Y/n?” Maul questioned, picking up on the urgent tone in your voice immediately. His hands retracted from around you to take a firm hold on your forearms. 
Unable to fight the smile that clawed itself over your face, you turned your hands over to also grasp his arms, anchoring both of you in that moment. “Maul, my love, I’m-” He stiffened, eyes locking on something above your head. With a harsh shove he sent you to the floor as his hand shot for his lightsaber. 
It happened in a blur-a flash of green, a choked breath, and the worst pain you’d ever felt tearing its way across your lower abdomen. It was the worst moment of your life-your love and your connection to him being severed in one fell swoop from Obi Wan Kenobi. You didn’t know if you screamed or cried. You didn’t know if you did anything else besides watch as Maul fell away, lost to some unimportant reactor shaft on Naboo. A death so unbefitting a man of such power it almost felt poetic. Unjustly poetic. Was this some form of punishment? You knew you grabbed his lightsaber, clinging to it as you prayed for death to take you as well. If the Force should decree for you to suffer a fate worse than death than it would lose you to it as well. 
But you were stopped. Two hands pulled you away, you were led back to the council to await a different fate unknown to you. The last touch of your love seared into your skin as was the pain of his fatal wound. 
You opened your eyes, vaguely aware of the mutterings falling from you and the cold press on your forehead. There was a firm grip on your hand and a warm weight pressed into your side. “Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.” Your voice mixed with another’s graced your ears-the mantra of the Sith being repeated over and over as the pain in your abdomen began to fade till none remained. You sat up and immediately wrapped Wild in a hug. His muttering stopped to be replaced by yours. “Wild, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You kept repeating it as your son clung to you. 
“What happened?” He gasped out, grip like iron as he latched onto your arms. 
“Maul.” You brought him up to eye level. “Maul’s back.” You exclaimed, already able to feel the familiar turbulent presence of your husband. “He’s back.” You began to struggle to your feet, shaky and weak as they may be. 
“Mom, calm down-you’re injured.” Wild tried to drag you back down but you pulled your hand away from him. 
“No, I’m not. I’m fine. Wild, we need to go. Please. He’s back.” You tried, already doing your best to march out of the cargo hold.
“Mom, hold on. What are you talking about?” 
“Maul. I told you. Come on!” You were insistent, being pulled out of the ship by that commanding presence. 
“Not until you tell me what my dad’s name was!” You stopped short, realization dawning on you. 
Before anything could be said, a clinking sound echoed in from outside the ship causing you both to freeze. Wild immediately dropped into a defensive position, calling your blue lightsaber to him. You closed your eyes again, trying to sense what was going on. Maul’s presence was overwhelming-it crashed into you like a wall of water freshly freed from a dam. His signature was one so powerful and tumultuous that you had had little else to liken it to over the years. Where your connection with Wild was quieter and warm, the one to Maul was fiery and deceptively silent, threatening to burn you if you held onto it for too long. Force, you’d missed it. You stepped forward, eyes flying open as you did so and focused on your own presence-trying to amplify it for Maul. You had to know if he was the same man. The clinking stopped. His signature changed-a blinding glow forming to accompany the wrathful haze that always surrounded him. The clinking resumed, faster now as Maul grew closer to the ship. 
You broke out in a run, darting out of the ship before Wild’s startled cry could meet your ears and rounding around the wing of it. You stopped the same time the clinking did as before you stood a red zabrak, standing a little warily on his robotic legs, whose head was crowned with ivory horns and whose eyes burned with light brighter than any star. “Maul…” You breathed out. 
He straightened up, confused scowl falling away, as he spoke with a voice that rumbled like distant thunder. “My light…” 
…………………………………………………..
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butterbuni · 3 years
Text
♥ Sebastian Michaelis ♥
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♥ 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵:
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Songs: ~ The Lonely (Piano and Cello Orchestral) ~The Suite - Downton Abbey ~The Spectre (Piano Orchestral) ~Something Just Like This (Piano Orchestral)  ~Duneagle
♥ Tea Time Head Cannons 
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~Tea time always happens at noon. Sebastian never forgets. He is always ready no matter the day.
~ Should Sebastian forget he always makes up for it with better décor or better menu options
~I feel like despite Sebastian being quick and efficient he spends the most time picking the kind of tea set to use
~There are many options can you blame him?
~Once Sebastian finally picks out the perfect tea set to go with tea he makes sure to prepare a fancy dish to go with
~Once again met with too many options too little time
~Bare with him, he always comes through in the end :D
~He set the table perfectly momentarily checking his watch to get his young master. 
~Throughout the tea time process getting the young master is by far the longest thing. 
~He is constantly stopped by one of the others. Either Baldroy is messing with the menu he had perfectly hand crafted. Mey-Rin is messing with the tea setting. Or Finnian is messing with the décor.
~No matter, he is able to succeed in the end with almost no causalities. If you disregard some broken dishes, a few burnt pastries, and ripped table cloth :D
~Once Sebastian has gotten Ciel ready for tea time everything else is a breeze 
~Ciel has not been burdened he has done his job as a butler
~After all he is simply one hell of a butler 
♥ 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦
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Paring: Sebastian x Fem Reader
Word Count: 803
The bright moonlight seeped in to ballroom of the Phantomhive Manor. The soft sounds of the orchestra echoed beautifully. All the guests danced gracefully. Smiles on all their faces. It was very rare that the Phantomhive Manor would open their doors for anyone other than high society.
However today was a very rare occasion. It was Ciel Phantomhive's birthday and by some grace his wife to be, Elizabeth, had convinced him to open the manor to the public. He even seemed to have a bit of fun. Though if anyone asked about why he had done such a thing. Ciel would always reply, "It was simply a matter of business."
His butler knew better and it amused him every time Ciel would say the same thing over and over to each guest that came up to him.  
"Master," Sebastian would say after each guest that arrived, "I don't think saying that would make your guest any happier."
Each time Ciel would roll his eyes and dismiss Sebastian off but he was fooling no one. Sebastian had already long before noticed the sense of happiness that surrounded the boy.
It wasn't until you came walking through the manor doors did something pique Sebastian's interest.
You wore a beautiful but simple red dress. However you were frowning even before you got to there. Your eye's surveyed the the ball not looking amused in the slightest. You slowly stepped down the grand steps, your hand trailing the banner. Sebastian cocked an eyebrow.
You looked like a noble yet he he couldn't quite place his hand on where you could possibly be from.
"Sebastian."
Sebastian looked to his young master only to finally see him with a small smile. "If you want the guests to remain happy. Then go make her happy," Ciel said he cocked his eyebrow to you.
Sebastian smiled before sweeping into a quick bow, "What kind of butler would I be if I couldn't di that."
He got up picking out a white rose from a nearby vase. He walked over to you as you stood off in a corner not participating in the event.
Once he reached you a took a quick bow offering you the white rose. Surprised you took the rose from him bringing it up to your nose giving it a small whiff. It smelled lovely.
"My name is Sebastian, butler of the Phantomhive family. You seem unhappy," Sebastian said calmly. You twirled the flower in your hand pondering it all.
"Why be happy, is the question." You answered after a bit. Sebastian was amused. "It's a lively event. You should be smiling," Sebastian said a bit of him wanting to push the conversation further. He was interested in what you had in mind.
"It's always should this. should that. Whatever happened to 'do whatever you want'," You said you continued to twirl the flower in your hand a frown still evident on your face. You were serious. Why should anyone be told they should do something even when they don't feel like it.
"Then that defeats the purpose of free will wouldn't you say?"
You cocked an eyebrow, "Whatever do you mean?"
"You say you want to be able to do whatever you want but if someone were to tell you that doesn't that count as an order," Sebastian smiled.
For the first time that night you smiled. Sebastian was surprised. He had planned another choice words for your type of questions and he was more than prepared to let you hear them.
"Sebastian Michaelis. Butler to the Earl of Phantomhive or rather the Queen's Guard Dog." You said a sly smirk playing on your lips.
"So you are well aware of who I am prior to our meeting?"
"Why would I not? It's rude not to know your hosts before attending a party." You placed the white rose on a nearby table. Sebastian took a small bow, smaller than the one from earlier but deep enough to show his respect.
"Pardon my manners, I never got your name." He insinuated for you to tell you his name. You let out a small giggle, "I am free to do whatever I want. I am also free to tell you my name regardless of if you ask or not."
Before Sebastian could answer you, you grabbed the white rose from the table, "It was nice meeting you Sebastian Michaelis, your order was definitely fulfilled."
Sebastian stood confused as you started walking in the direction he had come from. You slide your hand across his chest placing the white rose in his chest pocket. You leaned into his ear and whispered, "You are simply one hell of a butler after all. Save your first dance for me will you."
You leaned away. A genuine smile on your face and in your hand, a letter from the queen.
-------------------------------
This also serves as an example of what you will get with my small package option for my commissions 
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imnotwolverine · 3 years
Text
The Accidental Family - I am..WHAT?!
Henry Cavill x OFC Phoebe (Bee) 
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Warnings: mentions of smut, strong language, unplanned pregnancy, sad fluff
Word count: 2.414
Author’s note: OKAY..one more to finish the year. I’m writing this while frying oliebollen (Dutch dough balls we eat during festivities) and my fingers are all sticky and sweet, but hey; I can’t leave you readers hanging on the last day of this miserable year! Kisses 😘
(Link to my Masterlist)
--
Phoebe was done with it all. Done with this week; done with the slump that was her life right now. She just worked through a week with three over-time shifts at the hospital, some annoyances with her new IUD and Leon. Fucking-fucktard Leon. 
But tonight she was going to be a big girl and suck it up, because heck; she was a good friend and tonight was Megan’s night. After long years of hard toil and shitty side-jobs, Megan had MADE it. She had gotten her first serious acting gig and tonight was the premiere, to which Phoebe would be her +1. 
Single girls unite. 
Sighing, Phoebe leaned into her make-up mirror, applying a coat of lipgloss to her pursed lips, heavy eyelashes fluttering. She never wore this much make-up, but it seemed like a thing you did when you went to such a fancy party. An A-lister party. Would Meryl Streep be there? She always had wanted to meet Meryl Streep. 
Smacking her lips to feel the stickiness of her lipgloss - why did people like wearing this crap? -, she moved out to the hall of her small apartment where she heard the intercom buzz. Alright. Showtime. 
‘Coming!’ She called to nobody in particular, hastily looking over the rows of shoes that were messily stacked by her door. Heels - heels - heels. And that scarf. Leon’s scarf. “Accidentally” left behind after he had come over to finally pick up the last of his things. She couldn’t stand the sight of it, and if it were a “good girl thing” to do, she’d shove it down the trash right now - like the trash he was. Cheater.
*tringgg* 
Hurry! -- Okay, shoes! Purple, brown, practical, no - no - no.. And then her eye fell on the perhaps a bit painful, but very much sexy heels she had once bought to wear for her 6th anniversary with Leon. Fuck-Me-Pumps. With silvery diamond straps and all. He hadn’t given two damns about them, about her dreams she had tried to talk about during that dinner - kids - but then again, Phoebe learned a year later why that was; CHEATER. 
‘Please bring me luck, babies.’ Phoebe mumbled, picking up the intercom that buzzed again. ‘Just putting on my shoes. Down in a minute.’ 
‘Alright m’am.’ A deep voice responded politely. 
Was that the driver? It must be the driver! They had a driver?! OH MEGAN, YOU! 
Excitement started to bubble in Phoebe’s tired bones as she realised that perhaps for tonight, things could be fun - painful shoes and all. 
Show-time. 
--
The water boiler gurgled lazily on the countertop, two pairs of eyes staring down at it, willing it to go faster. 
‘You didn’t respond to my text.’ Henry tried to keep a casual tone, but even with all his acting experience, the hurt was evident as his blue eyes swiftly moved over to Phoebe, who that had just knocked on his door after 3 months of radio silence. 
‘Yea...’ Phoebe cleared her throat and awkwardly leaned into the opposite kitchen counter Henry was leaning into. The tension was tangible and for a moment she scolded herself for pushing Megan to find out Henry’s address. 
‘..some..stuff happened.’ 
‘Is this the point where you’re going to tell me you’re married and your husband found out?’ 
Phoebe’s eyes widened and a chuckle escaped her lips, making Henry frown. ‘That might have just made all this a bit easier. But eh..no. I ..’ 
--
‘FEEEEBBsss where WEREEEE youu. Oh my god. Have you met..’ Phoebe could barely manage to stay balanced on her high heels as Megan’s hand dragged her away from the toilets - away from him - and onto one of the far corners of the crowded room where some mildly creepy man was waving at Megan. Megan waved back, but Phoebe could only focus on the burst of white camera flashes behind her, her eyes wishing to look if he followed. 
But Megan’s grip was tight and Phoebe was perhaps three shot glasses too drunk to stay on her feet AND look over her shoulder - the deep pink blush on her cheeks betraying that something was going on. 
‘..so I had this super fun chat with Michael. You know Michael right? I mean he was crazyyy excited about..Phoebe? Earth to Phoebe!’ Megan’s neatly manicured nail prodded into Phoebe’s silvery dress, awakening the blond woman from her over-shoulder stare when they finally had halted. 
‘Wh-what? Hi! Sorry. Eh..’ Instantly the deep pink worsened on Phoebe’s cheeks as Megan shot her one unbelieving wild eyed stare - she knew. Oh fuck, she knew. 
‘You know what - if you’d excuse us for a moment.’ Megan smiled charmingly at the old man that was checking her out for all the wrong reasons. 
Again Megan’s hand pulled on her arm, but this time they travelled less far, walking out to a more quiet area guarded by some heavy red curtains which offered a walkway for the staff who much resembled an army of tuxedo clad ants moving large trays of fizz around. 
‘You are 50 shades of red, hun.’ Megan chuckled, wiping some mildly smudged lipgloss from Phoebe’s chin. 
‘Oh, woops.’ Phoebe quickly mimicked the wipe on her chin, but the sticky residue was already gone - though other sticky residue on some other lips were most definitely still there. 
Shit, she had to get cleaned up fast. She wasn’t even wearing any PANTIES. DAMMIT. Oh my...how..why..Wobbling dangerously on her heels again, Phoebe lurched for one of the walls, a sudden wave of nausea coming over her as her red cheeks turned bitter green.
‘Awh shit Feebs. You OK? Eh..Ehhhhh...’ Nervously Megan looked around the stretch of the hallway, black and white tuxedos cruising deftly around with the patterns of a well-practised champagne carrying dance. 
‘Pfff...’ Phoebe tried to breath in deeply, inhaling whatever air she could muster in her suddenly claustrophobically tight lungs. Oh what did she do?!!! OH NO. Oh Christ. Good girls don’t shag in toilet stalls. Good girls don’t... ‘Pff - pff -pff’ With short little puffs she let out the air, but the nausea didn’t fade. How did pregnant women do that? Damn. 
‘I gotta go home.’ 
‘Yea-yea. Let me fix you a cab.’ Megan clipped her fingers and in a few minutes Phoebe was loaded into a cab, away from the bustling bubble of Hollywood A-listers and hot shots. 
The fairytale, was over. 
--
‘I got scared.’ 
‘Of me?’ Henry’s face pulled into one of agony, making him look even more disheveled with his wild curls, crumpled white shirt - which looked much too good on his large chest - and loose hanging grey sweatpants. 
‘No. I mean. Eh. Well. I lost my phone and..I called..and..someone picked up.’ 
‘Lea? Miranda? What someone?’ Henry stepped a little closer as the water cooker started to come to a slow boil. 
‘I don’t know. I -- They said they never heard of me, so I explained what..happened - oh fuck I shouldn’t have..I...pfffff. I panicked.’ A heavy blush crept over her cheeks as she nervously eyed the water boiler, the little lever moving back to “off” as the water danced in a heavy boil within.
‘Gr-green tea? English tea? Mint? I got some..’ Henry’s voice trailed off.
Phoebe shrugged and brushed a hand over her cheek, willing herself to stop blushing as the large stranger of a man brushed passed her to reach for the tea bags that were located just beside her head. 
‘Oh sorry.’ She quickly tried to get away, but Henry could only grin. 
‘It’s not funny, Cavill.’ Phoebe pouted shyly. 
‘Well you stood me up. I’m allowed to..smile, no?’ 
Phoebe opened her mouth to say something. Perhaps ask for forgiveness, or further her explanation to why she chickened out to trying again - and how she had even gotten his address. But no words came and so she just watched as Henry turned back to the task of making tea, bunching a few mint leaves in the two grey mugs that were settled on the smooth grey kitchen counter. 
This man sure liked his greys. 
‘I eh..actually ..had to tell you something.’ 
Even Phoebe herself wasn’t prepared for the words that had just escaped her lips, but there they were, earning a surprised quirk of Henry’s eyebrow. 
‘You don’t say.’ His lip curled into another cheeky grin and Phoebe couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. Henry chuckled and hinted in the direction of the kitchen table. ‘Let’s sit.’ 
-- And that was a very good idea -- 
--
‘Meg..oh I’m in deep shit.’ Phoebe paced her small hallway as she waited for her friend’s voice to soothe her stomach fluttering nerves, her new smartphone clutched tightly in her hand. 
‘Oh- oh- wait a sec. Baby..yea..mommy is gonna be righttt there. Just a moment okay?’ A short pause followed and then Megan finally answered. ‘HEYY booo. What’s cooking goodlookin’?’ 
‘A baby, that’s what.’ 
‘W-what?’ 
--
Why didn’t he say anything? Phoebe nervously fingered the ear of her mug, waiting for Henry to give any kind of response to what she had just explained, and for the slightest moment she considered fleeing again - like she had numerous times when she tried to find the courage and call him, text him - anything. But that just hadn’t sat right, felt right. And then for long weeks she just pushed the reality of it all away. How could she be pregnant?! HOW?! 
The new IUD, that’s how. But, Henry had used protection; how much bad luck could one have?! So much for accidents that happen in cramped little bathroom stalls. 
Finally Henry made a noise, but it was more like a surprised squeak, then any normal sound a man his size would make. 
‘I’m sorry.’ Phoebe lowered her eyes a little more, taking it up as a; yea, this is not cool, girlfriend.
No, scratch that - she was not even his girlfriend. Ha! They were strangers for fuck’s sake. 
‘O-okay.’ Henry inhaled deeply and nodded, brushing a hand over the head of his dog, who was pushing a curious nose into his lap. ‘Okay. Wow.’ 
‘Yea..’ Phoebe swallowed thickly. ‘I..I’m keeping it either way. But..I thought..’ Her fingers had apparently curled around the mug so fiercely that it right about screamed as its small ear broke off. ‘OH FUCK.’ Her eyes widened as her lips turned into a shocked little “o”. 
Henry laughed. ‘Well, we better get new mugs before that baby is born.’ 
Was he being sarcastic? Phoebe felt like she was close to tears as the man before her cracked out the mug joke. Oh, why did she always ruin things?! 
‘Oh don’t cry. Please don’t cry. It’s just a mug.’ Henry’s smile turned into a pained lip bite as he saw the silvery tears rim Phoebe’s eyes. But Phoebe couldn’t help it, her lower lip already shivering as she looked down at the broken little tea ear in her hand. 
‘I’m sorry..’ She whimpered pathetically, the first tears already beading down her cheek before Henry could push away his chair and squat down beside her. 
‘Hey-hey. It’s okay. It’s..hey, come on now.’ 
‘I’ll *sniff* g-get a new..ha..new one *sniff*’ 
Henry smiled, slowly shaking his head before he carefully brushed his fingers through her golden locks, hooking them behind her ear so he could properly see her face. 
‘Bee..’ His voice lowered to a gentle hum.
‘It’s Phoebe by the way.’ She sniffled. 
‘Okay. Hello Phoebe.’ His hand folded around her hand that was carefully holding onto the broken off mug ear. Hesitantly, Phoebe looked away from her hand, right into the blue ocean that had drawn her in some three months ago from across the crowded room. She now too noticed a little fleck of brown in there - a little accidental mutation. Would the baby have his eyes? 
‘H-hi.’ She sniffled, trying her best to turn her lips in a smile, but it only worsened everything, more tears bursting from her eyes as the stress and chaos of the past months came crashing down. In an instant she felt herself be enveloped by large warm arms, a hot breath fanning over her head as Henry nuzzled her hair, his lips brushing over the shell of her ear as he spoke: 
‘It was just an accident, okay? No harm done.’ 
Phoebe nodded, but scolded herself anyways. Sure enough he was just talking about the mug. The stupid fucking mug. But what about the fucking baby?! Her..- his - baby. 
‘Phoebe? Bee?’ He settled back a little, his fingers brushing through her hair again. ‘How about we go sit on the couch and I make you a new cup of tea and we..’ He licked his lip as his eyes quickly flew over her heart-shaped, tear bruised face. He had to try hard not to unnecessarily coo over her. He didn’t want to chase her away this time. Especially not now. Not with this..situation.
A..baby?!
‘You don’t have to be so nice you know.’ Phoebe muttered, looking back at him. 
‘Well, too bad I’m a nice guy then.’ -- Who is going to be a dad!!! WOO! --  His lips curled in a sweet smile. 
‘Nice guys don’t shag women in bathroom stalls, do they?’ 
Henry cleared his throat at her sharp words, quickly looking down at his hand covering hers. ‘Yea..that was a ..bit uncharacteristic of mine. Ha..fuck..You know I scolded myself so hard for doing that. I-I sent you a pretty long Whatsapp message after, but..’ 
‘I never got that. Must be some syncing issue when I got my new phone.’ Phoebe’s lips curled in a watery smile. ‘The couch is fine.’ 
‘Okay.’ Henry’s smile grew a little. ‘Can you walk?’ 
‘Pff..Of course I can walk.’ She huffed, before she all but flew up into Henry’s chest in surprise when she was nuzzled by a very wet nose. 
‘Oh, I forgot to mention, this is Kal. My dog. And he likes the word “walk”’ - the dog borked softly - ‘very much.’ 
They both laughed and Kal’s ears perked up, his wet nose pressing in Phoebe’s elbow again, pushing her further up into Henry’s welcoming arms. 
The whole situation was weird, but as Henry felt how naturally they somehow melted into an embrace, her arms wrapping around his back, he could only smile. 
Sometimes accidents simply offered you the little push you needed all along. Be it in the form of broken mugs or babies. 
--
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when-a-humble-bard · 4 years
Text
heartbeat
Jaskier has a nightmare about Geralt. Geralt jumps to the wrong conclusion. Geraskier hurt/comfort with a light sprinkling of fluff. 
word count: 1788 (it was supposed to be like 500 words what happened)
Warnings: some elements of self-loathing, nightmares, mentions of death, Geralt has feelings and he is Not Ready for That, bed-sharing trope, Geralt’s first use of a nickname if that needs a warning??
A/N: Geraskier fuels my soul in this trying time, and I am but a wee humble writer trying to explore them in all the ways I can. 
...
Geralt startles awake when he hears the rustling, followed by a choked off noise. The scent of fear is sharp like frost, and it floods his nostrils. He bolts up, ears perked for the signs of danger, his bright gold eyes peering into the dark of the room around him. The door is still shut, as is the window.
It’s not until he hears it again—most rustling, another sound that’s something like an aborted sob—that he realizes the noise is coming from Jaskier in the bed on the opposite side of the room. Geralt can hear the pounding of the bard’s heart. He looks at him in the dark, realizing a moment later that he’s still asleep.
Geralt’s lips press into a thin line. He was well-acquainted with nightmares.
“Jaskier,” he says quietly in the dark. He doesn’t know if he should wake him or hope that he settles on his own. He’s, admittedly, a bit surprised. It wasn’t common for Jaskier to have nightmares. And when he did, it usually manifested as a brief bought of restlessness and little else.
Whatever is plaguing his mind, though, seems to be especially bad. Jaskier makes another strained noise in the back of his throat, and Geralt sighs before climbing out of his own bed.
“Jaskier,” he tries again, preparing to reach a hand out to shake him.
“Geralt,” Jaskier chokes off, and Geralt freezes. His eyes widen, even as something he can’t name plummets in his chest. Jaskier’s nightmare is about him.
In all their travels together, one thing that made Jaskier different from most other humans was the complete lack of fear the bard seemed to have when it came to the Witcher. The absolute refusal to acknowledge Geralt’s ability to hurt him, to put him in danger. Jaskier felt fear—Geralt had smelled in on the bard and seen it in his eyes any time he got a bit too close to the monster fights that Geralt couldn’t persuade him to avoid—but it was never about Geralt.
But the scent of fear is nearly the only thing Geralt can smell this close to him—harsh like the air right before a lightning strike—and he’d said the Witcher’s name. The evidence was damning. And Geralt. Well. He forces a hard swallow past his tightening throat.
But he has to do something. Because the fear is so strong it’s really more like terror and Geralt will do anything to at least get that smell from the bard to ease. Even just a little. Even if he has to leave after this so that Jaskier can stop pretending he’s not afraid of the Witcher.
“Jaskier,” he repeats for the third time, grabbing the bard’s shoulder.
The effect is immediate. Jaskier’s bright blue eyes fly open and he gasps, scrambling up into a sitting position. Geralt quickly retracts his hand, taking a step back as he watches the bard get his bearings. His chest is still heaving with panting breaths.
Then those wide eyes settle on Geralt in the middle of the room and Geralt feels rooted to the spot. He should leave. Jaskier deserves to feel safe, and—
“Geralt?”
Geralt nods once in the dark. His jaw works. He wants to say something, knowing he should say something. But he doesn’t know if he should be reassuring or apologetic or something else entirely.
And then suddenly—so suddenly in fact, that the sensory change makes the Witcher almost dizzy—the scent of fear vanishes. In its place is Jaskier’s usual wildflowers scent, tinged slightly with salt. From tears? From sweat? Geralt glances over to see just as Jaskier covers his face with his hands and leans his head back against the headboard.
“Fuck,” Jaskier says shakily. He takes a few more deep breaths, each one a bit more even than the last. He pushes his fingers up his face and back through his hair. “Melitele’s tits.” He looks over at Geralt, and even in the dark, he can see some color tinge the bard’s cheeks. “Thank you, Geralt. For waking me.”
“Hm.” Geralt hums, because he still hasn’t decided what he should do. He keeps waiting for that tinge of fear to creep back—for Jaskier to realize he’s alone in the room with the very object of his nightmare—but it never comes. Even stranger is the way that Jaskier keeps looking at him. Not guarded. Not afraid. There’s something far, far too soft in his eyes for that to be fear.
Jaskier leans his head back against the headboard again and closes his eyes. A second passes, and then Geralt smells it. The faint, sharp scent of fear. It’s barely there—really more of an echo of what it had been a moment ago—and Geralt wonders if he’d even have picked up on it at all if he hadn’t been specifically waiting for it to reappear.
But it’s enough. Geralt moves to grab his things when Jaskier’s voice stops him.
“Geralt.”
Geralt stops. He wants to tell Jaskier that it’s okay. He understands. The bard doesn’t have to ask him to leave; the Witcher is all too willing if it will help Jaskier sleep better at night. If it means that Jaskier will feel safer—
“Can you come here?”
Geralt turns around with a frown. Surely, he must have heard him wrong. But Jaskier’s voice still doesn’t quite sound like him, and he just looks at the Witcher with that odd look in his eyes, and Geralt can’t find it within himself to refuse such a simple request. He gravitates towards the bed and Jaskier sits up a little more.
“I have a favor to ask of you,” Jaskier says in a way that cues Geralt into the fact that he’s about to ramble. The bard pulls his legs up closer to him, a clear invitation for Geralt to sit down on the bed. Before he’s even fully aware of what he’s doing, Geralt sits. “And you are more than welcome to say ‘fuck off, Jaskier’, like you usually do even if you say with a certain and increasing friendly banter-kind-of-way, but ah, well. Can I just, um.” Jaskier swallows and reaches a hand out towards him.
Geralt doesn’t move, watching as Jaskier slowly presses his palm to the center of Geralt’s chest. The Witcher’s brow furrows, confused, but Jaskier just keeps his hand there. When Geralt looks back at the bard’s face, Jaskier’s closed his eyes. And after a long moment that seems to stretch, Geralt sees the lingering tension in Jaskier’s shoulders drain out of him. The way he hangs his head slightly, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows thickly. The faint, barely-disguised breath he releases.
His hand goes slightly lax against the Witcher’s chest and Geralt instinctively covers it with his own to keep it there.
Jaskier looks up then, surprise flickering through his gaze before he offers a soft, sincere smile. “Thank you.”
Geralt’s gaze narrows inquisitively. “Why?” he asks, glancing down at Jaskier’s hand on his chest.
Jaskier—usually so bold and confident—ducks his head. It makes Geralt frown even more before he responds. “I suppose my overactive imagination has it’s… downsides as well. I dream vividly in the day and even more vividly at night. I suppose I just desired some tangible evidence that your heart was still beating, my dear Witcher.”
“My…” Realization dawns slowly, but it tightens something in Geralt’s throat as it sets in. “Your dream. I… I died.”
Jaskier tilts his head slightly, his gaze flickering down to Geralt’s hand covering his own against Geralt’s chest. “Yes. Though I’m quite relieved to inform you that it was only a dream, however… realistic and um… however realistic it may have felt.”
But Geralt can’t stop staring at the bard with wide eyes, an unusual warmth blossoming beneath Jaskier’s hand. The thought keeps repeating in his head like a mantra with increasing weight and conviction.
Jaskier wasn’t afraid of him. Jaskier was afraid for him.
Nobody in Geralt’s life had ever been afraid for him before. They didn’t need to be. And yet, here was Jaskier, and…
Fuck.
The Witcher feels a little bit like the ground has shifted beneath his feet. He sees Jaskier’s brow furrow in concern, and just the slightest bit more pressure against his chest. But not pushing him away. Instead, Geralt recognizes it as Jaskier trying to ground him, and Geralt squeezes his hand in a silent thanks. Because he does feel—a little—like he’s spiraling.
“Geralt?”
He blinks a few times. “Hm?”
“Are you all right?”
Geralt tries to clear his throat. “I’m fine.”
Jaskier’s eyebrow arches. “Are you sure? You look a little… off kilter.”
Geralt huffs a breath, because he can’t quite argue with that. He shakes his head slightly, more in an effort to clear his thoughts than in disagreement. “It’s still the middle of the night, Jask. You should try to get more sleep.”
It’s Jaskier’s turn to blink at him, and it’s only then that Geralt realizes he used the nickname he’d so often heard Jaskier use for himself. But from the smile that tugs across Jaskier’s face, the bard doesn’t mind. Maybe he even likes it. Geralt quietly files that information away to turn over in his brain another time.
Jaskier inclines his head wearily in response, but Geralt sees the hesitation flicker through his blue eyes in the dark. “And yet, I am not sure it will be quite that simple. Perhaps I shall work on composing another song—” He moves to reach for his lute leaned against the foot of the bed, but Geralt intercepts him. The bard is deflecting. Avoiding.
“Jaskier.”
“Truly, Geralt, I think I’ve had enough rest for the night—”
“Hm.” Jaskier hasn’t moved to pull his hand away from his chest still. Geralt’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze narrowing slightly at the bard. Jaskier glances away, and it’s all the confirmation that the Witcher needs to his theory.
Geralt doesn’t say anything as he shifts to stretch out on the bed with Jaskier, but the bard also doesn’t say anything as he shifts over to give Geralt room. Geralt folds his arms behind his head and takes a deep breath as Jaskier settles beside him after a moment’s pause, his hand returning to feel the Witcher’s slow-beating heart.
Geralt wraps an arm around the bard to run his thumb back and forth along the young man’s back. He listens to Jaskier’s heartbeat in the dark until his breathing evens out, indicating he’s fallen asleep.
It’s the best sleep either of them have had in a long time.
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strange-lace · 3 years
Text
Concert State of Consciousness
IT’S FINALLY DONE! I HAVE NOW MADE A FANFIC FOR THIS ROLESWAP AU! I didn’t expect this damn thing to get this long but here I am, once again! Kind of happy with how everyone’s characterized, though Demon Kid ended up a bit more sinister than I intended. I definitely had fun writing the dynamic between Mei and Green though.
Hope y’all like it!
To say the city was abuzz with excitement would be an understatement.
For the past couple of months, the name DJ Horns has been spoken with increasing interest as his music suddenly began to be played on the radio constantly. And most people wouldn’t deny that it was good, electronic yet incredibly varied depending on the song. But what interested people the most about the musician was how mysterious he was, active on social media and yet nobody knew his face and only the barest of personal details. Even his voice was a matter of debate with him using a voice synthesizer even when talking normally on his social media.
It was the perfect storm to allow DJ Horns fanbase to start from nothing to practically explode over time.
And the same musician had just announced that he would be doing a live concert right at the heart of the city, even playing “secret tracks” that he had yet to let anyone hear until now.
People were practically fighting to get themselves tickets, Mei herself included that chaos. She had been swept up in the excitement of DJ horns since the very beginning and was willing to do whatever she had to get tickets for her and Green to that concert.
Leading her to the unfortunate situation she was in now. Kicked out of the ticket venue and by the time the ban would be lifted, she knew all the concert tickets would be sold out. Oh and Green had to bail her out from getting in trouble with the security guys.
“I don’t get what the big deal was, everyone was fighting dirty to get first pick at those tickets!” Even with his shades, she could tell that Green was rolling his eyes at her.
“Oh gee, I don’t know Mei. Maybe it’s because you nearly tore a guy’s hair out!”
“That’s what he gets for trying to say I was only a fan to get the attention of other guys! Now I’m gonna miss the concert of a lifetime,” Mei groaned, a pout on her lips. Green’s scowl of disappointment softened as they walked into Pigsy’s Noodles, starting to feel bad. It’s not like the guy wasn’t being a jerk after all.
“I suppose I could see about pulling some strings to get us some decent seats, if it means that much-” He was cut off by a crushing hug from Mei, who easily lifted Green off of his feet and began to twirl them both around in sheer jubilation.
“You’d do that for me?! Thank you so much Green, you’re the absolute best!”
“Yes, yes, your appreciation is very evident now please put me down before you crush my rib cage,” he wheezed, letting in a deep gulp of air once he was freed. Mei appeared sheepish at the unintentional show of strength. “As I was saying, there’s probably a couple scalpers I could cough two tickets out of without much trouble.”
“I still question how you have the money to just do stuff like that casually, make hundreds of gadgets, and build our secret base.”
“You have your mysterious ways and I have mine Mei.” Before Mei could question further, Pigsy voice interrupted them both, looking a fair bit of a mess.
“There you are kid, we got a mountain of orders for you to deliver! Oh, and this came for you and Green in mail while you were gone, no return address though weirdly enough,” he said, shoving a load of noodle orders in Mei’s arms alongside two unmarked envelopes: one orange and the other green. The sound of something crashing in the kitchen tore Pigsy’s attention away, causing him to let out a string of curses as he went back into what sounded like chaos.
Green took the envelopes off Mei’s hands while she struggled with balancing all the orders in her arms, studying them with interest. Upon closer inspection, each envelope simply had “To My Heroes” scrawled on the front in elegant writing and sealed with a black wax seal on the back. He found himself impressed at all the sheer amount of effort put in.
“Fancy,” he commented before gently opening the green envelope. His eyes widened at what he found inside. “Looks like I won’t need to pay any scalpers for tickets.”
“Wait what do you mean? Gimme that!” Mei said, putting the orders down on the table to snatch the orange envelope and tear into it with desperate ferocity. There were practically stars once she took in what was inside: front row tickets to the DJ Horns concert and even VIP passes.
The windows of the restaurant rattled the slightest bit as the sheer force of her screams of joy.
Green didn’t even flinch as his ears were assaulted, used to this level of volume, while unfortunate bystanders winced in pain or jumped in surprise. He found a handwritten behind the ticket in his own envelope and curiosity getting the better of him, began to read it.
“As a token of thanks for always keeping this city safe, here’s free front row tickets on me! Can’t wait to see you both tonight in front of the crowd! ♡♡♡
- DJ Horns”
“How… suspiciously generous of him,” Green drawled, an eyebrow raised at such a note.
“What’s suspicious about it? We do save the city a lot and somebody’s just showing their appreciation for it! I see no problem with it,” Mei argued, pausing in her celebrations, which involved her doing a handstand on one of the stools and didn’t even seem bothered holding the position.
“Mei, this implies that he hand delivered these here without anybody noticing. Why go through all that effort to be sneaky?” It just didn’t sit right in the pit of his stomach, something smelled rotten about this to him.
“Because he’s a mega famous celebrity, he’s probably worried that making a big deal out of us giving these could make people upset or something.” It made sense to Mei, who wouldn’t free tickets from their favorite music artist and be upset that someone else was given that opportunity? She did a small flip from the stool to land next to Green, wrapping her arm around his shoulders until they were close enough that their cheeks were squished together. Despite the closeness, Green looked more uncomfortable about being tugged down to Mei’s height than anything else. That and how blinding her smile was.
“C’mon Green, I get the skepticism but it’s just a concert. One night where we can be normal teens enjoying the fruits of our labor in protecting this place, what’s so bad about that? Plus, it’ll be fun! So how about it?” Mei said, almost sounding desperate. Green remained silent for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh, only giving her a tired smile as he returned the one armed hug.
“Oh alright, you win. I suppose a break sounds nice right about now considering how things went with Demon Kid last time. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?” He conceded, willing to let his suspicion aside for a night of just not having to worry about anything but having a good time and enjoying music. Especially after yesterday, Green was still amazed that the demon managed to make something like perfume into a weapon of mass annoyance.
“That’s the spirit! This is gonna be the night of our lives!”
At least that’s what she thought, until her trinkets were literally snatched out of her hands.
“After you finish your deliveries for the night kid,” Pigsy interrupted, looking a lot more put together now that whatever disaster that had been happening in the kitchen was under control. Excluding the number of stains on his apron that weren’t there before of course. It took Mei a moment to process that her precious tickets weren’t in her hands and she was quick to bring out the puppy dog eyes.
“But- but Pigsy-” Pigsy showed no sign of giving in, having years to build a resistance to all of Mei’s tricks.
“I’m sorry Mei, but we’re way too swamped to let you run off with no one to do all these deliveries. Once you have all the deliveries done, you can have these back. But only after, so you better get started,” he stated, leaving no room for argument. And even if Mei tried, the smell of something burning had Pigsy back in the kitchen just like that with even more fervent curses, this time with her tickets tucked into the pockets of his apron.
Mei let out a groan and smacked her forehead against the countertop in despair. Green merely patted her back in sympathy to her plight.
“There’s no way I’m gonna make all those deliveries and not miss like half of the concert! Unless…”
Oh no, he recognized that look in her eyes anywhere.
“Mei, no. I know exactly what you’re thinking and I’m telling you right now, no. No music is worth facing Pigsy’s wrath if he finds out you skipped out on work for a concert. Which is what exactly will happen, he always finds out,” Green warned her, even taking off his sunglasses to look her dead in the eyes to get his point across. Mei winced at that, remembering what had happened last time she tried to skimp on work.
The power of Pigsy’s “I’m not mad, just disappointed” is something even DBK should fear.
“Look, I’ll record whatever you miss if I don’t see you by the time it starts. Might not be the same but it’s better than nothing.” That offer seemed to perk Mei up from her bout of disappointment, hopeful eyes peeking through her thick hair bangs.
“Promise?”
“I promise. But if you don’t want to miss the whole thing, you’d better do what Pigsy says and get started on the deliveries. Especially since I think that pile has grown since we got here,” Green said, pointing to the small mountain of orders which indeed had gotten bigger since passed off to her. This time, he was more prepared for the bone crushing embrace which came his way and thankfully had his arms free enough to return it.
“Thanks Green, you’re the best! Hopefully I’ll see you there before it all starts!” And just like that, Mei was off like a whirlwind with all the noodle orders in her arms. She excitedly loaded them into the shop’s delivery cart and drove off with a strong stomp in the gas pedal, the cart’s tires squealing in distress before driving off.
With a weary sigh, Green took his leave as well though he couldn’t stop looking at the ticket and note in his hands. 
Even with Mei’s assurances, something about the situation still did not sit right with him.
“For once, please let me be wrong,” Green whispered to himself, not noticing a suspiciously familiar monkey-shaped marionette creature eagerly watching him from the rooftops above. On the other side of the puppet’s eyes, her creator couldn’t help the manic grin off of his face as the pieces started to fall into place for his plan.
Green had to admit that he was expecting this many people packed into the area when he rolled up to the concert gates on his motorcycle, Mei still nowhere in sight. Though he certainly made sure to update him on how the deliveries were going.
A familiar ding sound on his phone made him pause, giving an exasperated smile at seeing another text from Mei.
“WHY ARE SO MANY PEOPLE ORDERING NOODLES TONIGHT??? got done w 3/4 of the orders, if i hurry i should be there before opening act’s done. if anybody tries to steal my seat, i give you permission to use lethal force. don’t let me down! <3”
“Maybe if you didn’t send me so many texts, you’d be getting the deliveries done faster Mei,” Green mumbled to himself fondly as he climbed off his bike, blissfully unaware of the stares being sent his way. As usual, his hair was a mess of black and pale green spikes as he pulled off his helmet and he let out a soft huff, attempting to put order to the mane that was his hair as he made his way inside.
Green let out a low whistle, impressed as he walked further in to discover the place was decorated head to toe with fluorescent neon lights, state of the art music equipment, and a giant disco ball hanging from the ceiling which added another layer of glitz. It was almost disorientating, the onslaught of neon colors, lights, and music from all sides but in a way that was also exhilarating. The harsh glow of red, orange, and purple was a bit much for Green but at the same time it filled him with a sense of giddiness that made him begin to understand Mei’s desperation to be here.
His heart did a slight leap of excitement once he found his seat. It was one thing to read he had a front row seat and another thing entirely to see how close he was to the stage. And a completely separate thing to see a note on the seat, scrawled with a familiar extravagant writing which welcomed him and Mei with hopes that they would enjoy the show.
All too soon, all the lights went out and Green could feel his breath pause before they returned with full force alongside familiar music which seemed to make the entire room pulsate with its vibrations. Multiple spotlights shined on the stage and the crowd went wild with cheering as DJ Horns finally showed, looking just as bombastic as his set up.
He wore an ornate metallic helmet decorated with large horns that protruded from the forehead which shined a rainbow of colors under the neon lights. A dark fur lined coat was draped over his shoulders with a matching suit underneath and metal lined gloves on his hands. Overall, he looked like quite a character to Green though there was niggling in the back of his head that this should be someone that he could recognize. The grip on the arms of his seat tightened.
His eyes took in the still empty seat to his right and he began to gnaw his lip in worry.
“Where are you Mei?” Green asked himself before the synthesized voice of DJ Horns interrupted his thoughts.
“What is up everybody? You all ready for the show of a lifetime?!” A loud cacophonous roar of cheers answered him, which he soaked in without a hint of shame in his posture. “That’s what I like to hear! And we have some very special guests tonight right in the front row, the Monkie Kid herself and her partner, the Green Dragon!”
Green couldn’t help the flinch when a spotlight suddenly shined down on him, leaving him feeling exposed to hundreds upon thousands of eyes which zeroed in on him the vacant seat next to him. Yet he still forced on a smile which was more teeth than anything else, not quite appreciating being put on the spot like this. The musician’s shoulders seemed to tense in disappointment once he also noticed being down one of his special guests, yet he was quick to shake it off.
“Seems it’s more like one special guest, but no matter! We’re still going to make this a night that the city itself won’t ever forget! The first and unfortunately, only, live concert by the one and only DJ Horns!” He was met with gasps of surprise and even a couple cries of despair at this bombshell. “I know, I know! But there’s a reason for this, my dear fans. Because after tonight, you’ll all know the man behind the mask and I’m sure you’ve all been dying to know who it is. Am right?!” DJ Horns teased, hands reaching for his helmet.
The manic energy of the entire building seemed to escalate to almost out of control levels at that announcement, people scrambling for their phones to get the chance of capturing his face before anyone else. Green would have been among them if that uneasy feeling hadn’t begun to grow into full on paranoia, as if his very being could sense that the other shoe was about to drop. He was so tense that Green felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong,” he chanted to himself, his grip tightening to an unbearable degree as DJ Horns finally pulled off his helmet.
Unfortunately for him and everyone else, he wasn’t wrong.
His heart practically stopped as his eyes were welcomed by an unfortunately familiar face: spiked brown hair held up by a golden circlet styled like horns, dark eyes framed in orange and red pigment, and a fanged grin that promised nothing but trouble.
Demon Kid.
And his grin only became larger once he took in the shocked silence, particularly Green’s horror ridden face. He looked extremely pleased with himself as he took advantage of everyone struggling to process what was going on to prepare for the final phase of his plan.
And would it be a sweet victory for him.
“Oh, I’m going to treasure that look on your face for the rest of my life, Dragon Boy. It’s certainly a shame that the Noodle Girl couldn’t join in on the party but, eh, she’ll come eventually.” Green had finally overcome his horror, sword in his hands and making a mad dash towards Demon Kid on the stage. Yet the demon remained unaffected as he put on the finishing touches. “Because by the time I’m done, everyone in this whole city will be dancing for my king like my puppets. Starting with all you!” 
And with that, Demon Kid put the volume at max and blasted the entire building with his music. The sheer force of the sound sent Green flying back, crashing into now abandoned seats as people attempted to escape. However, to their horror, all the doors were locked and barricaded. Leaving them trapped and at the mercy of the music assaulting their ears from all sides and one by one, civilians fell to the floor as they tried their hardest to muffle the noise. Yet as if a sentient force, the melody managed to slither its way in and overwhelmed people’s senses like a tidal wave with one simple but overpowering command.
And that command was to obey.
Green climbed to his feet in a daze, struggling to focus with the sheer volume and the strange whispering that seemed to be coming from nowhere and everywhere. And already Green could feel his mental walls crumbling, he wasn’t going to last long before he succumbed to the strange power.
Mei.
He had to warn Mei.
He scrambled for his phone, barely able to take him the most recent message from Mei stating she was heading back to get her ticket back from Pigsy. Clumsy fingers fumbled to type out a warning and relief flooded his nerves once the message was sent.
And just in time as Green found himself being dogpiled by multiple people, their eyes glowing a hollow and ominous red. He struggled yet the mental strain of fighting to keep control left him weak and vulnerable, sword just out of his reach. Impish chuckling invaded his ears and before he knew it, Demon Kid was right there. And while the demon typically only had a couple inches on Green, now he downright loomed over him and radiating smugness.
“Still fighting huh Dragon Boy? Almost impressive! But there’s no point in fighting anymore, the spell will wear you down one way or another. So save your energy, you’ll need it when you and Noodle Girl help me conquer this city in the name of my king. It’ll be awesome, just you wait!” The childlike giddiness would almost be endearing if Green wasn’t fighting a mental battle that he had no chance in winning, not against this kind of magic.
“Mei’ll stop you, she always does,” he grit out, eyes already taking on a faint red glow.
“Oh I wouldn’t be so sure of that, after all I’d like to see her fight against her best friend when he’s under my control. But that’s not for you to worry about. Now, give in Dragon Boy,” Demon Kid commanded and like that, Green found himself being pulled under into a strange haze, only able to think of obeying the commands of his puppetmaster. The demon couldn’t help the joyous laugh as he watched Green’s eyes become red much like the rest of his little army.
Mei had been driving like a madwoman towards the concert the moment she read Green’s text.
“it’s demon kid using spell to hypnotize people don’t have time can already feel control slipping need to destroy his set up and stop the music before he gets city”
“I swear if he’s hurt Green, I will make him wish he stuck with making music,” she hissed to herself before letting out a growl at another red light slowing her down. “To hell with this.” Mei summoned the staff, slamming one end against the street and keeping a tight grip as the staff extended, sending her and the cart sailing above the streets below.
Mei barely flinched at the rough landing in front of the building, only feeling a flash of guilt at the state of the cart. She could pay Pigsy back for the damages later. Staff held tight in her grip and headphones on to buy herself time, Mei was ready for anything. And upon taking notice that all the doors appeared to be either locked or blocked, she did the next best thing to get inside.
Pole vault and smash her way through a window, miraculously not cutting herself on the glass.
She tumbled forward upon landing and took in the scene before her.
Her headphones certainly didn’t stop her from feeling the bass practically rock the foundation of the place yet what Mei found more worrisome were the people. Instead of rushing to attack her, they were all dancing to the beat of the song and looked almost perfectly normal. Except they were all too in sync and choreographed, as if Mei found herself in a music video than anything else. A shiver traveled down her spine as they all seemed to be watching her yet gave her a wide berth to catch sight of the stage.
Her blood boiled at the sight of Demon Kid, perched at his station but wiggling about showing he was barely able to sit still in anticipation.
“There you are, you had me waiting forever for you to get here!” He exclaimed, almost happy to see Mei before he caught himself and schooled his expression back to a businesslike indifference. “Not that it matters, you’ll be joining the Dragon Boy soon enough and we can start taking over this city!”
“Not while I have these headphones on, asshole!” Mei screamed over the music before rushing towards the stage, ready to smash Demon Kid’s equipment to pieces. It was only out of a vague sense of danger which flared in the back of her head and dodging at the right time that she managed to evade being skewered in the side by a sword.
The sight of Green, eyes lifeless red and moving around as if a stiff marionette being led around on strings, was definitely one that Mei was going to see in her nightmares for who knows how long.
Leaping to dodge another swipe of Green’s sword, Demon Kid’s cackle seemed to echo in sync with the music.
“Well then we’ll just have to rip those headphones off your pretty head ourselves! Minions, if you please!” Following the demon’s command, the hypnotized civilians stopped their dancing and attacked.
And Mei soon found herself swarmed and being attacked on all sides. It soon became more of a deadly game of tag, keeping herself out of the reach of her countless pursuers and evading Green’s relentless attacks. She was running out of time and space, she needed to think of a plan.
Fast.
Her eyes soon caught sight of the stage lighting above Demon Kid’s set and it was as if a lightbulb went off in her head.
It was risky and she only had one shot.
But Mei was always one for risk.
With a quick change in direction, Mei dashed towards the center of the swarm and just before she was pulled in, she took aim and threw the staff towards the stage lights. She could only be left to hope that she didn’t miss as a hand grabbed her ankle, only to be face to face with Green. His blank face now alight with a victorious grin before they were left tumbling along the floor in a desperate bid to grab one another.
Mei grunted as she found herself pinned down by Green, the neon lights causing his sword to gleam with menace as he held the tip to her throat. His other hand ripped off her headphones without mercy and her own ears were overwhelmed by the music.
“C’mon staff, don’t let me down,” she said, doing her best to fight as the spell soon attempted to creep its way in her head too.
“Well done, my dear puppet,” Demon Kid congratulated Green, pride practically emanating from his being. “Any last words, Noodle Girl?” His victory was practically guaranteed now and he couldn’t wait to see the look on his king’s face.
Which only made the demon confused at the sight of Mei’s smirk, her eyes focused upwards.
“Yeah. Might want to look above.”
“What?” Demon Kid did so and his heart stuttered at the sight of the spinning staff pinballing across the walls before colliding with the heavy duty wires which held the stage lights.
And cut through them without ease.
Without any suspension, the stage light rig surrendered to the forces of gravity. Demon Kid hurriedly dived off the stage to save himself, narrowly missed being squished by the rig. Unfortunately, his music equipment was not granted the same luck and was crushed in a shower of sparks, cutting off the music.
Blissful silence took over the area and Mei let out a sigh of relief as the sensation of something prying at her mind vanished like mist. And she couldn’t help a smile as the red vanished from Green’s eyes, signifying the end of Demon Kid’s control on him. He let out a groan, crawling back to consciousness as if waking up from the world’s worst nap, before realizing where he was.
“Mei? What happened? Are you okay?” Green was quick to get off Mei and help her back to her feet. She simply gave him a hug, content to see him safe and sound now. He accepted the hug without complaint, feeling less like he was struggling to gather his ability for free will again after having it ripped away. They were quick to break away as flames licked at their backs and they were faced with Demon Kid, his hair now flames as he took in his now ruined DJ equipment.
The duo took fighting stances, only for the demon to take a deep breath and have his hair to return to normal.
“Well, looks like you both got me beat this time. Here I thought I had it all in the bag but then you pulled that off-the-wall solution out of nowhere! And I admit, it looked cool as hell! I’ll give you two this win, here’s a little something for it,” Demon Kid said before tossing a bundle their way, which Mei caught with a look of caution from Green before they unwrapped it. To their mutual surprise, it was two letterman jackets emblazoned with the DJ Horns logo on the back and sleeves.
Before they could question him on this, Demon Kid gave the two a cheeky week before vanishing in a whirlwind of fire and smoke.
After a moment of stunned silence, Mei wordlessly took one of the jackets and put it on.
“After all that, you’re still willing to wear anything associated with DJ Horns?”
“Hey, this is merch I’ve never seen before and you gotta admit, we’d make this look good.” She even struck a pose to prove her point.
With a resigned groan, Green followed suit by putting on the other jacket and silently agreed that the jackets did make them look pretty good.
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