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haydenigmatic · 11 months

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Could you write down the RO's reaction to seeing the MC almost turning into a dragon when he got extremely angry? As the continuation of this text:

"As RO opens the door curious to the MC's sudden screams of fury, they see the same shouting at a nobleman.

-The big idiot! Do you have the slightest idea what you just did?! I should destroy your hose, your lands and make sure your entire family lives in the most terrible misery for the rest of their existence for this!

The reason for their fury is unknown, but the result is easily seen, the MC doesn't seem to realize what is happening to their own body anymore, their height increases to the point where they had to bend their spine to be able to see the nobleman in front of them, their muscles can no longer be contained by the outfit, that must have been worth mountains of gold to be made, are now being torn apart, their eyes are no longer human and look like that of a reptile, their fingernails grow longer and begin to appear like claws, scales begin to appear on their body, their teeths become fangs and every second their screams sound like roars. The noble falls to the ground in utter fear and the MC doesn't look like they are going to stop soon. The RO knows they must stop this before the MC destroy the whole place."

Well do expect a long answer 😂

VERENA:

As Verena opens the door to the MC's sudden screams of fury, her eyes widen in shock and disbelief at the sight before her. The once composed and collected MC is now transformed into a creature of rage and power, almost turning into a dragon in the height of their anger. Her first instinct is to step back, her heart racing as she tries to process what she is witnessing.

Despite the shocking display of the MC's transformation, Lady Verena's strategic mind quickly kicks into gear. She recognizes the danger of the situation, not only to the nobleman at the receiving end of the MC's wrath but also to the entire place. The chaos that could ensue if the MC loses control is a potential disaster that she must avert.

However, beneath her calculated exterior, Lady Verena feels a surge of concern and fear for the MC. She has never seen them like this before, and the intensity of their anger both intrigues and frightens her. The sight of the MC almost turning into a dragon raises questions about their true nature and abilities, something she never expected to witness.

Despite her feelings, Lady Verena knows that she must act quickly to diffuse the situation. With a steely resolve, she steps forward and calls out to the MC, her voice firm but laced with a hint of concern. "MC, enough! You must calm yourself. Losing control like this will not solve anything."

As the MC's roars begin to subside, Lady Verena takes a calculated risk and approaches them cautiously. She reaches out to touch their arm gently, attempting to ground them and bring them back to their human form. "Listen to me, my love. Breathe and focus. You are more powerful than you realize, but you must control this rage. I am here with you, and together, we can handle whatever has angered you."

Her words are a delicate balance of reassurance and authority, reflecting her understanding of the MC's emotions while asserting her own presence as a guiding force in their life. Lady Verena knows that this is a pivotal moment, and how she handles the situation may shape their future together.

In this moment of crisis, Lady Verena's protective instincts and genuine affection for the MC shine through. She is determined to be a stabilizing force for them, even in the face of their uncontrollable anger and unexpected transformation. As she stands by their side, she hopes that her presence can help them find the strength to regain control and prevent any further harm from befalling them or those around them.

NESRIN:

As Nesrin opens the door, her curiosity gives way to shock and concern at the sight that unfolds before her. The MC, engulfed in a fit of uncontrollable rage, appears to be on the verge of transforming into a dragon-like creature. While she has witnessed their anger before, this level of fury and its visible effect on the MC's physical form is entirely unprecedented.

The rational and strategic part of Nesrin's mind races to comprehend the situation. She knows that allowing the MC to fully transform could have catastrophic consequences, both for them and for those around them. As her heart pounds with worry, she quickly assesses the situation, recognizing that she must intervene before the situation escalates any further.

Pushing aside her own fear, Nesrin steps forward with a steady and commanding presence. She speaks in a firm but gentle tone, attempting to catch the MC's attention amidst their rage.

"MC, stop! You don't want to do this. You're stronger than this anger, and you're in control," Nesrin implores, hoping that her words can reach the MC in their enraged state.

Her eyes never leave the MC, searching for any signs of recognition or connection. She tries to draw on their bond, hoping that the love and affection they share can serve as a lifeline to anchor the MC back to their human form.

As the nobleman cowers in fear, Nesrin's protective instincts kick in. She stands between him and the MC, acting as a barrier to prevent any further harm. Her mind races, considering all the possible approaches to de-escalate the situation without further provoking the MC.

Nesrin knows that time is of the essence. She must find a way to help the MC regain control of their emotions and prevent them from fully transforming. She reaches into her vast repertoire of strategic skills, searching for the right words and actions to soothe the MC's anger and guide them back to a calmer state.

In this high-stakes moment, Nesrin's love for the MC shines through. Despite the danger and chaos surrounding them, she remains resolute in her determination to protect the person she holds dear. As she navigates this dangerous situation, Nesrin's heart races with a mix of fear, love, and unwavering commitment to do whatever it takes to keep the MC safe and ensure their shared future.

ODETTE:

As Odette opens the door and witnesses the MC's transformation into a dragon-like form, her initial reaction is one of shock and disbelief. Her eyes widen in astonishment as she takes in the sight before her, unable to fathom what she's witnessing. The anger and fury displayed by the MC are unlike anything she's seen before, and the sudden metamorphosis terrifies her.

Despite her fear, Odette's compassion and love for the MC push her to action. She knows she must act quickly to prevent any further damage and to ensure the safety of those around them. With a mix of determination and concern, she steps forward, calling out to the MC in a soothing yet firm voice.

"MC, please, you must calm down," she implores, her voice laced with urgency. "Take a deep breath and focus on me. I am here, and I won't let anything harm you or anyone else. Please, come back to yourself."

Odette's heart aches as she witnesses the anguish in the MC's eyes and the uncontrollable transformation taking place. She understands that something must have triggered this extreme reaction, but her immediate priority is to bring the MC back to their human form and quell the powerful rage that consumes them.

She takes a tentative step closer, cautious not to startle the MC further. Her presence is meant to offer comfort and reassurance, a reminder of the love they share and the bond they have built together. Odette gently reaches out, her hand trembling slightly, and places it on the MC's arm, seeking a physical connection that might anchor them to the present.

"You're not alone in this, my love," she continues, her voice soft and steady. "I'm here with you, and I'll help you through this. Together, we'll find a way to manage these overwhelming emotions. Trust in us, in our love."

Odette's focus is solely on the MC, blocking out the fear and chaos around them. She knows that it is essential to reach the core of the MC's turmoil and guide them back to a state of calm. She doesn't fear the dragon-like appearance; instead, she feels a profound sense of determination to protect the MC from any harm, physical or emotional.

In that moment, Odette's love for the MC shines brightly, providing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of the situation. Her unwavering support and affection become a beacon, calling the MC back from the brink of uncontrollable rage. She clings to the belief that their love is stronger than any transformation or external force, and she will do everything in her power to bring her beloved back to her side.

JASIRA:

Jasira's reaction to witnessing the MC almost turning into a dragon due to their extreme anger is a mix of shock, concern, and a strong sense of protective instinct.

As she opens the door to the sudden screams of fury, her eyes widen in disbelief at the sight before her. The MC, who she knows so well, is no longer recognizable in their current state of rage. The physical transformation is alarming and unprecedented, and she can feel the intensity of their anger vibrating in the air.

Despite the shock, Jasira's protective instincts kick in immediately. She knows that she must intervene before the situation escalates further and the MC causes irreparable damage. Her heart races as she quickly assesses the scene and realizes the nobleman's grave mistake that triggered this transformation.

With her strong-willed and fearless nature, she steps forward, her voice firm and commanding. "MC, that's enough!" she shouts, attempting to break through the haze of anger that seems to have engulfed the MC. "You can't let your rage control you like this!"

Jasira's words are filled with concern and determination. She refuses to back down, even in the face of the powerful and intimidating presence before her. She knows that she must be strong for the MC in this moment of vulnerability.

As she continues to speak to the MC, her eyes lock with theirs, trying to convey a sense of grounding and connection. Her goal is to anchor them to reality, to remind them of who they are and the strength of their love. Jasira's own heart is pounding with worry, but she channels that fear into a resolute determination to protect the MC and those around them.

She reaches out a hand, gently but firmly, trying to break the cycle of rage and bring the MC back from the brink. "Listen to me," she implores, her voice softer now but no less determined. "You are not alone. I am here with you. We will face this together."

Jasira's presence serves as a guiding light for the MC, a beacon of strength and support. In that moment of vulnerability, she showcases her unwavering love and her fierce loyalty. She knows that it is not easy for the MC to be seen in such a state, but she refuses to let them face it alone.

As the nobleman cowers in fear, Jasira's protective nature is on full display. She stands between the MC and the nobleman, making it clear that she will not allow anyone to harm the person she loves. Her voice is steady, and her eyes blaze with determination as she makes it known that the MC is under her protection.

Through her actions and words, Jasira plays a crucial role in bringing the MC back from the edge of their anger-induced transformation. Her presence is a lifeline, grounding the MC and reminding them of their humanity and their connection to others.

In this moment of crisis, Jasira's love and strength shine brightly, showcasing her unwavering commitment to the MC and her willingness to do whatever it takes to protect and support them. As they eventually calm down and return to their normal state, she holds them close, reassuring them of her love and presence.

Together, they face the aftermath of the intense emotions, and Jasira remains a steadfast and devoted partner. Throughout this harrowing experience, she proves that her love knows no bounds, and she will stand by the MC's side through every storm and challenge that comes their way.

SORIN:

As Sorin opens the door and witnesses the MC's sudden transformation into what seems to be a dragon-like creature, her eyes widen in shock and concern. The intensity of the MC's fury is overwhelming, and the physical changes in their body are unlike anything she's ever seen. Despite her own experiences with self-control and resilience, she can't help but be taken aback by the sheer force of the MC's anger.

In that moment, Sorin's instinct to protect kicks in, and her mind races to find a way to calm the situation before it escalates further. She knows that if the MC continues in this state, the consequences could be catastrophic, and she can't bear to witness the potential destruction that might follow.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she steps closer to the MC, trying to get their attention amid the fury. Her voice is steady, though tinged with urgency, as she addresses them, "Hey, [MC's name], it's me, Sorin. You need to take a deep breath and find your center. This isn't you, and I know you don't want to let your anger consume you like this."

Sorin's eyes never leave the MC, her focus solely on trying to connect with them and bring them back from the brink. She draws on all the empathy and understanding she has developed through their time together, hoping to remind the MC of the strength and control they possess within themselves.

Despite her own fears, Sorin remains composed and determined. She knows that panicking or showing her own distress won't help the situation. Instead, she channels her inner strength to stay by the MC's side and provide a sense of stability and reassurance.

As the MC's screams of fury start to subside, Sorin continues to speak softly but firmly, "You are in control, [MC's name]. You can reign in this anger. Remember who you are, the person I've come to know and care for. Breathe with me, focus on your breath, and let the rage subside."

Sorin's soothing words, coupled with her unwavering support, create a lifeline for the MC to grasp onto amidst the storm of emotions. Slowly, the transformation begins to recede, and the MC's features return to their human form.

As the MC gradually regains control, Sorin wraps her arms around them in a comforting embrace, assuring them that she's there and that they're safe. In that moment, she feels an even deeper sense of connection to the MC, knowing that she can be a source of solace and strength for them, even in the face of their most intense emotions.

The nobleman's fear has turned to awe and gratitude, realizing the RO's calming presence prevented a disaster. Sorin glances at the nobleman, offering a subtle nod of acknowledgment before returning her focus to the MC. She knows that while this encounter may have been a frightening ordeal, it has also highlighted the immense bond they share and the power of love and understanding to anchor them both in even the most turbulent of moments.

This will be part 1, part 2 will include the RO's that are missing her, I'll just update this post when done, It could be in the next couple of days or so.

#tbotd #The Blood of the Dragon #RO's #if game

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justminawrites · 1 year

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The Portrait

AO3

Summary: Syrah holds an impromptu group therapy session to take everyone's minds off the curse-curing crystal. Somehow the topic drifts to First Loves i.e. first portraits, and Whitney is peer pressured into revealing the truth of the first colourful picture he'd ever laid eyes on.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

“All right, that’s enough– get in the therapy bubble, all of you!”

Whitney languidly opened one eye to witness the debacle unfolding before him.

It was a perfectly normal day for the Cursed Princess Club, the birds were twittering and the weather in the Haunted Forest behind the Pastel Kingdom was uncharacteristically pleasant, enough so that Syrah had scheduled an impromptu tea party (much to poor Curtis’ chagrin) complete with picnic blankets, freshly baked goods, and the most motherly attitude she could muster up in the wake of Prez’s absence.

Whitney wasn’t sure where exactly Calpernia had gone but had taken one look at the withering glare Curtis’ shot Syrah behind a tray of slightly steaming muffins and realised he’d probably be safer not knowing.

It must be something to do with the gala anyway, everything did these days.

Syrah had intended on lightening the mood after the disaster that was Gwen’s Dinner Party, but the impending introduction of a curse-breaking crystal had soured everyone’s appetites for the usual fluffy gossip that doubled as a means of relieving tension in the club. Dragging a begrudging Saffron along, the Pinocchio-fied princess held a mandatory sit down to discuss the pros and cons of portraits being used to arrange marriages (a topic she’d found in one of Prez’s abandoned lecture portfolios).

Whitney happened to be meditating nearby when the first sign of disagreement began.

Thermidora knocked over a cup of tea onto Abbi’s new dress, but instead of getting angry, the 80-year-old teenager tutted, shook her head and said something along the lines of ‘-see, this is why you need the crystal more than I do.’

This simple, offhand comment set off a chain reaction across the entire tea party and within a matter of minutes everyone was at each other’s throats about why a curse-breaking crystal would be the worst thing that’s ever happened to them.

Pillows were thrown, names were called and it looked like it was going to turn into a real brawl until Syrah picked up a metal tray and banged on it loudly with a pair of dessert tongs.

“That’s enough!” She repeated, setting down the tray, “Bubble. Now. You too, Whitney!”

Whitney started as she stabbed the dessert tongs in his direction accusatorially, but obliged. Everyone at the CPC was a force to be reckoned with, in their own way, and he had no intention of having more than one member be angry at him.

Once they were all sitting in a circle, Whitney sandwiched between Saffron and Monika, Syrah (on the other side of Saffron) released a breath.

“Now we all agreed that we’d wait till Prez got back to talk about the crystal didn’t we?”

“Yes Syrah,” a chorus of girls, and Saffron, echoed obediently. Whitney pretended to be deeply interested in the red-and-white fibres of the picnic blanket to avoid meeting her eyes.

Nobody had asked him what he thought about the whole curse-breaking crystal situation, but of course, why would they? Whatever claim he had on the item was likely lower than even Frederick; not that he coveted it of course. As far as he was concerned his curse wasn’t a curse at all but the consequences of his behaviour. A punishment that had slowly begun to flare up more and more since he’d gotten here.

“Great! Then let’s forget about all this woe-is-she business and get back to talking about what really matters!”

“But the history of portraiture is so bo-Oring,” Abbi whined, draping herself across a tired looking Renée, who sighed in agreement. A murmur of assent seemed to ripple through the Bubble as the princesses looked at one another and winced.

“You know Prez’s lectures never fail to put me to sleep, Syrah.”

“Yes, that’s why we won’t be doing history but your-story instead!” Syrah replied, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Forget about the ‘Olden Days’– this group discussion is going to be all about your very first portrait-crush!”

A chorus of oohs and aahs filled the glade, as the prospect of a fun, shared experience, temporarily overshadowed the gloom of a cure. Whitney must have looked confused, because both Saffron and Monika simultaneously leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Its like your first crush-“ Monika began.

“-but only from seeing their portrait.” Saffron finished.

“I had mine when I was only twelve,” Syrah grinned, eyes sparkling, “What can I say, I was a pretty popular child.”

“Yeah,” Saffron scoffed, “Or your parents just wanted to get rid of you as soon as possible.”

She smacked his uncursed arm and he yelped.

“Wait, aren’t portrait crushes usually the result of a marriage proposal.. or an impending one?” Monika asked, anxiously twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

“Don’t tell me you got proposed to when you were–”

“Mm, yeah,” Syrah’s momentary preening turned tart, her lips curling into something like disgust, “–and he was well into his twenties too. Luckily my father saw right through his charade.”

“He hired a man to paint him ten years younger, but the artist did his job too well and my parents insisted on meeting him in person. Long story short, there’s a reason I don’t wear chevron.”

Saffron fell strangely silent and Monika turned a greenish purple colour, looking like she was either about to choke or vomit or both. Even Whitney felt a twinge of pity stirring in his chest for the once tween-aged girl; therapy bubble indeed.

“Anyway,” Syrah continued, completely oblivious to her friends discomfort, “Who’s next?”

“I haven’t had mine yet,” Abbi sighed, catching only the tail-end of the mildly horrifying conversation, “Though I don’t think it’ll ever happen.”

“Oh don’t say that, Abbi,” Syrah frowned, pulling the girl in for a hug, “It just means that when it finally happens, it’ll be all the more special won’t it?”

“I guess so,” Abbi huffed, turning to the lobster princess on her right, “What about you, Thermidora?”

“Lobsters are excellent portrait-connoisseurs,” Thermidora replied easily, waving her large, clawed arms inches away from Monika’s face, “I had many a suitor in my day, but none ever caught my eye quite like Benedict did.”

“Was there something different about his portrait?” Syrah prompted as Monika burst into a puff of feathers and landed in Whitney’s claws. He steadied the quaking magpie on his other shoulder to keep her out of harms way.

“Oh yes,” Thermidora resumed, unbothered, “He had the most well-kept moustache I’d ever seen, on a man or a lobster. It was quite the fad at the time!”

“Hear that Saffron,” Syrah snickered, elbowing her friend, “Lobster or man..”

“Oh, lay off would ya.”

“I- I haven't had mine yet either-” Monika twittered once she’d recovered her breath.

“But I can’t really sit still long enough to get one. Sitting still means I have to keep quiet, keeping quiet means all I can listen to are the thoughts in my head, and one thing leads to another and I get so anxious about it all that I just–“

The magpie squeaked as if to make her point and slumped unto herself.

“You could try listening to some relaxing music while they paint,” Jolie chimed in from across the circle.

“Or Read A Book.” Renée scribbled on her pad of paper.

“It shows that you have hobbies and interests!”

“Sorry.. um.. am I interrupting?”

The CPC looked up to see a familiar golden head hover at the edge of the glade, his bright green getup easily marking him out from the trees and foliage.

“Frederick!” Syrah exclaimed, waving over the young prince, “Not at all! Are you looking for Gwen?”

Whitney held up a hand in greeting which he mimicked, albeit hesitantly, once he caught his eye. Though the dinner was almost a catastrophe, Whitney remembered feeling relief burst in his chest when Frederick had called him his friend and saved their cover.

“Uhm.. yes. Is she- is Gwen- uh- around?”

“No, she’s probably busy getting ready for the gala,” Syrah huffed, “-but you’re welcome to join us.”

“Yes! Come, come!” Thermidora echoed.

Frederick looked like he’d rather pull a llama uphill in a makeshift cart again but swallowed his disappointment like a champ and reluctantly walked over to take Monika’s place.

“We’re talking about first portrait-crushes,” Syrah explained quickly and watched as the young boy brightened but then immediately turned pale.

“O- oh, I see.”

“So,” Abbi nudged after an uncomfortable pause, “Was Gwen your first?”

“My family doesn’t have the best reputation with portraits,” Frederick admitted, beads of sweat forming on both sides of his temple as the rest of the club members fell silent to hear his story.

“Our castle was haunted for years, and Father didn’t see the value in paying for an exorcism so all the pictures we commissioned were.. interesting, to say the least.”

“Oh! A friend of mine had the same problem!” Jolie interrupted, popping open her eye sockets to dig around for a picture. Whitney watched Frederick’s face turn two shades lighter; some curses would definitely take a while to get used to.

“Here!”

Everyone leaned in to see the palm-sized sketch the princess had dug out from her eyeless void; though barely qualifying as a portrait, the distinct silhouettes of a king, a queen and a young princess with green hair was overshadowed by a looming maw of darkness punctuated by two sharp jewels of red light, burning like coals.

“No matter where they went, the shadow seemed to follow them!” Jolie explained cheerily. Now it was Saffron’s turn to look perturbed.

“In the end, they gave in and had the exorcism. Good thing they did too, apparently the medium had foreseen that my friend only had three days left to live..”

“Did they... ahem.. ever find out what it was that was haunting them?” Saffron asked gruffly, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice by coughing.

Jolie turned her sightless eyes on him then, a wicked grin spreading over her features as she leaned in to finish her tale.

“No,” She didn't budge an inch, “But the king and queen had it released into a haunted forest right behind their castle.. a forest just... like... this.. one..”

“BOO!”

Saffron screeched as two glowing red orbs lit up inside her eye sockets, and toppled backwards into Syrah taking the both of them down in panic. Frederick clung to Whitney in fear, temporarily displacing Monika from his shoulder, the latter squawking and spluttering as she launched herself onto Renée’s head and hid in her soft blonde hair.

Jolie giggled amidst all the hysteria and knocked on her temples with the flat of her palm a few times until the small, unmistakable form of a mouse popped out into her palm, blinked in surprise, then took one look at Whitney and scurried away for its life.

“Everyone’s a critic.” She shrugged noncommittally. He almost snorted.

“Get. Off.” Syrah huffed, extricating herself from Saffron as she tried to maintain a semblance of dignity but it proved to be a struggle since he’d already passed out cold from all the excitement. Frederick sheepishly dusted off his friend’s shoulder and scooted away, embarrassed.

The sun had begun to inch towards the horizon, smearing the sky in yolky oranges and browns, studded with milky white stars.

“Alright,” Syrah began once everyone’s heart rates had returned to normal, “Where were we?”

“Maybe we should call it a day, Syrah,” Monika quipped, peeking out from under Renée’s hair.

“Nonsense,” She frowned, gesturing for Curtis to pass her a butter-knife, “We haven’t heard Whitney’s story yet!”

Whitney blanched as all eyes now turned to him curiously. Even Curtis, who’d been appearing and disappearing from this conversation at whim paused to flick the cutlery right at Whitney’s face.

“I’m sure you must’ve received tons!” Syrah said, snatching it out out of the air, a hair’s width away from his eyeball.

“I don’t-“ Whitney gulped, pretending to remain unaffected by the attempted assassination that no one else had noticed.

“Don’t be shy,” Renée held up her sketchpad comfortingly.

“Yeahmmff, we’re all ears, cat-man,” Abbi mumbled sarcastically, mouth filled with macarons. It seemed that she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about Whitney’s status as a club member, though she commended his effort to help out.

He looked around helplessly but even Frederick had perked up now, intrigued by the idea of discovering more about his strange friend and his foreign mannerisms.

“Portraiture was difficult for my family as well,” Whitney caved in and began when he realised there was no getting out of this one, “-but our reasons were not supernatural, at least, not as far as was told.”

“The Monochrome Kingdom has a very particular relationship with colour; it was both a treasure and a taboo. Nothing in the kingdom naturally produces colour on its own, from the grass to the cloud cover, everything came in shades of either grey, white or black - so any products that did require other hues had to be imported. Raw dyes and paints were especially reserved for the nobility and only brought out during the most important occasions, and even then what was left was quite muted and dull.”

A blanket of silence descended over the CPC as they watched the former prince recall his home with a mixture of guilt and pity.

“I myself hadn’t seen a single bright colour till I turned 17,” Whitney continued in his usual flat manner, but Frederick thought he could hear something like wistfulness in his friend’s tone.

“And much like everything else - it came from outside the kingdom.”

“But the Monochrome Kingdom is very well-renowned,” Thermidora mused, claw on chin, “Even under the sea, it was quite the popular subject of debate– surely you must have gotten far more alliance-based proposals.”

“One would assume as much,” Whitney agreed, “-but if there’s anything the King and Queen loved more than their wealth, it was their privacy. Before Blacquelyn was born, they didn’t even bother attending galas or parties.”

“I’m embarrassed to admit, I was ignorant to the outside world for much of my youth. Perhaps that was why I was so hasty to get married.”

“Oh right! I was wondering that too!” Monika chirped, fluttering back to his shoulder, “You got engaged to Prez awfully quick!”

“R-right.”

Frederick raised an eyebrow as Whitney’s demeanour shifted minutely; if he didn’t know better, his friend almost seemed.. flustered?

“As I was saying,” Whitney cleared his throat, “My parents valued their privacy and our obedience, so any portraits that were sent in were burned before either Greyden or I laid eyes on them.”

“It was the eve of my seventeenth birthday when everything changed.”

“Well don’t keep us on edge! Get on with it!” Abbi huffed; despite herself, she was starting to enjoy the story.

“Very well,” He acquiesced, “We had just finished one of our violent gladiator-style fights to win Father’s approval that week when a courtier came in to announce an invitation to a ball–“

“Woah woah woah– a WHAT?!” Syrah gasped.

He trailed away in bemusement as the CPC exchanged horrified looks between themselves.

“Wait, like actual fights, with real weapons?” Monika ruffled her feathers in alarm.

“Yes? But it was strictly torso and below the belt,” He added quickly, as though that made it any less appalling, “I nicked Greyden’s face once and my Father had me thrown in the Tiger Pit for three days.”

“Three.. days..” Saffron, rising from his fainting spell, looked at Whitney as though he’d just confessed to murder.

“You must have a lot of scars!” Jolie gasped; he nodded.

“Are you.. okay?” Renée volunteered, making way for Saffron to return to the circle, and Whitney shrugged.

“It was a long time ago,” He said, “And I learned to make peace with my experiences, different though they may be.”

“We’re always here if you wanna talk, ‘bout it, bud’,” Saffron sighed, passing him a pillow, which Whitney took bewildered.

“I- uh- Thank you, Saffron.”

“The courtier came in..” Frederick prompted finally, as a mixed silence descended on the group.

“Right- my parents had been invited to a ball being held the next day,” Whitney began again, stumbling over the newfound support he was unused to receiving, “It was a debutante ball.”

“A princess from a neighbouring kingdom had reached a marriageable age and they were holding a party to introduce her into society. Since it was such short notice, my father declined, but it was too late. I had already caught sight of him by then, and hunted the courtier down after supper.”

“I’m ashamed to say my methods weren’t the friendliest,” He admitted, knuckles tightening as he recalled an undoubtably violent memory, “-but after a lot of.. persuading.. I managed to convince him to tell me the whereabouts of the portrait that came with the invitation.”

“The stars must have aligned for me that day, because they hadn’t defaced it yet. The courtier led me straight it, and that’s when I saw her.”

The CPC was once again at the edge of their seat, now because Whitney’s tone had taken on a kind of softness, his claw-like nails relaxing for the first time since he sat in the circle.

“She had hair the colour of a sky I wasn’t born under, and eyes like a sun I’d never seen. It was the first time I’d ever seen someone so.. full of life. At that moment, I knew I had to have her.”

Whitney winced as he realised what he’d said.

“In hindsight, I realise that those were the whims of a spoiled, selfish prince who had never understood how to correctly treat another human being, but at the time, all I could think of was that if I met her, somehow my life would get better, even marginally.”

Frederick listened to all this, wide-eyed; why did Whitney’s story sound so familiar? Could it be that both of them shared a need for escape from their respective toxic family dramas– perhaps the former prince was a lot more like him than he’d assumed.

“So, what happened?” Syrah demanded, restless for the reveal, “Who was the princess?”

“I took the portrait to my father and insisted on getting married,” Whitney replied.

“AND?” Renée held up the pad of paper.

“He said no and had it burned.” He finished, “So I never found out who the princess was.”

The CPC groaned collectively, completely unsatisfied with the ending of the story but Frederick knew better than to give up hope. He’d noticed that his friend’s shoulders were tense– a tell.

Whitney was lying.. but why?

“Well,” Frederick rose, dusting off his trousers, “This has been really fun but I’ve got to get back before my Father notices I’m missing. Coming Whit?”

Whitney looked up puzzled, but then noticed Frederick subtle attempt at winking and hurried to his feet as well.

“Oh- yes- I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

Syrah narrowed her eyes at the two newest members of the club and crossed her arms, but before she could point out how suspicious they were being, Curtis appeared once more, now looking a little more mellow than before.

“If you’ll excuse me princess, it’s well after twilight and I need these dishes to entertain the rest of the club members tomorrow. I trust you’re finished with your therapy group?”

“Oh, Curtis–”

Whitney didn’t end up hearing the rest of her sentence, since Frederick hastily bowed a goodbye and yanked him out of the glade, much to the disappointment of the other princesses, who were only starting to get used to the strange striped, tiger-man.

Once they were far enough that he was sure they couldn’t be overheard, Frederick turned to his friend and gave him an awkward, one-armed hug.

“What–“ Whitney seemed to freeze at the touch until Frederick pulled back (it was like hugging a rock anyway), and shook his head knowingly.

“I don’t know why you lied about the portrait,” Frederick began, watching as Whitney’s claws involuntarily curled into fists, “-but you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“I just want you to know, I consider you one of my closest friends.”

“Thank you,” Whitney’s shoulders slumped, and Frederick nodded, turning back to the path at hand.

After a few moments of reflective silence, only punctuated by the occasional cicada chirping, the former prince released a long, drawn out breath.

“I lied so they wouldn’t discover the truth,” Whitney said finally, “I didn’t want Calpernia to pity me– she was the princess in the story.”

Frederick had guessed as much. He offered him an encouraging look, prompting him to continue.

“My father burned the portrait, yes, but only after I had found out who the princess was. The courtier informed me that it was a neighbouring princess, from the polygon kingdom. So I hid it in my room and approached my father with a marriage proposal the very next day.”

“He laughed in my face first,” Whitney said ruefully, “But I kept asking, the next day and the next and the next, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He had the guards search my room and found Calpernia’s portrait and burned it right in front of me.”

“That’s awful,” Frederick couldn’t help himself. He was usually good at keeping his emotions well hidden but the monochrome prince’s tales always had a way of eliciting a reaction from him.

“I still refused to give up,” Whitney nodded, “My obsession with marriage, and Calpernia, heightened tenfold. I became convinced that she was the only way out of the hell that had become my home.”

“I studied and fought relentlessly, and met every morsel of praise my father offered me with ‘let me marry her.’ This displeased him to no end. He had me take ten lashes for each time I mentioned her name. Still, I kept at it. Eventually my mother caved and began accepting portraits from influential families both within and outside the kingdom in an attempt to placate the monster I was becoming.”

“But even then I didn’t budge,” He shook his head, “My fixation with Calpernia’s burnt picture had grown so intense that the rest of the women looked paltry and lacklustre in comparison. It would be three years of constant quarrelling with my parents before an artist was brought in to paint my portrait, for the sake of a proposal.”

“They gave in?” Frederick asked, surprised.

“Not exactly,” Whitney frowned, “My parents didn’t care what I wanted, they’d sooner have me wed to a daughter of monochrome nobility, so they could still have control over their oldest son.”

“But every time they invited one over, I’d find a way to miss the event. Pleasing them no longer mattered, nothing mattered, except getting what I’d been denied for so long. I’d lock myself in and when my father had the doors removed, sneak myself out. I’d send Greyden in my place, cause a scene, sabotage the food, even hide out in the Tiger Pit to avoid these events.”

“I got punished, of course, but it all seemed worth it when my parents finally, finally yielded, realising they couldn’t stamp the insubordination out of me no matter how hard they tried. So they sent my portrait to the Polygon Kingdom, along with a proposal to marry their oldest daughter.”

“Nearly four years later, on my twenty-first birthday,” He stopped suddenly, forcing Frederick to turn around, “-I saw her again.”

“No longer a portrait in my mind, but a person of flesh and blood; Calpernia was beau- um.. she exceeded my expectations.”

Whitney was now completely flustered, and Frederick realised he’d never seen his friend blush before, even the edges of his tiger stripes seemed to glow with a reddish hue.

“I was drunk with power, dizzy with winning for the first time in my life,” Whitney said sheepishly, almost like he’d forgotten anyone else was there, “-that when Calpernia confessed to me that she might be in love with a male nurse.. I reacted rather poorly.”

“The rest is history.”

“Why didn’t you tell her any of this when you apologised?” Frederick asked, leaning against a nearby tree.

“Because it wouldn’t have made a difference,” He replied matter-of-factly, “None of it could erase all the hurt and suffering I’d caused Calpernia.”

“But don’t you think it’s unfair–“

“It was unfair to make her the object of my salvation, when she isn’t an object at all,” Whitney interrupted without malice, “She wasn't and will never be responsible for my unwarranted affection. It isn’t her obligation to care about me.”

“I- I see,” Frederick’s mind was so abuzz he wondered if he imagined his hair twitching with all the thoughts inside it.

“If I was worth forgiving-“ Whitney continued, “-it should be based purely on my actions alone. Not on any excuses regarding my upbringing.”

“Do you still love her?” Frederick blurted out, expecting his friend to revert to mortification but the former prince’s face remained indifferent, perhaps even a little sad.

“I don’t think what I felt was love as much as it was desperation,” Whitney admitted.

“I don’t think I could ever love Calpernia as much as she– oh. Spider.”

Frederick jolted back as Whitney reached over and easily plucked a small, black arachnid from what was indisputably his blonde hair, and tried to stay calm as his friend released it back onto the tree.

He immediately put several steps between him and the bark of the old oak, watching it crawl onto the lowest branch before disappearing into its leafy folds– Frederick could’ve sworn the little insect winked at him as it vanished.

“D-Do you think it was there the whole time,” Frederick stuttered, forgetting their conversation as he now imagined the spider crawling around in his hair for hours without him knowing.

Whitney did snort then, and clapped the young prince’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Let’s get you back home.” He said, with a small smile.

As the two of them made their way back to the plaid kingdom, deep in the Haunted Forest, miles away, a tiny spider crawled onto the palm of a certain blue-haired, gold-eyed club president returning from her journey, to tell her something she would certainly be very interested in knowing.

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maboroshi-no · 10 months

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(If you have answered this question before, please forgive me)

Recently, I finished watching your videos about Hamefura, and I'd like to know what you think about the Hamefura pirate game.Would you like to share your opinions on it?

And thanks for your translation!

Hello!

What I thought about the game?

Hmmm... I am not sure I can organize my thoughts well, so I'll just list whatever comes to mind, if it's okay.

It is nice to play as Katarina and being able to romance the guys. I was beyond happy to be able to play Keith's route, and it was interesting to be able to witness Nicol and Alan ending up with Katarina. I was looking forward to Geordo's route, but I was utterly disappointed by it, because Geordo is so out of character. I even wonder if the game staff hates him... As for Rozy and Silva, I was pleasantly surprised. I didn't expect much of their routes since they were original characters, but their routes were really interesting and they grew on me. Though, Rozy's route ended in disaster and I wonder if I should pretend it never happened.

I have written more details about what I thought of the routes in this post.

The bad endings are meh most of the time, but the another endings really take you by surprise! I was literally O_O "what the hell is happening...?" when the Mary another ending and the Geordo another ending unfolded before my eyes!

This game is also very unique in the way that, unlike normal otome games, playing a route is not really about making a capture target fall in love with the heroine, but on the contrary, making the heroine fall in love with the chosen capture target.

The gameplay is also nice. I really loved that there were changes of POV, like in the light novel. It is really interesting to see the thoughts of the capture targets, their worries, mindsets, etc., and it feels like you are supporting both Katarina and the capture target when you play the routes? I am not sure if it makes sense? The mental meeting gameplay is really fun since the choices are always so wacky, and you know that a wrong answer will put you in a bad or another ending. As for the memory scenarios, I am not a big fan, since they are just text, no visual. I also liked that each time you finish a route, new content is unlocked in the common route, which gives you more context about what the capture target was thinking at a specific time. It makes restarting the game less boring, though at least the Jump feature enables to redo a route in minutes.

I love that Alan's route enables to end up with Mary, which makes it a joint Alan's and Mary's route. It is like Alan is sharing his route with Mary.

Ah, I also liked the Fortune Lover bits. You end up wondering what happened in that game.

The Witch plot was really intriguing. In the middle of the route, you keep wondering if she is OG!Katarina, and you even end up talking to the real OG!Katarina.

Also, while playing the game, I found the characters a bit OOC at times. Like, no one really interferes once you have landed in someone's route. But I guess it is necessary to give the capture target some alone time with Katarina. They also conveniently forget at times that Maria has healing magic just for the sake of the plot.

I deeply regret that Raphael and Sora were not in the game. I would have loved to play their routes.

...and what else? Ah, yes! Magic is used a lot in the game, which is a nice change from the canon story!

...And I guess, that's all? Nothing else comes to mind.

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bomberqueen17 · 2 years

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reply-replies on ch 7

snipertrifle replied to your post fic update: growing out ch 7

Re:punchlines - one of the things I really like in your fic is how “messy” and organic everything feels. It feels much more like moments in a world than events in a story

ha, yeah, that’s the asthetic I’m going for!! A lot of works of fiction have this very like..... ship in a bottle sort of feeling. I’m thinking like-- Norman Rockwell paintings, right? The ones with crowd scenes? Every single person in the image is reacting to the central event of the painting, everyone is raptly interested in whatever minor drama is unfolding, there is never anyone just passing by or anyone who hasn’t noticed what’s happening yet or anyone just incidental to the composition, every single person in the frame is raptly invested in whatever thing is going on. And I get it, that’s good visual storytelling, but it always annoyed the shit out of me because while his images were extremely realistic, that’s just not ever how the world works. In a crowd scene of 20 people witnessing a boy asking a girl out I can see like five of them being like “aw that’s cute”, sure, but like, most of them would either be like “ew that was such an awkward phase of my life I feel for these kids and it’s gonna be a disaster anyway” or, like, “if I cross the street rn am i gonna get hit by a car” or something. Having twenty people all staring raptly at the young couple in vaguely supportive ways is just sort of bizarre-looking actually.

And I just really like telling stories where not everyone is privy to the Main Protagonist’s Innermost Thoughts and so isn’t totally up on what’s going on and isn’t necessarily on the same page, because they’ve got their own shit. It’s not really possible to tell a story like that in any kind of detail, so it’s mostly just alluding to ongoing offscreen stuff, but I just-- that’s what I find satisfying. And it’s probably why I wind up telling 300k-word stories all the time, LOL.

msilverstar replied to your post fic update: growing out ch 7

Excellent chapter, both Ves being comforting and Roche being melodramatic, I just realized it's like the books he loves

oh gosh yes it IS like those books, sort of.

Well I mean-- think about poor Vernon’s life. He’s grown up kicking around various brothels etc., which is not going to give him much of a great outlook on the concept of romantic/sexual love. He gets as far as his teenage experimentation phase, never really having experienced attraction, and then falls into the orbit of the fucking King, who takes a shine to him and proceeds to have a very bizarre but very sincere love affair with him and sure he means well but there’s literally no ethical and healthy way for an emotionally-stunted ruler of a nation to have any kind of relationship with a teenaged subject of literally zero standing. I explore this a bit with Saskia, that Iorveth is literally worshipping her as a god and yet they’re also fucking; she’s clearly got to be careful about how it works, and also has gone to some lengths to make sure he has other supports in his life. Foltest never really managed that, or even knew he ought to. And the fucking king cheats on him, too, hammering home that Vernon could never really be enough on his own, could never be acknowledged-- how is that, as a huge basis for your relationship? gotta do a number on you-- and then the king fucking dies.

So Vernon has had like. Absolutely no normal romantic interactions in his entire life to date. Nothing he has done has been in any way normal. And he’s spent his whole life reading these lurid novels, and actually some of what he has experienced is probably closer to those novels than most people’s real life.

So i’m just saying, like-- if there’s anyone in the world who has no fucking clue how to behave, it’s Vernon fucking Roche. So I could see how, for him, climbing a castle wall to spy on a love interest is a perfectly reasonable and valid thing to do. I had originally come up with the idea of him climbing the wall just to be sort of cracky, but then I concepted it out a little bit and was like wait, he actually would do that though, and so we have this delightful little treat.

I invite you to contemplate whether anyone else might have also climbed this tower.

#my writing #replying to replies #peace-tied

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occupyhades · 3 months

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Backstabber Watch: The Abyss of Belial

Backstabber Watch focuses on the Children of Belial: Despicable Backstabbers & Dirty Double-Crossers.

Wherever you go and whatever you do, you will be cursed. Deuteronomy 28:19 (NLT)

There is no darkness or deep shadow where the workers of iniquity can hide. Job 34:22 (BSB)

‘Cursed is he who strikes down his neighbor in secret.’ And let all the people say, ‘Amen!’ Deuteronomy 27:24 (BSB)

So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? Luke 16:11 (NIV)

For the LORD is God, and he created the heavens and earth and put everything in place. He made the world to be lived in, not to be a place of empty chaos. “I am the LORD,” he says, “and there is no other." Isaiah 45:18 (NLT)

And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne. And there were open books, and one of them was the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to their deeds, as recorded in the books. Apocalypse 20:12 (BSB)

And if anyone was found whose name was not written in the Book of Life, he was thrown into the lake of fire. Apocalypse 20:15 (BSB)

#treason #chaos #faithless #derelict #judgement #damnation

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mugunghwc · 10 months

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unprompted ask / always accepting

@badheart said: "This was so worth it," Jiro grinned as they watched Idachi losing it from a fair distance. He had offered the saloon a nice amount of money to fuck up Idachi's hair, which was a perfect bright pink colour now. "Honestly, I didn't have to pay as much as I thought. I guess they hated him, too." Jiro looked down at his phone. He would send the video later. First, that prick had to return to work, and thanks to Rei, he knew that he had an important meeting. Hopefully, she could witness the disaster firsthand.

ryo hadn't been told much, other than ' it would make sense soon ' as they watched a salon from afar—leaving him to ponder whether they were waiting for someone, or if it was the owner who they were after for some kind of debt. he couldn't recall in his memory, but his brother seemed certain that this was the place. he had been waiting in the car while jiro exchanged some words with the employees, which only added to his confusion, as he refused to elaborate just yet. whatever it was... it brought a grin to his features.

as things unfolded, ryo would learn that their ' target ' was a blond man, probably nearing his forties, who had entered & taken a seat without waiting for long. must've been one of their appointments—ryo concluded, but this still didn't offer much. he wasn't one to pry too much, & neither was jiro the sharing type, which meant waiting patiently while his brother fidgeted with something ; be it tapping his foot against the car's floor, or drumming his fingers against his knee. ryo had grown used to it. his back completely rested against his seat while waiting for something to happen, & when it did—oh, he'd know it, thanks to the laughter that elicited from his brother's lips.

ah, so that was it. his brows were arched upon seeing the man yell at one of the employees, while his hair was no longer blond & but a bright neon pink. it made him wonder not only who this man is, but how much had jiro offered to the employees to take the fault. before he could ask, though, his brother had offered a bit more of information, until letting him know that was his girlfriend's boss... or well, superior, trying not to give him too much credit with his position. it caused him to snort, looking at the phone that was aimed in the direction of the salon's window.

"what did he do to you, or her, for you to resort to this?" he wasn't chastising him for it, but was rather curious—amused, even, over the display. it made him chuckle, which was rare in it of itself when it came from ryo, but his brother's antics could have that effect on him. "better yet if he has to return to work like that." which ryo assumed was part of the reason his brother was laughing.

#badheart #.ic / way too many people tryna take the crown #.ask / never have any regrets after the game #verse 01. theory of beauty / main #this ask healed my soul. they're so precious

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breezeinmonochromenight · 3 years

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Cloud pulling the ultimate reverse uno card and flirting back. Can Zack(and the people witnessing it)survive that?

It’s not even a huge move either. Maybe Zack helps Cloud with something, or Zack takes Cloud out to cheer him up after a particularly bad day.

Whatever happens, they end up just outside of Cloud’s barracks. Cloud thanks Zack for the distraction — and he’d invite the SOLDIER 2nd in since it’s close to curfew, but knows his roommates won’t take it well — and Zack makes a comment about anything for the ‘cutest blonde he knows’ with a wink.

Cloud rolls his eyes, trying to will the red flush he can feel in his cheeks away, but can’t hide his own growing smile. Zack’s happiness was infectious, after all. “I mean it, Zack. Thank you, for everything. I...”

In the momentary silence that follows, and at a loss for words, Cloud lets himself act on impulse. The blonde raises himself up on his toes and presses his lips to Zack’s cheek. It’s a chaste, sweet little thing; over as quickly as it started and barely grazing the corner of the taller man’s mouth.

Cloud doesn’t stick around after the fact, flashing a brief but genuine smile at his friend before tucking his chin into his scarf and darting into the hallway toward his shared room.

Zack stands there as he watches Cloud disappear down the hallway, frozen to the spot save for the hand that slowly raises to touch his cheek. He’s so lost in the moment that he doesn’t even hear the loud whoop that gets muffled halfway through from some bushes in the distance.

—o—

Kunsel slowly unclamps his hand from his companion’s mouth and whispers harshly, glaring despite his helmet blocking out the expression almost entirely. “Man, for a Turk, you sure know how to blow your cover.”

Reno only offered up a totally unapologetic shrug and a smirk. “My bad, yo. Just thinking about what I’m gonna do with all the gil I’m about to take off your ‘Red Commander’s’ hands.”

Kunsel resists his initial urge to say ‘good fucking luck with that’ but decides it’d make for much better gossip just to watch that inevitable disaster unfold.

—o—

[Several Hours Later]

Angeal sighs, one hand perched on his hip and the other pinching the bridge of his nose as he stares at the figure floating in the Loveless Avenue fountain. “How did I know that I’d find you here?”

Zack:

#shinra electric blues #cloud strife #cadet cloud #zack fair #zakkura #clack #zack x cloud #ffvii #ff7 #crisis core #ffviicc #kunsel #angeal hewley #crisis core: final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7

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hxseok-honee · 3 years

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atlas heart || part 49

a/n : "the incantation comes from latin 'protego', 'i protect', and 'diabolica', a declension of 'diabolicus', meaning 'diabolic, relating to the devil'. it is unclear if the translation is meant to suggest 'protection from the devil' or 'the devil protects.'..."

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tag list!! [closed]

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_______________________________

“Jungkook, will you stop eating all the cookies please--”

“How come Jin gets to eat everything in sight, but I can’t--”

“Because Jin is an insatiable mountain troll with no human manners and six stomachs--”

“Aw, Yoongi, you’re so loving with your words!”

“Shut up, Jin.”

“Kim Seokjin, stop eating the fucking food!” Jimin watches with thinly veiled exasperation as chaos unfolds in Yoongi and Hoseok’s countryside cottage. They’d arrived a few days prior, spending the week together before dispersing for Christmas Day, just in time for the full moon. It had been a chaotic week at best -- verbal altercations were had over stupid things like gift-wrapping techniques, and several small fires had already occurred in the kitchen, mostly due to Taehyung’s ice cream maker.

But somehow, they’d made it to Christmas Eve. And, so far, this Christmas Eve had been spent watching Jin eat all the food as it’s being made and consequently be kicked out of the kitchen entirely by Hoseok. Jimin’s seated in the living room with a perfect view of the chaos happening at the dining table. Y/n’s next to him, reading quietly with her head on Jimin’s shoulder. She’s especially tired today, the full moon just over 24 hours away, so Jimin’s staying close to her.

Namjoon and Taehyung are seated in front of the fireplace, engaged in an intense game of wizard’s chess. Namjoon is beating Taehyung by a landslide, but Taehyung just will not give up, something that makes Jimin smile fondly.

There’s a bang from the kitchen, catching everyone’s attention. Hoseok turns slowly from where he stands at the oven, smiling sheepishly at them.

“I may have put the pie in for too long.” The room is a collection of groans and exasperated laughter, Jin’s complaints overpowering the rest.

“How the fuck do you make a pie explode?! It’s a pie!” Hoseok looks to Yoongi for help, but the boy only shrugs.

“The man’s right, babe -- pie’s not that hard.” Hoseok lets out an affronted scoff, moving to open the window over the sink to let some of the smoke from the oven out. Jimin feels Y/n snicker softly beside him, and when he looks down at her, she’s peering over the top of her book at the scene in the kitchen. She looks so peaceful and happy, even with eyes full of exhaustion. He adores her entirely, and he knows it’s obvious to everyone but her.

Her eyes flick up to meet his then, and, over the cries of outrage from the kitchen about not having dessert, he hears her whisper to him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin purses his lips, smothering the smile that’s rising to the surface. He only shakes his head, his expression judgmental.

“Not everything’s about you, Y/n, geez.” He laughs when she gives him a hard nudge with her elbow, and he moves to wrap his arms around her and trap her in his hold. She lets it happen, only grumbling noncommittally about being unable to read like this. He presses his lips to her temple stubbornly in response. “You have a lifetime to read -- let me hug you.”

“Alright, it looks like we’re having deconstructed pie for dessert, so everyone come eat!” Apparently, the argument about the oven disaster has ended, as Hoseok’s setting a pie on the table, a giant hole in the middle where it had imploded. Taehyung jumps up from his tragedy of a chess game and runs for the kitchen, socked feet sliding to a stop in front of the refrigerator. Plucking a big bowl of homemade ice cream -- its flavor to be determined -- from inside, he makes his way to the table and spoons a giant scoop into the pie’s battle wound. He gestures dramatically at it when he’s done.

“Problem solved!” Hoseok mimics him, gesturing just as dramatically at his disappointed boyfriend.

“The man’s right, babe -- problem solved!” The group laughs, everyone slowly making their way to the table to eat. Y/n sets her book on the couch, moving to stand, but Jimin stops her. From within his pocket he pulls a vial and shakes it, eyeing her knowingly when she groans.

“Ten seconds of pain, and then you can drown the taste out with some ambiguously flavored ice cream. If it makes tomorrow night more bearable for you, then ten seconds is nothing.” She smiles, taking the vial and uncorking it.

“Did you just admit to being someone who eats dessert before dinner?” She downs the potion in one go, eyes squeezed shut. She doesn’t see Jimin gazing at her lovingly, only to lower his eyes when she’s done. She hands him the vial and takes his hand, pulling him to his feet and toward the table.

“You promised me only ten seconds of pain before ice cream, so move faster, Park Jimin.” They take their seats in the chairs nearest them, Jungkook setting his plate down on Y/n’s other side and moving to join them. Tae, Yoongi, and Hoseok sit across from them, Jin and Namjoon taking the end seats. Namjoon leaves his seat after a moment, moving to pass out silverware and swap the ladle in Jin’s hand for a normal spoon. Jin refuses to give up his spoon of choice, glaring at the boy standing over him.

“Dude, I will fight you on Christmas Eve -- I have no qualms about fucking up the holiday spirit or whatever--”

“Stop.” It comes from Jungkook, spoken with a quiet urgency that halts all activity in the room. He’s standing just behind the seat he’d been about to take, his hand resting on the back of the chair. He ignores their questioning glances, his eyes locked on nothing in particular as he focuses his hearing on the open window. When he finds what he’s looking for, he meets Yoongi’s eyes, alarmed.

“I thought you said you put a barrier around your house.” Yoongi and Hoseok glance at one another, shaking their heads simultaneously as Yoongi looks back to the Gryffindor.

“We never got around to it…” But Jungkook’s stopped listening. And, for all the years of jokes, remarks, and complaints Jung Hoseok had ever made about the boy’s heightened senses, he can say with complete confidence later that Jeon Jungkook is the only reason he’s still alive. Because the only person in the room that’s ready for the unforgivable curse that’s shot though the open window, aimed squarely at Hoseok’s chest, is the boy who’d heard the call for death fall from its caster’s lips.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s across the room, launching his body at Hoseok’s over the dinner table and twisting in mid-air to throw his hand out toward the window. He’d never in his life attempted nonverbal magic -- not necessarily the most advanced of students -- but it’s said that wizards can create even miracles if they’re desperate enough. And this is nothing like the World Cup, when Hoseok had protected him from a nasty stunning curse -- the beam of light headed Jungkook’s way right now, in this moment of literal life and death, has been shot to kill. So desperation is exactly what produces the shield charm that emits from his entire body, exploding outwards and shattering all the windows in the house as it goes. The force of it blows them all back, throwing them to the floor and against walls with cries of shock.

And, while a shield is normally null against a curse so powerful, it seems Jungkook’s done more than just perform nonverbal magic for the first time. He’s produced a physical barrier -- an invisible pane of pure energy separating his enemies from his family. It takes out half of the kitchen as it goes, destroying the far wall completely and opening the house out to the cold night around them.

In the confusion of chaos and rubble, Y/n lifts her head from the kitchen floor, catching a glimpse of the group of people outside the house, all equally disarmed from the display of sheer strength they’d just witnessed. She counts 6 bodies, all donned in dark robes, and she knows immediately that this is a Death Eater attack.

Groaning, she drags herself to her feet, grabbing anyone she can get her hands on and pulling them with her, staying low to the ground. Jimin’s the first to follow, holding onto Y/n for dear life, but he can’t help the way he hesitates when he looks past the overturned dining table, the wood splintered and cracked amidst all the wasted food.

Because there in front of him, right where the initial wave of power had surged out from and disoriented them all, is something that is very much not human. When it rises to its feet, it stands to full height, and Jimin knows that it’s easily as tall as he is. Black fur as far as the eye can see, the end of its ears and tail painted grey -- its body practically ripples with strength as it moves, and it’s from behind a set of sharpened teeth and a massive jaw, so powerful it could probably break Jimin clean in half, that a low growl starts to rumble.

It becomes a terrifying snarl in a matter of seconds, those piercing teeth shining in the moonlight with deadly intent. Jimin can feel that he’s still moving -- that all of this is happening in slow motion as he runs for safety and that no time at all has actually passed -- but he feels his whole world stop, drowned out by the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, when the beast shifts. Preparing to attack, it turns its head at the last moment to meet his eyes, and Jimin sees then that he knows these eyes. He knows the way they look him over with guarded concern and the way they turn away from him as soon as they know he’s unharmed, silently telling him to find his own way out -- after all, Jeon Jungkook’s always made it clear he has better things to do than look after Park Jimin.

Jungkook presses all his weight into his back legs, crouching low for a moment so suspended in time that Jimin doesn’t even see him leave. But then he’s gone, wind rushing past Jimin’s face and blowing debris everywhere as the wolf takes off. After another hard tug from Y/n that pulls Jimin’s focus back to the matter at hand, he only hears when Jungkook finds his first target, the ripping of cloth and the hellish cry of pain ringing in Jimin’s ears like a nightmare.

Tripping over pieces of the ceiling and walls -- the back half of the house essentially crumbling in on itself -- Jimin finds the faces of each of his friends. They’re all there with the exception of Jungkook, who seems almost feral, if the shrieks of death behind them are anything to go by. The group stumbles from the side of the house through a door that’s comically useless at this point, and when they circle around to the back, it becomes clear that there are far more than 6 Death Eaters.

The group that had led the attack has all but been taken out now, Jungkook nowhere to be seen -- but he’s certainly left evidence of his presence there. Jimin can’t tell if these people are dead or still dying, but he doesn’t have time to sort through the discarded bodies to check. Behind the cottage is a field of tall wheat that's surrounded by forest-- a massive expanse of land -- and when they look into this field to the top of a hill not too far away, there’s another wave of Death Eaters lined up, these faces rather familiar to just two of his friends. Jimin hears swearing behind him, and then Hoseok’s pushing past him roughly, only stopped by Namjoon’s hand clamping down around his wrist.

“Don’t, Hoseok! We can’t do this -- there’s too many of them. We have to run--”

“They just tried to kill me, Namjoon! In my own home!” Hoseok whirls around and gets in his face, eyes wild. Jin tenses next to Y/n, one of his hands hovering over his pocket where his wand is. When she follows his eyes, she sees that the line of Death Eaters has started to approach.

They move slowly, as if they have all the time in the world. As if they have nothing to fear, organized and protected against this mismatched group of ambushed friends. She watches as they approach like predators waiting for the kill, and she knows that this is no simple Death Eater attack -- it’s a massacre.

And then, just as silently as he’d disappeared, Jungkook’s returned. Their attackers are given no warning, only registering that the wheat around them is rustling when one of them is violently pulled down into it. He’s gone in an instant, his screams echoing in the night as he’s dragged through the dirt toward the house.

The moment Jungkook emerges at the edge of the field, the Death Eater is flying through the air and crashing into the remains of the house, slung from Jungkook’s jaws like nothing more than a ragdoll. He lands not a few feet away from them, and Yoongi’s jaw clenches when he recognizes the bloodied face of a fellow Slytherin. Turning to lock his gaze onto the line of his old classmates, he pushes past the group and summons his wand from within the rubble of his home with nothing more than the flick of his wrist. It flies from deep within the ruins into its master’s hand with ease, and Yoongi spins it between his fingers casually once he has it.

“I really hope you guys all know how to cast shields as powerful as Jungkook’s -- otherwise, we’re fucked.” The wolf in question falls into line with Yoongi, his whole body shaking from the warning growl forming deep within his chest. The rest of the group follows, facing their enemies head-on.

From Jungkook’s other side, he feels a warm hand press into the top of his head, and he knows it instinctively. He can also feel the cold length of a wand, hidden easily in the darkness of his fur and beneath her flattened hand. Y/n keeps him there for only a moment -- knowing they only have a moment -- and presses her fingertips against his skull as if to hold him back. As if to stall him just long enough to tell him to be careful. And then the moment is gone and she’s wrapping her fingers neatly around her wand, releasing him with a whisper.

“Go.”

None of them can say how long they’ve been there -- every second that passes is another that they could lose their lives, so it feels like they’re there a lifetime. They’ve huddled into a small circle, surrounded completely. Jungkook is mobile, weaving in and out of their enemies at too fast a speed to ever be hit by a curse. He’s taking them out slowly, dragging them back into the darkness one by one while the rest work just to stay alive. Unlike at the World Cup, where every enemy shot fired was red, these beams of lights are all hauntingly green, glowing in the night sky -- a sign that things are different now, death standing only a few feet away in the form of old friends.

Every killing curse fired is met with an equally powerful shield, a wall that shatters the moment it meets its mark. They’re cancelling each other out, evenly matched in a battle that won’t end until someone gets tired -- until someone makes a mistake. The only sounds come from incantations, spoken by those of their group that cannot cast silently.

Hoseok and Yoongi fight much like their opponents, masks of guarded silence -- a reminder that while they’re on opposite sides of the war, they were once very much the same. The difference, of course, is that their old housemates are now murderers without remorse. But that’s not their only problem.

Y/n suddenly stumbles next to Jimin, and he can’t even tear his eyes away from the Death Eater before him to check on her. He can only reach for her with his free hand, gripping her wrist in panic, which she rips from his hold with a groan. She only barely manages to raise her wand in time to block the killing curse headed right for her head. The force of her shield colliding with the curse so close to her knocks her back, and she falls into the circle with gritted teeth.

Jimin steps in front of her, closing the gap in their circle and allowing her a moment to recover inside their circle. But she never returns to her spot, only curling in on herself and gripping at her head with a cry of pain -- she knows this feeling. The feeling of her skull splitting, her body rejecting itself as it turns into something unnatural -- something unhuman.

But this can’t be happening. The full moon is not tonight, something she confirms simply by rolling over in the dirt and looking up at the sky, in excruciating pain. She can see clearly that this cannot be her reality, yet the popping of her spine as it dislocates itself is very much real. Reaching out blindly, she latches on to the first person she can find, her hand clamping down around Hoseok’s ankle and squeezing with all her might. He hisses above her and manages to glance down long enough to see an expression of pain he’d long become accustomed to.

“What the fuck?!” It’s the first time he’s spoken in ages, his attention back on his opponent as he works out in his mind how this is possible. There’s no time to reason through what he knows, however, because Y/n’s teeth are clenching so hard she’s afraid they might crack, her grip on his ankle tightening painfully. Hoseok makes a snap decision then, calling out into the night.

“Jimin, listen to me.” The boy’s on his left, so focused on the shield he’s casting that he responds only once he’s successfully blocked the deadly beam of green light.

“What is it, Hoseok--”

“You have to take her into the forest. Now.” His instructions are muffled by the sounds of a curse crashing into Namjoon’s shield, unheard by their enemies, but Jimin hears him clearly. He also hears the urgency in Hoseok’s voice, telling him there’s no time for questions. “It has to be you, Jimin.”

He knows then what Hoseok’s saying, what he hasn’t had the chance to confirm himself. Y/n’s transforming on a night other than the full moon, and they’re out of time. He calls for Y/n then, reaching back for her.

“Y/n -- baby, listen to me. We gotta go.” There’s a moment of nothingness, only her groans of pain, but then he feels her hand slamming down into his and gripping hard. And then his body is working faster than his brain.

Stepping forward out of the circle and straight for the man that’s been trying to end his life all night, Jimin swings his arm out, bringing a new shield up with him as he goes. It hits the Death Eater from the side, catapulting him through the air. Just as he’s in the downward arc of his fall, he’s caught suddenly, torso trapped in Jungkook’s jaws as the wolf leaps into the air to capture his next target. They crash to the ground not far away, hidden away in the wheat.

Jimin pulls Y/n to her feet, pointing his wand out into the field as he runs for the treeline.

“Fumos!” The effect is immediate, smoke pouring out of his wand and swirling around him in a dense fog. It keeps them hidden as they make a beeline for the trees, allowing them safe passage. Jimin chances a look over his shoulder and sees that the smoke hasn’t passed over his circle of friends, ensuring that they’ll still be able to see clearly and protect themselves.

Y/n stumbles again as they run, but Jimin’s hold on her keeps her going, and she registers that he’ll be there for her transformation. Panic seeps in through the pain, and she calls out desperately for him to stop, her vision leaving her. Jimin can feel her struggling against him, but he tightens his grip and forces her to follow. They’re close to the treeline by now, but it won’t be enough until they’re completely hidden. And, although he can’t see where the wolf has gone with his old enemy, Jimin steps in something wet and everything suddenly reeks of blood, so he knows Jungkook is near. Apparently, Y/n can smell it, too, because she’s struggling harder now.

“Jungkoo-- Jungkook, stop him!” Jimin grits his teeth and stops, turning to face his girlfriend and pulling her forward. She crashes right into him, the force of his sudden movement propelling her straight into his arms. Her eyes are wide open but her vision’s completely blacked out, which Jimin can see in the fact that she won’t look at him. But he doesn’t need her to.

Ducking low, he wraps an arm around her waist and throws her over his shoulder, ignoring her cries of outrage as he races for the forest just ahead. She pounds her fists against his back, practically roaring with fury as she fights him. He only pushes on, telling himself he’ll let her be as mad as she wants later, if they’re still alive.

Once they make it into the forest, Jimin runs only far enough that he feels unseen before setting her on her feet. She’s immediately falling to the ground, crawling blindly away from him and clawing at the dirt in pain.

“Go away! Just go away!” Disappearing behind a tree, she swears at him loudly, looking for any outlet for her pain. Jimin only turns to the treeline, letting her curse him as he surveys the land around him for Death Eaters. All he sees is Jungkook in the distance, turning in circles in the field as if lost.

Jimin watches as the wolf races for their friends, sliding to an urgent stop and turning back again in confusion when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. He sees when Jungkook’s ears perk up at someone’s call, and his head is turning in Hoseok’s direction. Hoseok’s lips move, giving instructions Jimin can’t hear, but he knows exactly what’s been said when Jungkook’s whipping around to look at the trees.

Interestingly, the wolf hesitates, moving forward before stopping to looking over his shoulder. It’s only a moment, but it’s enough for Hoseok to point out at the forest urgently as he blocks another curse. Jimin can read Hoseok’s lips clearly then as the older boy calls out to Jungkook.

Jimin will die if you don’t go.

The chill that runs down Jimin’s spine at that moment, an omen playing a cruel joke on him, only worsens when he realizes that he’s stopped being able to hear Y/n’s pained gasps. A low whine rings out behind him, and it’s with bated breath that Jimin’s turning slowly on his heels.

Towering over him with an icy gaze locked on him is Y/n -- rather, it’s the part of Y/n that has no idea who he is in that moment. The eyes that see him only see through him, completely empty of anything that isn’t primal. Where Jungkook’s eyes are still his own even in a wolf’s body, these eyes don’t recognize him, and Jimin knows that fact alone will haunt him forever.

Yet, he isn’t afraid of her. He’s only afraid for her -- for the way she’s still curled in on herself, still in pain. He’s afraid for the way she blinks, thoughts muddled and lost, struggling to find herself in the darkness of her mind. He’s especially afraid for the way she finally gives in, losing her will to fight for herself. Her pupils shrink and grow until she’s focusing in on him, and Jimin knows by the way she tilts her head curiously at him that he’s got her attention -- and that’s never good.

When she takes a step toward him, he mirrors it with a step back, and that alone seems to set her off. She moves suddenly, closing the distance between them easily. She leans down until her snout is pushed close to his nose, snarling at him as he stays frozen where he stands. When she raises one clawed hand, he barely has time for a final thought before she’s swinging down at him.

Well, shit.

Suddenly, Jimin’s flying through the air and crashing to the ground a few feet away, rolling to a stop at the base of a tree with a groan -- but he’s in one piece. Lifting his head, he finds that he hadn’t been sliced to pieces by his own girlfriend. He’d been shoved out of the way by a wolf twice his size, the wolf in question now standing where he had just been.

Jungkook’s got his teeth latched around Y/n’s wrist, growling loudly to keep her attention on him. They stand there a few moments, eyes locked in a tense stare-down of dominance. Y/n eventually raises her other hand, claws gleaming in the moonlight, but Jungkook only growls again, a warning. It stops her, as if recognizing this moment, and, although she seems enraged by the display, she lowers her hand anyway.

Ripping her other, trapped, wrist from Jungkook’s jaws, she lets out her own snarl and steps toward him, and Jimin thinks these two might really tear each other apart. But Jungkook’s been here countless times, and he’s still of clear mind, so he knows exactly what to do.

Crouching quickly, he snaps his teeth at her ankles, sending her backwards. She roars angrily, but he persists, snapping at her feet again and again until she’s finally scurrying off into the forest with a cry of outrage. Jungkook watches her go before rushing to Jimin, startling the boy out of his shock.

The wolf sniffs at the air around Jimin, knocking him around with his massive head as he pushes his snout into Jimin’s torso, checking for injuries. Jimin’s lost for a moment, wondering exactly why Jungkook’s expressing so much concern when Y/n should be his priority, but then he remembers exactly what it would mean if he had been caught by one of Y/n’s claws.

Once Jungkook’s done checking that Jimin won’t be turning into a werewolf anytime soon, he’s gone, disappearing after his sister. Jimin only sits there, bruised and battered but alive all the same. Then he hears someone yelling Taehyung’s name in the distance, and he’s on his feet.

Rushing out to the field, he stops at the top of the hill, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the scene down below. His friends are still surrounded, and, although the number of Death Eaters has been severely reduced thanks to the merciless animagus running around, there’s still too many of them. But before he can rush to help, something happens, all too fast to process -- and Jimin has the displeasure of witnessing everything from that hill.

Down in the circle, the rest of the group is fighting for their lives. Many of the boys have sustained injuries simply from their own shields exploding too close to them -- pieces of the ground and debris from the house are thrown around, catching on their bodies in surface wounds they won’t even notice until the next morning.

There’s a special kind of desperation spilling off of Namjoon and Taehyung -- the only muggleborns in that circle -- and it’s making one of them reckless. Namjoon’s keeping his cool, as he’s been in the Order for months now and has had the battle training, but Jin’s having to compensate for small mistakes Taehyung is making out of fear. The Gryffindor’s only a boy, a boy targeted simply for being born. This is the first time he’s ever been faced with his own reality, and he’s terrified.

So when he slips on a piece of rubble at his feet, the only thing that keeps him alive is the fact that he’d moved his head a quarter of an inch to the left just in time. The killing curse flies past him and through the circle, passing Yoongi on the right and hitting a mark just past him -- that mark is the Death Eater that Yoongi had been battling all night.

The boy crumples instantly, the light in his eyes gone. Yoongi watches as he goes, his mind blank as the body crashes to the ground. And then he’s turning on his heel, everything slowed and muffled around him. The Death Eaters have all stopped, equally shocked from what’s just occurred -- after all, they’re just boys, too.

Yoongi hears Jin yelling Taehyung’s name, and he sees Hoseok rushing for him. He watches as Namjoon starts to run to Tae and then stop, raising his wand and choosing to keep guard instead, realizing that their fight isn’t over. Yoongi watches all of it with wide eyes, thinking then that this scene would be very different had the curse hit Taehyung as intended. He spins, staring down at the dead body below him, thinking that this is what Taehyung would have been. This lifeless, empty corpse. And that’s just too much for someone like Yoongi to deal with.

In that moment, the strength of the silent marksman is broken, shattered from within as he fights no longer to protect his own life but those of his friends. In that moment, he proves to be much more worthy than he’d ever thought himself before, breaking through that perpetual tendency to hide himself away — but it comes at a price. Because it’s in that moment that Min Yoongi, for all that he’d tried to free himself of that cursed name, finally gives in to the bloodline he’d spent his whole life denying.

“Protego diabolica!” The spell is cast like the roar of a dragon awakened, enraged -- the first time he’s spoken an incantation in years. It’s ripped from his lungs against his will, uttered with nothing but the urge to destroy, the need to bring pain down on his enemies so that they may never hurt his family again. That dark magic — so forbidden, so evil — follows the command of his left arm, quite literally brought to life by the malice in his eyes and the sweeping of his hand in an arc around himself. And for the first time in the 7 years Jimin had known the shy, self-loathing Slytherin — so guarded from the vulnerabilities of life — he watches from that hill as Yoongi loses control.

The fire that flows out of his hand like water -- icy and unforgiving -- spreads out around Yoongi like a wall of pitch black rage. It passes right over his friends -- they flinch at the foreign magic and its caster, who seems equally foreign to them now. They watch with awe as Yoongi commands the fire, forming a protective circle around them with ease. It almost seems to feed off of his rage, growing with every breath he takes and shrinking with the fall of his chest. He is a snake no more -- a dragon birthed of fire and blood stands in his place.

Jimin watches in pained silence as one of his closest friends loses himself to the war -- but even now, he can still see that Yoongi’s still there. And it’s Yoongi that will have to deal with consequences later, but right now he’s doing whatever it takes to save them. And that includes exploding with anger the moment he spots Jimin still up on that hill.

“Get your ass in here!” The ring of fire seems to swell with his outrage, and Jimin is in no place to refuse. The Death Eaters are still shocked and disoriented by the wall of fire they’re now faced with, and Jimin uses that to his advantage. Racing down the hill, he leaps into the circle, the cold flames licking at his ankles as they let him pass, recognizing him as a friend to their master.

Having seen Jimin’s success at passing through the ring, two of the Death Eaters rush at the wall, unaware of the nature of this dark magic. The moment they make contact with it, the fire senses their intentions, reacting accordingly. Jimin watches as they dissolve into nothing, shrieks of pain ringing out into the air as the fire consumes them. When he turns, he sees that Yoongi is shaken by this, his eyes conflicted as he watches two of his classmates cease to exist, remembering exactly what kind of magic he’s just brought into the world.

But when one of the last Death Eaters attempts to cast another killing curse into the circle, hoping to get through, the fire seems to act not on Yoongi’s command but on his instinct -- and his instinct is to block it. The flames explode outward, concentrating into a wall of protection and destroying the curse. And then they reach further, snaking out to overpower the boy who’d cast the spell, consuming him and his plea for mercy.

There’s only one Death Eater left, standing just outside the circle. Yoongi locks eyes with him, sees the trembling boy staring back at him with fear. They see each other, remembering simultaneously all the times they’d eaten together at mealtimes and suffered together during exam season. They’d grown up together. Just how they’d ended up here, neither of them can recall in that moment, and it destroys whatever innocence they’d had left.

Yoongi finally looks out to the field, his eyes flicking quickly before returning to the Death Eater. The boy hesitates, eventually stepping back. After another moment, he turns, running for his life and never looking back.

When he’s gone, the ring of fire fades, the wall tumbling down until all that’s left is a ring of earth around them that’s been burned to a crisp. Yoongi crumbles then, falling to his knees and staring at nothing. Jimin and Hoseok rush to him, eyes scanning him in concern. They all remain silent, words unable to express what any of them are feeling. Finally, Yoongi lifts his head, still unable to lock eyes with anyone.

“Is everyone okay?” They don’t answer his question, Jin only scoffing in shell-shocked disbelief.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi looks at his best friend, and he knows Jin can see right through him. They all can. He doesn’t respond, and they fall to silence again. Surrounded by bodies and destruction, unable to comprehend what’s happened. Unable to fathom how inexplicably broken they’ve become.

Just when they’re ready to face each other -- when they’re ready to face the aftermath of this night together -- a howl rings out from the forest, pained and haunting. They all lift their heads to stare in exhaustion at the treeline, outlined perfectly by the light of a moon that isn’t full. Yoongi chuckles darkly, shaking his head as he rises slowly to his feet and dusts off his pants before turning to look at what's left of his home with a long sigh.

“This family’s a fucking mess.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #park jimin #jimin x reader #AHupdate

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chocolate-cream-soldier · 2 years

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My Reaction to Gentleman Jack 2.04(yes it took me the whole week to process... hush) under the cut cause gif heavy, also reaction gifs are not mine, only emotions are...but it’s better than my rantings which I won’t subject you all to... so yeah..have fun witnessing me become an incoherent mess

Looks like Mariana is still ranting and Anne is like

Everytime Anne goes ADNEY!ADNEY!ADNEY!ADNEY!

Mariana:

Me:

Ugh Charles is here and especially in the light of the new info

The scene where Ann is playing cards with her Inlaws( the Listers are too good ha ha))

That Letter writing scene between the Ann(e)s came for me... like let me live gdi

Oh great Mariana is back to Whine...dang she is getting desperate!

When Anne said about Ann “SHE BRAVED THE WORLD'S OPINION JUST TO BE WITH ME”:

We be taking romantic walk in the park with the ex I see ....here for the dapperness tbh...oh well they are arguing again!

A Wild Ingham appears...

Ann is like... My wife is the greatest gift to humanity ...oh you were saying something..oh wait you want to propose marriage TO ME ?!!! BUT BUT

Her face tho when she got to know boywonder is here on the Priestleys' request

Mariana trying to put down Ann Walker :

Mariana making faces to camera:

Marian and Aunt Lister worrying about the Ann(e)s and Marian stanning Ann Walker like

The thing that I knew would happen ..inevitably happens

Ann Walker running down the stairs(hair down, in her night gown with her comfort shawl) to greet her wife, and Lister finally able to breathe when in Ann's arm

But also in all her disaster glory going "I shan't leave you again" all guilt ridden and anguished

Ann's face cause she feels something has gone VERY VERY VERY wrong!!!

Anne Lister in business mode while she stares into my soul and takes care of everything like

How dare that arsehole try to intimidate Anne and using Gentleman Jack as a slur!

Anne looking so disoriented at the end ....

So the dreadful thing has happened and now we are off to witness the fallout in whatever form it might come...(why Anne why)..and this is basically me after watching everything unfold

#gentleman jack #gentleman jack spoilers #ann walker #anne lister #mariana lawton #anne x ann #gj2.04 #raee watches gj #ramble mode:on #*gifs not mine

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codename-adler · 3 years

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...dance "til you find someone to die for...

What if instead of Seth, Riko tried to get rid of Aaron?

Chapter 9 ♟️ [table of contents]

(CW: blood, violence, threats, wounds, scars, abuse, alcoholism, bullying, talk of death)

Kevin could barely register anything happening that night at the banquet. It could have something to do with the growing and demanding itch to drink; his thoughts wouldn't focus on anything else than I can’t be sober right now. This couldn’t be happening. The peace and quiet he’d felt and seen in Aaron’s eyes, back in the changing room, had vanished the moment his own eyes met Riko’s. From then on it was only a matter of time until he broke.

He did stomach more than he though he could, though. And that was new.

He'd faced all his ex-teammates. He'd faced Jean. He'd faced Riko. He'd witnessed Neil’s death-wish of an outburst, he'd witnessed Andrew’s taunting.

And nobody stopped to give a shit about him.

What it would do to him, what it was doing to him. The repercussions would be horrifying, deadly… It’s like they forgot how far Riko’s network went; what he could do, what he would do. To Andrew, and Neil, yes, but to everyone around them too. Like Kevin, who was already living on borrowed time. Like Jean, who’d be the scapegoat of this night, this night that might be his last with the shit Neil, Andrew and the Foxes were pulling.

Why haven’t you tamed him yet, Kevin?

Why hasn’t he learned to keep his mouth shut?

Why haven’t you broken him already?

You can’t possibly be this stupid, Kevin…

The thing is, Kevin absolutely could, and not in a fun and endearing way. His stupidity who cost him, and everyone around, greatly. Fatally.

The Butcher’s son. Nathaniel Wesninski.

Neil Josten. His new recruit. H is Fox.

Moriyama-owned.

Only three people seemed to be watching him every time a disaster struck. Abby, ready to pull him out at the slightest sign he gave her that he was about to go into full-blown panic mode; Wymack, ready to hand him over a bottle of his strongest vodka to drown out the mess that was unfolding and to keep him going in any way possible, despite his state; and Aaron Aaron, who just watched, silently, remotely, instinctively, constantly. He was seated far from Kevin, near the end of the table with Nicky and his date. They couldn’t talk. And Kevin desperately felt like talking to someone, and for that someone to be Aaron, specifically. For tonight, though, that was impossible. Aaron should remain as far away from Riko as he possibly could.

Someone did come talk to Kevin, though: the one and only Jeremy Knox. He’d seen him speaking to Jean, and he’d thought they would never meet tonight. But they did. And for a while, Kevin forgot. Where he was, who he was surrounded by. He even forgot his own name, who he was himself, who he was supposed to be. Because Jeremy… Jeremy was holy. He was a miracle, untouched, unbroken, unreal. Maybe things would have been different if Kevin had had the means to go further, to South California, to beg the Trojans’ coach to take him in. The Trojans were a dream, a utopia, a heaven on earth, and Jeremy Knox was at the head of it all. What a wonderful world it would haven been…

Alas, even Jeremy Knox couldn’t keep Kevin’s monsters at bay. Especially not monsters of Tetsuji Moriyama’s caliber. The Master approached him from behind Jeremy and Kevin barely had the time to thank his idol before pushing him away and out of the Master’s reach. Kevin hoped Jeremy wouldn’t be offended. He also hoped, for a brief moment, that Jeremy would rescue him from whatever misery was about to rain down on him, but that hope was crushed as quickly as his hand had been. His hand, that Coach Moriyama picked up and squeezed to see the scars disappear under the white pressure of his grip. His hand, where he could feel the life drain out of him as the seconds ticked.

Nobody came to intervene. His Foxes were surrounded by Ravens, and even then, they only had eyes for Neil. That’s when it registered for Kevin.

If there was one thing his mind could focus on, it was Exy stats. Even in moments like this, where one single misstep could jeopardize everything, his mind was running on numbers and strengths and weaknesses, like a second-nature mechanism. Kevin calculated: they were surrounded by Ravens, yes. But not all of them. Not Rourke, and not Kucheck. And not all the Foxes were surrounded. Not Aaron. In fact, Aaron wasn't there at all. The Fox and the two Ravens were nowhere to be found, and knowing the Foxes’ luck, seeing the shitshow they were in right this instant, it could only mean one thing.

Daring to look away from the Master, Kevin eyes searched for Andrew, and stared at him until he looked back, bored as usual. And Kevin, Kevin Day, the son of Exy, let all the fear he felt, all the fear he’d ever held back, all the fear he held for the future, bleed into his gaze. This display of power from Edgar Allan had to stop now, or they’d lose a Fox for good.

For once, Andrew, ever clever, did as Kevin hoped.

"Hey, hey, Matty! Matt-Matt! I think, my, I think you’re roommate’s had enough of this great show, now,” Andrew elbowed Matt in the side, his eyes looking up at the giant.

Matt rolled his eyes, but intervened nonetheless. The second the Ravens dispersed, Kevin’s eyes finally tore away from Andrew and the Master, and instead looked for every exit door.

There were a lot.

But none were closer to the restrooms than the side door, which, Kevin found he remembered, was where he’d seen Aaron last, running to go throw up everything that was left in his poor stomach. Kevin didn’t even stop to inform Andrew, to see if Andrew had caught onto what Kevin had; he just ran. As he was pushing open the doors, he saw Rourke and Kucheck from the corner of his eyes, coming out of the men’s restroom. Kevin’s steps faltered only for a moment, hesitating, before his eyes caught on something outside, before the doors.

A foot.

With a nondescript shoe. And a midnight blue pant leg.

Kevin rushed forward.

And shit.

There.

There he was.

Aaron.

On his back, his eyes open and looking at the sky, but barely breathing. A bit of blood was leaking down the side of his mouth, coloring his cheek a vibrant red that had nothing to do with blushing. He was so pale, too pale. Kevin didn’t think it was possible for Aaron to look even paler than he had that night Riko had tried to get rid of him

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!” Kevin cried out as he kneeled next to Aaron.

“Hey…” Aaron managed to whisper back, his voice raspy and broken. Kevin made a move to help Aaron, but he was interrupted by Aaron’s little cry.

“No! No… Don’t… It’s… inside… blood… l-liver… not good…” Aaron babbled nonsensically.

“What? Aaron I don’t understand you! You have to let me help, for Christ’s sake!” Kevin cried out again.

“The bleeding is internal. His liver’s probably got a hole in it. If you move him, he’ll bleed out from the inside, more than he already is. You could kill him,” Andrew answered from behind.

Kevin whipped his head back, his eyes crazy with worry. Andrew and Neil stood merely feet away from him, doing nothing.

“Well someone fucking do something!” Kevin yelled back.

Neil looked at Andrew, who’s eyes were fixed not on his dying brother, but on Kevin. Neil looked at Kevin after following Andrew's gaze, then nodded, before going back inside. Andrew still didn’t make a move to get closer, to push Kevin out of the way, to be there for Aaron.

“F…uck… you… ‘ndrew…” Aaron gurgled through the blood.

“You shut up! Shut the fuck up Aaron! You fucking moron! God I’m so done with this fucking shit! Why couldn’t you- Why couldn’t it- Why?! God!” Kevin snapped back at Aaron.

Aaron had the urge to laugh, but was quickly stopped by a rib poking into his liver, just like Andrew had predicted.

An ambulance could be heard on its way as Abby and Wymack stepped out of the court. Andrew still didn’t move. Kevin, him, had to be removed, but not before Aaron had said what he needed to.

“Kev- Kev… the bus… don’t let- in… danger- Ravens… the bus, Kev, check the bus… swear- swear it… you have- you have to… check the bus… please,” Aaron struggled to say.

Enjoy the ride home, the two Ravens had told Aaron before leaving him to die. That, too, could only mean one thing.

There was a bomb on the bus.

(read on Ao3 here !)

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midnightsnace · 3 years

Text

A Thousand Worlds

Summary: Fix it fic of sorts after the trauma that was episode 6 of the Loki series. Loki is in pain after discovering Mobius doesn’t remember him. He’s been living in apocalypses to avoid capture by this new TVA until he formulates a plan to get his Mobius back.

Rating: T for later chapters

Emotional angst.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

“And so that’s where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds.”

The ends of a thousand worlds. The words of his accomplice echoed through the god’s mind as he fiddled with the straps of his worn and tattered holster. The fluorescent above him flickered with every gust of wind that battled against the sides of the building that Loki was crouched down in. He slid his long legs out against the tiled floor in front of him and sat with his head propped against the wall. He sighed. Loki tapped his foot on the door of the space he was hiding in to close it, drowning out the cries of fear from the people outside in their final hours of life. There he sat waiting for the tempad to charge. Alone. Living in another world where every person he met would be dead by the end of the day. Another world where Mobius didn’t exist. His Mobius.

Was this what it was like? For her? To never be able to stay in one place for more than a day? To always see the same faces riddled with fear as they awaited their painful fate? To only know destruction, screaming, fires, earthquakes, the literal gates of hel? To be utterly alone with your only desire to live in the hope that one day your glorious purpose would be fulfilled?

Glorious purpose.

Loki scoffed. The god didn’t know what his purpose was anymore. Taking down the TVA was a complete failure. The chances for fixing the mess they started seemed impossible now as branches grew and new timelines erupted, with endless TVAs to monitor every universe. At least, that’s what Loki assumed. He knew next to nothing about what they had unleashed. It wasn’t the same TVA. Different hunters, different analysts, different ruler. Many he recognized, but they were still different people. They weren’t the same. She wasn’t the real B. He wasn’t his Mobius. And Loki was at a complete loss on how to find them again.

The first tempad he stole only brought him back to the place he snatched it from. The same Time Variance Authority where Mobius didn’t remember him and not a single file existed for Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, God of Outcasts, God of Lies. Even when he dragged the analyst through the timedoor into the roxxcart parking lot to access his memories, nothing existed of him. No laughter over silly metaphors, mischief at pompeii, not even the memory of their first encounter in the elevator. It was like they never met. This led to Loki wasting away their days hopping from one disaster to the next until his brain racked up a solution. The TVA never once did follow him. Why would they? No one remembered his brilliant discovery about the apocalypses. He could run free. But as the days whittled by, the hope Loki had began to fade into nothingness.

For awhile he kept track of the places he went and the time that had passed.

Day 1 - I finally stole a tempad and left that dreadful place. I came here first. Hoping I’d see you. But I guess that’s not how time travel works in apocalypses. No trace we were ever here. The storm reminded me of my brother. I hope to see him again one day. Now that I know we could have been friends. Everything was eventually going to be okay.

Day 24 - I’ve been sitting in a coffee shop awaiting the earthquake of 2098. Met a lovely redhead with the most peculiar of tattoos. But alas! Little does she know this friendship could never blossom in the wake of death!

Day 37 - I miss him. My brother. The pain that solitude brings makes me think of home more often. How ironic that the very place that caused me the most pain I miss. But anything is better than this. So today I visited home right before its destruction. I saw my brother. I saw Thor from afar. Oh how I wish I could have talked to him somehow and tell him i’m sorry for being such an ass.

Being there brought back memories of the silly metaphor he made using Mobius’ lunch. The corners of Loki’s mouth crept into a smile at the thought. But that smile faded away in the next second and was replaced with tears.

Day 56 - I went to Pompeii again. I stood in the shadows. I tried to picture your expressions of skepticism at my insane ideas. I tried to picture how your face lit up with pride and joy when you realized I was right. I wish I could have stayed longer but I never can anywhere I go.

He whistled like a bird before he exited through the time door.

By day 125 he had lost his will to live again. It was their fourth visit to Lamentis-1. Perhaps it was a mistake on his part to journey here once more and feel both the pains of betrayal and heartache at the prospect of never seeing Mobius again. The second time they had visited Lamentis, the god decided to stay until the very last second with the false hope that maybe him facing death would create a nexus event. His mobius would come find him and save him at the last second. But the time door never came. Maybe it was because he knew there was a chance to escape and he could take it. Or maybe it was because there were so many time branches no one would care to fix a world that was about to end.

“You were always meant to be alone.”

And so this time Loki threw the tempad to the ground and waited. He watched as the lethal disaster unfolded before his eyes once more, ready to die. Alone. Alone with no one to assure him everything will be alright in the face of death. Not a single soul would know he was gone. No one would care.

But at the last second they saw something on the tempad that made them change their mind. A glimmer of hope.

Any hope Loki had, a glorious purpose he had left to fulfill, it was in finding Mobius. It was the only desire left that fueled him to keep existing. He was all that mattered. His only friend. The only person left among the universes who trusted him and saw beyond his flaws. The only person left who hadn’t betrayed the fragile levels of trust the god could give. He was his hope that one day, he wouldn’t have to be alone.

And so he found himself walking the streets of New York in the summer of 2197, on the brink of some disaster he knew nothing about. Not a single idea when it would happen, where it would occur, and what he was doomed to witness. He saw something that could potentially lead him to his destination. The tempad had given him an alert for an aura match - two of the same people in one place. An oddity. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist.

They weren’t just any entity either. They were registered hunters in the TVA database. Which meant one had to be from another universe.

And he knew the TVA would be coming for them.

He had to get there first.

Loki speed walked down the sidewalk frantically scanning his surroundings for any clue as to what was happening. He couldn’t read any signs of fear or confusion on the faces of those who passed him. He didn’t know how much time he had.

Upon hearing shouts of anger, Loki broke out into a run across the street towards the source, dodging every dystopian vehicle that nearly collided with him in the process. It was coming from the roof of the parking tower. With a snap of his magic, Loki teleported himself to the top, hiding behind a parked vehicle to assess what he was working with.

There were two agents standing about 10 feet away who looked nearly identical, one waving her arms frantically while the other looked on stoically, possibly from shock, with a pruning stick in hand. Loki locked eyes on the tempad fastened to the belt of the frantic one. Then he glanced at the one in the other hunter’s hand.

Well shit.

Now he had to figure out which agent had jumped from the other timeline. He quickly flashed himself closer to the two, but not before one caught on that someone was there.

“I was given orders by a man to…what was that?” one of the hunters asked.

Loki crouched down farther on the other side of the wall. He reached for a dagger, ready to pounce once their suspicions subsided. They listened intently to the words from the first hunter for the first clue on who to attack.

“He sent me here to grab this,” the hunter pulled up someone on her tempad, “entity and leave. Those were the orders given to me. So if you’ll excuse me.”

The other hunter planted herself in front of her clone. “I can’t let you do that. Not until you’ve told me everything I want to know. How are you me? How is this possible?”

The first hunter was from an alternate timeline. Loki took that as his cue. But before he could sneak behind the hunter, he was shot backwards by a blast of energy from a ring of light.

Out from the ring stepped a peculiar man with graying hair who was wearing blue robes and an assymetrical cloak that sparked the curiosity of the confused hunter. Within a split second, the portal closed behind him. Loki laid very still on the concrete and held his breath in the hopes that the man would believe him to be dead.

“You know I can tell when someone is playing dead.”

Loki grimaced and winced as he heaved himself off the ground. He came face to face with the strange man, his hand lingering in the air where he placed the pocket for his dagger.

“You.” was all the man said.

“Am I supposed to know you?” the god questioned.

“You always manage to show up in New York again at the most in-opportune times.” The man raised his hands and Loki mimicked his movements, summoning his daggers in place.

“I’m gonna assume we’ve met before sir, perhaps in the future? I don’t know! And i’m terribly sorry about New York! Look let me explain…” they lowered their hands in their attempt to make peace with the angry man in front of him.

“Dr. Strange.” He kept his fist in the air, golden sparks flying from whatever spell he had in mind to attack the prince with. “And until you prove otherwise Im going to assume you are here for hostile reasons.”

Loki blinked. Well he’s kind of not wrong, they thought.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t prove anything else.” and with that the god blasted the sorcerer into the nearest column with their magic and teleported across the space.

Loki noticed that one of the hunters had disappeared. He assumed she had returned to the TVA. The other was charging towards him fast. He whipped out his daggers to face his attacker, but suddenly his feet were dragged out from under him and he hit the concrete hard. He was being dragged backwards, body scrapping against the concrete. So fast, that the god could barely think about what was happening to him.

When he came to his senses he cut the magic ropes with his powers and rolled across the ground. So he was dealing with another magic user, this “Dr. Strange.” Loki teleported again before he was up on his feet to where he was standing directly behind the hunter.

“D-11…” Dr. Strange said with a hint of caution in his tone.

So this was the man Hunter D-11 was working for. Before the hunter could turn around to face them, Loki snatched the tempad off her belt and snapped himself to the furthest side of the building. Dr. Strange reacted quickly and stood his ground in front of Loki, prepared to attack again.

“Loki, perhaps we can work out some type of deal. What is it that you want? Maybe I can help you. Maybe we can reach a compromise.”

Offer him a deal? Nah.

“I’m done trusting people I’ve just met. All they ever do is stab me in the back.” he conjured the time door behind him.

Strange titled his head. “You do realize we can follow you right straight back to the TVA?”

Loki turned to face him and D-11. “You’ll never find me. You won’t know the first place to look.” The time door closed with Loki inside of it, before the two even had a chance to reach their hands out to follow the god.

…….

And that’s how Loki had ended up here. At Roxxcart again, waiting for the new tempad to charge up before hopping through timelines again.

He breathed in deeply as he felt the bubble of excitement, relief, and happiness build in his chest for the first time in months at the prospect of achieving his goal. Being reunited with the only one who mattered: Mobius. His Mobius.

But as he released his breath in a sigh, his chest tightened again and worry clouded his mind. What if this didn’t work? What if this was just another dead end? What if this was just another one of the countless TVAs that might exist in the vast multiverse?

At first, all Loki felt was sadness and regret in the days following Sylvie’s betrayal. But now all he felt was anger boiling deep inside him. That same unwelcome feeling he experienced after discovering his father lied to him. The feeling that harbored in the abyss of Thanos’ chambers. The feeling that never left his soul until Mobius looked him in the eyes and assured him that he didn’t have to be the villain in his story.

She had taken everything from him and he was afraid he couldn’t wash away the resentment this time. He wanted desperately to feel anything besides the pain he had known for the past year.

He needed to feel love again.

“He cares about you.”

Loki couldn’t wait any longer. He picked up the tempad and tapped the time door request for the TVA home base. He drew in a shaky breath as he paused in front of the portal.

This was it.

He was either about to be reunited with his greatest source of happiness, or find himself hiding in apocalypses again for months as he searched for another plan.

And he would do it. He would search through a thousand worlds to find him.

39 notes · View notes

pl-panda · 4 years

Text

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 7

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

----------

At least their purchases were found undamaged. That was a little upside to the disaster of the supervillain attack. Marinette suspected Tikki might’ve had something to do with this, but didn’t comment. Police kept the rope dart as evidence, but they promised to return it as soon as it was possible. Marinette gave Gordon her number (after the commissioner was vouched for by Damian) and number to her mother. It was a possibility that she would’ve been called to court to testify. She was a prime witness and while her involvement declared only self-defense, Gordon told her in all honesty that the lawyer might try to put some blame on her. It was a sad reality, but Damian reassured both his beloved and the commissioner that they would be prepared. Waynes kept a contingent of lawyers not without reason.

The teens were picked up by Alfred before the press figured out who the mysterious hero of the day was. Marinette really didn’t need more lights on her. It was enough that she agreed to make her relationship with Damian Wayne public at the gala. Objectively, she knew it was a better option than for the press to learn from students of Gotham Academy. Inside, she was dreading the event anyway.

When they arrived at the manor, Sabine, Tom, and Bruce were waiting for them. The girls launched themselves at the woman and she pulled them into a hug. Damian followed slowly, not revealing any emotions.

“I received a call from Jim,” Bruce began once they were behind the closed doors, “something about Firefly and brave teens stopping the attack.” He looked at all three of them with a judging glare. It wasn’t that he was disappointed, but it made the teens feel under deep scrutiny.

“It was all me!” Marinette confessed immediately. “He stopped us from escaping and we were with a bunch of kids. I just acted and I might have kinda accidentally… defeated him.” She spoke very fast.

“Don’t worry, Sweetie. We’re not angry or anything.” Sabine quickly reassured her while sending a glare at Bruce.

“Well… Yes.” The billionaire nodded slowly. “But you could’ve been more careful.”

“Ridiculous!” Chloé stared at the Wayne patriarch. “Utterly ridiculous! Of course, Dupain-Cheng could’ve just run away and left those poor lost kids to die, but she stayed.”

“I didn’t mean…” The man tried to speak, but the blonde ignored him.

“But no! Mr. Batman thinks that suddenly protecting others without the suit is somehow wrong. I didn’t see you on the scene at all. There was Red Hood, but he arrived there only after Mari already took out that flying pyromaniac.”

“I just…”

“So don’t go off on us preaching safety when you have your kids running on the rooftops every night.”

“But…” Bruce had no idea what just happened. He only wanted to congratulate them…

“I did get all the fabrics I will need, but we didn’t get to eat.” Mari decided to change the subject and spare her father-in-law further humiliation at Chloé’s hands.

“The lunch will be ready in five minutes. You can take it in the dining room.” Alfred spoke from behind Bruce, startling the poor billionaire. It was apparently not his day.

When the group moved there and took their seats, joined by Cass, who was the only other permanent resident of the Manor, Marinette decided on the next subject.

“And how did the Class trip go?” She asked her mother with a bright smile. The woman sent her a tired look in response.

“They are monsters. I sympathize with their parents if that’s how they act every day…”

“They can’t be that bad, love.” Tom tried to defend the kids, but several stares from around the room would kill him if it was possible. “I meant can. My English is bad. I meant can.” He raised his hands in surrender.

“That Lila girl is indeed a talented manipulator when she is not going overboard. If I didn’t know her, I might’ve actually fallen for her lies. And she even doesn’t resort to lies anymore.”

“What?!” Marinette was glad that she only got the lunch served and didn’t yet eat anything. “No way!”

“Yes. It looks like she established herself as an internet star to the point where she is somewhat famous.”

“Tt. She is still a harlot.” Damian muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

“The modeling for the Gabriel brand and Ladyblog. Outside of Paris, it would make her into a star of some internet super-hero show in addition to a front-page model!” Marinette was suddenly enlightened. “I can’t believe her lies actually worked!” She collapsed in her chair, resigned. “Guess lying did work for her in the end…” Her face took a look of a beaten puppy.

“Say a word, Angel, and we can make you into three times the star she might be,” Damian spoke and Chloé nodded in agreement.

“It’s not that!” The bluenette tried to protest. “I just… Her lies hurt people. I told her that it wouldn’t work in the long run, and she proved me wrong ten times over…”

“Lila… bad.” Cass frowned. “Hurt Nettie.”

“Cass…” The girl tried to say something, but her cousin continued.

“I will… hurt Lila.” She stated confidently.

“No!” Marinette protested. “I’ve got enough trouble stopping Damian and my mom!”

“She is bad,” Cass stated confidently.

“Cassandra.” Bruce glared at his daughter, but before he could explain things to her, Sabine intervened.

“Sweetie, I appreciate you wanting to help Mari, but we must also respect her wishes. Even if I already have a place chosen… Never mind.” She smiled brightly before anyone questioned her.

The whole table exploded into laugher while Damian and Cass smiled wider than usual. It was just such… a familial scene. Like they weren’t a bunch of superheroes, but a happy family. Even if the talk was about murder.

----------

In a dark, damp room two people stood opposite one another. The male figure had a dark purple suit with the signature butterfly brooch pinned to the top of the shirt. His chest was protected by two black flaps that looked a bit like the moth wings. In his black gloves, he held a cane topped with a purple orb. The face was covered by a simple domino mask that did nothing to hide the mane of blonde hair on top of his head.

On the opposite was a woman in a dark-blue dress that hugged her figure very tightly. The clothing ended barely above her bust, continuing with a sparkly net that was almost translucent. From under the cut starting just below the belt, her legs were also visible and covered in the same sparkly net. The blue/purple of her skin clashed slightly with the dress, but the sparkles of the fancy net managed to offset it to the point it was barely noticeable. Her deep-blue hair was pinned back into a rather messy bun with two long strands framing her face.

“Are you sure?” The young man asked.

“Don’t worry,” she dismissed. “My grandma reassured me that this is perfectly safe. Besides, it’s too late to stop now.” She grinned and pointed her folded fan at the ground. When she unfolded it, several candles lit with pink flames, bathing the room in an eerie light. The light reached to three bodies laid in circles drawn with their blood. The two figures in the center were also in a runic circle.

“The bond will not interfere with my Princess?”

“Whatever that vile American did to her must have hurt her badly. You do want to save her and lift the curse, right?” She grinned when there was a new fire in his eyes. “And I told you about my demands.”

“I’m still not convinced.” He glared at her. “And I told your grandfather that his demands are ridiculous.”

“They are my demands.” She corrected him in an amused voice. “If you don’t want my help…”

“Fine. I will do it.” He suddenly closed the distance between them until they were face to face. “But don’t even try to trick me. I’ll know and I will end you. Nothing will stop me from getting what I want.”

In response, she gave him a quick peck on the lips. Immediately, the boy recoiled. She just licked her lips. “Whatever you want, beloved.”

“Ugh. Let’s just get done with this.”

The candles went out one by one when the female chanted in Latin. When the twelfth and last one died out, the room was once more dark. Then, the runes lit and red light enveloped both of them. She reached to the center and grabbed a small goblet. After taking a sip, she handed it to the boy.

He hesitated for a moment, but then also took a sip. They were both enveloped in deep scarlet light until it died out and both of them fell unconscious on the ground.

----------

Marinette and Chloé had to go with the class for the next trip, which was to the Botanic Garden. Damian and surprisingly Cass also joined them. And this was how the class almost signed their death warrant and handed it to Sabine.

As soon as the guide started speaking about various plants they had there, Alya and Lila started gossiping in the back.

“...told you she was a…”

“...I can’t believe he would…”

“...and that black-haired…”

“If it was up to…”

“I bet she just…”

“Maybe it’s a thing here?”

Finally, Sabine had enough. She asked the guide for a five minutes break to rein in the misbehaving group. Caline tried to protest, but she was silenced when the older woman looked her in the eyes with fires of fury.

“Listen up, because I’m not going to be repeating myself.” She started. “Cassandra is my niece, who lives in Gotham. By a lucky turn of events, she turned out to know Damian and agreed to accompany me and Marinette today.” She glared at every student in the group. Sabine noted that Alix stood alone in the back, separate from Max and Kim. “She is a precious little bean and if any of you dare to say anything bad about her again without even trying to talk to her first, I will personally see to it that your trip will be very-” She made sure to put emphasis on the word “-unpleasant. And if you even think about hounding her, I will see you suspended.”

“Now… Sabine, I think you’re…” Madame Bustier tried to defuse the situation.

“Caline. It is, and always will be for you, Madame Cheng. I’m on this trip to make sure they behave. If you’re not going to help me, try not to make my job harder than it already is.” She huffed and looked back at the class. “Am I understood?”

Several barely audible “Yes” could’ve been heard if someone tried hard enough.

“Good for now.” Sabine looked at their guide. “I’m sorry I had to interrupt.”

“No worries Mrs. Cheng.” The woman chuckled. “Anyone who tries to badmouth Cassandra or anyone from her family deserves your wrath.”

“Good. We can continue.” And so the group moved on.

Lila decided to change the subject of her lies and now kept talking about how good friends she was with Damian Wayne, or rather her Damiboo. It was clear that their guide wanted to add something, but Marinette’s boyfriend made a gesture to stop him. The grin on his face made it clear he had different plans.

After they finished the trip, the class was placed in the bus with Sabine while Damian and the girls were left free to wander around. Some tried to protest, but one murderous glare from Madame Cheng shut them up hard.

“Why Marinette and Chloé are allowed to wander around with some boy, while we are confined to the Hotel!?” Kim protested.

“Yeah! Lila can’t even meet her boyfriend!”

“It’s simple.” Sabine cut them off. “Marinette and Chloé are staying with Damian’s family, which is their host family for this trip. You will be meeting your host families after the new year.” She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing some more salt into Lila’s wound. She might be an adult, but it doesn’t stop her from being petty sometimes. Especially when someone decides to speak badly about her favorite (and hopefully only) niece. “If your… Damiboo was missing you so much, you could’ve asked him to invite you. Cassandra said he is attending Gotham Academy. I’m sure he would love to have you stay with him at Wayne Penthouse.”

“Oh! He did want me so badly with them, but we agreed that it would be better for me to get to know some of his friends.” Lila answered quickly and Damian had to stiffen a groan. How could someone be so dense?

“Suuure.” Sabine grinned. “Then please don’t complain about the situation of your own making.” It was clear that the discussion was over. Damian, Marinette, Chloé, and Cass were left to their own device.

“Chlo, I love you like the best friend you are,” Mari started when they were alone, “but Damian’s got a date planned. So bye!” She said before running off with her husband, leaving the flabbergasted blonde and the noirette alone.

“Ice cream?” Cass pleaded.

“Fine. I guess I can hang out with you then.”

“Ice Cream!” The other girl almost jumped in the air.

----------

The couple walked through the gardens in silence, holding hands and enjoying the cool air around them. The temperature was warmer than outside, but still rather frosty. Marinette, feeling bolder, dragged Damian’s hand down slightly and pulled him closer to her. She cuddled into his shoulder and smiled. After dealing with the class, it was nice to have some peace, only the two of them.

“So…” She started with a grin. “Wayne penthouse?”

“Tt. For your information, it’s where Drake and Brown live.”

“But Damiboo! You wound me! And I thought we could stay there together.” Marinette did her best Lila impression.

He tried to scowl, but the end result was an unholy mix between scowling and grinning.

They wandered around, laughing at occasional jokes and generally enjoying the time. At some point, Marinette dragged him to a hot-dog cart to enjoy what she called a ‘taste of America’. He couldn’t help but smile at some of her antics. They stopped for some coffee to rest their legs. He allowed her to talk most of the time, listening to all the details of her new outfit for Jagged Stone.

“...so I decided to replace half of the usual silver studs with golden ones. Or rather gold-colored. He doesn’t actually like the wealth display that much and is all for replacing it with cheaper ones. When his producer one time tried to force me to make him everything with the actual gold, Jagged signed it and immediately donated it to The Gotham Orphanage.”

“I remember.” Damian’s memory flashed him an article about it. “And don’t be modest. It held your signature too.”

“Well… He wanted to throw it to Fang first. It was so much not his style.” She smiled. “Bob almost had a stroke when he learned that he still had to pay for it full price. I think it was actually the first commission I accepted that was not priced like clothes for friends. I did deduce the cost of materials that he provided though.”

“Habibti. You’re amazing.”

She blushed at the compliment. “I’m not! I’m just a normal girl.”

“An amazing normal girl.”

“How can you be so smooth and so socially awkward at the same time?!” She squeaked.

“Because people are fools. You are perfection incarnated.”

“Stop it!” She giggled. “I’m not! I’m clumsy and awkward.”

“It doesn’t stop you from being perfect.” He countered. Before she could protest, he lifted a cookie and put it in her mouth. She bit it and munched it in silence. When she swallowed, he continued feeding her. In retaliation, she picked some whipped cream and gave it to him. They ended up feeding one another and laughing.

It was slowly getting dark, so they started walking toward where Alfred would pick them up. They still had some time, so Mari dragged Damian into the music store. There was a whole stand for Jagged Stone discs.

Marinette, feeling devious, pulled out a marker and signed two before handing it to Damian. He thought for a short moment before making a small heart next to her name and putting down his autograph too. They hid the discs behind others and moved on. In the end, Marinette bought some ballet music for Cass that Damian told her she didn’t have yet. The bluenette liked her cousin and wanted to get her something for ditching her with Chloé

When they exited the store, Alfred was waiting there, ready to take them to the Manor. The two sat in the back of the limousine in silence, cuddled together. By the time they arrived at their destination, Marinette had dozed off. Not having the heart to wake her, Damian did his best to gently lift her and carry her to her room. Somewhere along the way, she clutched to him tightly and didn’t let go even when he placed her on the four-poster bed. He sighed. He didn’t know if he would survive the teasing he would receive after someone finds them. Scratch that. Sabine would kill him before that.

Still, he would have to wake her up. With one more look to make sure the doors were closed, he lied next to her and stared up. He could at least stay awake, right?

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