#of r unheard of (wait until I tell you about our life where (I don’t think this was the start but an important moment) I literally watched
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~ Erileck moments ~
Becauseeee ~ I wanna treat myself to something good today and I wanted to share some of my relationship with anyone who’s curious. Didn’t wanna clog your dashes so I put everything I wanted to share all together.
Under a cut so people can skip the self-shippy stuff if they wanna!!🥺💜
Word count: 2, 227. (Holy shit???)
(My favourite Joker moment asdfghjk makes me wanna go F E R A L )
Sometimes when I want Joker’s attention but I don’t know how to ask for it, I’ll sit down beside him and I’ll lean my head against his upper arm. Lightly at first, barely touching him. Working out his reaction. If he stiffens up, I’ll pull away. I know what he is saying. If he remains the same, I relax a bit more. And then a bit more. A few moments later and I’ve got my head on his shoulder. If he kisses the top of my head in response, some of my hair sticking to his greasepaint, it means I found him from wherever he was inside of himself. If he lets me sit there but he doesn’t kiss me, it means he wants me to stay but he can’t, or won’t, for whatever reason, reciprocate. And that’s okay. I know he’ll talk to me when he’s ready and not before. I’ll wait, however long it takes.
We play peekaboo every night. Every night. It makes me giggle when he does it so it’s a win-win situation for the both of us. I always hide my smile; even a slight upwards twitch of my lips or when I know there’s a laugh coming, I’ll put a hand over my mouth and my hand will not move until it’s gone. Joker hates that, it makes him angry. But instead of showing his anger, because he knows I can’t handle that or even any kind of confrontation, we play peekaboo. “Where’s my Erika, hm?” and he’ll gently wrap his fingers around mine and tug my hand away from my mouth. “There she is! There’s that smile I love so much.” I get so embarrassed and I feel silly but Joker - Arthur - is the only one I’ll let myself be like this with.
Joker’s my clown blanket. Every night. I cannot and I will not sleep without my clown blanket. I have my comfort cushion cradled to my chest and Joker knows I won’t let go of it, not even for a game of peekaboo (he tried, once, to swap out my cushion, which looks like his suit, “for the real thing” during a game of peekaboo but I wasn’t having it). So when he lays atop me so we both can sleep, my comfort cushion becomes his pillow and we sleep like that. If either Joker or my cushion leaves me in the night, I’ll wake up and it’ll be hard for me to get back to sleep until I’m holding them again. I have a fear of the dark and an active imagination and a love of horror, so those three things make sleeping difficult sometimes, even with my night lights.
Joker can’t sit with his legs crossed when I’m around because he knows that his lap is my seat. If he’s genuinely busy or not in the mood or if he wants alone time, then that’s one thing and I won’t push; he can find me when he’s ready to, no questions asked. But when he’s in a good mood or when I’m needing some comfort, it’s not unusual for me to descend upon my crimson throne and stay there for hours. I’ll lean forward and shift around to get Joker a cigarette, his journal, a snack off the table or a lighter, or maybe even the remote, but I won’t move. His lap is my favourite seat in the entire apartment and if he crosses his legs when I’ve only just vacated my spot, then I’m asking for it back by putting my hand on his knee and pushing (gently) down. Move for me? Is the question. Joker’s genuine smile is always my answer.
Joker has a gun. He never checks if it’s loaded or if the safety catch is on, and it gives me a heart attack every single time. Once, I walked in on him with it pointed underneath his chin. I moved across the room so damn fast that I surprised myself. “Get. That fucking gun. Away from your face. Now.” A knowing, weary look from Joker but he did as I demanded. Nothing else was said but just as he thought he’d gotten away without me addressing the situation, I grabbed the gun and pointed it at me. I had no other way of getting my point across that it is not a good way to express himself so I could only put him in my shoes and let that make the message sink in. It was emotionally stressful for the both of us and many tears were shed, but I made him promise me to let me help him find another healthier way to express himself. He made me promise I wouldn’t ever pull a stunt like that again. As yet, we’ve both kept our promises. I’m still not sure I did the right thing but what more could I do?
Joker and I have a deal. If I eat, he eats. If I sleep, he sleeps. If I do exceptionally well in taking care of myself, then I get rewarded with Joker applying his makeup on me. If Joker does well in taking care of himself, then he gets rewarded with me wearing the suit which looks like his. It’s unusual but neither of us ever really take care of our own selves. In taking care of each other, we are then cared for properly and it works out well for us. We get frustrated with each other if we don’t take good care of ourselves, which is why we formed this deal with one another. It was Joker’s idea. He didn’t expect me to say yes but he also knows that I won’t ever say no to him (though I take great care to not enable his bad habits or behaviours and I do my best to help him properly) so really, he should have expected me to say yes. I never expected him to propose the deal but I’m so glad he did because I sleep so much easier knowing he’s being taken care of and I suspect it’s the same in reverse, too.
I drink coffee at the same rate he smokes. My eighteen cups a day against his own habit. Coffee and cigarettes is where most of our money goes, and whenever I buy myself some coffee, I grab Joker a multipack of cigarettes, too. I don’t like the habit but I won’t deny him one of his vices. Joker wouldn’t ever deny me coffee, either. When he lights a cigarette, his eyes automatically check the level of coffee in my mug. From the time I get up to the time I go to bed, my coffee mug is never cold. Music is the only vice we share and it’s the one we indulge in together every single night. That’s Life is my favourite song and Joker calls it the “Erika Mood Checker”. If I don’t smile or squeal or fold in on myself from fangirling so hard, he knows I need some extra lovings. To date, there’s only been three times in the year we’ve known each other that the song hasn’t gotten a reaction out of me so it’s a serious sign if I don’t at least smile.
We don’t give up on each other. Ever. I have pulled Joker out of the fridge more times than I care to admit to, and he’s literally pulled me up to standing from the bathroom floor more times than he can remember. If the other person won’t get out of the fridge or won’t get up off the floor, the other sits down and stays there. No talking, no touching... just a silent and comforting presence until the other person is ready. We know each other so well that so much of what we communicate about stays silent between us. We don’t need to talk - everything’s in our eyes.
Grabbing the other’s face and saying “I love you” a gazillion times and smothering them in kisses is a daily practice. It makes us both cry when I do it to him. I get upset because I’m so overjoyed to be able to love on Joker as he deserves to be, and Joker cries because how did I ever get so lucky, Erika? When Joker does it to me, it makes him giggle, his lips vibrating against my skin, and I cry because that’s my go-to expression of self. I’m a cryer, I always have been. It doesn’t matter who’s getting loved on, it’ll end up with the both of us crying and the both of us laughing through our tears and wiping the others’ away. We’re very, very affectionate with each other.
Joker has only ever raised his voice at me once. I did something really stupid, I grabbed a saucepan off the stovetop without a towel to shield my hands and I didn’t even think about it (I’m clumsy), and he yelled my name. It sounded like a command and I jumped. I have trauma around raised voices and shouting and conflict and I ended up hiding under the duvet on our bed in tears. It took Joker two hours to coax me out from my hiding place and another three days for me to relax and to realise that he wasn’t mad at me in secret. I really scared Joker during that time and now, if he gets mad at me or is projecting his anger, he very carefully tells me to give him some space because “Joker’s mad, doll, and I don’t want you getting caught up in it”. He seeks me out when he’s no longer angry, I won’t go to him because he asked for space so that means that he has to be the one to look for me when he’s done. No questions asked and everything accepted without judgement. By the same courtesy, though, I shut myself away when I’m angry and Joker leaves me to it. I find him when I’m done, and that’s that. That’s not to say that we don’t support each other, because we do, but Joker never wants to see me scared of his anger again so we make steps to protect the both of us.
We play a game called “who’s got the best bruise?”. Both of us are clumsy and every night we lay in bed before we go to sleep and we ‘show off’ our bruises, making up possibilities of where they came from. Joker’s are deliberately outlandish, to make me laugh (with his hand coincidentally holding mine so I can’t hide my smile), and mine are always really silly, natural moments like, “I bounced off the doorframe because I was excited to see you”. Severe bruises are of course treated with ointment and kissed, so that the love can seep into the skin and speed up the healing (I tell Joker things like that because he never received that kind of comfort in childhood and I try to make up for that).
Sometimes I force myself to watch his segment on the Murray show. He was in so much pain and he was having a national breakdown on television and he was only mocked and unheard, unseen. So when I have doubts about our love or when I just need to remember, I make myself watch it. I always break into tears when he says “the same way you decide what’s funneh or not”. The way his voice cracks on those three words does something to me. Joker just sighs knowingly and affectionately, but also in a painful way because he’s still hurting deeply. He sits beside me and kisses my tears away and begs me to turn it off, but I can’t. I have to see him and his pain. He deserves that, at least. He knows why I do it and I know that he knows that, too. It’s something I have to do sometimes, even though he hates that I do it to myself.
There is nothing we won’t do for each other. That’s not to say I enable him (I do my best not to) or encourage his bad habits and behaviours (I want for him to get the help he needs and I’ll be there for him no matter what), but I would defend him in a heartbeat and I’d set the entire world on fucking fire if it would make Joker smile. I love him and I never let him doubt that for even a second. Joker would burn down the city for me if I asked him to. He cannot stand the thought of me even doubting what we share and it upsets and angers him every time he knows my thoughts have gone down that road. I would light myself on fire to keep him warm, knowing all the while that he’d never ask that of me. Joker would hand me a loaded gun and tell me to point it at him. He’d keep his eyes shut and know I would much rather turn that gun on myself. We have our moments of miscommunication but neither of us would ever hurt the other. Not for anything or anyone. Both of us are full of pain and rage but also of love and we are whole persons on our own but together we complement each other perfectly. Gotham got what it deserved and now so do the both of us.
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15th March >> Mass Readings (Except USA)
Monday, Fourth Week of Lent - Proper Readings
(see also The Man Born Blind)
(Liturgical Colour: Violet)
First Reading
Isaiah 65:17-21
Be glad and rejoice for ever at what I am creating
Thus says the Lord: Now I create new heavens and a new earth, and the past will not be remembered, and will come no more to men’s minds. Be glad and rejoice for ever and ever for what I am creating, because I now create Jerusalem ‘Joy’ and her people ‘Gladness.’ I shall rejoice over Jerusalem and exult in my people. No more will the sound of weeping or the sound of cries be heard in her; in her, no more will be found the infant living a few days only, or the old man not living to the end of his days. To die at the age of a hundred will be dying young; not to live to be a hundred will be the sign of a curse. They will build houses and inhabit them, plant vineyards and eat their fruit.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 29(30):2,4-6,11-13
R/ I will praise you, Lord, you have rescued me.
I will praise you, Lord, you have rescued me
and have not let my enemies rejoice over me.
O Lord, you have raised my soul from the dead,
restored me to life from those who sink into the grave.
R/ I will praise you, Lord, you have rescued me.
Sing psalms to the Lord, you who love him,
give thanks to his holy name.
His anger lasts a moment; his favour all through life.
At night there are tears, but joy comes with dawn.
R/ I will praise you, Lord, you have rescued me.
The Lord listened and had pity.
The Lord came to my help.
For me you have changed my mourning into dancing:
O Lord my God, I will thank you for ever.
R/ I will praise you, Lord, you have rescued me.
Gospel Acclamation
cf. Psalm 129:5,7
Praise and honour to you, Lord Jesus!
My soul is waiting for the Lord,
I count on his word,
because with the Lord there is mercy
and fullness of redemption.
Praise and honour to you, Lord Jesus!
Or:
cf. Amos 5:14
Praise and honour to you, Lord Jesus!
Seek good and not evil so that you may live,
and that the Lord God of hosts may really be with you.
Praise and honour to you, Lord Jesus!
Gospel
John 4:43-54
Go home: your son will live
Jesus left Samaria for Galilee. He himself had declared that there is no respect for a prophet in his own country, but on his arrival the Galileans received him well, having seen all that he had done at Jerusalem during the festival which they too had attended.
He went again to Cana in Galilee, where he had changed the water into wine. Now there was a court official there whose son was ill at Capernaum and, hearing that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judaea, he went and asked him to come and cure his son as he was at the point of death. Jesus said, ‘So you will not believe unless you see signs and portents!’ ‘Sir,’ answered the official ‘come down before my child dies.’ ‘Go home,’ said Jesus ‘your son will live.’ The man believed what Jesus had said and started on his way; and while he was still on the journey back his servants met him with the news that his boy was alive. He asked them when the boy had begun to recover. ‘The fever left him yesterday’ they said ‘at the seventh hour.’ The father realised that this was exactly the time when Jesus had said, ‘Your son will live’; and he and all his household believed.
This was the second sign given by Jesus, on his return from Judaea to Galilee.
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monday of the Fourth Week of Lent - The Man Born Blind
(Liturgical Colour: Violet)
First Reading
Micah 7:7-9
The Lord will bring me out into the light
For my part, I look to the Lord,
my hope is in the God who will save me;
my God will hear me.
Do not gloat over me, my enemy:
though I have fallen, I shall rise;
though I live in darkness,
the Lord is my light.
I must suffer the anger of the Lord,
for I have sinned against him,
until he takes up my cause
and rights my wrongs;
he will bring me out into the light
and I shall rejoice to see the rightness of his ways.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 26(27):1,7-9,13-14
R/ The Lord is my light and my help.
The Lord is my light and my help;
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
before whom shall I shrink?
R/ The Lord is my light and my help.
O Lord, hear my voice when I call;
have mercy and answer.
Of you my heart has spoken:
‘Seek his face.’
R/ The Lord is my light and my help.
It is your face, O Lord, that I seek;
hide not your face.
Dismiss not your servant in anger;
you have been my help.
R/ The Lord is my light and my help.
I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness
in the land of the living.
Hope in him, hold firm and take heart.
Hope in the Lord!
R/ The Lord is my light and my help.
Gospel Acclamation
cf. Psalm 129:5,7
Praise and honour to you, Lord Jesus!
My soul is waiting for the Lord,
I count on his word,
because with the Lord there is mercy
and fullness of redemption.
Praise and honour to you, Lord Jesus!
Or:
cf. Amos 5:14
Praise and honour to you, Lord Jesus!
Seek good and not evil so that you may live,
and that the Lord God of hosts may really be with you.
Praise and honour to you, Lord Jesus!
Gospel
John 9:1-41
The blind man went off and washed himself, and came away with his sight restored
As Jesus went along, he saw a man who had been blind from birth. His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, for him to have been born blind?’ ‘Neither he nor his parents sinned,’ Jesus answered ‘he was born blind so that the works of God might be displayed in him.
‘As long as the day lasts
I must carry out the work of the one who sent me;
the night will soon be here when no one can work.
As long as I am in the world
I am the light of the world.’
Having said this, he spat on the ground, made a paste with the spittle, put this over the eyes of the blind man, and said to him, ‘Go and wash in the Pool of Siloam’ (a name that means ‘sent’). So the blind man went off and washed himself, and came away with his sight restored.
His neighbours and people who earlier had seen him begging said, ‘Isn’t this the man who used to sit and beg?’ Some said, ‘Yes, it is the same one.’ Others said, ‘No, he only looks like him.’ The man himself said, ‘I am the man.’ So they said to him, ‘Then how do your eyes come to be open?’ ‘The man called Jesus’ he answered ‘made a paste, daubed my eyes with it and said to me, “Go and wash at Siloam”; so I went, and when I washed I could see.’ They asked, ‘Where is he?’ ‘I don’t know’ he answered.
They brought the man who had been blind to the Pharisees. It had been a sabbath day when Jesus made the paste and opened the man’s eyes, so when the Pharisees asked him how he had come to see, he said, ‘He put a paste on my eyes, and I washed, and I can see.’ Then some of the Pharisees said, ‘This man cannot be from God: he does not keep the sabbath.’ Others said, ‘How could a sinner produce signs like this?’ And there was disagreement among them. So they spoke to the blind man again, ‘What have you to say about him yourself, now that he has opened your eyes?’ ‘He is a prophet’ replied the man. However, the Jews would not believe that the man had been blind and had gained his sight, without first sending for his parents and asking them, ‘Is this man really your son who you say was born blind? If so, how is it that he is now able to see?’ His parents answered, ‘We know he is our son and we know he was born blind, but we do not know how it is that he can see now, or who opened his eyes. He is old enough: let him speak for himself.’ His parents spoke like this out of fear of the Jews, who had already agreed to expel from the synagogue anyone who should acknowledge Jesus as the Christ. This was why his parents said, ‘He is old enough; ask him.’
So the Jews again sent for the man and said to him, ‘Give glory to God! For our part, we know that this man is a sinner.’ The man answered, ‘I don’t know if he is a sinner; I only know that I was blind and now I can see.’ They said to him, ‘What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?’ He replied, ‘I have told you once and you wouldn’t listen. Why do you want to hear it all again? Do you want to become his disciples too?’ At this they hurled abuse at him: ‘You can be his disciple,’ they said ‘we are disciples of Moses: we know that God spoke to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.’ The man replied, ‘Now here is an astonishing thing! He has opened my eyes, and you don’t know where he comes from! We know that God doesn’t listen to sinners, but God does listen to men who are devout and do his will. Ever since the world began it is unheard of for anyone to open the eyes of a man who was born blind; if this man were not from God, he couldn’t do a thing.’ ‘Are you trying to teach us,’ they replied ‘and you a sinner through and through, since you were born!’ And they drove him away.
Jesus heard they had driven him away, and when he found him he said to him, ‘Do you believe in the Son of Man?’ ‘Sir,’ the man replied ‘tell me who he is so that I may believe in him.’ Jesus said, ‘You are looking at him; he is speaking to you.’ The man said, ‘Lord, I believe’, and worshipped him.
Jesus said:
‘It is for judgement
that I have come into this world,
so that those without sight may see
and those with sight turn blind.’
Hearing this, some Pharisees who were present said to him, ‘We are not blind, surely?’ Jesus replied:
‘Blind? If you were,
you would not be guilty,
but since you say, “We see,”
your guilt remains.’
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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A Second Chance: Chapter 5
An Ace Attorney fanfic. Read on both AO3 and FF.net!
Summary: Miles learns the identity of his “dead” mother, and the aftermath of that revelation is a tricky one. Especially when his newfound little sister is trying to turn him into a spirit medium.
AKA Miles is a Fey. Miles also doesn’t really know how to family properly.
[Chapter 1] | [Chapter 2] | [Chapter 3] | [Chapter 4]
Comments make my day! :D
The Promise
You’d assume, being a prosecutor, that one would get used to the atmosphere of a prison. Perhaps many do. Miles, however, doubted he ever could. Not when he knew that there were so many stories confined in its walls, many of them probably stories of injustice. It made him nauseous to think that he was so close to being in one of these himself.
If Phoenix Wright hadn’t intervened.
Waiting in a private visiting room, he couldn’t help but keep his gaze fixed on the ground. He couldn’t deny it- he was nervous to meet the man. They hadn’t really met each other before, but both unknowingly played a part in each other’s story, therefore it sort of felt like it was overdue.
The door on the other side of the glass finally clicked and opened. Miles looked up to see Diego Armando enter, clad in the black and white striped prison uniform with his head still held high. He was wearing his infamous visor, which he couldn’t help but feel relieved at. It was a special request from him that he be permitted to wear it during the visit, although he wasn’t sure if they would grant it. At least the man could see his expression when he told him the news.
“Miles Edgeworth,” Armando said as he slowly sat down in the chair on the other side of the glass (though somewhat visibly disorientated presumably due to suddenly being given his visor) with a small smile appearing on his face. His voice was deep and rough from misuse. “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Miles cleared his throat. “Hello, Mr. Armando. I-”
“Stop shaking, Mr Prodigy. From what I’ve heard you’re no caffeine addict, so there’s no need to act like one.”
Had he been shaking?
In truth, Godot’s story hit a little too close to home for Miles, even before he knew that he had killed his mother. For one thing, to watch Phoenix Wright accuse a prosecutor in court is not something to be taken lightly. It was unheard of, until his own trial where the prosecutor was found guilty of killing his father. Manfred Von Karma. More recently, Diego Armando had been found guilty of killing Maya’s mother, coincidentally also with Phoenix acting as defence.
That man seemed to be a truth magnet.
After that trial, he’d gained a newfound sympathy for Maya. He’d never really known how to tell her properly, but losing a parent in that fashion is not an experience shared by many. Little did he know that they would soon have to both experience each other’s pain with the revelation that they were siblings.
And the white-haired man sitting behind the glass killed their mother. It was hard not to keep thinking of that.
He cleared his throat again. “I’m sure you’re aware of the Kurain Channeling Technique?”
Diego snorted. “Too well.” Was his curt reply.
“Well,” Miles continued, “after an important conversation with her, Mia Fey sent me here.”
Suddenly Armando stiffened, and his relaxed demeanor morphed into one of importance. His posture straightened, his shoulders tensed. It was almost comedic how the mention of one name could change his entire attitude. Almost.
“Why…” he whispered, perhaps to himself, “why isn’t she the one here?”
“Because the matter at hand doesn’t entirely concern her.” Miles responded honestly.
Armando didn’t reply. Miles took that as a signal to continue.
“She told me that you had once studied under my father, Gregory Edgeworth.”
Diego sighed. “I did, but not for long.” A wistful smile pulled at his lips. “The tricks he taught me lingered in my mind everywhere I went. I was young, reckless,” he stifled a humourless laugh, “and it took a lot of convincing to get him to take on a penniless runt like me.”
He turned his head towards him, and Miles could only assume that he was looking him in the eyes. All he got was the glare of the red visor.
“He caved in the end, if only because he wanted to practise on teaching a cub like me before he did it with his own son. Hmm, he talked about you all the time.”
“I see.”
“I taught everything he taught me to Mia, you know. She must’ve taught it to Phoenix Wright.” He laughed quietly. It was an unsettling, hollow sound. “That was probably what got me in the end. Good old Greg, always searching for justice, even from beyond the grave.”
He paused, and the smile faded. “He was a good man. Better than you or I could ever hope of being.”
Miles didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know many people who knew his dad, so any praise (even if it was coming from a murderer) was highly valued.
“I suppose,” Miles said, once he was sure that his voice wouldn’t break, “that you were the messenger between father and daughter then.”
He sucked in a breath and waited for a response. Even without the visor, Armando was good at hiding emotion. His expression was blank as he processed what he’d just been told.
“...You’re kidding.” He said eventually.
“No.”
“Ha… I always saw a piece of Greg in her. I guess that wasn’t just me after all.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
The realisation hit a little too late. Whatever emotional barrier Armando had built for himself suddenly shattered in an instant. His perfected neutral expression turned into one of horror.
“Hold on, are you Misty’s-”
“Yes.”
“So you’re their-”
“Biological brother, yes.”
“God…”
Armando forced a grin. “I ruined another life that day, huh?”
It took all of his effort for Miles not to say “yes” to that too. So he kept silent. It was Diego who spoke next.
“I’m not gonna waste my sins with an apology, because I would be lying to you. I’m not sorry for what I did, as much as I try to be... Regret? Sure, a bit I guess. But I would do it again. I orphaned you and your sister, there’s no changing that.”
To be honest, Miles was expecting an apology when he came in here. However, now he was glad he didn’t get one. He didn’t want to feel sympathy for this man.
He just wanted to leave.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly, “for saving my sister.”
With that, he abruptly rose and made his way to the door, knocking on it sharply thrice. He accomplished what he came to do, and kept his word. That was all.
“Edgeworth.”
He turned to look at Armando, who in that time had removed his visor to reveal white, glossy eyes and a long, deep scar between them. Diego wasn’t looking directly at him, instead was staring straight ahead into the glass. It was a haunting sight.
“Tell Mia… tell her thanks for sending you. And… I want to see her. Please.”
Damn it. Sympathy.
“I’ll consider it.”
And he left.
~._-_.~
Ring-ring. Ring-ring.
“Hello?”
“Mystic Soma! Hi!”
“Mystic Maya! How are you since last time?”
“A lot better. So much better! I’ve kinda come to accept that even though Mom’s gone, she got justice in the end. I didn't even really know her so…”
“I hardly remember her too, but my mother says she was an incredibly nice woman, so she’ll be happy when I tell her. You sound a lot better than last week, I was starting to get worried about your health. You do realize that you’re the mast-”
“Hey Soma, is Pearly around? I’ve got some really important news to tell her, and I just can’t wait!”
“Oh, yes she is. Is it good news or bad news? Should I stay with her?”
“It’s awesome news! But yeah, I think you should stick around. You can pretend you’re cleaning or something like you used to do with me.”
“I did not!”
“You’re a horrible liar.”
“And you’re imagining things. Hold on, I’ll get Pearly for you.”
“Thanks!”
“Pearl! Come over here, Mystic Maya wants to speak to you!”
“...Pearly?”
“H-hi Mystic Maya.”
“Oh Pearly, you’re not still sad over my mom, are you? Mystic Soma told me you were feeling better!”
“...I told her to say that.”
“Oh, Pearly.”
“I-I-I’m sorry! I d-didn’t want to make you s-sad...”
“Nonono, don’t cry! I have some really cool news!”
“R-Really? What is it?”
“I found out who my dad was, and I have a brother!”
“What? B-But Mystic Maya-”
“I know! But that’s not even the best part!”
“Wha-who…?”
“Pearly, you’ll never believe it, but Edgeworth’s my brother! He’s your cousin!! He’s a part of our family!!!”
“...h-huh?”
“Mr Edgeworth’s your big cousin, Pearly! And yes, it is the one you’re thinking of. Tall but not that tall, weird dark hair, always looks like he wants to slam his face into a wall? Him! He’s-”
“No!”
“Huh? Pearly?”
“NO!!!”
“What? Pearly, what-”
“Mystic Maya, what did you say?!”
“Mystic Soma, I-”
“I’ve got to go, Pearly’s really upset.”
“I don’t-”
Click!
“...I don’t know what I said.”
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Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 2, daily life (Part 2)
Note of the author: Fun fact! This was one of the first scenes I imagined when I was making this AU. This is where the fun begins. :)
Chapter 2: The wolf and the lamb - Daily life
Day 6 since the beginning of the game.
7:30 AM.
Shuichi felt like he slept better than the previous night. The sun was shining through the window, it was enough to wake him up. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around his room, looking at nothing in particular.
It was then that he noticed something on the table of his room. A colorful pad that didn’t look like his monopad.
He took the tablet to take a look at it. There was written “Kubs pad” on the back. He frowned, and when he touched the screen, the tablet lightened up and a video started playing.
On the screen he could recognize his own silhouette on a teal-blue background, with written in flashy letters:
Shuichi Saihara’s Motive video
What is your motive!?
And Monokuma’s voice talking cheerfully. “Alright! Back by popular demand, it’s time for the motive video! Who’s the most imp-”
Shuichi turned off the tablet. He stared at the turned off gadget with wide eyes.
“What even was that?” he asked himself. Perhaps talking to the others about it would be a good idea.
He got dressed up, put the strange tablet in his pocket and left his room.
Keebo was in the hallway, with a similar tablet in his hand.
“Hello Shuichi. Nice to see you up.”
Shuichi’s eyes were still on the tablet. “You got one of these too?”
Keebo looked at the item. “Yes, it was on the table this morning, when I was done charging. However I turned it off when I saw ‘motive video’.”
The other boy sighed in relief. “I’m not alone then.”
The two went to the dining hall. Tsumugi, Korekiyo, Kirumi, Ryoma and Rantaro were already here. There was a pile of 5 of those tablets on the table.
Korekiyo sipped his tea and put down his cup. “You also had those ‘motive videos’ I see.”
Keebo showed his’. “I can see that you gathered the tablets. Do we have to put them here?”
Rantaro shrugged. “The others didn’t watch theirs either, so for now we’re putting them here until we decide what to do with them.”
Ryoma was tapping his fingers on the table. “Kokichi went back to his dorm to get his. Speaking of which...”
The small boy appeared with his tablet. “I got it.”
The three put their tablets with the others. All they could do was wait for the others.
Shuichi wasn’t too much in the mood to talk, so he listened to the nearby conversations. Maki was talking about how she thought she had a strange dream but didn’t remember any of it, Ryoma and Rantaro were talking about the latter’s lab and Kirumi was telling Keebo about traditional meals she learned to cook for her job.
About 15 minutes after the morning announcement, everyone was there, and all of the tablets were reunited.
Angie was swinging her legs under the table. “Shall we watch all those videos together? At least we’re sure no one hides anything from anyone!”
Kirumi was visibly not pleased. “If those videos are about the most important people in our lives, watching them would mean falling into Monokuma’s trap.”
Ryoma looked up to the maid. “Stop sugarcoating this. I’m sure at least one of us already watched their video and decided to pretend they didn’t.”
Kokichi’s voice was almost unheard. “I would still like some privacy...”
Everyone started debating. Rantaro suddenly got up and asked for everyone’s attention.
“I understand some of us want some privacy about our personal lives, but those videos will probably make us remember important elements from our past and perhaps the Ultimate hunt, and we can’t exactly completely ignore them.”
He continued. “I discussed the issue with Korekiyo to know what could be a good compromise to reach. Some of us would like to keep their life private, which I understand perfectly, since we didn’t live through the same things. However it is a risk we have to take if we want to recover at least a bit of our own memories.”
Kirumi raised an eyebrow. “So? What is this solution you suggest?”
Korekiyo responded. “We create groups of 3 or 4 people trusting each other enough to show their videos to the group. We fix a moment to watch those videos, and after that no one is allowed to talk to anyone outside their group about what they saw in the others’ video. Of course you can show your own video to the rest of us if you want to.”
Shuichi put a finger on his chin. That sounded like a doable plan. He didn’t have much to hide, but he hoped the more reserved people were okay with this.
“Do any of you have any objections? Please speak up if that’s the case. I wish to hear the opinion of everyone.” Rantaro’s voice sounded gentle yet confident. Shuichi would be lying if he said he didn’t envy him.
For about ten seconds everyone just glanced at each other. From Shuichi’s point of view, Kirumi and Kokichi were not comfortable, but were not saying anything. That, of course, didn’t stay undetected by the medic.
“Kirumi, do you wish to say anything?” he asked.
She sighed. “I would very much like my personal life not to be revealed to anyone, but I suppose I don’t have a choice.”
Rantaro fidgeted with his necklace. “Unfortunately it wouldn’t be fair to ask everyone else to reveal it and let one person watch the video by themselves. We established the rule that no one in the group was allowed to talk about what they saw in the others’ video outside of their group.”
Everyone was staring at her at this point. “Fine. I accept.”
“What about you, Kokichi?” Rantaro asked.
The small teen got startled. “Oh, it’s just um... Do we really get to choose the groups?”
He smiled. “Yes, we’ll just try to make sure the groups are composed of 3 or 4 people of our choice.”
Himiko gave him a pat in the back. “If you want we can be together in a group, we just need someone else!”
He smiled faintly. “I... I accept, then.”
Rantaro exhaled a breath and smiled at the group. “At least we’re getting somewhere.”
It took them a while to decide, but the groups were formed.
The first group were Shuichi, Kaito, Miu and Korekiyo.
The second group were Kokichi, Himiko and Rantaro.
The third group were Ryoma, Kirumi and Keebo.
And the last group were Maki, Kaede, Tsumugi and Angie.
They decided to watch the videos the next day morning, to leave the groups more time to get to know each other better.
At least they managed to get through this, for now. Kaito asked where the tablets would go, in case someone tried to watch their video.
They decided to lock all the tablets in Rantaro’s lab. Since a majority of them trusted him, he was chosen to keep the key to the lab.
~ Time skip, my old friend ~
5 PM.
Shuichi couldn’t help but think about the motive videos Monokuma gave them this morning.
After spending some time alone in his lab, he decided to go outside for a bit. He came across Kokichi carrying a small bag and Himiko without her coat on, the cloth rather used like some sort of bag.
“Oh, hey Shuichi!” Himiko joyfully said.
Shuichi blinked in confusion. “What are you two doing?”
“We were with Kaede yesterday at the casino and somehow the machine we were playing with broke and gave us a ton of monocoins! So we’re using them.”
Kokichi scratched his neck. “I feel like I’m to blame for this...”
She giggled. “Don’t be sorry, we got all these cool items, and since the MonoMono machine broke as well we got to keep the coins we used!”
The smaller boy was embarrassed by the events that happened, but he didn’t look really sad about it.
“I mean Kaede got a ton of coins too, I think she bought some sort of key?” she shrugged. “I didn’t pay too much attention to it.”
Shuichi knew exactly what she meant, but preferred to stay silent about it.
“So you guys got all of those items from the MonoMono machine for free?”
Himiko smiled with glee. “Yup! And it was things either I or Kokichi liked! Cool, right?” she elbowed him.
Kokichi stuttered. “R-Right...”
The two went their way and Himiko waved at Shuichi. “See ya later!”
He didn’t really know what to do before dinner, so he joined Rantaro outside. They talked for a while before Kaito approached them.
“I was looking for you two!”
Shuichi blinked. “Do you need us for something, Kaito?”
“We’re gonna have drinks at the pool, wanna come?”
Rantaro got up and brushed off the dirt on his coat. “That would be nice. Who will be there?”
The biker looked enthusiastic. “There will be Miu, you two and I. Oh and Kiyo decided to join in as well.”
Shuichi sighed in relief. At least it wasn’t too much of a big thing. Not that he hated the others, but a hang-out session with a few “close” friends felt more comfortable for him than a giant party.
They walked to the pool and saw Kirumi and Miu holding drinks entering the building.
“Oh, Kirumi is joining too?” Shuichi asked.
Kaito shrugged. “We simply asked her to help us with the drinks, I don’t think she is gonna stay though.”
When they opened the door, the two young women were setting the drinks and snacks at the table.
Miu waved at them. “So you guys came, huh?”
Rantaro smiled. “I figured it would be nice to chat as a group of friends, so yeah.”
Kiyo was observing the pool area. Rantaro called him so they could sit down and chat.
Kirumi left, saying she didn’t want to disrupt their group, and that her task was done.
The drinks had bright colors, but that was to be expected by cocktails. Korekiyo took the glass in his hands to observe the gradient.
“We really should thank Kirumi for her hard work preparing these.”
Kaito laughed. “But hey, we won’t know if they’re good unless we drink!”
They all cheered, to forget about the killing game just for a few minutes.
Shuichi approached the drink to his nose to smell it. The alcohol smell was strong, but the fruit smell was able to cover it up a little.
He looked at the others, they hadn’t touched their drink yet. Rantaro and Korekiyo were talking about the pool area’s aesthetic, but Miu was looking at her drink with unease, and just when he was about to ask her what was wrong, her gaze shifted to Kaito approaching the glass to his lips.
It felt so sudden. Miu got up, slammed her hands on the table and yelled.
“DON’T DRINK THIS, IT’S POISONED!!”
The rest of the group was startled by the sudden reaction, especially Kaito, whose eyes shifted from the drink to his best friend, who had tears in the corner of her eyes and was visibly trembling.
There was a small moment of silence that felt like an eternity.
Rantaro was confused, but managed to mumble out “What are you-”
(BGM)
He didn’t finish his sentence when Miu abruptly sat back on her chair, elbows on the table and her hands covering her face. She broke down in tears, mumbling things to herself.
“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry-”
Kaito spoke up reluctantly. “Miu… What… How did you…”
The grip she had on her hair tightened. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here.
The boys looked at each other. No one really knew what to say. Rantaro smelled the drink and frowned. He made the others understand that it was definitely not alcohol for a cocktail.
Kiyo took a deep breath and set the glass down.
“Should we assume you are the one responsible for this?”
Miu’s head slowly fell down on the table, arms crossed to cover her head, and nails digging in her skin. She was still shaking and sobbing to herself, but she nodded.
“I’m… I…”
Shuichi was still trying to process what just happened. Did Miu just try to kill them? Rantaro looked pensive, Kiyo was silently observing the crying Miu and Kaito was shocked, to say the least. Shuichi felt bad, that must have felt like a huge betrayal for him. His best friend trying to kill him, and even if she seemed to regret it, the will to kill was there. In those colorful glasses.
It took her a while to even begin to calm down and cease the tear-filled muttering. When she raised her head just out of her arms, Shuichi noticed a part of her make up was smudged and her eyes were red. She didn’t even dare to look at any of them.
Since the others had been silent, Rantaro asked her the question everyone wanted to ask.
“Why…?”
She flinched at the question.
“I… Kaz… I’m- I’m sorry-”
She couldn’t even form a single sentence correctly through her sobs.
“Kaz… Would have never wanted this… What am I doing...?”
Korekiyo stayed calm and tried to interrogate her despite her current state. “Would you please tell us who is ‘Kaz’?”
She tried to recompose herself, unsuccessfully.
“Kaz…”
She rubbed her eyes.
“He’s- He’s my son- I watched my motive video this morning and I saw him and I knew I had to escape to protect him and I saw my chance with my lab opened and and-”
She was just rambling at this point. Kiyo told her to calm down one last time, but that made her completely enraged.
“HOW CAN YOU TAKE THIS SO LIGHTLY?? I TRIED TO KILL YOU ALL!!” she yelled at no one in particular, getting up from her chair, still in a panicked state.
“I-I-I tried to kill you all with homemade poison from my lab I organized this whole party to kill you and blame it on Kirumi and-and I didn’t even hesitate to do so because I watched my motive video and lied to you all but I just want to see my son again he needs me and I miss his precious face and and and-”
Tears were running down her face. She had completely broken down.
Kaito tried to get her attention but that turned out pretty unsuccessful.
“Miu, calm down! Look at me-”
“HE WOULD HAVE NEVER WANTED ME TO KILL ANY OF YOU!!”
Silence filled the building once again.
She fell on her knees and laughed to herself.
“What am I doing…?”
Kaito got up from his seat and got down to face Miu. He put his hands on her shoulders.
“This… Is a lot for me to take in, I will admit. To think my best friend tried to kill me.”
She winced at the last sentence.
“But that best friend also backed down and regrets what she has done. She did this for her family, and even though it will take a while for us to completely get over this, I can’t blame you for wanting to fight for your family.”
She looked up to him, but that didn’t seem to reassure her very much.
Shuichi himself was a bit doubtful by the statement. Of course the one to blame would be Monokuma and the mastermind for putting them through this but… At the same time he can’t help but feel like Miu really was responsible for this incident.
Kiyo seemed to be thinking. “I don’t think you are entirely to blame, but you still had your part in this. I think the best option would be to talk about this once all of us managed to stand back from the situation.”
Rantaro hadn’t say a thing. He didn’t look mad but he was certainly not happy.
Miu wiped away her tears. “I… I know this may sound selfish but…”
Rantaro turned to her.
“Can we… Keep this between us? I know I don’t deserve it but please…”
The others glanced at each other. Rantaro was stirring his glass. “What do you think, Shuichi? You’ve been quiet for a while.”
He was startled by Rantaro’s sudden question. His gaze wasn’t making things better either. “I- uh….” he paused. “I think… We should at least make sure the products used for this are taken away and the poison destroyed.”
Rantaro nodded. Shuichi turned to Kiyo. “And Kiyo’s right. I think it should be better not to make anym- any bad decisions with emotions taking control of us.”
Miu, sitting on the ground, clenched the trembling fists resting on her legs, tears filling her eyes even more. Those same emotions pushed her to act this way, and saying this just reminded her of her lack of self-control.
Rantaro stared at her for a few seconds before turning to the rest of the group. “So to sum this incident up, we keep quiet about this for now, destroy the materials and wait for tomorrow to decide what we do?”
The others nodded. Rantaro got up from his chair and briefly looked at the two best friends before turning to Shuichi.
“Us two should go to Miu’s lab to get rid of the materials. You okay with this Miu?”
Her eyes didn’t even move. She simply muttered. “Yes. Do what must be done. That’s… What I deserve at the very least.”
He gestured to Shuichi that they should go and leave them alone for now. The blue-eyed boy turned back to Miu one last time to see her wiping her tears with Kaito at her side.
They closed the door and headed to the lab. They had so many questions but both knew it would be better to wait for the next day to ask her about it. Or maybe Korekiyo, who stayed at the pool, would probably be able to get to know what was going on with her.
-
The walk was silent, just like the time the two were meeting the other ultimates about a week ago. But it felt different. They had just escaped death because their attacker didn’t manage to get through her plan. She was so close, if she reacted just a few seconds later and the situation would have been a disaster.
“Hey…” Shuichi said. Rantaro slightly turned his head.
“What do you think of all this? You didn’t say much back then…”
His friend took a few seconds to think about an answer. Or more likely, to wonder if his thoughts were worth being told.
“What is done, is done. Miu tried to kill us but couldn’t bring herself to actually do it. We’re alive and that’s what matters. We should focus on making sure no one else gets their hands on the poison.”
Shuichi’s eyes widened. He didn’t know what to expect, but it was certainly not this. “You… Actually don’t plan on telling anyone about this?”
“No.” He replied. “The less people know, the better it is. This entire academy reeks distrust and fear of being killed. If we talk about this incident the others will snap just like she did, and some probably won’t back down before actually committing the act.”
“That’s… One way to think.”
But Shuichi remembered what the monokubs said the day before. “But... The monokubs said they would refill products if someone tried to destroy them.”
Rantaro started thinking. “Honestly I don’t think that will be the case for certain situations. But for now just the prepared poison should be destroyed.”
Shuichi hummed in agreement. They were forced to trust Miu not to try anything again. They could only hope Kaito and Korekiyo would be able to calm her down for the time being.
Rantaro turned to him. “Ever wondered how you were able to guide the others during the class trial?”
He had thought about it, it was a bit strange to him. “I don’t really know why. Tsumugi said I was leading the debate but… I’m just an average guy. I’m a violinist, my talent doesn’t even have anything to do with leading. I’m bad at this.”
The green haired boy hummed. “You know, I talked about this with Kiyo, yesterday.”
Shuichi blinked.
“To him it was normal for the others to follow your lead. And I agree with that. I mean…” he chuckled.
“Let’s be honest here. We’re the two leaders of the group, you and I. But my influence is more… Direct. I got the group to cooperate, to get organized, you know the deal.”
“My influence has its limits. I think you realized it by now, but I saw how the others looked at me during the investigation and trial. I’m completely indifferent when it comes to people dying. I’m used to it after all.”
“Even just now, the reason I asked you to say what you think is because they would most likely listen to you.”
Shuichi was confused. “But why?”
“You have that compassion. That innocence the others have. You felt bad for Gonta dying. For Tenko dying. You have that kindness that I lack in those stressful situations. People are more drawn to you because of that natural kindness. That humanity. You can keep calm but still have that feeling of compassion. That’s what the others are looking for in the trials. Someone to relate to, who doesn’t sound and look like an experienced murderer.”
Shuichi was surprised to hear Rantaro talk about himself this way, but it made sense. Of course he wouldn’t try to take advantage of this in the future, however it felt strange to be considered a leader by Rantaro himself.
“That’s what Kiyo told me. That it was more about instinct than a concrete feeling.”
He nodded. Of course the therapist would know what he’s saying. Shuichi had to assume this role as a leader. A role that Rantaro couldn’t fill completely.
Rantaro stopped in his tracks.
“From now on that’s our job to keep this group together. This is gonna be hard, I know, but it’s necessary.”
He fidgeted with his necklace. “Let’s be honest here. We won’t all get out of here alive, and I’m 100% sure another murder will occur in the next few days. But if there’s anything I’m trying to do in those times, it’s to make sure the group doesn’t completely loose it.”
“You and I will be the leaders from now on. So I’m counting on you to help me with this.”
He extended his hand.
“Deal?”
After hesitating, Shuichi shook Rantaro’s hand.
“Deal.”
They arrived at the street artist’s lab. It was time to take away the products, even though they knew she wouldn’t try again after this incident.
It was just to make sure.
They entered the lab. Nothing looked like it had been touched yet from a quick glance, since everything was clean. Rantaro went to the lab bench. That’s when he noticed small droplets of water in some of the glassware.
“That was definitely used recently. At the very least today.”
“Do you think she has more of the poison in the lab?”
Rantaro shook his head. “Even though she planned this in a hurry, she still covered up the evidence. She most likely threw the surplus away. Perhaps...”
He turned to a white plastic bottle labeled “bin”. He grabbed it and stirred it for a few seconds to judge how much liquid was in there.
“There isn’t much, but it’s still something.” Rantaro said as he looked at the sink.
Shuichi frowned. “I know nothing about those products, but there’s a reason it’s kept in a separated bottle, right?”
The green-haired boy sighed. “I know, but it’s either someone gets their hands on this and could try to use it and frame Miu, or we risk polluting who knows where since we don’t know where those pipes lead.”
“Fair point.”
Rantaro poured the transparent liquid into the sink. It’s smell was stronger than the “cocktails” from earlier, most likely because there was fruit juice to cover it.
He went to one of the shelves and opened it to see many bottles labeled as toxic or inflammable. “As for the ingredients we can’t do much because the Monokubs will replace it, right?”
Shuichi nodded. “I don’t know when they’ll replace it, but they will do eventually.”
“I see.” he closed the drawer. “Then there isn’t much to do anymore for now.”
Rantaro didn’t say a thing as he walked to the exit, passing by Shuichi.
“Oh and...” he stopped in his tracks and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Tomorrow you and the rest of your group will watch Miu’s motive video. I’m not supposed to know about this, so from now on pretend this event never happened. I don’t know anything about her motive video and will not know about it unless she talks to me, and make sure to inform the others about this. Got it?”
Shuichi actually got scared by Rantaro’s sudden reaction, but he nodded. “G-Got it.”
Korekiyo entered the room right after.
“I see that you’re done with the ingredients?”
Shuichi approached the two others. “We did what we could do, but if we steal things the monokubs will refill it.”
The tall young adult put a finger on his chin. “I see. I’m also done talking to Miu, she is alone with Kaito as far as I know.”
Rantaro was quick to respond. “So? Has she calmed down?”
“We agreed on doing therapy sessions so she can cope with the situation. But of course that will be after we officially watch her motive video.”
He nodded. “Alright, we’re good to go for now. Oh and-” he turned to Shuichi.
“You two make sure we left nothing in the lab. I got something to check.” he said as he left.
Korekiyo asked if he could take a look at the lab. They stayed in it for a while, searching in every shelf if anything looked like poison.
After about 10 minutes, they left to join the rest of the group. They will have to pretending nothing happened.
They found Kaito and Miu going back to the dorms. Miu seemed to have calmed down enough for now.
Shuichi and Kiyo decided to stay outside to talk about something other than what just happened. Even though Kiyo had a threatening aura, it was pretty relaxing to talk to him. It’s like you almost wanted to trust him immediately. No wonder he was called the ultimate therapist.
About two hours later, they ate dinner. The atmosphere was tense, mostly because of the upcoming day, but the most cheerful ones were able to bring back a few smiles.
Shuichi decided to take a walk before going to bed. After all tomorrow he would watch Kaito, Korekiyo and of course Miu’s votive videos. He was nervous at the idea of this “motive video compilation”, but it was too late to go back.
But he had a gut feeling this wasn’t going to go as planned. Everything seemed way too convenient.
"You good?”
Shuichi got startled. It was Kaito, right behind him. “Don’t scare me like that...”
He laughed. “Sorry, man.”
Kaito sat down next to Shuichi. “Today was... Special.”
Shuichi nodded. “I don’t really know what to think about this. I don’t even know if I can trust her anymore.”
He nodded in understanding. “We... Talked after Kiyo left. But it’s like I both do and don’t get why she did this.”
“... I think we should let her talk to Kiyo. Either she is genuine in her regret, or Kiyo will be able to tell if she’s lying.”
Kaito leaned back to lay on the grass. “I really want her to say the truth. I want to believe in her.”
Shuichi turned to him. “If it’s not too personal, how did you two become friends so quickly?”
He chuckled. “We’re mutual fans, y’know? I’ve been admiring her work ever since she started and she is a fan of the family! We knew each other’s names and when we met here, it just sort of clicked.”
The violinist raised an eyebrow. “The family? Is she your long lost sister?”
“Haha, no! That’s how I call the gang. They’re like family, but like a man family. They taught me everything I know. I may have missing memories, but I never forget the family.”
Shuichi weakly smiled. “Man family? What is that supposed to mean?”
“We’re all men in the gang. It’s kinda like a rule. And if you’re not a man, then become one." He chuckled. “Manliest shit I’ve ever seen.”
Shuichi blinked. Perhaps he didn’t want to know more about the gang, considering that he is not exactly the definition of a ‘man’. But if Kaito considered them his family, then good for him.
The two went their ways, to their dorms. And hopefully wake up mentally prepared to watch those motive videos.
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Accompinamy - Kass x Reader ONESHOT
Do you like that pun in the title? Company? Accompaniment???? MUSIC????!!!
No? I didn't think so.
-----
"-Oh you were right!"
"Told ya!"
"Guys, stop playing with that thing! She's gonna wake up and see you!"
The sound of small children whisper-yelling at each other barely reached your senses. Still, somehow it was starting to piss off your subconscious. Being on the edge of wakefulness because of a group of high-pitched voices was something you weren't very fond of. But because they were children, you could turn a blind eye. They were pretty cute, after all.
You could not, however, ignore the painful screech that came from your flute, and you swiftly sat up to attention. You loved kids and their mischievous intentions most of the time, but your flute was off limits! No exceptions!
Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim surroundings of the cozy village home. You laid in a traditional Rito hammock which was clearly a last minute extra given to you by Kass. You didn't leave him much time to prepare for your arrival since he didn't even know you were coming.
In hindsight, maybe you should've just stayed at the inn...
You rubbed your eyes and called out to the Rito children huddled around your bag across the room. "Hey, don't you think it's a little early to be going through my things?"
All the little chicks jumped in surprise at the sound of your voice. They turned to you with their hands behind their backs, yelling in unison, "Nothing!"
"That wasn't even the question..." You mumbled under your breath. You hopped out of the hammock and went over to the five little girls. "So, which one of you has my flute?" You wondered.
The blue Rito chick slowly pulled the instrument from behind her back and handed it to you. "Sorry..."
"Thank you for giving it back." You said warmly. "Don't you girls sleep in? The sun is barely even up."
The girls shook their heads. "Nope! We always get up early!" The purple chick replied.
"Yeah, but papa gets up super early!"
You nodded slowly in understanding. That certainly sounded like Kass. "Do you know where he is now?"
"He's out on the landing probably playing music." One of the girls responded. You turned to leave the home when she stopped you. "Hey, do you love papa?"
You blinked in surprise at the extremely blunt question. "Uh, excuse me?"
"You heard me! Do you love our papa?"
"Well, that's a silly question." You giggled. "Of course I do. I wouldn't have traveled across the country just to see him if I didn't."
The Rito chick narrowed her eyes at you. "And how do I know you're not lying?" She asked suspiciously. All the other girls seemed to start getting cautious, too.
Without a second thought, you crossed your hand over your chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die!" The childish gesture seemed to convince the girls that you were telling the truth.
Right when you were ready to leave again, the blue feathered Rito spoke up. "But... how do you know you're in love?"
"Oh. Uh..." Well, Kass certainly knew how to raise interesting kids. But love was not a lesson you were qualified to give to children, especially not the ones of your boyfriend.
"Yeah! And what is that anyway?"
You rubbed your face with a groan. You really should've just stayed at the inn...
Finally, you decided to sit on the floor and wave the chicks over to you. "Alright, listen closely because I'm only having this conversation once." You said. "Love is... Well, I guess there are different levels to love. It's a little complicated."
"What do you mean?"
You shrugged. "Well, the way your dad loves me is a bit more different than how he loves you."
The purple feathered girl gasped. "He loves you more than us?!"
"No! No, of course not." You replied quickly. You've really dug yourself into a hole this time, (Name)... "There's platonic love, and then there's romantic love. Platonic is the way you love your sisters and your father. It's how you love your friends and family. You show it all the time and hardly even know it. Romantic is how your dad loves me. It's the kind of love you see in the plays or read in fairytales. I guess you could say it's the adult love and you shouldn't be romantic with anyone until you're older."
"It still kind of sounds like he loves you more...."
You giggled nervously and scratched your head. "But he doesn't. Both kinds of love are very similar in certain ways. No matter how we love him, the rooms he walks into become a little bit brighter. The food he makes tastes a little bit yummier. And the music he plays sounds just a little bit prettier than everyone else's." The children's faces lit up happily as you explained. "To put it simply, to love someone is like seeing the world with clear vision. Everything is better when the person you love is around!"
"I don't think I could've said it better even if I tried."
You jumped at the sound of Kass's voice and nervously turned your attention to the doorway. "Uh.... H-How long have you been there?" You asked as a small blush began to rise. "Y-You, um... You weren't there for the whole thing, r-right?"
Kass only smiled and leaned against the door frame. "The whole thing." He chuckled at your bright red face that was now hiding in your hands. Then, he turned to his adorable daughters. "Alright. Come here, little ladies."
"Papa!" They squealed and happily and hugged his legs. It almost looked like they were trying to climb him. "Play us a song pretty please!"
He laughed joyfully at their young eagerness. "Okay, okay! But some of the neighbors are still sleeping. Let's go down to the landing so we don't wake anyone."
"Yay!"
All the girls rushed out of the home, but Kass waited for you by the door. "(Name)? Are you coming as well?"
You lifted your head up, all of your previous embarrassment forgotten. "Oh, right." You stood up and followed Kass down to the landing deck and saw the girls already waiting for the two of you. They bounced around on the would floors impatiently, wishing you'd walk just a little faster.
Once you got there, you sat down and leaned against the wooden post, facing Kass and the rest of the village. The girls wasted no time resting against your arms and legs like you were a giant pillow. They all watched silently as Kass began to play his music just for them - and you. It was the melody of a lullaby fit for a princess... or five. With a loving smile, you pulled out your flute and lifted it to your lips. Then you began to play along with the already-beautiful song.
Before either of you knew it, the five girls were fast asleep leaning on you. The song ended quietly, and you rested your flute on your lap. "Your children are something else, y'know." You commented.
Kass chuckled. "Yes, I can agree they're certainly a handful. But I think they've taken a liking to you, (Name)."
"Oh right, you mean by rummaging through my bag at the break of dawn? I'm feeling the love." You replied sarcastically, but you still laughed. "But, I hope you're right... I'd much rather have them love me than hate me if that's possible."
Kass nodded in understanding. "Well, you taught them a lot this morning. Life lessons like that are what I think is most important, especially when growing up."
"Plus, it's easier to be taught these things when you're young rather than having to walk through life and figure it out for yourself. I can say from experience that it isn't really fun. I wouldn't want the girls to have to do that. Then again, I was alone during most of my journey, but they'd probably have each other." You rambled for a while before quickly stopping yourself.
"See? You'd be a great mom!" He laughed.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "We'll see about that. You're a great parent and a great musician. And while we're at it, you're also surprisingly a good cook-"
"Why would that be surprising?"
"-You're amazing at everything you do..." You smiled sadly while playing around with the instrument in your hands. "How do I compare to that?"
With a sigh, Kass put down his accordion and sat beside you and his daughters. "You shouldn't compare yourself to me or anyone else. If we all did that, we'd work ourselves into the ground trying to be as good as those around us. Instead, we should strive to be the best people we can be and contribute to the world in whatever way we can. At the end of the day, that's all we can really do to make the most of our lives."
You gratefully smiled up at him. "Thank you. That was really sweet, Kass." Then, you snorted and glanced down at the young girls laying on your arm. "Kinda wish they were awake to learn some of those valuable life lessons, huh?"
"I'm sure this will come up sometime in the future. I just hope I can remember what I said." He laughed. "But, I'll be there when they need me... They're a lot like you, y'know."
"In what regard?" You wondered, taking note of the suspicious glint in his eyes.
He tried to hold in the biggest grin ever as he said, "You help me see the world with clear vision."
You groaned and hit your forehead with the palm of your hand. "Oh my Goddesses, please never quote me from that again. It's embarrassing." Under your hand, your cheeks were beginning to warm up.
"What? I'm just saying you make everything better!" He laughed.
"You are the absolute worst." You mumbled, but a little giggle escaped your lips. "But I love you."
Kass fiddled with the keys on his accordion with a loving look on his face. "And I love you." He replied genuinely. "Now, go back to sleep. I know you had quite an interesting morning." Then, he went back to playing the calm lullaby once more.
You glared at him playfully. "You're not my dad. And I'm not even tired anymore." Just as you said that, your eyes began to droop. Music always had an impact on you, but you never imagined it could literally lull you to sleep. Before you could even realize how tired you were, you fell asleep leaning against the wooden post.
Kass watched as your face and muscles relaxed, and he smiled down at your sleeping figure. It was unheard by you and the young girls sleeping against you, but during a pause in the song, he whispered, "I love you, my beautiful girls."
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old habits, old sport || r & s
All things considered, Sirius should have been in his element – cut free from the castle for the evening, his friends close at hand, a new wave of politics pushing its way into the spotlight and a pulsing nightclub that was just about as homoerotic charged as the way Sirius and Remus used to ask one another to borrow notes before they’d shucked the pretense and began actually snogging.
Instead, he felt like he was at the eye of a swirling storm.
The lights, the music, the laughter and heavy-pour cocktails – it all seemed to exist on the outside of something. A fishbowl, maybe, that had Sirius as its centerpiece instead of a plastic castle, and a gaggle of greased-up businessmen around him with their beady eyes fixed on his hands as they all figured out exactly how much gold it would take to facilitate a binding shake. The glass separating Sirius from the better aspects of the club was metaphorical, but he was still trapped here in the middle, all the same.
Actually, no. Trapped was too harsh a word for something that he was currently reminding himself about over and over again. Escape was possible, and he could decide to leave and join the neon, chaotic fray at the far corners of the club whenever he chose. Sirius was not trapped.
Sirius was holding court.
He had walked into this willingly and to an outside eye it’d look like he was having the time of his life. The summer before he ran away was just one exercise of an old, oft-resented muscle that Sirius had been born with, and had flexed infrequently but adeptly. One of the reasons Sirius hated the politics of high society life – and there were a great many to choose from, even when his asshole father was removed from consideration – was how pointless it all was. Right families winking at equally rich families to decide who was sidestepping a fight with whom that week in the name of passing the same gold points back and forth across a table, or desk, or wedding altar for favors. Again and again and again, in a circle, until they all died out. The same players, the same game; the same families, the same money. It only meant anything because they all bought into it, and Sirius had been ostracized for pointing that out before he even had the grasp of language to try.
Tonight was a little different. It was, it seemed to Sirius, the one good outcome that might have stemmed from his upbringing. He had the gold in his vault to buy a promise; he had the connections however charred those bridges had become; he had a knowledge of how to talk the talk in a way that made people listen. Sirius had been down in the pit before, and he knew the unspoken rules, because you had to know all about something if you wanted to properly resent it – anything less bordered on ignorant.
Sirius had something else, too – something that he was quite sure nobody else in his little circlejerk of bad jokes and good drinks had. Something he really believed in. Something worth fighting for, wheeling and dealing for, and getting his hands a little dirty for.
Sirius did not know where Remus was at the moment, but that was the face keeping his mind’s eye sane while he tried not to make eye contact with the prominent mole of the ginger man who’d pulled Sirius close moments ago to tell him that, although he couldn’t risk getting involved with Any Of This Pesky Werewolf Business, he did know a talented real estate agent with a selection of flats in London, and would Sirius like her card instead? (Sirius did; he’d pocketed it with a smile that bordered on genuine.)
Sirius always did better with a goal in mind, and he wouldn’t have many other chances to hold court at the center of a room where everyone was already talking politics, already talking werewolves, and just drunk enough to accidentally do something noble with their money.
That did make it all a little better.
Theoretically.
Sirius heard himself laughing, and tuned back into the conversation he’d been leading on autopilot. His conversation partner was a booming bore, but he knew a lot about books and he was making a point to keep things above board – Sirius would have respected that, but he made it a point in life to not respect any sitting members of the Wizengamot.
The man – Wolfshiem – patted Sirius enthusiastically on the shoulder as they spoke, and Sirius fought to urge to rub his hand against the site of the rougher-than-anticipated contact. This was not an environment to be caught wincing in, but he suspected Wolfshiem knew that, too.
“I mean, I would never take a bribe,” Wolfshiem said with a roll of his eyes, like it was something unheard of and beneath them both. Sirius’s laugh was a low snort at the back of his throat; as close to agreement as the men could state without one of them having to say the b-word aloud again. “But a donation could go a long way. Because you’re so...right, dear boy, about the state of our access to information. We are actually far more on the same page than you’d think. No, really, don’t smile, listen–– I was saying just the other day to my wife. Er, sorry––”
Wolfshiem ducked his head and made some show of false modesty.
“To my secretary, at the office. I said, ‘Lisbet, why is all of the information so hard for our constituents to get to? The Prophet, they own their own archives. And all of the major libraries are either owned by the Ministry––” The two men shared a knowing look at the mention of the governing body they were supposed to be here to support. “Or under a members-only lock and key. I was just saying that, can you believe it?”
Sirius couldn’t.
“Absolutely I can,” said Sirius with a smile.
He opened his mouth to add something else, but Wolfshiem‘s eyes had started to wander and he had a sneaking suspicion that saying ‘publicly accessible information to documents that cast these capable, admirable underdogs in a positive light’ one more time would end the conversation, not prolong it. Especially since Sirius was referring to werewolves, muggleborns and the otherwise underserved when he spoke of underdogs and – not by accidental design – Wolfshiem was thinking of himself.
Creative control was a later problem.
“We’ll talk,” said Sirius firmly, holding out his hand. “Numbers, I mean. Write me tomorrow.”
“Numbers and names!” Wolfshiem boomed, his enthusiasm returning now he was on the verge of being cut free. “Your name’s got to be on it, of course. That’s tradition. How do you like this: the Black Athenaeum.”
The rule about wincing went out the window. Sirius visibly balked at that, but it was right right move, for once. Both men broke off into a new round of loud, fake laughter. Wolfshiem because he’d heard about all the nasty business with Sirius’s family, though little of it the true version. Sirius because he was really tired of this conversation and delirium was setting in.
“We’ll go back to the drawing board on that, I think,” he said, reaching out to clasp Wolfshiem‘s hand with purpose. A scrap of paper was concealed between their palms, and a knowing smile flickered across Wolfshiem‘s face – a confirmation of receipt if ever there was one.
“I can’t wait to see how many zeroes you’ve scribbled onto this, you sneaky bastard.”
Sirius only answered with a wink. “It’s the best proposition you’re going to get tonight,” he added. A look around the room made him reconsider, and he added. “From me, anyway. I won’t speak for some of these back rooms.”
“Black Athenaeum,” Wolfshiem repeated with a chortle, backing away and slipping the paper into his coat pocket. “Think about it!”
Sirius tapped his temple in a promise that he would consider it. (He would not.)
One of Sirius’s hands rose to loosen his tie, slightly. This was far from what Sirius pictured when he’d imagined the first time he got the chance to share a drink and a few hours with Remus inside The Manic Pixie, of course. He knew where Remus was in that scenario, for one. For another, the theme called for more clothing than necessary. Sirius’s hat pulled the whole outfit together but wouldn’t remain pulled mysteriously over one of his eyes - and at that point, what was the point?
Left on his own, Sirius felt a small swell of pride. It wasn’t much, but he’d gotten something done tonight. It was a half-promise, sure, but he’d worked his way around the room and paid for half-promises from more than a half dozen people already. That had to add up to something worthwhile. It had to.
If what the newspapers were saying was any indication of what was to come?
It really, really had to.
@remus-whoisleft
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We're celebrating the release of Light My Fire by Jessica Ruben! One-click yours now!
Light My Fire (Sex. Rock. Mafia. #1) by Jessica Ruben
Cover by: Okay Creations
NA Contemporary Romance
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46641148-light-my-fire
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Paperback: https://amzn.to/2mrEKIU
From Amazon bestselling author Jessica Ruben comes a hot new Romance…
He saved me from war.
Fed me when I was in too much pain to eat.
Smuggled me and my family into America when it became too dangerous to stay.
But, Nico didn’t flee with us.
While I began elementary school in the United States, he was building the greatest and toughest Mafia of the century.
The Mafia Shqiptare.
Nico is now King of all underground trades.
Sexy. Aggressive. Brilliant.
After years of nothing but silence, he’s back in my life,
Ready to do whatever it takes to bring me into his universe.
He isn’t leaving until he takes me with him.
EXCERPT:
“It’s your brother,” he says matter-of-factly. “But you probably knew that already.”
My stomach drops. Agron.
“It seems he’s been stealing from some of my associates.” His voice is completely devoid of any feeling. “He was dealing for them and keeping a little bit of product for himself. Sometimes, he used it; other times, he sold it. But after a while, people began to notice. He ran to the Shqipe for help.”
I want to blink, but I cannot move.
“I gave him the money to pay those debts. And now, I’m the one he owes. I figured I could use him to do some small-time work, get my money back that way.” He takes a sip of his wine, completely unfazed. “And then I hear, Agron wants a firm spot in my world. Gave one of my men a whole story that the Mafia Shqiptare is where he’s meant to be.
“As we both know, your brother has always been a loose cannon. Arguably, untrustworthy. I knew him when he was a kid, but I’m a firm believer that people don’t change.” He stops speaking, continuing to dig into his food.
Meanwhile, I’m worried mine is going to come back up. Hearing this about my brother isn’t a surprise, but it’s painful nonetheless.
I take another sip of my wine, hoping it will calm me or at least give the illusion I’m relaxed. Unfortunately, my hand trembles, and the glass shakes, giving me away. Nico notices, of course.
He clears his throat, putting his fork down. “There is something I need from you. And if you give me what I want, I’ll protect your brother from the other gangs by giving him a spot in the Shqipe. You do not have to agree to the arrangement. But if you do, there is no end to it until I decide it’s over.” He settles into a forward-lean position, big arms resting on the glass table and shirtsleeves pulled up to the center of his strong, corded forearms. Everything about him, from his body language to his words, spells dominance.
I open and then shut my mouth.
Nico looks me up and down, his gaze stormy and hot.
Is Nico going to ask me for sex? It wouldn’t be unheard of in these crazy circles. But I have a limit, and whoring myself out for the sake of my brother is a no-go. No. Impossible. Never.
“What I need is simple,” he continues casually, the look in his eyes extinguished. “There is a new family I’m aiming to do business with. They’re the type who like to work with men who are … settled down. I know how loyal you are to your word. We share a language and customs. You will act as my wife when I request it.”
“I have school.” I lick my lips. I can’t let go of my future. Not for Agron and not for anyone. I won’t!
“You can go back for your studies”—he nods—“finish your degree. But when I call, you must come.”
“This arrangement,” I start, pointing between himself and me, “it’s just for public purposes, r-right? Nothing private you’re expecting or illegal?” I can’t help my stutter. I want to stay strong in the face of all of this, but it’s getting difficult.
Nico looks over my shoulder, and I turn my head, finding no one behind me. When I refocus on him, he’s fuming. He knows what I’m insinuating.
He grits his teeth. “You aren’t my whore, Elira. And I’m not going to ask you to do my dirty work either.” His eyes are hard.
Is he offended?
“Take my proposal at face value.” He finishes his drink. His huge hand places the delicate crystal glass on the table. “There is no hidden agenda. You pretend to be my wife, come when I call you, and act as I expect, and in return, I will bring your brother into my fold, making sure that no outsider kills him. If you walk away, he’s on his own.”
“He wants to work for you. He will do a good job for you.” I swallow hard.
He cocks his head to the side, like he’s calling bullshit. “Agron’s best asset is that he is related to you.”
I shift, but the weight of my body feels like it’s doubled. “And if he’s within the Shqipe, the other groups won’t be able to touch him?”
“That’s right.”
Quiet descends upon our discussion, but my mind shrieks. The skeptical part of me is on questioning overdrive. “What kind of events would be required of me?”
He takes another bite of food. “We’d travel. Dinners. Things like that.”
I wait to hear more, things along the lines of dungeons and sex slave, but thankfully, it doesn’t come. “So, all I have to do is pretend we’re married?”
He nods. “Yes. Exactly.”
“But what about when this business thing you need me for is complete? What will happen to Agron then?”
His lips quirk up. “You’re very loyal, Elira.”
“He’s my brother.” What else can I say? I want and need Agron to stay safe and alive. This is clearly his best shot.
“We’ll cross that bridge when it comes. I would take this offer then if you are so keen on making sure he stays out of trouble.”
“You’ll swear to that?”
“My oath is my bond.”
I know he’s telling the truth. For people like us, honor is everything.
I wait for him to elaborate some more, but he doesn’t. Surprisingly, I feel my nose twitch. I was expecting him to mention something, anything, about before. About what we had. But he doesn’t. And I’m not about to either. I just want to get the hell out of here. I want to go back in time and tell myself not to have that damn cigarette. I wish I’d flagged Jack down when he was circled by those girls and claimed him for myself. Instead, I made one fucking choice, and now, here I am, in front of Nico, my life on crazy ground.
“It’s late.” Nico shifts in his chair. “You’ll stay tonight and think. Tomorrow morning, give me your answer. Regardless of what you choose, I’ll have my car bring you back to school.” He stands up, twisting the fancy gold watch around his wrist. “When you’re finished eating, Maria will bring you back to your room.”
“I want to leave tonight.” Some of my bravado from before is gone. Beneath the strong girl is plain me—a college kid from Tobeho. Here is the last place I want to stay.
“Until I have your answer, you aren’t allowed to take one step out of my sight.” He stands up to his full menacing height, and in this moment, he truly scares me. He doesn’t give a shit about what we had—that much is clear.
I force myself upright, refusing to cower.
Seemingly satisfied, he walks away.
“What an asshole,” I curse under my breath.
He snaps, “What did you call me?” His stubborn jaw gives him a stony expression.
My stomach drops to my knees.
“Something to remember.” He saunters back to where I sit. “I will not be seen with a woman who doesn’t look polished or well-raised. I know who you are and where you come from. Act like the woman you ought to be or forget the deal.” And with those final cutting words, he’s gone.
About the Author:
Jessica Ruben lives and works in New York City, where she spends her days dominating in the court room as an attorney. Come nightfall, she writes romances centering on gorgeous alpha males and the intelligent women who love them.
Jessica is an insatiable reader, and will devour a few books a week without batting an eyelash. Books have always been her drug of choice, and she has no plans on detox anytime soon. She has three wildly delicious children and a husband who, for reasons unimaginable to her, loves her brand of crazy.
http://jessicarubenauthor.com
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Congratulations, SYMONE! You have been accepted as KIAH CHAMBERS.
Note from Admin Jade: Kiah is a much more complicated girl than the world gives her credit for, and it was clear from the very beginning of your app that you understand that without a doubt. You showed me both sides to this Parisian Roman princess — the Kiah that's concerned with material, wealth, status, and (of course) the limelight, and the more fragile soul beneath that craves affection and validation. Your sample did such a wonderful job of capturing her flair for the dramatic, and beyond that, you showed her reasons behind it all — that she’s got a very sensitive soul that hurts far more easily than she’d like to acknowledge. I can’t wait to watch her demand all of our attention on the dashboard — and I know she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Name: problem child, but I will answer to Symone
Age: 23
Preferred Pronouns: she/her
Timezone: CST
Triggers: REMOVED
Anything Else? I’m so down for yall, regardless if I’m accepted or not, this is an amazing rp and I cant wait for you to start.
IN CHARACTER
Desired Character: Kiah “Princess” Chambers
Describe this character in your own words: S P O I L E D B R A T— that’s how you spell princess, right? I’ve nicknamed Kiah the primadonna because her life is truly a production that of which she is the star. She’ll do anything to keep her single spotlight and her name on the giant social media marquee. Every tantrum, meltdown, and blowout is marketable, every party, shopping spree, and getaway is an event. If there’s one thing I know Kiah looks forward to is an occasion– but that’s only surface. underneath I Kiah has this very deep need for affection that lasts and personally I don’t think she realizes how much she really wants it because material thing fill her up and she jumps from item to item. Real love is is something she lacks, especially maternally and the way it effects her demeanor shows more than she means it to.
What are this character’s motives? luxury my girl Kiah is a princess who needs to be taken care of. She needs to be coddled she’s honestly been cared for and for so long that in Rome she’s secretly out of her element.
What potential plots do you foresee for this character? REMOVED
Would you be open to this character’s death? REMOVED
PARA SAMPLE
Cue William Tell: Overture by Rossini as the scene opens up to a luxurious princess bedroom, complete with lace drawn canopy, in its center lies a sleeping princess with a dainty eye mask over her covered eyes as she slept away her morning hangover. Her beloved peace and quite is suddenly disrupted by the ever obnoxious sound of a whirring vacuum cleaner….
Kiah could feel the anger pooling in her veins as she woke with a groan, forcing herself to to open her eyes to the darkness presented by the pink sleep mask she wore. She had not yet risen, thought the clock was nearing 10:30 in the morning. Even in her blindness she could still feel the room spin ever so slightly, remnants of the night before coming to mind. It was the two thousand dollar bottle of Hennessy Paradis she’d flaunted on Instagram with her friends in the VIP section of Le Crazy Horse de Paris the night before. The photo had nearly 2,000 likes before she’s gone to sleep and probably accumulated thousands more by now, but her social standing (currently) was of no concern. What was the loud whirring that was much too close to her ears. With a huff, Kiah sat up, pulling off the eye mask and squinting at the bright morning view. “Who the hell is being this insufferable this early in the morning?” She muttered to herself as her attention turned to her Persian cat, Lady Balmain perched upon an extravagant cat tower. “Did the stupid housekeeper wake you up baby?” She pulled herself out of bed to walk over to the white-haired cat scratching her behind the ears. “Come on now, let’s go see who doesn’t respect the sanctity of beauty rest.” And in a swift motion, she lifts the cat from its pink perch and carries her into her closet. In the walk out space she notices the stacks of cardboard boxes, her closet usually adorned with the latest fashion and accessories now looking barren as her personal house keeper, Brigitte packed and stored belongings as two others cleaning and vacuumed. They hadn’t stopped their hurried movements until Kiah cleared her throat.
“Miss Kiah,” Brigitte was the first to speak up, her voice soft and gentle, always treading lightly around Kiah, the girl would never admit how find she was of the woman who was truly always the first to tend to her desires— and quell a tantrum. “My apologies we didn’t mean to wake you.”
Kiah would have started a rant then and there, but her confusion was still set on her near empty closet. “What are you doing?” She quipped, letting Lady Balmain fall to her paws onto the plush carpet.
“Packaging your items for the move as your mother requested dear.” Both Kiah and Brigitte spoke fluent French, but Kiah looked at the older woman as if she was speaking Chinese. “—What?”
“The move to Rome next week, you mother has been planning for wee—” Kiah held up her hands to interrupt the woman, she could feel her blood boil, her body desperately aching to scream at the top of her lungs, but she held off, storing the energy for later. “Get out.” The maids all looked to one another before she raised her voice and they moved to scurry away. She stopped Brigitte however, snatching her would be outfit of the day out of the woman’s hands. “Have a French press ready for me in when I finish preparing for the morning. Thank you.” The woman nodded and left Kiah to her own devices, heading to the showers to deliberate How she would crucify her parents for finding new and creative ways of ruining her life.
Two very tense hours later, Kiah sat primped and polished with a French press in hand and her rose gold iPhone in the other typing away to several different group chats while her father and mother sat across from her inside of his office. She hardly came into the room where her parents played most of their little games or devised their dubious plots unless she wanted something she couldn’t get, today she came to yell.
“Kiah, you’ve known for weeks now that we were moving—”
“YOU were moving, papa you didn’t say WE—” she gestured to her elder brother Zaine, who stood quietly in the background waiting to play mediator. “— were moving. To Italy’s no less, it’s as if you’re purposely trying to ruin MY life.”
“Had you come to the several discussions about this move instead of gallivanting off to Monte Carlo or whatever beach you can find to parade your ass on you would have known this was going to be a family operation.” Celine’s words were curt and to the point and they stung like small cuts to the body, every word. “Don’t feign surprise or throw one of your tantrums, neither of us have the time.”
“You’re being absolutely putrid, mother.”
“And I’m sure you would know, living definition. How I was saddled with such an ingrate I will never understand.” It had been clear from the beginning of the conversation Celine didn’t have the energy to deal with Kiah, gesturing to Harland to finish the job for her.
“Kiah, everything is already set in motion, there is no staying in France. You’ll join the rest of us as we join your family in Rome. Period.”
The tantrum that had been bubbling since she’d awoken that morning suddenly rose to the top as Kiah Chambers let loose a blood curling scream.
“I DON’T EVEN SPEAK ITALIAN AND YOU WANT ME TO MOVE ALL THE WAY TO ROME IN A WEEK. YOU’RE MAKING ME DROP EVERYTHING I HAVE GOING ON FOR ME HERE FOR UNCLE CHRISTIAN WHO DIDN’T EVEN INVITE ME TO HIS WEDDING. IT’S NOT EVEN MILAN, ITS ROME YOU’RE TRYING TO MAKE ME LOOK LIKE SOME SAD PATHETIC TOURIST WHILE YOU—”
“ENOUGH.” Harland’s voice was booming, clear that he’d endured enough torture, Kiah grew quiet and slightly smug, knowing her father would follow routine to give her what she wanted. “Continue to assist Brigitte in packing your things and make your necessary arrangements,.I suggest you hurry, you have less than a week.”
The shock and utter disbelief that fell over Kiah when he father refused to fold for her. it left her in complete silence, something that was nothing short of unheard of in their household, reasoning with her parents hasn’t worked, screaming at them hadn’t worked either. Kiah only had one card left in her deck to play.
She cried.
In a matter of seconds, wild wracking sobs overcame her slender frame. “THIS ISNT FAIR!”
Celine, sitting on the edge of her husbands desk was completely in amused by her daughters cries, In fact her face held a look of that could not be mistaken for anything other than regret. “Fine. You won’t move, your father, brother and I will move to Italy as planned and you’ll be left here…”
Kiah’s sobs died down only to hear the end of her mother’s words. “And we will leave you penniless and without a place to stay, does that suit you?”
Her frustration met one last miserable scream as she bolted out of the room, ignoring her brother’s calls to calm down. it was not happening, there was no way in hell this was happening to her.
“Hey Instagram! You’ll never believe what I’m up to today— let me show you. [pans to an empty room and closet.] if your first guess was remodeling, you’re off— I’m moving! To the Eternal City herself, Roma! Clearly Paris wasn’t enough for me, I can’t very well be queen of one city, I must have two! So, if you want to stay update, follow me on snapchat for more updates, you won’t wanna miss out. Au revoir à la ville-lumière, and ciao la città eterna!” [ she blows a kiss and the video ends right before the one minute mark]
EXTRAS
here is her tag, and a playlist. luh u/
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We're celebrating the release of Light My Fire by Jessica Ruben! One-click yours now!
Light My Fire (Sex. Rock. Mafia. #1) by Jessica Ruben
Cover by: Okay Creations
NA Contemporary Romance
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46641148-light-my-fire
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2noGWkE
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2nppUD7
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2oYFC8L
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2nfSJlz
Paperback: https://amzn.to/2mrEKIU
From Amazon bestselling author Jessica Ruben comes a hot new Romance…
He saved me from war.
Fed me when I was in too much pain to eat.
Smuggled me and my family into America when it became too dangerous to stay.
But, Nico didn’t flee with us.
While I began elementary school in the United States, he was building the greatest and toughest Mafia of the century.
The Mafia Shqiptare.
Nico is now King of all underground trades.
Sexy. Aggressive. Brilliant.
After years of nothing but silence, he’s back in my life,
Ready to do whatever it takes to bring me into his universe.
He isn’t leaving until he takes me with him.
EXCERPT:
“It’s your brother,” he says matter-of-factly. “But you probably knew that already.”
My stomach drops. Agron.
“It seems he’s been stealing from some of my associates.” His voice is completely devoid of any feeling. “He was dealing for them and keeping a little bit of product for himself. Sometimes, he used it; other times, he sold it. But after a while, people began to notice. He ran to the Shqipe for help.”
I want to blink, but I cannot move.
“I gave him the money to pay those debts. And now, I’m the one he owes. I figured I could use him to do some small-time work, get my money back that way.” He takes a sip of his wine, completely unfazed. “And then I hear, Agron wants a firm spot in my world. Gave one of my men a whole story that the Mafia Shqiptare is where he’s meant to be.
“As we both know, your brother has always been a loose cannon. Arguably, untrustworthy. I knew him when he was a kid, but I’m a firm believer that people don’t change.” He stops speaking, continuing to dig into his food.
Meanwhile, I’m worried mine is going to come back up. Hearing this about my brother isn’t a surprise, but it’s painful nonetheless.
I take another sip of my wine, hoping it will calm me or at least give the illusion I’m relaxed. Unfortunately, my hand trembles, and the glass shakes, giving me away. Nico notices, of course.
He clears his throat, putting his fork down. “There is something I need from you. And if you give me what I want, I’ll protect your brother from the other gangs by giving him a spot in the Shqipe. You do not have to agree to the arrangement. But if you do, there is no end to it until I decide it’s over.” He settles into a forward-lean position, big arms resting on the glass table and shirtsleeves pulled up to the center of his strong, corded forearms. Everything about him, from his body language to his words, spells dominance.
I open and then shut my mouth.
Nico looks me up and down, his gaze stormy and hot.
Is Nico going to ask me for sex? It wouldn’t be unheard of in these crazy circles. But I have a limit, and whoring myself out for the sake of my brother is a no-go. No. Impossible. Never.
“What I need is simple,” he continues casually, the look in his eyes extinguished. “There is a new family I’m aiming to do business with. They’re the type who like to work with men who are … settled down. I know how loyal you are to your word. We share a language and customs. You will act as my wife when I request it.”
“I have school.” I lick my lips. I can’t let go of my future. Not for Agron and not for anyone. I won’t!
“You can go back for your studies”—he nods—“finish your degree. But when I call, you must come.”
“This arrangement,” I start, pointing between himself and me, “it’s just for public purposes, r-right? Nothing private you’re expecting or illegal?” I can’t help my stutter. I want to stay strong in the face of all of this, but it’s getting difficult.
Nico looks over my shoulder, and I turn my head, finding no one behind me. When I refocus on him, he’s fuming. He knows what I’m insinuating.
He grits his teeth. “You aren’t my whore, Elira. And I’m not going to ask you to do my dirty work either.” His eyes are hard.
Is he offended?
“Take my proposal at face value.” He finishes his drink. His huge hand places the delicate crystal glass on the table. “There is no hidden agenda. You pretend to be my wife, come when I call you, and act as I expect, and in return, I will bring your brother into my fold, making sure that no outsider kills him. If you walk away, he’s on his own.”
“He wants to work for you. He will do a good job for you.” I swallow hard.
He cocks his head to the side, like he’s calling bullshit. “Agron’s best asset is that he is related to you.”
I shift, but the weight of my body feels like it’s doubled. “And if he’s within the Shqipe, the other groups won’t be able to touch him?”
“That’s right.”
Quiet descends upon our discussion, but my mind shrieks. The skeptical part of me is on questioning overdrive. “What kind of events would be required of me?”
He takes another bite of food. “We’d travel. Dinners. Things like that.”
I wait to hear more, things along the lines of dungeons and sex slave, but thankfully, it doesn’t come. “So, all I have to do is pretend we’re married?”
He nods. “Yes. Exactly.”
“But what about when this business thing you need me for is complete? What will happen to Agron then?”
His lips quirk up. “You’re very loyal, Elira.”
“He’s my brother.” What else can I say? I want and need Agron to stay safe and alive. This is clearly his best shot.
“We’ll cross that bridge when it comes. I would take this offer then if you are so keen on making sure he stays out of trouble.”
“You’ll swear to that?”
“My oath is my bond.”
I know he’s telling the truth. For people like us, honor is everything.
I wait for him to elaborate some more, but he doesn’t. Surprisingly, I feel my nose twitch. I was expecting him to mention something, anything, about before. About what we had. But he doesn’t. And I’m not about to either. I just want to get the hell out of here. I want to go back in time and tell myself not to have that damn cigarette. I wish I’d flagged Jack down when he was circled by those girls and claimed him for myself. Instead, I made one fucking choice, and now, here I am, in front of Nico, my life on crazy ground.
“It’s late.” Nico shifts in his chair. “You’ll stay tonight and think. Tomorrow morning, give me your answer. Regardless of what you choose, I’ll have my car bring you back to school.” He stands up, twisting the fancy gold watch around his wrist. “When you’re finished eating, Maria will bring you back to your room.”
“I want to leave tonight.” Some of my bravado from before is gone. Beneath the strong girl is plain me—a college kid from Tobeho. Here is the last place I want to stay.
“Until I have your answer, you aren’t allowed to take one step out of my sight.” He stands up to his full menacing height, and in this moment, he truly scares me. He doesn’t give a shit about what we had—that much is clear.
I force myself upright, refusing to cower.
Seemingly satisfied, he walks away.
“What an asshole,” I curse under my breath.
He snaps, “What did you call me?” His stubborn jaw gives him a stony expression.
My stomach drops to my knees.
“Something to remember.” He saunters back to where I sit. “I will not be seen with a woman who doesn’t look polished or well-raised. I know who you are and where you come from. Act like the woman you ought to be or forget the deal.” And with those final cutting words, he’s gone.
About the Author:
Jessica Ruben lives and works in New York City, where she spends her days dominating in the court room as an attorney. Come nightfall, she writes romances centering on gorgeous alpha males and the intelligent women who love them.
Jessica is an insatiable reader, and will devour a few books a week without batting an eyelash. Books have always been her drug of choice, and she has no plans on detox anytime soon. She has three wildly delicious children and a husband who, for reasons unimaginable to her, loves her brand of crazy.
http://jessicarubenauthor.com
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Take a peek inside Light My Fire by Jessica Ruben! Don't forget to add it to your TBR!
Light My Fire (Sex. Rock. Mafia. #1) by Jessica Ruben
Cover by: Okay Creations
NA Contemporary Romance
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46641148-light-my-fire
From Amazon bestselling author Jessica Ruben comes a hot new Romance…
He saved me from war.
Fed me when I was in too much pain to eat.
Smuggled me and my family into America when it became too dangerous to stay.
But, Nico didn’t flee with us.
While I began elementary school in the United States, he was building the greatest and toughest Mafia of the century.
The Mafia Shqiptare.
Nico is now King of all underground trades.
Sexy. Aggressive. Brilliant.
After years of nothing but silence, he’s back in my life,
Ready to do whatever it takes to bring me into his universe.
He isn’t leaving until he takes me with him.
EXCERPT:
“It’s your brother,” he says matter-of-factly. “But you probably knew that already.”
My stomach drops. Agron.
“It seems he’s been stealing from some of my associates.” His voice is completely devoid of any feeling. “He was dealing for them and keeping a little bit of product for himself. Sometimes, he used it; other times, he sold it. But after a while, people began to notice. He ran to the Shqipe for help.”
I want to blink, but I cannot move.
“I gave him the money to pay those debts. And now, I’m the one he owes. I figured I could use him to do some small-time work, get my money back that way.” He takes a sip of his wine, completely unfazed. “And then I hear, Agron wants a firm spot in my world. Gave one of my men a whole story that the Mafia Shqiptare is where he’s meant to be.
“As we both know, your brother has always been a loose cannon. Arguably, untrustworthy. I knew him when he was a kid, but I’m a firm believer that people don’t change.” He stops speaking, continuing to dig into his food.
Meanwhile, I’m worried mine is going to come back up. Hearing this about my brother isn’t a surprise, but it’s painful nonetheless.
I take another sip of my wine, hoping it will calm me or at least give the illusion I’m relaxed. Unfortunately, my hand trembles, and the glass shakes, giving me away. Nico notices, of course.
He clears his throat, putting his fork down. “There is something I need from you. And if you give me what I want, I’ll protect your brother from the other gangs by giving him a spot in the Shqipe. You do not have to agree to the arrangement. But if you do, there is no end to it until I decide it’s over.” He settles into a forward-lean position, big arms resting on the glass table and shirtsleeves pulled up to the center of his strong, corded forearms. Everything about him, from his body language to his words, spells dominance.
I open and then shut my mouth.
Nico looks me up and down, his gaze stormy and hot.
Is Nico going to ask me for sex? It wouldn’t be unheard of in these crazy circles. But I have a limit, and whoring myself out for the sake of my brother is a no-go. No. Impossible. Never.
“What I need is simple,” he continues casually, the look in his eyes extinguished. “There is a new family I’m aiming to do business with. They’re the type who like to work with men who are … settled down. I know how loyal you are to your word. We share a language and customs. You will act as my wife when I request it.”
“I have school.” I lick my lips. I can’t let go of my future. Not for Agron and not for anyone. I won’t!
“You can go back for your studies”—he nods—“finish your degree. But when I call, you must come.”
“This arrangement,” I start, pointing between himself and me, “it’s just for public purposes, r-right? Nothing private you’re expecting or illegal?” I can’t help my stutter. I want to stay strong in the face of all of this, but it’s getting difficult.
Nico looks over my shoulder, and I turn my head, finding no one behind me. When I refocus on him, he’s fuming. He knows what I’m insinuating.
He grits his teeth. “You aren’t my whore, Elira. And I’m not going to ask you to do my dirty work either.” His eyes are hard.
Is he offended?
“Take my proposal at face value.” He finishes his drink. His huge hand places the delicate crystal glass on the table. “There is no hidden agenda. You pretend to be my wife, come when I call you, and act as I expect, and in return, I will bring your brother into my fold, making sure that no outsider kills him. If you walk away, he’s on his own.”
“He wants to work for you. He will do a good job for you.” I swallow hard.
He cocks his head to the side, like he’s calling bullshit. “Agron’s best asset is that he is related to you.”
I shift, but the weight of my body feels like it’s doubled. “And if he’s within the Shqipe, the other groups won’t be able to touch him?”
“That’s right.”
Quiet descends upon our discussion, but my mind shrieks. The skeptical part of me is on questioning overdrive. “What kind of events would be required of me?”
He takes another bite of food. “We’d travel. Dinners. Things like that.”
I wait to hear more, things along the lines of dungeons and sex slave, but thankfully, it doesn’t come. “So, all I have to do is pretend we’re married?”
He nods. “Yes. Exactly.”
“But what about when this business thing you need me for is complete? What will happen to Agron then?”
His lips quirk up. “You’re very loyal, Elira.”
“He’s my brother.” What else can I say? I want and need Agron to stay safe and alive. This is clearly his best shot.
“We’ll cross that bridge when it comes. I would take this offer then if you are so keen on making sure he stays out of trouble.”
“You’ll swear to that?”
“My oath is my bond.”
I know he’s telling the truth. For people like us, honor is everything.
I wait for him to elaborate some more, but he doesn’t. Surprisingly, I feel my nose twitch. I was expecting him to mention something, anything, about before. About what we had. But he doesn’t. And I’m not about to either. I just want to get the hell out of here. I want to go back in time and tell myself not to have that damn cigarette. I wish I’d flagged Jack down when he was circled by those girls and claimed him for myself. Instead, I made one fucking choice, and now, here I am, in front of Nico, my life on crazy ground.
“It’s late.” Nico shifts in his chair. “You’ll stay tonight and think. Tomorrow morning, give me your answer. Regardless of what you choose, I’ll have my car bring you back to school.” He stands up, twisting the fancy gold watch around his wrist. “When you’re finished eating, Maria will bring you back to your room.”
“I want to leave tonight.” Some of my bravado from before is gone. Beneath the strong girl is plain me—a college kid from Tobeho. Here is the last place I want to stay.
“Until I have your answer, you aren’t allowed to take one step out of my sight.” He stands up to his full menacing height, and in this moment, he truly scares me. He doesn’t give a shit about what we had—that much is clear.
I force myself upright, refusing to cower.
Seemingly satisfied, he walks away.
“What an asshole,” I curse under my breath.
He snaps, “What did you call me?” His stubborn jaw gives him a stony expression.
My stomach drops to my knees.
“Something to remember.” He saunters back to where I sit. “I will not be seen with a woman who doesn’t look polished or well-raised. I know who you are and where you come from. Act like the woman you ought to be or forget the deal.” And with those final cutting words, he’s gone.
About the Author:
Jessica Ruben lives and works in New York City, where she spends her days dominating in the court room as an attorney. Come nightfall, she writes romances centering on gorgeous alpha males and the intelligent women who love them.
Jessica is an insatiable reader, and will devour a few books a week without batting an eyelash. Books have always been her drug of choice, and she has no plans on detox anytime soon. She has three wildly delicious children and a husband who, for reasons unimaginable to her, loves her brand of crazy.
http://jessicarubenauthor.com
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