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official-weasley · 3 years

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The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 6, Ch. 11

PART 6: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYTHING FALLS INTO PLACE Chapter 11 - See Anything You Like?

Nova

I woke up the next day with the biggest smile on my face. I don’t even know when I came back yesterday. I thought Charlie and I wouldn’t be able to leave each other to go to sleep. We didn’t return to the Ball as we knew our friends would be all over us and being embraced under that tree was something I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

I looked around the room and felt relief as I saw Tulip’s bed empty. Of course, she slept somewhere with Jae. I put on my Weasley sweater and some comfy jeans and made my way to the Great Hall. I can't deny I was sad when I saw Charlie wasn't there. I couldn't wait until this evening, to have our first official date!

I was so filled with emotions from yesterday that I didn't feel like breakfast at all. I spotted my bubblegum-haired friend at the Hufflepuff Table. I sat down next to her only to find out she was sleeping. I was curious about her kiss with Barnaby but since Charlie and I want to keep things private I won't pressure her to tell me anything.

“Tonks?” I nudged her gently. “Are you awake?”

“Wotcher, Nova.” Her voice was rusty. I chuckled.

“Everything okay?” I put my hand on Tonks' back.

“Peachy.” She replied and opened one eye.

“Why are you not sleeping in your room?” I couldn't help but giggle at her. She was adorable. She was wearing a Slytherin jacket and her hair and makeup were still from last night. Wait...A SLYTHERIN JACKET?

“I believe Muggles call it the walk of shame.” She finally lifted her head.

I gasped. I knew what that meant but I thought she was only going to kiss Barnaby.

“Slytherins have a very green and wicked Common Room, did you know that?” She continued as if this was an everyday type of conversation.

“You...” I didn't even know what to say. We asked our Heads of House for permission to enter each other's dorms and here were Tulip and Tonks sneaking into Gryffindor and Slytherin's Common Rooms like it was nobody's business.

“He's a good kisser, Barnaby.” She continued. Apparently, she was awake enough to notice I was completely speechless.

“Did you...” I didn't know if I wanted to ask. I felt bad because I didn't want to share any details about my night but at this point, she brought it on herself. “You know...have sex?”

“That I did.” She replied and placed her head back on the table. “Not bad in bed, either.” She added. I was in pure shock. I knew Tonks wasn't into dating and she only went to the Ball with Barnaby because we made her to even though she smelled his scent in the Amortentia potion.

“I thought you didn't want a relationship?” I asked, bemused.

“I don't and turns out neither does he, we're a perfect match.” She looked at me, her head still laying down and she was beaming.

“Tonks, I am not going to lie, I have no idea what is happening.” I answered honestly. “Did you have a one-night stand or is this going somewhere?” I scratched my head, failing to understand the whole situation.

“We didn't have that much time to talk if you know what I mean?” She winked at me.

“Really?” I giggled. “And you're okay with this? I thought you had a crush on him?” I still didn't know if she was happy or sad about it.

“Absolutely! I told you I wouldn't do anything about it but when he invited me to his dorm I said yes. We talked in his room and then it just sort of happened.” She rose her head again. “I never thought he was such a passionate guy. But hey, more fun for me!” She gave me a thumbs up.

“So this is not just a one-time thing?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Giving that he already invited me back tonight, I would say no. What'd you reckon?” She asked with a serious face.

“I would say that you're definitely getting some tonight.” I laughed. “I'm sorry for asking this but wasn't this your first time?”

“Yeah. Not as painful as I thought it would be. He was gentle...” She grinned. “At first, if you know...”

“I know what you mean, no need for details!” I covered my eyes as if that was going to help me not to picture them together.

“Well, we have to hang out more often.” I was being honest. “I did not know you wanted a friends-with-benefits type of relationship.”

“Neither did I.” She admitted. “But it happened and it felt good, so why not.”

I just nodded. I guess she had a point. It was none of my business and good for her! If she was happy being in this kind of relationship, I was happy too.

“Then congratulations!” I said and hugged her. “If you're happy, I'm happy.”

“Thank you for not judging me.” She smiled at me.

“Why would I judge you?” I frowned.

“Yeah, you're right. You're not Penny.” She leaned on my shoulder. “It's easy to talk to you, Blackwood.” I grinned. That meant a lot to me. I might not spend a lot of time with Tonks alone but when I did, we always found it so easy to talk to each other.

“Can I ask you a favor?” She looked at me, still leaning on my shoulder. I nodded.

“Is there any chance that the conversation we just had, stays between us?” She asked.

“Not a problem. Your secret's safe with me.” I ruffled her messy hair.

“So, want to talk about you and Charlie or...?” She lifted her head and leaned on her hand, looking at me.

“If you mind, I rather wouldn't.” I tried keeping a straight face.

“Can I ask you just one question and you nod yes or no?” She asked, her face serious.

“Okay.” I said slowly. I was pretty sure I knew what she was going to ask me and I didn't know if I would be able to lie to her.

“Are you and Charlie together?” I liked how she asked casually, not making a big deal out of it. I nodded.

“Good.” She nodded once. “Want to keep it a secret for a while not to have all eyes on you and enjoy your transition from being friends to a couple?” I couldn't believe how understanding she was. I should talk to her alone more often. I nodded again. I couldn't stop the blood rushing to my cheeks as I relived the events by the Lake in my head.

“And you probably don't want to be together in public because of all of Charlie's brothers?” Was she there yesterday, when we had this conversation? “I imagine you would like to tell his family on your own accords.” I nodded again.

“Your secret's safe with me, Blackwood.” She grinned and pulled me into a hug. “You have no idea how happy I am for you two.” She whispered.

“Thank you, Tonks. This was by far the best conversation we ever had.” I smiled.

“We don't get to be alone that often, huh?” She gave it a thought.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” I giggled.

“Well, if it happens that you need some sneaking around with Charlie, owl me.” She winked and got up.

“Where are you going?” I turned around as she stood up and made her way out of the Hall.

“To sleep before Penny finds me. You should hide too, you have no idea how much she talked about you two last night.” She rolled her eyes.

“Thanks for the warning.” I smiled and got up.

We made our way toward the exit of the Great Hall and just as we were about to walk out I bumped into Charlie.

“Good morning.” He grabbed my waist to keep me steady and smiled at me. I could see last night rolling across his eyes.

He looked at Tonks who winked at us and he quickly let go of me.

“It's okay. She knows.” I grabbed his hand and took him to the Main Courtyard. I wanted to avoid Penny even more now, after Tonks' warning.

“What happened to not telling anyone?” He chuckled and pressed me against the wall. Before I could answer his lips were on mine and I forgot my name. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste.

“She can keep a secret and she offered to help us sneak around if needed be.” I said when we finally pulled apart.

“If you trust her, I do too.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I don't care if you tell the girls, I just don't trust my brothers not to tell my entire family back home.” His voice was so soft and gentle.

“I know. Trust me, if your mum finds out so does mine.” I chuckled.

“Double the trouble.” We both laughed and then he kissed me again. I could have his lips on mine all day long and I wouldn't get enough of him.

“I have to reply to the Sanctuary and finish my Transfiguration essay.” He brushed the hair off my face. “Or at least try.” He chuckled.

“You should do that. I have to find a good hiding place. Tonks warned me that Penny has a full parchment of questions for me and I don't know how to avoid her.” I giggled.

“I think your room would be your best shot.” The way he was looking at me as if he wanted to memorize every single part of my face. It made my knees weak.

“Is our date still on?” His eyes sparkled.

“Hmm, let me see my schedule?” I joked and opened an imaginary schedule planner. He laughed.

“Never change.” He cupped my face with his hands and gently parted my lips with his tongue. How was he such an amazing kisser!

—

“Did you just come in?” Tulip came in the room just after me, a towel on her shoulder and a toothbrush in her hand.

“No, I was already down for breakfast with Tonks, sleepyhead.” I smiled.

“So, how was your night?” She asked, hanging her towel.

“It was nice.” I tried acting relaxed. I didn't want to talk about me and Charlie to anyone else. “How was yours?” I tried steering the conversation to her.

“It was interesting. Never thought I'll do it in a hot tub.” This was the price I had to pay being quiet about Charlie.

“How's that like?” I pretended I wanted to know the details, even though the images were already burning my eyes.

“Wet.” She chuckled and sat next to me by our beautiful window.

“Want to talk about it?” She put her hand on my knee.

“Not really.” I shook my head. I couldn't believe she didn't bombard me with questions. Was I wrong about my friends?

“No problem.” She smiled, understandingly. “I have nothing more to say to be honest.” She chuckled. “Oh, really.” I winked at her and we both started laughing.

I was getting nervous as it was 6 o'clock and Tulip was still in our room. I was hoping I wouldn't have to explain where I was going at 7.

“Want to grab some dinner or are you avoiding Penny?” She giggled.

“Not really that hungry and yes.” I answered honestly. I knew I would have to face Penny sooner or later and I knew it would be better sooner as the more I wait the worse it will get but I didn't want to tell her anything.

I was so happy Tulip and Tonks left me alone and I think Tulip knew something was going on but I was glad she didn't ask me about it.

“I'm going to go.” She put on her cardigan. “What should I tell Penny if I see her?”

“Tell her I got down with something. I don't want her to be angry.” I frowned. I hope this won't mess up our friendship.

“She has nothing to be angry about.” Tulip said as she was putting on her shoes. “She just wants you to be happy and likes to know...well...everything.” We laughed. “Don't worry, I'll keep her off you.” She winked and exited the room.

I waited for her to leave for good and then I jumped out of my bed. I had no idea what I was going to wear to my first date with Charlie and I only had 45 minutes to figure it out. I took a quick shower and brushed my teeth. I decided to wear my hair in a ponytail and I put on my favorite jeans. I was never a skirt type of a girl anyway. I decided to wear my favorite jumper that my mum got for me for my birthday last year and it was my favorite color too, navy blue.

I took a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror. I think I was cute enough! I ran down the stairs and through the Common Room.

When I got to the Seventh Floor, Charlie was already there, waiting for me. The biggest grin painted his face when he saw me. I liked that he went with casual attire too. His burgundy Weasley jumper and jeans.

“You look beautiful.” He pressed his lips on mine and wrapped his finger around my ponytail.

“Thank you.” I said, blushing like mad. “And you look very handsome.”

“So, how does this work?” He looked at the wall in front of us, trying to ignore my compliment that made the skin under his freckles turn scarlet.

“You close your eyes and ask for what you need.” I explained. “Want to do it or should I?”

“May I?” He asked gently and I nodded. I wanted to see how he imagined our first date.

He closed his eyes and after a few seconds, the door started to appear on the wall.

“Wicked.” He whispered, looking at it, amazed. He stepped closer and locked his eyes with mine. I nodded for him to open the door.

I was awestruck when I saw the room. Everything was made out of wood and it smelled like it too. There was a beautiful table with flowers on it. A small fireplace with a crackling fire and the walls looked like we were in a cottage. There were two stands with candles on them and a table in between with some food. I never thought he was such a romantic.

“Shall we?” He stretched his arm at me. I placed my hand in his and he took me inside.

“Char, this is...” I was looking around, my mouth open.

“Is it too casual? Were you hoping for something fancier?” I finally looked at him and he looked embarrassed, his hand scratching the back of his head.

“What are you talking about?” I scolded him. “This is the most beautiful place for a first date!” I was still in awe. I never really thought about how my first date would look like but I am sure Charlie's idea would beat my idea's arse.

He came closer to me, his cheeks bright red, and put his hands on my waist. I couldn't believe all those freckles on his face were finally mine.

“Want to eat something?” He kissed me softly.

“Something small. I have enough butterflies as it is.” I giggled.

“You too? What a coincidence, so do I.” He pulled out my chair for me. Could he be more perfect?

He extended his arm and I did the same so we held hands. He looked at my wrist.

“Is that the necklace I gave you?” He was flushed.

“You didn't notice it yesterday at the Ball?” I chuckled.

“I was too busy looking into your eyes.” He grinned. I know it was cheesy but I also know he was being honest.

“Andre told me to transfigure the necklace into a bracelet because he reckoned it doesn't go with my outfit and I never took it off since you got it for me so we made a compromise.” I explained.

“I didn't know you wear it all the time.” I think he just fell for me more because of what I just said. I couldn't distinguish his skin from his hair that's how red his cheeks were.

“That's because you only look in my eyes.” We both laughed.

“So, yesterday you said that you had a crush on me since our Third Year. When did you realize that?” I really wanted to know. I couldn't help but feel guilty because my feelings didn't last as long as his.

He told me that once he admitted to himself that he has a crush on me, he realized it happened the day when I befriended that Hippogriff. He told me that he stopped denying it when we were in the Forest with Bill and Barnaby. He admitted that Penny knew since they brewed that potion together for Tonks and it all started to make sense.

Penny was always so confident that Charlie likes me back and she always winked at me when Charlie popped into the conversation or when something awkward happened between us. She knew all this time and didn't tell me. She was a good friend for keeping his secret.

Then I told him that I felt something when we made up in the Forest. How I tried to deny my feelings because I didn't want to lose him as a friend and how I was sure he didn't like me back when he didn't ask me to the Ball. I was so relieved that we could laugh it off and just leave everything behind us. We were both shy and silly but it didn't matter. In the end, we agreed that we came together at the right time and it couldn't be more perfect.

We then moved our conversation to the armchair by the fire. Charlie sat down and I sat in his lap. The way he was looking at me, like I was the most important thing in the world, melted my whole being. I was the luckiest girl alive and I couldn't believe my mum was right since our First Year. How did she know?!

“You reckon it's getting late?” He pulled his soft lips away from mine.

“And we care because...?” I kissed his freckled nose.

“We're Prefects.” He chuckled.

“Andre will take care of it.” I swung my hand and made him laugh. He put his hand behind my head, pulled me towards him, and glued our lips together.

I don't think it's enough if I say that it was more than my dream date. I returned to my dormitory at 1 o'clock in the morning and as I woke up as tired as ever, I understood Tulip not wanting to get up for breakfast.

“Morning.” She beamed at me from her bed. The one time she didn't have to be in our room, she was.

“Good morning.” I answered, as normal as possible.

“So where were you until 1 in the morning?” I tried avoiding her gaze.

“Prefect's duty.” I answered quickly.

“I'm sure you did a great job.” She giggled.

“Want to go to breakfast with me?” I changed the topic.

“Sure!” She jumped off her bed and we were on our way.

“Where...were...you...yesterday?” Penny poked me in the shoulder the second I sat down next to her in the Great Hall. Charlie and Jae were sitting opposite us. It was hard not to go to Charlie and give him a kiss but we had to act as if there is nothing going on between us.

“Didn't Tulip tell you?” I cleared my throat. “I came down with something.”

“Sure you did.” She narrowed her eyes.

“It's true.” Tulip said, pouring milk over her cereal. “You should see her, she looked like a Vampire.”

“You magically got sick the day after the Ball?” She still didn't believe me.

“She wasn't feeling well at the Ball either. I took her to the Ravenclaw Tower when we exited the Great Hall.” Charlie went along with Tulip's lie.

“Wait, you're being serious?” Penny's face fell.

“Why would she lie about it, Haywood? Give her a break.” Tonks rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I thought...” I can't believe she bought it.

“What?” I asked casually, trying hard to keep my eyes on hers and not look at Charlie. “You know...” She quickly glanced at him and back to me.

“Penny, I told you. Was not the best night for me.” I sighed and took the piece of bacon Tonks left on her plate.

“But-” She mumbled but then finally let it go when Tonks rolled her eyes at her again.

I couldn't believe we would get away with this. I know she wanted to ask me 100 questions but couldn't because Charlie was right there and I know I would have to answer them sooner or later but now I have an excuse that nothing happened between us at the Ball.

—

It didn't take long for that moment to come as Penny decided not to pay any attention in Herbology.

“So, tell me what really happened.” She turned to me the second Sprout finished her introduction.

“I told you nothing happened. We danced and then he took me to my Common Room.” I whispered, rather annoyed. I wish she would let this go as Tulip and Tonks did. I didn't even have to tell them and I know they both know. If she was as casual about it she would know that we are together.

“So he didn't say anything and neither did you?” She sounded so disappointed that I felt guilty not telling her but I couldn't risk it.

“No, and I want to keep it that way.” I hissed at her.

“Why?” She frowned. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because when we were dancing I realized that if we ever become something more, I will lose my best friend forever. And I can't do that. It wouldn't work out anyway after he leaves for Romania.” Penny looked like I just crushed her dreams. It broke my heart but I knew she would tease us and talk about it all the time and we would never have a private moment again.

It wasn't fair to her because both Tulip and Tonks knew about us but so far they kept my secret and I was grateful for that. As soon as Penny drops her obsession we can go back to normal and Charlie and I can sneak around and hopefully have more amazing dates like the one we had yesterday.

“Pen, drop it. It's Nova's decision what she wants to do no matter how much we think they are perfect for each other.” Tonks scolded her.

“Alright.” She scoffed. “I just don't want you to regret anything.” She frowned at me but her expression quickly softened. “You do know we just want you to be happy?” She grabbed my hands.

“I know, Pen. But I am content with my decision.” I hugged her and I could hear her sobbing.

“Okay.” She whispered. “I will let it go.” Our eyes met for a second and she blinked her tears away.

I hated that I had to do this to her. I knew she just wanted us to be together as it was so obvious we fancied each other but we couldn't risk it. I knew she would tell Andre even if I asked her not to and somehow let it slip or want us to hold hands and we couldn't risk our families to find out. I knew I did the right thing and she will find out soon enough.

—

Tulip's wish to take the Apparation test finally came true and she did it, first try. Charlie retook the test and he passed with flying colors this time. Gryffindor became the Quidditch House Champion for the fourth year in a row and it was the only time I could stare at Charlie, following his every move without Penny narrowing her eyes and thinking what is happening between us.

Despite promising me that she will let it go, she didn't. She kept asking me about the Ball and when I will tell him and kept reminding me that I am making the biggest mistake of my life. Tonks and Tulip were losing it with her and kept telling her to stop but she never did. She only confirmed that not telling her was the right decision.

I still felt bad but if Tonks and Tulip don't ask questions, why can't she do the same. It would be so much easier if she just let it go.

—

Exams were fast approaching and this was the first year that I actually worried. Penny tried to the best of her ability to make us notes but with the Ball and everything that happened this year, even she wasn't prepared.

I was leaning on my hand, staring at my boyfriend. It was one of the rare occasions that none of our friends were in the Library during the exams. Jae, Tonks, and Tulip were in the Kitchens as usual and Andre and Penny were probably in the Potions Classroom. Charlie was going through my Transfiguration notes and I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was so extremely handsome when he was focused. “See anything you like?” He took his eyes off the notes and bestowed me with one of those smiles that just melted my whole being. I looked around to see if anyone could see us and I stole a little kiss. “All the time, every day.” I answered. I couldn't believe I was dating Charlie. A month ago I was beating my head over the fact that we are best friends and I can't have these feelings for him and now I am falling for him so fast that I don't have the time to spell Quidditch! He went back to his notes, I couldn't understand how he could focus at all. The only time I could study this year was when he wasn't around and that wasn't very often so I just kind of gave in to the fact that I'll fail my Sixth Year.

Did I care? No.

Did a couple of hardcore Ravenclaws just faint by me thinking I don't care about exams? Yes.

Am I falling in love with Charlie Weasley? Absolutely.

My staring session went from his face to his arm. He had a white t-shirt on and even though I knew he had freckles on his arms as well I never paid that much attention to them. I was a sucker for his freckles! I tilted my head to the left like Pip does when he is looking at my drawings and started counting the freckles on his nicely muscular arm. I really was blind not to notice his figure. He always said he was short but he was just the right height for me to bury my head between his neck and shoulder. He was nicely built. Very sexy and defined back and muscular arms but just enough to fill the sleeve of his shirt, not too much. And even though we have only been dating for a month I couldn't help but imagine what hides under that shirt of his. Does he have freckles on his chest as well? “What did you discover this time?” He chuckled. He was pretty used to me staring at him and seeing all the little details that I have been blind about before and I know it not only didn't bother him but he enjoyed it as well. “Just counting your freckles.” I poked him with my finger a couple of times so it seemed I was pressing on different freckles. He let out a silent laugh. “That's going to take a while, love.” I felt my cheeks turning red. It happened every time he used that nickname and it was growing on me. “I know you're self-conscious about your freckles but I adore every...single...one...of...them.” I poked him as I said every word slowly. “Want me to give you some of them?” His smile was killing me. “No! Then I would stare at myself and not at you and we don't want that, do we?” I chuckled. “Oh, no. We want your eyes on me.” He cupped my face and parted my lips with his tongue. He was such a good kisser! It wasn't a quick kiss and I have noticed that we are sometimes not even trying to hide anymore. But who cares if we get caught with lips as soft as his. “You know, my mum always said that freckles are cute and I know she only said it because she knew how much I disliked them but you are simply obsessed with them.” He winked at me and sent shivers down my spine. I never imagined that this is how it feels being with someone you really like. “Only with yours, now go back to studying and let me count in peace!” He let out a suppressed laugh so Madam Pince wouldn't hear him and turned his head to the notes. I turned my attention to the freckles on his lower arm. I poked at them with my fingers and even though he looked like he was still focused, studying, I knew I was distracting him and I couldn't help to hope he would give up and we would sneak into the Forbidden Forest to snog. Our first date was absolutely one of my favorite moments we shared so far but we still found it easier to sneak into the Forest. We know we're alone in there and we could just be us. I started gently brushing my fingers against his lower arm. With one hand still supporting my head. I was completely lost in my thoughts. “Can you stop that?” He said gently. I lifted my head as he disturbed me from my daydreaming. “Is it tickling you?” I teased and continued doing it. “No.” He said smiling and pretending to move his arm away but I knew he wasn't really trying. “Then what is it?” I leaned back on my arm, staring at his face, waiting for his response. “Nothing.” He said so quietly that I barely caught the response. “Char...” I knew that face. He was shy to tell me something! “Why don't you like it?” “I like it a bit too much.” He turned to me, and there was something else in his eyes. “It's turning me on.” He winked at me, his eyes full of passion. I stiffened and bit my lip. “And that...” He brushed his finger over my lip. “Turns me on even more, so have mercy on me will you, love?” He kissed my forehead and focused back on the notes. I always got nervous when we mentioned sex. It's going to be the first time for both of us and I know it is going to be beautiful but whenever these moments happened we knew we weren't ready yet, no matter how curious we were. We were best friends for so long and even though everything we did felt so

natural so far, we both said we want to take it slow. However, I already made a mental note that that turns him on. “Alright, alright.” I sighed and leaned my head on his shoulder to see the notes too but he started putting them together and into my bag. “What are you doing?” I lifted my head. “Well, I have been studying for two hours, to the best of my ability.” His face smug. “You, however, have been learning a subject that won't do you any good on the exams.” I giggled. “So how about we go to the Forest so that I can catch up on the lesson as well?” He winked and kissed me so passionately that I thought I was going to melt in the middle of the Library.

—

As we were almost over with our exams and I have to say I didn't do all that bad, Charlie and I discussed what we are going to do this Summer.

Tonks got an internship because her mother knows someone in the Auror Department and she was over the roof about it. Penny was taking her Muggle Vacation as always, except that this year, Andre was joining them.

Tulip was spending half of her Summer with Jae's family and half working in her mum's shop. She wasn't keen about the latter but her mum wouldn't let her go to Jae's otherwise.

I wrote to my mum and she told me she won't have the time for us to take our second Muggle vacation as we planned. But it didn't bother me as it meant I would be able to spend more time with Charlie at the Burrow until he leaves for Romania. He owled his mum if I could stay with them even when he's gone and we weren't really that surprised when Molly replied with an excited yes.

I was going to miss him in July. When we were just friends I already didn't like spending a Summer without him but now it was going to be even harder. However, I was excited to become one of the Weasleys and spend more time with Ron and Ginny. I liked all of Charlie's siblings but those two just melted my heart. Perhaps I would even be a little daring and pull a prank with Fred and George.

We also knew we would have to be careful, with a full house of his family members we would have to be very sneaky for them not to see us. We weren't ready to tell them yet. We couldn't even tell our friends and we didn't want any family to get involved.

We enjoyed our first month in peace so much that we weren't really in a hurry so I don't know when we would tell them. What I did know was that I was completely and without a single doubt falling in love with my best friend and for the first time, I didn't have to resist it, because I knew he felt the same way.

END OF PART 6

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consumeconstantly · 4 years

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Small Buff Girl Sightings Ch 4.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3 ___________________________________________________________

Marinette is not surprised when she receives a text message from Lila two days after she speaks to Damian. She’s been expecting Lila to contact her.

After all, Damian refuses to listen to common sense and transfer, and since he hasn’t been brought into the fold with the rest of the class, he clearly must be against them. This causes the rest of their classmates agitation. Marinette is afraid that Damian might end up like the rest of the transfer students; pushed away and aggravated to the point of akumatization.

It doesn’t matter that Marinette brushes off Damian’s attempts at conversation. All it matters is that there is one (1) Very Attractive Boy that is not under Lila’s thumb and is associating with Lila’s supposed enemy. Surely, the Italian girl knows that the current situation holds all of the possibilities for a disaster.

Marinette isn’t sure how Lila has her phone number, but she supposes it doesn’t really matter. Since Marinette didn’t run for class president this year, Lila was elected because of everybody’s adoration for her. Being Class president is a good resume boost, so Lila accepted, and appointed Alya as her Vice Deputy (and of course, allowed the faux reporter to do all of the legwork for her.) So, it’s highly likely that Lila just looked up her number in the class registry.

7:45AM | Unknown number: it’s lila. i’ll meet you at the corner cafe near the louvre at 4 today. we need to talk

8:05AM | Marinette: okay

Unknown number: youre not going to ask why

Marinette: we both know why

11:02AM | Unknown number: be on time

On his part, Damian isn’t the kind of person who is heavy handed in conversation, which is good for Marinette. He makes snide comments when annoyed and asks questions about assignments that reference lessons he wasn’t there for, but is quiet otherwise. He doesn’t bother much with pleasantries and also doesn’t bother asking to hang out after school, which Marinette is very glad for. Hawkmoth is sending out akumas more frequently than he has in a while, and she has a lot of work to do with commissions-- mostly received through word of mouth-- and homework. She does want to get into a good college, after all, and it’s not exactly like she can put I am the superhero, Ladybug on her admissions essays. Or maybe she could, as some sort of joke?

Still, his obvious denial of Lila’s advances is all too apparent to the class, and even without Lila’s instigation, gossip spreads like a wildfire. In fact, it spreads despite Lila’s desire for it not to. The class doesn’t talk about it when Lila’s in earshot, but Lila knows what’s going on. Lila sees the pitying looks that are thrown her way, the whispers in her ear about the bully, Marinette, getting her claws into another, poor transfer student.

At first, Lila attempts to divert the class’s attention by pushing her relationship with Adrien. Lila gets even closer to Adrien, who, weirdly, smells like some sort of old cheese, especially when she gets close to his breast pocket.

“Oh, Adrien, I think it’s so sweet that you’re going to be taking me to dinner tonight!” Lila finds that Adrien’s forearms are surprisingly muscular. Not that there’s anything wrong wth that-- she likes her boytoys to be strong, but sort of stupid.

It’s a pity that Adrien isn’t stupid, just a pushover. The two of them have an agreement, just like she and Marinette do; Adrien will play along with Lila during class time so her empire remains as strong as ever, and Lila gives Adrien an out for model related things. She doesn’t know where Adrien continually disappears off to during photoshoots, but Gabriel trusts her for some weird reason she hasn’t figured out yet. Which means that Lila is the perfect, ever constant excuse. Occasionally she goes out with Adrien on a “date” to keep up appearances, but it’s hard to date someone who doesn’t follow her every whim. Lila also doesn’t know anything about gaming, or anime, or anything that Adrien has interest in. In return, Adrien dislikes fashion, manipulation, and lying. Really, they have no common ground.

When the American transfer showed up, Lila had been hoping that he would be dumb. He is wonderful eye candy-- more muscular than Adrien and definitely more filled out, that’s for sure. Lila knows that Gabriel has Adrien on some god-awful model diet, but that boy can metabolize like there’s no tomorrow. But it’s not Lila’s place to intervene. That’s family matters-- that’s show business.

Damian Grayson is not stupid, which is either a blessing or a curse, because that means theoretically this man is the whole package. He’s tall, dark, and has a sharp tongue. Exactly Lila’s type. But nothing that’s actually good ever comes her way, and the moment she meets him, she can tell that he dislikes her. Not for the first time, Lila regrets telling such bald-faced lies her first year. Prior to that year, her mother and she hopped countries nearly every year. Apparently, her mother decided that having Lila in the same school throughout high school would be beneficial. Maybe if Lila hadn’t made such a huge mistake in her first year at Francois Dupont, she would be friends with Marinette, who has more of a spine than the rest of the class combined.

Lila knows a losing battle when she sees one. Damian doesn’t like her, though she’s not sure why. She gets the feeling it’s not just because of her past lies. She’s good at telling what people feel about her, has been trained to since a young age. Since her mother is a diplomat, business dinners and charity galas have been her playground since childhood. Figuring out people’s relationships started as a game, at first. Then Lila learned she could turn her knowledge into a tool. As she bounced around from school to school she got more and more adept with manipulating the relationships that she saw. But she’s seen her mom lose before. She miscalculated, thought that she could change somebody who was too headstrong. It hadn’t been pretty-- and it was high stakes, too. That’s why her mom and dad are now divorced.

She recognizes the same bullheadedness in Damian that Marinette has, and Lila knows that with Damian and the class at odds like they currently are, things will go south. Unlike the other transfer students, Damian looks like he will not be easily cowed and will not transfer just because his classmates say mean things to him. They certainly won’t be able to hurt him physically. Which is why she needs to meet up with Marinette. Do damage control. Make sure that she is safe, and that nobody can hurt her. Nobody in this stupid class can hurt her, really. Except for maybe Marinette, but she is too kind to do so. And now, Damian. Which means Lila needs to get a lock on him, and Marinette is her way to do that.

That’s why Lila is here, now, at this cafe near the Louvre, far, far away from anybody who goes to Francois Dupont. None of her dogs will find her here, and she can work something out with Marinette.

Marinette slides into the seat across from her after ordering something, and Lila begrudgingly admits that the girl is pretty and fashionable. She has a fluid grace to her motions, as well, which is why Lila found it weird that she had been so klutzy when they first met. Puberty, maybe?

“So,” Lila starts. She doesn’t really know how to talk to Marinette. Marinette is not one of her dogs. Marinette is smart, and loved, and good at what she likes; she is, at the very least, Lila’s begrudging equal. “Damian Grayson.”

“Damian Grayson,” Marinette repeats, knowingly. She smiles and jokes, “It almost sounds like we’re meeting up to talk about who we have a crush on.”

There are times when Lila wishes that Marinette took her up on the first option of the truce she presented. She wouldn’t have minded a partner in crime, and Marinette is everything that Lila lacks. That’s why Lila offered it in the first place. She knew that Marinette wouldn’t take it-- she was far too morally inclined too-- but it was worth a try.

“I’ve tried talking to him,” Marinette says, “But he’s not the type to listen.”

“He’s smart.” Smarter than the rest of the class, Lila thinks, so of course he won’t ally himself with her. People who follow who are always disillusioned dreamers who don’t have enough common sense to use Google. “I don’t mind if he’s not on my side. He just can’t be against me.”

Lila doesn’t care much about her classmates at Francois Dupont, but she can’t give them up, either. She still has the rest of this school year and the next, and it’s easier having her classmates fawn over her and drop everything at the flick of her wrist. It makes being class president very easy. If Damian exposes her lies, the end of her lycee years will inevitably end in an unpleasant altercation with Gianna Rossi, her mother. And while her classmates are inarguably dense and too trusting, their attentions aren’t altogether unpleasant. They invite her to go to mundane places and she agrees to, when it’s not too much of an inconvenience.

Marinette nods, sagely, then sips her Cafe au Lait. “There’s nothing to worry about there. He doesn’t like dealing with classroom politics, so as long as you don’t mess with him, he’ll stay away.”

“Good.” But also-- Lila hesitates. She doesn’t think that Marinette will agree with this, but she’s a little bit desperate. As useless and unthinking their classmates are, Lila doesn’t want to lose them. They’re all that Lila has. And they’ll think it weird that Damian isn’t on her side. They might start messing with him, and by extension, Marinette. On Lila’s short list of who she has tried and failed to take down is Marinette. The girl is slow to anger and has seemingly unending patience, but she’s unquestionably talented and charismatic, which means Lila does not want to see her mad. She’s been accepting of the new classroom dynamic in which her classmates ignore and ocassionally insult her because the whole school knows the two of them have bad blood, but some days Lila catches Marinette looking at Alya, Nino, and Adrien with a distant fondness. If they totally turn on Marinette, it won’t end well.

Apparently, Marinette can see the hesitation on her face. Lila is surprised at how good the other girl is at reading people. She definitely should not have the same experiences that Lila does. She has too bright of a disposition to have experienced a life constantly embroiled in politics and poor personal relations. But somehow, Marinette is almost as good at reading people as Lila is.

“If you think the rest of the class is going to do something, I’m pretty sure that Damian will be fine with you shunning him. He doesn’t like liars, but as long as it gets him out of dealing with the rest of the class, he’ll be fine.” Marinette knows how little Damian cares for their classmates. She can ask him for permission after talking to Lila, and then act accordingly.

This is surprisingly easy. Though, most things with Marinette are. Even the first time that Lila confronted her, they only needed to speak a few words before everything was resolved neatly.

“I’ll let you know what I decide to tell them.” Lila figures that it’s easier for her to tell Marinette what she’s planning and not get an unexpected surprise at the last second where the girl opposes her.

“Sounds good.”

Marinette’s phone is on the table, and it buzzes itself to life. Lila sees her lockscreen: a picture of Marinette and her family. Lila thinks of her own lock screen. It is much less personable. A lock screen that is one of the many that are preinstalled.

Marinette picks the phone up, which comes off as uncharacteristically rude. Marinette doesn’t seem like the kind of person who is constantly attached to technology, and she does have better manners than most of her classmates. Lila doesn’t think she’s ever seen Marinette pick up her phone when talking to somebody, and Lila wonders if Mariette picks up the phone because she thinks so little of her.

But Marinette looks pale and worried. She says, “Sorry, but it looks like I have to cut this short. If there’s anything else, just text me, okay?”

Then, Marinette dashes out the door, wide-eyed.

Lila wonders if Marinette’s statement extends to things outside of their classroom situation. Maybe she can get Marinette’s opinion on Gabriel’s Spring line.

“What’s wrong, Renee?” Marinette is worried. Renee never calls without texting, first. Normally, he calls when it’s nighttime, right before he goes to bed. He’s calling in the middle of the day, and something feels wrong.

Renee is taking shuddering breaths on the phone, and Marinette feels her stomach drop. “M-ma-maman,” he wails.

“Did your maman do something?” She’s making her way to Renee’s grandparent’s residence. Marinette visited Renee once in the past week, and he was settling in fine. His grandparents really love him. They said that after their son died, they were rarely able to contact Renee because his mother always had him so busy.

“Maman, she, she hurt Nonna.” Everything that Renee says is punctuated by sniffles and held-back tears.

“Is Nonna bleeding? Can Nonno come to the phone?”

“N-no, I don’t know, Mari, I’m scared, Maman, she’s never been this angry before, Nonno made me lock the bathroom door, I can’t hear them anymore, she’s not going to hurt them, is she? She can’t hurt them, Mari, what am I supposed to do? I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being so bad, I’m sorry. Please--”

“Stay right where you are, okay Renee? Can you use your phone to call the police to Nonno’s house? I’m going to be right there. Nonno and Nonna are going to be okay.”

Renee lets out a shaky, “Yes,” and then Marinette hangs up the phone, darting into an alleyway to turn into Ladybug. She thinks that this might be the fastest that she’s made her way through Paris, and her heartbeat is so fast, Marinette feels like she’s about to vomit.

Ladybug swings to the suburbs where Renee currently resides, detransforms, and sprints into the house. The door is left wide open, which is a bad sign. It signals to Marinette that Celia was violent from the start, and that the elder Monsieur and Madam DeVries did not even have time to close the door.

She is unfortunately right; Madam Devries is on the floor with her arms over her head, body in a fetal position. Celia is barely restrained by Monsieur DeVries, who has deep scratches on his arms.

“You,” Celia snarls when she sees Marinette come through the door. “You bitch! Your stupid intervention made me lose my chance at a promotion. Now I’m on probation! I could be demoted, all because you thought that you could teach my child.”

Celia’s stiletto heels slam onto Monsieur DeVries’ bare foot, and he flinches from the pain. It gives Celia just enough slack for her to escape his arms and storm up to Marinette. “Everything I do is for Renee. I work so he can go to school, so that he has a roof over his head, and so he can go to all of those stupid lessons that his father wanted him to do. And what do you do? What gives you the right to take him away from me?”

She tries to claw Marinette, but misses. All Marinette has to do is sidestep, sweep Celia’s already shaking legs from underfoot, and then pull Celia’s arms sharply and backwards. Marinette’s shin is locked over the back of both of Celia’s knees, and Marinette contorts the woman backwards so Marinette can speak directly into Celia’s ears.

Marinette is glad that there are no cameras rolling here, though she has gathered so much evidence against Celia for charges of child abuse and corporate fraud that there is no way that Celia isn’t going to jail. Sine there’s no video evidence, if Celia wants to bring this instance up, she can just claim self defense.

“You starved Renee when he didn’t want to go to the lessons that you arranged. You beat him if he did anything wrong. You made him think that it was normal for kids to go weeks without seeing or hearing from their parents, prevented him from contacting other family members and from making friends, and humiliated him just because he wanted to hug you in public.” Marinette pulls Celia’s arms back even more sharply, so that her spine was over Marinette’s other knee. Celia let out a gasp and a muffled cry of pain. “You can’t pretend that you did all of that for Renee. You certainly can’t pass off the laundering of Silverstein and Company’s money as something necessary for you to take care of Renee.”

Marinette abruptly pushes Celia onto the floor, letting the leg that wasn’t restraining Celia’s knees onto the woman’s lower back. It’s a lot easier to restrain somebody who’s unconscious, but Marinette wants Celia awake to realize how quickly her life is going to go down the drain. So that Celia knows how much evidence she has stacked against her.

It takes Marinette longer than it usually does for her to restrain her victim with zip ties, but she gets it done well before they even start to hear the police sirens.

“If you think you can use your late husband’s name as an excuse for what you’ve done to Renee, you have another thing coming. I will see you in court this Thursday and not only will you be out of a promotion, you will be out of a job. I’d like to see you try to get a job in France when you have charges of child abuse, violence against a teen and family, fraud, and money laundering on your record.”

“But I love Renee! He is my and Jean’s child. The last connection that I have with Jean. How could I ever hurt him intentionally?”

This only makes Marinette feel more disgusted. How twisted Celia’s vision of love is. Is this how Gabriel feels towards Adrien? Does he also delude himself into believing that his constant isolation of Adrien is a form of love?

“Sometimes, intent doesn’t matter.” Marinette says softly. “The consequences of your actions make you accountable. If you truly love Renee, let him be happy. Let him be safe.” Maybe one day, Celia will learn to be better. To love better. Marinette isn’t sure if Celia should ever be let back into Renee’s life, but that isn’t a decision she can make. That’s something that Renee and Monsieur and Madam DeVries must decide. She hopes they wait on it.

Celia cries, and Marinette can feel the woman’s shudders underneath her fingers. Her face is to the ground now, but she’s lost all color and Marinette can almost believe that she is ashamed and doesn’t want to look at anyone. But as good as Marinette is at partial and half-truths, she’s never been good at lying. Not even to herself.

The police come, and Celia is escorted out in a solemn procession.

Madame and Monsieur DeVries do not thank Marinette, but the way they look at Renee with such concern and affection as they embrace him is all she wants, anyways.

The trial is a quiet affair. There is little to no media coverage because Monsieur and MadameDeVries want it that way.

Since Celia’s physical assault on her son, the case was expedited. Instead of testifying Thursday next week, both Renee’s grandparents and the Silverstein and Company insisted that the date be moved up, and somehow, they managed to get the case to be heard on Friday of the same week.

Renee attaches himself staunchly to Marinette and Damian at the trial. After they visited him at the DeVries house last week, Renee never stopped talking about the best big brother he could hope for. Now, after he has seen his mother launch herself at his Nonna and Nonno, he only has his grandparents and the two of them.

Monsieur and Madam DeVries take this in stride. They are thankful that they helped in getting Renee away from his mother and supportive of Renee forming an attachment to the two of them.

“Damian,” Renee asks when his Maman is on the stand, “Is Maman a bad person?”

Damian is not sure how to answer this. He is no expert on people and his experience with parents is limited and unusual. His mother is an ambitious assassin who raised him to be cold-hearted and brutish. There is little love lost between the two of them. Still, Damian can’t bring himself to think of his mother as a bad person. A villain, maybe, but she had her moments--as brief and few as they were-- of kindness. As far as Damian can tell, Talia really thinks she is doing right by the world. All she wants to do is make the world a better place, though how she goes about doing that is... less than savory.

He shoots a look at Marinette. She shrugs and says, “Just tell him what you’re thinking.”

“People aren’t bad.” The words feel shaky on his tongue. Talia and Bruce both have very different ideology that they’ve espoused to him, but neither feels right to say to Renee. It’s weird to say there are no bad people in the world, when he is a vigilante who fights villains on a daily basis. To say that people like the Joker are not bad, when he has so much blood on his hands. He looks at Marinette, and she’s giving him an encouraging smile. It makes him feel like he’s saying the right thing. “Misguided and twisted, yes. There are also people who are bad for you. Their decisions and actions can be bad, and they can be hurtful.”

Marinette smiles, and it makes Damian feel good. He’s never really expressed his feelings on the dichotomy of people being good or bad, but he thinks about it often enough. His siblings and father all have pretty varying views on the matter, so he can’t claim that he is right, but if Marinette agrees with him, he can’t be all that wrong.

If this view isn’t wrong, perhaps he’s needs to reevaluate his relationships with the people surrounding him, and his feelings towards himself. Dick has tried for a very long time to make Damian believe that he is not a bad person, but Damian has never really believed him. Dick says Damian was just misguided in his youth, following the instructions of someone who should have known better. That so long as Damian tries to be a better person and do better things, that he will be a good person.

Being a good person has never sounded right to Damian. He knows that his hands have taken lives and if he’s being honest, he’s not that unwilling to take more. Father believes killing people is a bad thing and refuses to do it. When Todd went off on his own and killed people, Father said it was unacceptable, and that it didn’t matter that the people he killsed were doing bad things. Thus, if Damian killed in the past, Dick’s logic simply doesn’t make sense. He cannot redeem himself from the lives he has taken; they cannot magically resurrect themselves.

But if people aren’t good or bad and only their actions are, then maybe Damian is a hero, as Dick has continually tried to convince him. He has faced consequences for his past actions, and though he’s not sure that the consequences will ever be enough, the decisions he makes now are better. As Robin, he goes out of his way to help people. As Damian, he ocassionally tries to mediate.

“Still, even if people aren’t good or bad,” Marinette whispers into Renee’s ear and squeezes his hand, “That doesn’t mean you have to be with them. If they’ve hurt you, it’s your right to avoid them, and you shouldn’t feel bad for doing that.”

Celia shivers on the stand and the few times that she brings herself to look at Renee, Marinette can see the beginnings of remorse on her face. Realization and remorse are the first steps to change. There is a future out there that will let Renee and Celia be together again, though Marinette personally doubts that it will ever happen.

After the trial, Renee is released to the custody of Monsieur and Madame DeVries, and Celiaa is sentenced to 14 years in jail, with a possibility of parole in 7 years. Many of the scandals th Silverstein company has under their belt was pushed onto Celia. Marinette can’t say she’s pleased with that, but it’s not as though she’s willing to fight for a shorter jail sentence for this woman.

The five of them go out to celebrate the result of the trial filled with quiet joy.

One week after the trial, three since Damian arrived in Paris, and Marinette and Damian are engaged in a wrestling match in Marinette’s living room.

“Come on Marinette, don’t be such a sore loser.”

Marinette finally manages to flip and pin Damian onto the ground. “I would not have lost if you didn’t knock the controller out of my hands with thirty seconds to go!”

“That was just poor strategy on your part. You could have knocked my controller away too, instead of chasing after yours.” It’s surprisingly difficult for Damian to get himself out from under Marinette, and it’s even harder for him to flip her back and cage her. “Besides, it’s not my fault that you have such sweaty hands. Should keep a better grip, Pigtails.”

Marinette sputters. “Don’t insult my hairstyle choices!”

“I wasn’t insulting them. It’s a--” nickname. But Damian doesn’t give people he’s not close to nicknames. When he doesn’t know someone’s name, or doesn’t care for them, he calls them by distinguishing features. But Damian knows Marinette’s name and thinks that she’s a decent person. The way Pigtails rolled off of Damian’s tongue feels more like an endearment than anything else. He thinks that her pigtails are pretty cute, after all. They fit her childish persona when she is relaxed.

Sabine comes up the steps from the boulangerie and smiles at the two of them.

“You two are getting along well,” she says so nonchalantly that Damian feels a flush growing. He lets his weight off of Marinette, and she bounds up, onto her mother’s arm.

“Maman, tell Damian that my pigtails are great. He’s insulting them!”

Sabine smiles lovingly at her daughter and shakes one of the pigtails with her hand. “Definitely the tails of one very cute pig.”

“Maman, you can’t call me a pig. I’m your daughter.”

“I said a very cute pig.” Sabine looks at Damian and winks, and his flush grows even more. “Now isn’t it about time for the two of you to go back to school?”

Marinette groans. “Don’t remind me. Madame Mendeleev is going to give a physics test today.”

She grabs another pastry and her bag before kissing her Maman and heading out to the streets with Damian.

“Bye Maman, we’ll see you after we go visit Renee!”

“Bye, Sabine.” Damian inclines his head as Marinette’s mother waved them goodbye from behind the bakery counter.

It’s nice being friends with Marinette. The days go by quickly, and there’s rarely a dull moment. Somehow, the two of them kept meeting each other after akuma attacks, and between all of their accidental run-ins and their scheduled visits with Renee, Damian finds that he’s more often in the presence of Marinette Dupain-Cheng than he is alone.

At first, Marinette is prickly, but after Lila spreads the lie that he doesn’t speak French well and feels anxious when in big groups, and oh, did she mention that he wants to leave and not be friends with any of them, the class doesn’t really bother with him much. She’s much more willing to be around him once that occurs.

Surprisingly, what Lila said isn’t even that much of a lie. He wants-- or at least wanted-- to leave Paris because he thought that Hawkmoth wasn’t that big of a deal. He certainly doesn’t want to befriend anyone who is imbecilic enough to believe Lila. His French is a little bit rusty, but it’s definitely passable.

Now that Lila is not constantly trying to hold Damian’s forearm, he relaxes a lot. Marinette is a calming, level-headed person who balances out Damian’s doom and gloom with cheer and optimism. She’s good at catching him up on the classwork, though not the best ad science, and is a responsible person that Damian trusts with most things.

Lately, he’s been thinking of trusting her a little more and fishing for information on Hawkmoth, Chat Noir, and Ladybug. For some reason, Damian thinks that she will be a very good source of information if he approaches it the right way.

He aces the physics test. It’s a good day.

They’re walking back to Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie when they come across Nicolette, the girl Marinette saved from Fraser.

“Marinette! Damian! I’m so glad I ran into you two. I never got a chance to thank you guys for saving me.” Nicolette looks infinitely happier than when they had first met her. She’s so different than when Damian first met her. He’s never been good at reconciling people in extreme situations of stress with how they are normally, so Damian supposes this is just par for the course.

“Can I get you guys coffee? It’s really such a relief that Fraser’s finally off my back. He was hounding me for a long time.” Nicolette’s voice trails off towards the end. She’s ashamed.

“I’m free. I’d love to have coffee with you. Damian?”

Damian doesn’t have any real reason to refuse. Research on Hawkmoth is important, but he’s hit a dead end as of late, and stressing about the lack of information-- Damian curses magic, for the umpteenth time-- will do nothing. It doesn’t help that he can hear his older brothers in his head, telling him that he needs to get a life.

“How’s your new job going?” Marinette falls into conversation with the girl, and the two of them manage to drag him into the conversation as well. Having a rapport with someone he barely knows is unusual, but surprisingly pleasant. There’s no need to go into depth over things he doesn’t care for, and anything that a party doesn’t seem interested in or doesn’t like is glossed over immediately.

Perhaps his brothers are right, and Damian does need to get a few more friends his age.

“My boss says that if I keep performing the way I am, I’ll get a promotion before the end of the year! Can you believe that?”

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you. And your coworkers?”

“They’re pretty amazing. I’m so glad that I decided to work for Dior instead of Silverstein and Company. Silverstein was what really sent Fraser off, and they’re not even in fashion. They’re in real estate or something. Dior always reminds me how valued I am, and that’s something I really needed after dealing with Fraser for so long.” Nicolette looks around the cafe and lowers her voice. “There’s not a lot of information out about it in the media yet, but I’ve heard that Silverstein is going to be in pretty hot water soon; someone high up in their Paris branch really messed up. Apparently she was doing all sorts of illegal things under the table, and let a lot of those who were under her get away with the same thing.”

Marinette and Damian exchange looks. They know exactly who she’s talking about, but they come to the joint decision that they don’t need to talk about it. Because talking about how they know means talking about Renee. And even though Nicolette is friendly, there is no reason to expose another person’s life story. Especially not when they’re as vulnerable as Renee is. Marinette gently redirects the conversation back to fashion.

“Oh, I love Dior! Their ready to wear line was to die for this year.”

“Definitely, a lot of my friends like Gabriel better, but I simply adore the way that Dior emphasizes femininity. I don’t think that women need to emulate men in their fashion; we’re amazing the way we are, and should be appreciated.” Nicolette looks Marinette up and down. “Speaking of, I love your outfit. It doesn’t look like it’s something from a ready-made store.”

“I like to design my own clothes from time to time,” Marinette waves off the compliment. “Both Gabriel and Dior’s original missions are founded on principles that I greatly admire, though I have to admit that I’ve had some personal run-ins with Monsieur Agreste that have reflected poorly on his recent choices, and I am no longer the biggest fan of his work. It’s sad that he’s deviated so much from what he originally wanted to do-- give his wife and women the power to be treated as an equal.”

Marinette isn’t exactly sure how Gabriel treats Adrien in his entirety, but what little she does know is enough for her to despise the man. For the past year, Marinette has wanted to emancipate Adrien, and that desire has only gotten stronger in the past few months. In her gut, Marinette knows her initial suspicions are correct: Gabriel has to be Hawkmoth. More recently, even their moods seem to be interconnected. Gabriel has been hounding Adrien more than usual-- more photoshoots, late nights, less correspondence with his friends, more of a diet, and those are only things that Marinette has observed. And Hawkmoth has been coming after her and Chat Noir with a vengeance. He’s released an akuma every single day for the past month, and it’s taxing on her, though Marinette can’t say that his newest strategy is any weirder than the other ones he’s been trying out during the past half year. At least the akumas aren’t that strong, but it’s worrying because Chat Noir feels more obligated to come out to at least half of the akuma battles, and it’s clear that he’s too tired and too busy to do so.

“What about you, Damian? Do you have a favorite courtiere?” Marinette smiles sheepishly. They’re talking about fashion, and she’s not sure that he enjoys the subject all that much.

“I don’t know much about fashion, but all my brothers can talk about is this new designer that’s been working with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. They’re completely obsessed, but I can’t remember the name.” Damian thinks the designer’s name had an M in it, but he’s not sure.

“Oh, MDC! They’re so elusive, but their designs are stunning. I’d love to work with them, if I ever get a chance. It’s a pity that they’re so secretive.” Nicolette whips out her phone. “I have a whole file on all of the designs that they’ve released so far. They have a great eye for color, and their construction is flawless. I even have a few designs that they haven’t claimed, but I’m pretty sure they made it. All of them have a pretty distinctive--”

Nicolette narrows her eyes. “Wait.”

Marinette looks down at her cup, and then back up into Nicolette’s, calm and steady. “I love MDC too. Since I’m an aspiring designer, I reference everything she makes pretty often. I based my jacket off the one she made for Clara, with a little bit of Dior Spring 2017 for flair.”

“No. Way.” Nicolette’s eyes set themselves on the lapel of her blazer. “No, no, no, there’s no way.”

Damian raises an eyebrow, looks at Marinette and then Nicolette. Nicolette’s mouth hangs slightly ajar while Marinette holds her cup of coffee. He feels like he’s missing something here, but he’s not exactly sure what. MDC. Marinette. MDC. Marinette.

He pauses. What is Marinette’s last name again? He thinks he’s heard it at least once before-- must have, because they needed to state their full name for the court records-- but what?

Nicolette squeals and takes Marinette’s hands. Still, she knows when to keep things a secret; since Marinette hasn’t revealed her identity yet, there must be a reason why she wants to keep it a secret. Marinette saved her, so there’s no way that Nicolette is going to betray her trust. Plus, this might give Nicolette a huge break if she plays her cards right.

Apparently, Nicolette deems Damian either to be nobody important, or somebody who’s already in confidence with this secret that Marinette is keeping, so she lowers her voice just enough so that the three at the table can hear. “I cannot believe that I’ve met you. I can’t believe that you saved me! Do you know how kickass that is? Half of the designers who are working for us look like they’re fragile enough to blow away if one more needle stabs them. Oh my god. I can’t believe this. This is one of the best days of my life.”

For her part, Marinette looks confused, with an underlying current of either amusement and possibly anxiety. “They are pretty new to the industry. It’s rare to meet another fan!”

“Don’t play me like that. I got my job for a reason. I was one of the top scorers in business school and might have been hired for my background in technology, but the reason why I had an emphasis on fashion is because I am obsessed with couture. And when I get obsessed, it’s pretty easy for me to see when it’s one of my favorite designer’s styles.”

“Thanks for thinking that I copied them so well!” Marinette smiles, and Damian almost doesn’t catch the hint of tension in her shoulders. “I do have a lot of free time on my hands though. High school student and all.”

Marinette has learned to lie very well. After years of hiding life-altering secrets, she has to be. There’s a lot riding on her ability to keep silent. Paris, for example.

Unfortunately for her, the two people at the table aren’t fooled by her act. Damian pieces it together from context clues and a quick glance in his contact list, where Marinette is listed as “Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Nicolette, on the other hand, is very well versed in MDC’s past designs, and also has the conviction to follow through with her beliefs.

Marinette’s denial of her alter-ego is not outlandish. She’s a teenage girl, and perhaps not ready to face the media storm that would come after outing herself to the public. So Nicolette drops the issue, and Damian doesn’t comment. She hums, pulls out a business card and says, “Well, your construction on your blazer is much better than we see with interns usually. If you’re ever interested in coming to Dior, just shoot me a message. I’d be glad to give you a referral or help in any way. It’s the least I can do.”

“Wow, that’s amazing! I’m not sure, but I’m thinking of trying to intern this summer.” Marinette isn’t sure that she can, what with her duties as Ladybug that will inevitably pull her away from her internship and will not reflect well on her work ethic (she really needs to take down Hawkmoth before she gets into college, or at least before she gets into the working world), but it would be nice to intern for one of the biggest fashion companies. And honestly, after knowing how awfully Gabriel treats his own son, she’s not sure she wants to find out how he treats his interns.

“Please Marinette,” Nicolette says, eyes twinkling. “With your skills, I can land you more than an intern position. But it was nice catching up. We should do this again, sometime.”

“It was nice,” Damian says, and he finds that he means it. More than nice, actually. Damian knows more about Marinette now, and he’s sure that there’s even more for him to discover. She certainly keeps things interesting, that’s for sure.

“Definitely.”

“Eugh. Damian, would you please throw out that shirt of yours?” Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Mustard yellow is not your shade. How is it that the one colored shirt that you have in your wardrobe is also the ugliest thing you own?”

Since they now see each other on an almost daily basis and Marinette’s proclivity for fashion has been outed, she voices her distaste with Damian’s limited fashion sense more often than not. The boy knows how to work a good black t-shirt and jeans, but not much else. She asked him if he was trying to go for the emo look, yesterday, and when he said no, she demanded that he wear something with color the following day, So, Damian flipped through the clothes that he brought with him to France, and found that the only colored clothing he brought was a t-shirt he doesn’t even remember packing.

“I’m wearing something colorful,” he says. “You told me to.”

“If I knew that this was the only thing that you owned in color, I would have gladly let you remain in your emo phase.” Marinette sighs. “Now that I know this is your only option and that you are not an emo, I have no choice.”

In the time that has passed since the two of them met with Nicolette, Marinette has not acknowledged the elephant in the room. She has said nothing of her relation to MDC, but it’s not hard to figure it out. Damian spent the night after they met up with Nicolette looking at a collection of all the things that MDC has designed and found a very distinctive logo sewn into each. This logo is also found on all of the things that are up in Marinette’s room, but he hasn’t mentioned it. Thus, the two of them pretend that she is just an aspiring designer, rather than one who already has high-end clientele.

With a dramatic swoon and an intake of breath, Marinette says, “I suppose I must help you with your wardrobe. The reformation of one Damian Grayson has now been entrusted to me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

The mention of Damian’s fake last name makes him bristle more than the jab at his clothing colors.

“My wardrobe is fine. I don’t see anybody else complaining.”

“Damian. You interact with maybe five people on a regular basis in Paris. Renee doesn’t think you can do a single bad thing in the world, and his Nonna and Nonno aren’t going to say anything about your fashion choices. The barista at the cafe is head over heels for you and clearly doesn’t think about anything but your pretty eyes and the muscles under your t-shirt. Maman and Papa just think that you’re a teenager who doesn’t have more than one outfit, and that you’re possibly emo.” Marinette pauses. “You do have more than one outfit, right?”

Damian scoffs. He may not know fashion, but he can certainly afford more than one outfit. Still, Marinette doesn’t know much about him in terms of family or finance. They’ve kept everything very surface level, though he’s sure that she has her own assumptions. He has his own about her, though he does have more information to work with. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s missing something big, though. The way they keep meeting up after akumas and the way she’s able to take people down so easily when Damian knows that she doesn’t actually go to the martial arts class down the street from Francois Dupont. But every time he tries to think about it for too long, something else draws his attention. His train of thought always slips away.

“Don’t you scoff at me young man. I am now obligated to help you, you poor, misguided soul. I am going to dress you to impress.” Her grin broadens. “I bet that I can get that barista to ask you on a date. What would you prefer; for her to leave her number on a cup, for her to silently drool over you, or for her to try to work up the nerve to ask you out directly?”

“I don’t want her to ask me out at all.” He leans back onto the armrest of the sofa and assesses her.

“Come on, Damian. You need to make more friends. Go out. Live a little!”

“This, coming from you,” Damian says amusedly. Marinette and his brothers would get along splendidly, if they ever met. Not that they will.

Marinette huffs. “I certainly have more friends than you, and I definitely interact with way more people than you do.”

“That’s what you get for working in customer service. And also for having some sort of moral obligation to save the world.”

At this, Marinette almost stutters. Her mind instantly goes to Ladybug. But Damian can’t know. All of the times that she’s seen him on scene after an akuma attack, they were all coincidences. They have to be.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to save everyone and their uncle from stalkers and continue to intervene in random street fights, but where I’m from, that certainly doesn’t happen very often.”

Oh. Oh, he is talking about her civilian form. He doesn’t know. It’s fine.

“Funny, because you always seem to step in to help whenever you see me.” Marinette frowns. “Say, where are you from, anyways? I know you’re from America, which explains why you have such horrible fashion sense, but where?” Marinette cracks a smile, thinking of Damian in American stereotypes.

“So what was it? A surfer? A cowboy? Oh my god, a skater boy,” she cackles. She can totally see it. The slightly rebellious slightly punk combo. There’s no way that Damian wasn’t a skater boy back in the states.

Damian looks insulted. “I was not a skater boy. If you must know, I’m from Gotham.”

Is that too much information? He regrets it almost as soon as the words are out of his mouth, but he has gotten too relaxed in her presence. That isn’t good. He can’t let things slip like that. He should have redirected her, let him think that he was from New York, or that he was a skater boy. If Marinette decides to look up Damian and Gotham, there are a good number of photos of him alongside his real last name. Then she’ll wonder why he lied to begin with. That will be bad. That can’t happen.

She considers him. “You’ve really got it rough, don’t you? Moving from one crime infested city to the next. Gotham’s worse, though. At least here, we’ve only got two overpowered villains and a bunch of victims. Over there… the likes of the Joker and Two-Face? They hurt people, and there’s no Miraculous Cure from Ladybug to fix the damage they’ve done. Honestly, I’m surprised that you don’t avoid danger at every turn.”

Gothamites do tend to avoid danger much more than their Parisian counterparts. Gothamites walk with purpose and are rarely out on the streets longer than they absolutely have to be; they’re a smart bunch, who don’t want to get involved if they don’t have to. Most people keep their cards close to their chest, and don’t let people know that they care.

Damian doesn’t think it’s bad, though he does have to admit that Paris is less dangerous. Frustrating, because he can’t do much when a situation arises, but it’s almost nice how normal he feels in Paris. That’s something he hasn’t gotten to experience much of, and while the first few days were weird, he’s settled into a sort of routine. He gets along with Marinette a hell of a lot better than any of his classmates back in Gotham, except for maybe Kent, but he and Kent rarely see each other during school hours.

Marinette breezes back to talking about fashion, almost as if she knows that she’s getting into territory that neither of them are quite ready to go into, and Damian gladly accepts it.

She claps her hands and says, “We’re going shopping. Let’s get you a wardrobe that makes your loved ones proud.”

It doesn’t escape Damian’s notice that she says loved ones instead of parents, and wonders if she knows more than he thinks she does. He wonders if she already knows that he’s Damian Wayne. Somehow, he doubts that she knows or cares that he is the son of an American billionaire with mommy issues. But it does feel good to have someone that doesn’t assume things about the state of his family. She’s been incredibly noninvasive and patient, backing off as soon as she thinks there’s a possible limit if he ever says more than he means to. Damian wonders if this courtesy is because she doesn’t want her own secrets to get out. It doesn’t matter, whatever the reason.

He’s glad for it.

They’re in her bedroom.

Damian lies on her chaise, tossing a stress ball that he finds on her desk. Marinette sits in her rolling chair, working on a commission.

“Ever thought of opening up a website?” Marinette’s room is nice. It has a feminine charm to it, but nothing overwhelming. Very different from Barbara’s chaotically organized room that has cold cases and theories lying around on every open surface and Cassandra’s weapon filled one.

Marinette hums. “I’ve thought about it. I don’t know if I want to. I don’t really have the technical expertise to make it happen.”

“You’ve got Nicolette. I wouldn’t be opposed to helping you with the technological aspect, either.”

At her desk, Marinette’s hands still. “The commissions I get just from word of mouth are pretty amazing. They’re also pretty time consuming.”

Damian can’t tell if he’s pushing too hard. If she’s uncomfortable with what he’s saying. Not for the first time since he’s been around Marinette, Damian wishes that he could read people better.

“But you want to be a fashion designer. You can only do so much with word of mouth.”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” Marinette counters. “I’ve got years before I can even think about making it big.”

This… annoys him for some reason. Marinette doesn’t have to wait for years before making a splash in the fashion industry. She already is. And she can make an even bigger one if she just makes a way for people to contact her reliably.

He sits up. “You are perfectly capable of achieving your dreams now.Why are you putting what you’re passionate about on hold? It makes little sense to limit yourself when there are celebrities around the world vying for a piece of yours. Even my brothers like your designs, and it’s difficult to catch their attention.”

Briefly, Damian wonders if his words would mean more to her if she knew he is a Wayne. That his brothers are Waynes-- the impossible to please, highly irritable Waynes. He shakes away the thought. Thanks to her everyday hero attitude, she’s gotten to meet a surprising amount of famous people or people on their way to fame, and she treats them no differently when she finds out.

What goes on inside the brain of Marinette is far beyond him. Every time he thinks he has her pegged, she does something that makes his assumptions wrong. It’s frustrating how little he knows about her when he is supposed to be one of the world’s greatest detectives. The one thing that doesn’t change, the only common thread that he can follow is that Marinette cares for people far better than most care for themselves.

It’s only been one month, but Marinette is passionate about everything she does, from helping out her parents at the bakery to all of the random acts of kindness she does around town. The good will she shows people on the streets, whether they’re down on their luck that day or are going through a rough patch is unconventional and awe-inspiring. Anyone she meets who’s in a really bad situation is immediately swept up into endless love and affection and she always continues to meet up with them when they need it. If she comes across a situation where she can help,Marinette always follows through. She drops everything for complete strangers that she meets.

So why can’t she take a stab at her own dreams?

“I don’t have time,” Marinette manages. Damian doesn’t think that he’s seen her breathe since they’ve started this conversation.

“Marinette. Look at me.”

She turns to him, eyes downcast and mind clearly elsewhere.

“Marinette.”

She looks at him. Damian is taken aback at the kind of blue her eyes are. Layers of different shades of blue with flecks that almost look silver surrounding her pupil. Even her eyes have freckles.

“You need to make the time.” And then, she looks so helpless, her eyes full of regret and confusion and anxiousness.

Damian wants to do something. With his hands, or feet, or something. He wants to move, he wants to hold her. He settles for running a hand through his hair, a highly unusual action. He likes his hair neat and doesn’t like tics. They make him feel weak. But if running his hand through his hair can stop him from reaching out to Marinette-- for what, Damian thinks, a hug?--then he’ll do it.

“I’m busy, Damian,” she says plaintively, like she’s begging him to believe her.

Why, though? Damian doesn’t understand. Why can’t she just make a website? God knows his brothers would be all over it. The only reason Tim hasn’t figured out her identity is because he respects the fact that MDC clearly does not want to go public. He’s been trying to hunt down an alternate way to get an MDC commission for months now and has only just stopped short of reaching out to Jagged himself. Damian doesn’t understand why he feels so frustrated at her lack of effort, either. He’s seen plenty of people around him in Gotham give up on their dreams in favor of more practical ways of life. People he knew that were talented and could make it, and he never, ever pushed them. Because it was their life. Their decisions. So why?

Why does it hurt so much when Marinette doesn’t follow her dreams?

“I see. Then if you’re so busy, maybe I should stop taking up your time.” The words taste like blood in his mouth. What is he doing? Being with Marinette makes him feel good. Like he’s worthy of being Bruce Wayne’s blood son and that he’s a good brother. Why should he give that up just because Marinette doesn’t want to grow up?

He drops through the trap door and closes it behind him. He goes back to the apartment his father bought him for his stay in Paris. It is empty, cold, and impersonal. For the first time since he’s met Marinette, Damian desperately wishes that the Justice League would give him permission to be Robin.

2:02 AM | Marinette: Damian?

Marinette: hey im sorry for

Marinette: honestly i don’t even know i

2:06 AM | Marinette: will you help me make a website?

2:10 AM | Damian: ok

Damian: i’ll come over tomorrow after school?

2:12 AM | Marinette: yeah

Marinette: that sounds good

3:30 AM | Marinette: im sorry i don’t really know what for but i’m sorry

Marinette: i felt really horrible

Marinette: im sorry

3:37 AM | Damian: you need to learn how to take care of yourself before you take care of others

Damian: please.

#miraculous ladybug #dcu #mlb x dc #maribat #daminette #damian wayne is robin #sbgs #original content #adrien agreste #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

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septiembrre · 4 years

Text

First line tag

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag some of your favorite authors!

Tagged by: @pynkhues, @mego42, @inyoursheets and @riosnecktattoo Thanks so much for tagging me y'all!

1. The hitman takes her to a ritzy restaurant downtown. (satisfied through the weekend)

2. It goes like this. Three months ago, a yoga mat shows up in the car. (A Bit of a Stretch)

3. It was a mess of a Fall. (Get to Be Mine Ch 1)

4. Beth’s first mistake was not calling the HVAC technician first thing in the morning. (I've Got To Lose My Cool)

5. It’s pitch dark in her bedroom and it takes Beth a minute to realize she’s awake. (I'll Treat You Better than I Did Before)

6. It’s been a few hours since Rio brought her to this house. (On a One-Last Time Basis, Untitled Ch 1)

7. When Beth slept with Rio again, it was on a one-last-time basis. (On a One-Last Time Basis, Untitled Ch 2)

9. Beth had made a mistake. She had started the bread late, off schedule. (On a One-Last Time Basis, Untitled Ch 3)

10. Beth is itchy, impatient ever since they boarded the plane to go home. (So I Come To You My Love)

11. It’s a rare conversation that creeps up when business is running smoothly, when there’s no major pettiness and they are -- happy. (Riendo Juntos)

12. Caring for herself has been a struggle for as long as Beth can remember. (Heavenly Hot Tubs)

13. After Rio came back and came for her -- after, he was seemingly fucking resurrected -- things became more difficult than Beth could have imagined. (Y por fin volvere a verte)

Observations:

- I'm having feelings about seeing them all listed like this!!! The opening line is one of the first things I write and then I get attached to it, it becomes a fact and I refuse to edit it once I'm further along -- because that's how it starts! But, I could stand to do some further consideration/editing.

- I start with a lot of observations (and perceived mistakes). After looking at other folks' lists, I'm very interested to try starting with dialogue or sensory experiences.

Favorites:

A Bit of a Strech and the first sentence of Get to Be Mine

Tagging: I think a lot of folks have done this already? I'll pick on @joeyjoeylee bc I know she's not always on Tumblr. @querenaxx I don't think you've done it either? @sothischickshe

#ask memes #first sentence tag #i really thought putting the colors would make it more legible #but I’m not sure that that is true

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tiramisiyu · 4 years

Text

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Main Story 4-1 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 4 – Heart’s Fire: 4-1 / 4-3 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-8 / 4-9 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-15 / 4-17 / 4-18

I originally did not translate this part when translating Chapter 4, but for the sake of completion, I’m putting this here now! I am also planning to go through the rest of the Ch.4 translation to revise and check it again, in coming days.

Café

While I was sorting out Gong Cheng’s experiment notes with Zuo Ran, I suddenly received a call from Lu Jinghe.

[Flashback]

Lu Jinghe: Hey, you busy right now? Could you come out for a bit? I’m right at the café downstairs from your law firm.

MC: What is it that’s this urgent?

Lu Jinghe: I’d like to entrust you with a case, and I can’t talk about it clearly over phone. Otherwise, I wouldn’t specially come over.

Lu Jinghe: Have I impeded your work? My apologies, if it really isn’t convenient, could I meet up with you after work tonight?

Lu Jinghe: Taking up your rest time doesn’t seem to be that good either, but I…

What would trouble Lu Jinghe to this extent? My curious heart was hooked on by him.

MC: I’ve got time right now. Wait for me for a bit – I’ll go let Lawyer Zuo know.

Hearing that Lu Jinghe was looking for me, Zuo Ran furrowed his eyebrows, but he didn’t hold me back.

I hurriedly cleaned up and rushed straight to the café downstairs.

As soon as I came in, I heard the sound of Lu Jinghe’s fingers snapping. He was sitting at a booth by the window, waving at me.

MC: Since this thing has made you so anxious, could it be that you’ve noticed a clue about that fake Artist Z?

After the case where Lu Jinghe was framed for murder, he and I went to see an art exhibition again, yet we unexpectedly encountered an Artist Z counterfeit case.

To artist Lu Jinghe, the nature of this case was extremely vile. We recently have been looking for related clues nonstop, but there were no developments for now.

Lu Jinghe: It’s not related to Artist Z. What’s up, have you been concerned about that case the whole time?

Lu Jinghe: Thank you, I hope it didn’t add extra burdens onto you.

Without silver-tongued smooth talking or playful teasing, Lu Jinghe actually thanked me in complete earnestness?!

MC: You’re a bit different from usual today – exactly what issue did you run into?

Lu Jinghe: Have you heard of the person named Huang Haochu?

MC: Is it that famous appraiser and Leinster Auction House’s partner, Huang Haochu?

Lu Jinghe: Right, that’s him. He counts as the one who enlightened me on the path of art, and I’ve always respected him deeply.

MC: But I remember that last year, Huang Haochu… was murdered?

Lu Jinghe: Yes, Teacher Huang is no longer here.

Lu Jinghe: Last year, a scandal on Leinster counterfeited auction goods was exposed, and public opinion pointed towards Teacher Huang as the one behind it.

Lu Jinghe: The media claimed that Cui Yuan, Leinster’s boss, got into conflict with Teacher Huang due to accountability questions about the counterfeit case.

Lu Jinghe: In their fight, Cui Yuan used his own tie to suffocate Teacher Huang to death.

The alleged counterfeit goods scandal stated that, after a deal was reached on Leinster’s auctions, they would use fakes to replace the authentic goods, handing them to the purchasers.

The replaced authentic goods appeared on the artwork black market. Leinster sold them twice, exploiting this for large profit.

After this matter occurred, Leinster Auctions’ reputation took a nosedive, verging on bankruptcy.

Boss Cui Yuan found appraiser and partner Huang Haochu, requesting that he come forward and bear the responsibility, and to cut ties with the company, but he was rejected by Huang Haochu.

Due to this, the two fought, which led up to a murder.

MC: I saw a related report online, but my impression was… there still hasn’t been a judgement on this murder case?

Lu Jinghe: There is indeed no judgement. Plus, the true circumstances of the case is as different as can be from what the media reported.

Lu Jinghe: In their investigation, the police noticed that the police did not murder Huang Haochu maliciously. Instead, he assisted Teacher Huang, who had depression, commit suicide.

MC: Assisted suicide?! Does Cui Yuan not know that this is illegal?

Lu Jinghe: The police speculated that Teacher Huang had started considering death due to depression, to begin with.

Lu Jinghe: With Cui Yuan assisting his suicide, it would be perfect timing to use this tragedy to counter the unfavourable public opinions brought by the counterfeit auction goods, thus saving Leinster.

MC: These methods sound…

Lu Jinghe: Hah, I also don’t agree with the police’s conclusion. Plus, Cui Yuan himself has remained firm in not pleading guilty.

Lu Jinghe: After Cui Yuan was arrested, he said the whole time that he had nothing to do with Teacher Huang’s murder, and he knew nothing of the murder.

Lu Jinghe: He wants to plead innocence for himself, and has gone through several lawyers due to this, resulting in the repeated postponement of trial time.

Lu Jinghe: The day before yesterday, the court decided that a trial would be held for this case next Thursday, and they would not extend the time period again.

MC: It was probably the Public Prosecution that raised a lawsuit for this case. It couldn’t be that you’re looking for me to defend Cui Yuan?

Lu Jinghe: In name, you would be defending Cui Yuan, but in reality, I want to request you to help me find out Teacher Huang’s real murderer.

MC: Huh? You believe that Cui Yuan was not the murderer?

Lu Jinghe: No. To me, he is still one of this case’s suspects.

Lu Jinghe: It’s just that the emotional pain and guilt he’s displayed towards Teacher Huang doesn’t look at all like he’s putting on an act to be exonerated.

Lu Jinghe: I suspect that this case truly does have another, hidden story, and I can’t just sit and watch without doing anything.

MC: It’s already been nearly a year since this case, and few clues are left. Hopes of this case being reversed are very weak.

MC: Plus, it’s already Friday today, and there’s only five whole days of time. I’m afraid that there’s not enough time…

Lu Jinghe: I apologize, I know I’m troubling you…

Lu Jinghe: I also just found out about this inside info on the case. Otherwise, I wouldn’t think about investigating so long after the case happened.

Lu Jinghe: If the Lu family’s lawyers appear in this case, it would only hype up and feed into the media, and it would be incredibly unfavourable to the investigation. So…

MC: You’ve misunderstood, I’m not finding excuses to evade this. I just didn’t want to let you down. Plus, there are some things I must say upfront.

MC: If it’s just investigating the truth, of course there’s no problem. But I cannot lightly agree to being the defense lawyer, with regards to the suspect’s vital interests.

MC: I require that I meet with Cui Yuan first. Only after getting an understanding of the details of the case can I decide whether to defend him.

Lu Jinghe: We’ll do as you say. I’m already very grateful that you’re willing to try, and I naturally won’t make you accomplish anything.

MC: In a moment, I’ll go look up the files on this case to understand the details of the police’s investigation.

Lu Jinghe: Thank you for your hard work. I still ended up bringing trouble to you.

Lu Jinghe lowered his head and lifted the coffee cup, revealing a sliver of sadness as he spoke.

Lu Jinghe: People on the outside often think that the Pax Group is enormously powerful, and there is nothing that the heir to Pax can’t do.

Lu Jinghe: But it’s actually the exact opposite. I have a lot more instances of “no other alternatives” and “no way out” compared to typical people, due to my identity.

Lu Jinghe: Around me, the friends that I can speak truthfully with are very few.

Seeming like his own words induced some state of mind on him, he sank into silence, turning to look out the window.

The sun shone on his slim ears, and the gemstone studs reflected a dazzling light, but there was no way to disperse of the desolation in his appearance.

MC: Don’t you still have me? I’m your friend.

Lu Jinghe: Yes, I still have you. Good thing I have you.

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #mihoyo #未定事件簿 #lu jinghe #tot translation

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peter-parkers-passport · 3 years

Text

Flower Child (Peter Parker x ofc)

Chapter 11: Just a Nobody

I’m really sorry I haven’t been consistent in updating on this platform, I think I’ll just mass update on here and catch up to speed? Idk, it’s a lot and again, I’m sorry. I’m trying to find inspiration to write!

warnings: Peter being rude, angst, depictions of anxiety… sorry 😬, mentions of death

The pair of them didn’t leave the greenhouse until midnight that night. Papers had been scattered around a workbench in the greenhouse under a single lamplight, covered in formulas that had been scratched and edited past legibility. Lila and Peter made an incredible team, much to their surprise, and within just a few short hours, a new webbing formula had been made.

Peter also walked her home, despite Lila reassuring him that he didn’t have to. He merely brushed off her attempts and bid her goodnight at her door. And despite the crazy events, like her almost dying, she went to bed with a smile on her face. Her crush was a superhero, how could she not?

When she went to school the next day, Lila was tired but cheerful. A light kind of air sat in her chest and put her in a good mood, even with the whispers of what happened the day before following her to her locker. She supposed the feeling of falling in an elevator made things like school more enjoyable since they were a part of living, but she attributed her happiness mostly to the two boys who walked quickly over to her locker as soon as they saw her.

“Hey, Lila,” Peter said, lips twitching in a nervous smile.

“Hey, guys, what’s-?”

“So you know?” Both Lila and Peter looked to Ned, whose expression was unreadable. “About-“ His voice lowered into a whisper, “-Peter’s sticky situation?”

A patch of red grew on the boy in question’s face, and he sent an exasperated stare his friend’s way. “Dude, come on, at least think of a better code name.”

“So you know?” Ned asked Lila again, to which she nodded apprehensively. Her eyes flickered to Peter, who offered an apologetic shrug. When she looked back to Ned again, he looked relieved. “Finally. I’ve really needed this, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it a secret-“

“Ned,” Peter said, “You found out last week.”

“- I thought I was gonna blow it, but I didn’t. And now I can talk to you about how totally amazing this is.” Ned inhaled deeply, launching into a slew of questions. “So how did you know it was him? Are you psychic? Did you psychically connect to Peter, and that’s how he saved your life? Do you have, like, a spider-link now?”

“N-No, it wasn’t anything like that,” Lila answered him, Peter giving her a thankful look that she interrupted Ned’s questioning. She tucked her hair behind her ear before continuing, “Peter disappearing the night before, y-you having the Ch-Chitauri core, and - and the Stark Internship. Just… a lot of it d-didn’t add up.” Lila looked around them to see Michelle walk through the front doors. “Look, I’d b-better go before MJ gets suspicious but I’ll see you guys for fourth.”

Peter and Ned said their goodbyes while Lila walked down the hallway to her friend. Before she could reach MJ, however, Lila was stopped by Betty Brant, who had a fiercely determined look on her face. “Lila,” she practically addressed, her tone was so formal.

“B-Betty,” Lila swallowed, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Wh-What’s up?”

“Midtown is running a story on the survivors of the almost-tragic Washington Monument scare yesterday. I need to know that you’ll be available for lunch to answer a few questions with the rest of your team. I would do it now, but I don’t have my co-host.” The last sentence ended with a note of bitterness, and Lila tilted her head in concern.

“Oh n-no, where’s - where’s Jason?”

Betty rolled her eyes, “His mom called him out of first period for some stupid dentist appointment and wouldn’t cancel. I’ve told him time and time again that his mom doesn’t understand how brutally competitive journalism can get in the age of technology.” Her eyes narrowed at the apparently sour thought. “Like, she doesn’t even know how embarrassing it was to see Principal Morita’s fall after the floors were waxed with new wax on Flash’s Snapchat story first. That should’ve been our story, but no, Jason had strep throat.” Her tone grew mocking and she put air quotes around “strep throat”. There was a beat of silence, and then, “Anyways, so I’ll see you at lunch?”

At this point, Lila had been daydreaming of a way to get out of the heated one-sided argument. “Sure.”

Satisfied, Betty nodded. “Good. And don’t talk to anyone else about what happened.” She strode away, leaving Lila feeling slightly confused as she walked over to where MJ was standing, watching the whole interaction.

*****

It didn’t go unnoticed that Lila was becoming fast friends with Peter and Ned. Soon enough, in the span of the next two days, they popped up nearly everywhere in her daily life. For some, it was a welcome addition to Lila’s friend count (now up to three). For others, it was a topic of slight confusion.

“I’m not, like, unhappy for you or anything,” Sophie commented one evening in the flower shop. She was watching Peter and Ned leave through the front doors, the cooler air from the outside falling at their feet. “I just didn’t know you were so close.”

Lila and the boys had just brought over some chemicals they’d nicked from school, and finally perfected the stronger webbing for Peter. It was all discreetly put away in a box tucked underneath spare gardening supplies. The box in question was placed in a corner, out of sight and hopefully out of anyone else’s minds that weren’t Peter’s, Lila’s, or Ned’s.

The door had shut by the time Lila turned back to Sophie, a light blush on her cheeks. “Falling in an e-elevator is a surprisingly easy way to m-make friends.” The flicker of suspicion in Sophie’s eyes disappeared almost immediately at Lila’s reply, and for a moment, Lila had the gut-twisting sensation of guilt. It was confusing: she wasn’t actually lying to Sophie, but she was hiding the truth. Plummeting to her death with Ned by her side did craft a strong foundation of friendship at a remarkably fast rate. And being one of about four people who knew Peter’s secret identity also warranted spending more time together than what was considered normal. Only, she couldn’t tell anyone that last part.

Lila hated that her cover story for spending time around the two boys was her near-death experience, but even she couldn’t deny its effectiveness. Sophie stopped asking questions after her comment, and soon started addressing them with the same familiarity as she would Michelle or her dad.

Michelle, whose skepticism came as easy as breathing, wasn’t as easy to persuade. MJ knew Ned was in the elevator with Lila, and her interest in them hanging out didn’t extend farther than a simple statement of, “Ned needs to download the free VPNs I sent you. I don’t want my network data accidentally getting monitored by the government because he’s using the WiFi at your shop.” Which was fine with Lila, Ned would be one less thing to worry about in regards to her most perceptive friend.

However, with Ned deemed not a problem, MJ’s wariness was focused on Peter. If she thought he was sketchy before, it was nothing compared to how she felt after he started to hang out with Lila. Michelle wasn’t much for holding a conversation with people she didn’t know, but the times where she did talk to Peter, it almost always was staged as interrogation. Lila felt sorry for Peter, for she knew MJ was intimidating, and too smart for her own good. She also knew that Michelle’s intention was a heavily-veiled protectiveness for her friend.

Ted Landry seemed to be the only person in Lila’s life who wasn’t suspicious of her new friends. In fact, he was completely clueless. Peter being around Lila more was merely a correlation to him personally checking on her the night she got back from D.C. The worst part was that Ted told Lila that the reason Peter was starting to be around her so much was because he had a crush on her.

“It just seems kind of obvious,” Ted said, ignoring the choking noises Lila emitted after hearing her dad’s thoughts. He merely patted her on the back as she tried to dislodge the granola that she accidentally sent down the wrong pipe. “I practically did the same thing with your mom, we became inseparable.”

Lila wished above all that her dad’s thoughts were the truth. But the brief look in Peter’s eyes that appeared whenever Liz walked by the three of them in the school’s hallways sent those thoughts crawling on all fours to the back of her mind.

*****

Over the next few days, Lila grew privy to the information Peter was gathering over the last week as Spider-Man. It all started with the bank robbers that accidentally decimated Delmar’s bodega, which Lila learned were capable of doing so with the acquisition of illegal weapons. Weapons that happened to have access to alien technology.

Peter and Ned explained that someone was stealing alien technology and fashioning weapons to distribute on the black market. Their target was Damage Control, whose existence was to be the clean-up crew of the Avengers.

“For lack of a better term,” Peter went on, fiddling with the screwdriver in his hand. That Wednesday evening, Peter had Ned and Lila over after he had perused the streets of Queens as Spider-Man. It was then the two boys filled Lila in on their mission. “But basically this department’s been confiscating all the alien tech and Ultron mess for the past eight years. And the helicarriers in Washington? They’re still working on that stuff.”

“And this guy in the wingsuit… the birdman?” Lila asked, trying to keep up with the nearly unbelievable tale.

A spark emitting from one of Peter’s web shooters had him diving back with his screwdriver. Ned, meanwhile, took the reigns. “We’re pretty sure he’s their leader. But they’ve got this stuff nearly on lockdown. Peter figures he must’ve been doing it from the beginning.”

Lila looked back over to Peter, “Do you know who he is? O-Or any kind of clue?”

The web shooter made a clicking noise that seemed to satisfy Peter. He turned away from his desk and set his eyes back on Lila. Shaking his head, he answered, “No, I’ve got no idea. And he got away with some of the stuff that was in the Damage Control trucks. Best guess, I’ll just have to catch them when they’re out selling this stuff again.” He paused, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. And after a moment, he added as an afterthought, “You didn’t happen to catch what Puth assigned for homework, did you? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Peter, dinner’s on the table - Lila!” May poked her head inside Peter’s door. Lila whipped her head around to see her large grin, and heard Peter hastily slam his desk drawer shut to hide his web shooters. “I had no idea you were here!”

“Hi, May,” Lila smiled, a pale pink dusting her cheeks. “H-How are things?”

“Finer than wine, honey. I feel so bad, I would’ve made more food if I’d’ve known you guys were going to be here.” Her lips pursed briefly as an afterthought came to mind. “Actually, it might be better if you guys hit the road.”

Peter stared at his aunt exasperatedly, “Oh, c’mon May-“

“Uh-uh,” her expression was suddenly stern when her eyes fell on him, “If you’re going to ditch class, then you’re not going to have friends over.” She softened her gaze when she moved back over to Lila and Ned. “You guys need a ride home?”

Lila grabbed her backpack, eyeing Peter and feeling confused. Why would he ditch class? Peter’s eyes met hers before answering her with a jerk of the head to his desk, where the web shooters lay hidden.

“No,” Lila finally answered, brushing off Peter’s answer with a wave of dismay. “N-No, thanks. My neighborhood’s just f-five blocks over.”

*****

Betty Brant released her story on Thursday morning. Apparently Jason actually did have a pretty awful tooth infection, and wasn’t able to co-anchor her story until then. When Lila walked into school, the conversation, which had just begun to die down, picked right back up, and attention was back on the academic decathlon.

Everyone at Midtown pretty much knew of Lila and her inability to confidently socialize with peers, but that didn’t stop them from pointing at her while poorly concealing whispers. So she was left to navigate the crowded hallways alone, doing her best to ignore the eyes that followed her and the sounds of the news story reporting on her brush with death. One thing she did manage to catch was Jason saying, “Thankfully, no one was seriously injured, thanks to Spider-Man. Up next, the Spider mania is sweeping the school, how can you show your Spider spirit?”

And Jason wasn’t wrong. The talk of Spider-Man was re-invigorated at the school news’ story, and if they weren’t talking about the decathlon team, they were talking about Spider-Man. Some people wore shirts they bought from street vendors, and talked about how amazing he was. Flash was the biggest proponent of this, boasting about how Spider-Man made a harrowing rescue, pulling Flash out of harm’s way just in time, and giving him a fist bump right afterwards. All of which was untrue, and Charles and Abraham we’re glad to remind everyone around Flash of the fact.

Lila felt a deep sense of pride as she made her way down the stairs and past the mural. She knew Peter must’ve been at school, and hearing all of the positive thoughts everyone had on his secret identity. She could feel it in the air: pride. A sense of pride that one of New York’s own was a hero, a champion of Queens. Even Lila herself felt that pride, but for other reasons entirely.

She ran into Ned first, who was beaming at the television screen in the corner of the hall. The two of them shared a knowing smile, and the pair launched into a quiet conversation about it in the otherwise loud hallways. Ned spotted Peter ahead of the two of them, and pushed around the students in his way. He and Lila met Peter at the foot of the stairs, all three grinning from ear to ear.

“Dude, dude, dude, what is it like being famous when no one knows it’s you?” Ned asked.

Rather modestly, Peter smiled and gripped the straps of his backpack. “It’s crazy,” he whispered, looking around to make sure other people weren’t listening.

“Crazy,” Ned repeated, almost in awe. “Should we tell everyone?”

Peter still smiled, but his head tilted a little in confusion, “No.”

“Should I tell everyone?”

“No, dude, that’s not a good idea.”

Ned looked to Lila, “Lila could tell everyone.”

“I-I would not,” Lila said, briefly panicked. She felt better seeing Peter let out a breathy laugh. “Really, I w-wouldn’t do it.”

Ned sighed, his hopes dashed. “Well, come on, we’re gonna be late to class.”

Lila was prepared to bid them goodbye, since their classes were on opposite sides of the hallway, but Peter didn’t follow Ned. “I’m not going to class.”

Ned looked at Lila and looked back, apprehensive, “You're already in so much trouble for ditching the decathlon-“

“P-Peter, you can’t keep d-ditching school-“

“Would you listen? I figured it out, right?” Peter’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m going to see if my suit can go back to the deal I walked in on the night of Liz’s party and find out where those guys came from. Maybe they can lead me to the wing suit guy, and then I can catch him!”

“But we have a Spanish quiz,” Ned argued.

Peter looked at Ned with an expression that felt a little belittling. He was tired of arguing and clearly didn’t see why Ned and Lila would want him to stay in school. It was a kind of reckless determination that didn’t sit well with Lila at all. “Ned, I’m probably never going to come back here. Mr. Stark is moving the Avengers upstate. So, when I bring this guy in-“

“Dude,” All the excitement from the morning was gone from Ned. “You wanna be a high school dropout?”

“It wouldn’t be like that,” Peter assured him, even though that’s exactly what it sounded like.

“Ned’s right, Peter, you can’t - you can’t just skip school t-to fight crime. High school’s important-“

But Peter wasn’t listening. In fact, he started walking away. “I am so far beyond high school, right now.” And as he turned to a pair of doors that led to the exit, Principal Morita stood in his way.

“Ah, Mr. Parker,” he said, already walking back down the hallway. “Come with me, my office. Ned, Lila, get to class.”

*****

“Here, c’mon,” MJ pulled at Lila’s arm. The girls had a free period, and usually spent it in the library. Lila has fully planned on spending it pretending to do her homework when in actuality she was just going to worry about Peter.

Skipping school just wasn’t like him. Lila thought he was getting caught up in his situation. True, it was extraordinary beyond belief, and there was no way to tell how she would handle it, but she thought Peter had more grit than what he was showing. School was important, almost if not equally as important as the crime Peter fought in the afternoons.

And then there was the issue of Tony Stark, and Peter’s idea of where he stood. Peter had the mindset that he had to prove himself to Tony Stark in order to be fully accepted into a world he’d always dreamt of, but that made little sense to Lila. In her mind, Tony Stark already was accepting of Peter. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given Peter the suit.

Those were the thoughts Lila distracted herself with in her first two periods, anyway. She’d planned on delving further into her worry during her free time next period. That is, until MJ changed their plans. “And where are we going?” Lila asked, allowing herself to be steered by her taller friend.

“I’ve been sketching the kids in detention,” she answered, ”Lila, they’re the perfect inspiration: they basically all just sit and wonder if they’re lives are going to spiral out of control. Like first, it’s detention, next it’s prison. I mean, you can’t get that kind of raw panic anywhere else.”

“I’m slightly worried you seem so excited about this,” Lila muttered, filing into the classroom where detention was being held. Coach Wilson was already perched at the desk, the TV on the stand waiting to play the Captain America tape that was at the ready. Michelle sat at the edge of the classroom, and Lila sat with her, already pulling out her homework.

She thought she got a few odd stares from the one or two kids that were further in the room, since Lila had never been in any kind of trouble in her life. Even though her presence wasn’t mandatory, she was still unsettled at the thought of being so close to a trouble she had no interest in ever being a part of. She only felt slightly better when Peter walked through the door as the bell rang. He eyed her suspiciously, and seemingly answered his own question when his gaze slid over to Michelle, who was already sketching away.

Peter looked antsy. Sitting in his seat, Lila could see the tension in his shoulders as Coach Wilson lazily went over the rules of detention from his desk chair. He proceeded to play the clip of Captain America lecturing the kids in detention, but Lila could tell Peter wasn’t taking in a word of it. She was considering shooting him a text when suddenly he shot up and grabbed his backpack. He marched out of the room without another word.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lila made the decision to go after him. She told Michelle she’d be right back and hurried after her friend. When she caught up to him, he’d reached the row of lockers where he hid things and lifted it one-handed. Despite her worry, Lila watched him in awe, having to take a second to adjust to the fact that he did actually have super strength.

When the moment ended, her sense caught up to her. “Peter!” She called out, jogging the rest of the way up to him. He turned, impatience dotting across his features. “You can’t go.”

“Lila, I don’t have time-“

“But you do,” She insisted. “Y-You do have time. You can’t just - just leave.”

“Yes, I can,” Peter actually rolled his eyes. It stung Lila more than she thought it would. “Look, you don’t understand, I’ve gotta do this for Mr. Stark. Now, I’ve really gotta go.”

He tried to turn away, but in a bold move, Lila grabbed his arm, “T-Tony Stark is a c-certified genius, and even he stayed in school. Why can’t you?”

“Because when the Avengers move upstate, I’ve gotta be there. The best school I could have would be by learning from him. Who knows, maybe - maybe I’ll get a tutor or something-“

“P-Peter, you’re chasing a-approval from someone who already gave it to you. I mean - look at what y-you’ve already done. The whole school’s b-been talking about it for the entire w-week.”

“Lila,” irritation at still being in school was what made Peter grow short. Lila flinched at the tone. “You don’t get it. I can do so much more if he could just see it, that’s why I’ve gotta go.”

“You do so much, Peter. You - you saved my life twice-“

Peter snapped, “Lila, stop. I’ve made up my mind. I can’t just be Peter Parker anymore, you know? I finally have a chance to prove that I’m so much more than just a nobody now. Because while that might be fine for you, it’s not for me.” The words left his mouth harsh and bitter before his mind could even keep up. Peter didn’t even realize what he’d said until he watched Lila take a step back.

White hot anger burned her skin and flushed her face. Hurt came quickly after, and Lila blinked furiously to stop the tears from rushing to the surface. She released a short breath and made eye contact with Peter. He felt bad, she could tell, but he didn’t offer any kind of apology.

So much for being friends.

“You w-wonder what that life is like, Peter? Being an - an Avenger?” Her voice was quiet, more quiet than normal, but the emotion seemed to amplify it down the empty hallways. “I’ll t-tell you. It’s staring d-down at people who are dead for the sole r-reason that pure evil just likes it that way. It’s being unable to s-save the people you love most, and l-living with that when all is said and - and done.”

“Lila, I-“

She angrily brushed the lone tear away that managed to escape. “You wanna hear wh-what I think? I think that if - if Tony Stark wanted you to b-be like him, he would’ve given you an I-Iron Man suit. Instead he gave you the Spider-Man suit. But what do I know, r-right? I’m just a nobody.” She gave Peter, the boy who broke her heart, one last look. “Good luck out there.”

And she turned around, walking away from Peter Parker with a few tears falling down her face.

#peter parker #spider-man #tom holland #mcu x ofc #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #spiderman x ofc #spiderman homecoming #spiderman #peter parker x ofc #marvel

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shutupandshipit · 4 years

Text

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.10

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Chapter: 10/20

Previously <- Chapter 9: Refills

Chapter 11: Solo -> Next

Chapter 10: Alpha Wanted

Katsuki skidded to a stop, chest heaving as he leaned against the wall. Ever since he’d broken off his partnership with Izuku, he’d been pushing himself to the very edge of his abilities and sometimes further. When no one was around, when he was completely alone on the ice, he would sometimes go until he was forcing himself not to puke as his body heaved. Sometimes he did puke, and he would spend thirty minutes cleaning up the mess before trudging home.

He knew he wasn’t taking the end of their partnership well, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop running himself into the ground.

Lifting his head, his eyes met Izuku’s across the ice.

Izuku was huddled in the middle of the bleachers, his new partner seated at his side and the rest of the alphas on the team that were in their age group surrounding him. They chattered on and on, looking to Izuku for approval, but even when he just smiled nervously at them, they continued on as if he’d given an actual answer.

Anger seethed in Katsuki's chest. He hated it, hated seeing him surrounded by alphas all grinning and preening like a flock of ugly peacocks. Hated the uncomfortable smile that Izuku always wore nowadays. Hated glancing over to check on him and already finding Izuku’s eyes on him.

Most of all, he hated the way the other alphas had treated Izuku like he was a prize to be won as soon as they were no longer a pair anymore. Hated the way they treated him like he was suddenly fair game.

Katsuki shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d known they’d just been waiting for the right moment, waiting for him to fuck up, waiting for him to let Izuku just the barest inch out of his reach. As soon as they’d presented, Izuku had become coveted among the alphas. The rare male omega. Somehow, it made him ten times more desirable to the others on the team. As if his secondary gender erased everything they’d never liked about him.

When Katsuki had been his partner, the others hadn’t dared to make the attempt to court him. They’d rightly assumed that he’d had fully intended to court Izuku, but he’d been planning on beginning their courtship once they were at least in high school. Just his presence and scent on Izuku had marked him as off limits, and that had been enough to begin with.

Katsuki scowled, watching Izuku’s cheeks grow red and his green eyes drop, and then as he startled back away from a touch to his knee. Stubbornly, he turned and ignored the quick glance back up at him. He wasn’t Izuku’s partner, wasn’t going to be his mate, wasn’t anything to him anymore.

…..

Katsuki groaned out his frustration, dragging his hands down his face as Izuku hit the ice for the tenth time that night. Even during team practice, Izuku hadn’t been able to land a single jump. The concentration on his face was severe, but something was clearly taking up all of the space in that curly head of his. “What the fuck is going on, Deku? You haven’t flubbed this many jumps since we were fucking five. What gives?” Katsuki asked, gliding over to Izuku and jerking him back to his feet.

Izuku’s jaw worked back and forth, brow furrowed and eyes downcast. “I’ve just… got something on my mind. I don’t want to talk about it.” His tone was low and dark, and he pushed away towards the wall as he rubbed at his backside. Sliding on his guards, he stepped off the ice.

If Katsuki hadn’t been so taken aback by the warning note in Izuku’s voice, it wouldn’t have taken him so long to realize his partner was pulling off his skates. “What are you doing? We’ve still got another hour before the janitors kick us out. We’re not done yet.”

Izuku didn’t lift his head as he pulled his shower bag from his duffle, something he only ever brought when he had somewhere else to be after practice. The tops of his ears were blush red and his voice was soft and cautious when he glanced up to say, “I, uh, have to get ready…”

“For?” Katsuki prompted irately.

“A date.”

Katsuki’s heart stuttered to a stop in his chest. His alpha whined pitifully, and he just barely managed to keep the sound in. “Whatever,” he muttered instead, grabbing his phone and headphones from the wall before pushing back out to center ice. He stood there pretending to scroll through his music until he heard the double doors slam closed.

Turning back to the benches, Katsuki slipped on his guards and headed for his bag. Inside, he’d nestled the softest faux fur lined blanket that one of his student’s mothers had gifted him. ‘You young alphas never think of nesting materials for that special someone in your life,’ she’d told him as she’d pushed it into his arms. She’d been right, of course, but only because Katsuki had thought it was too early to be thinking about nesting. Nesting materials implied Katsuki wanted to share Izuku’s heat with him, and while that was certainly the case, he didn’t want to push too hard. Izuku didn’t even know that Katsuki was trying to court him yet.

Still, he’d been grateful and even considered offering the gift face to face, but now…

‘Gift to omega. Maybe… Maybe…’ Even his alpha was at a loss with the situation. Still, they both came to the same agreement. ‘Give omega gift. Cannot hurt. Alpha is only one courting omega. Give gift. Maybe make things better.’

Lifting the tissue paper covered blanket from his bag, he nestled it beneath all of Izuku’s other things and just hoped the omega would be tot out of it to notice it right away.

He sat down heavily on the bench between their bags, and stripped off his skates. Once he’d cleaned them, and given Izuku’s the same treatment, he shouldered his bag and left.

…..

“Deku?” Uraraka’s voice was sleepy and confused when she answered his call.

Pulling his phone away from his ear, he checked the time. 23:48 stared accusingly up at him, and he took a page from Katsuki’s book to quietly curse under his breath. “I’m sorry, Chako, I didn’t realize how late it was. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Even to his own ears, his voice didn’t sound right, and he could hear when the red flag shot up for her as she started to rustle around on the other end.

She yawned. “No, no, it’s fine. I wasn’t really sleeping at all. What’s up?” she lied, all chipper brightness. After a moment, she added, “How was the date?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it sounded like a flat lie. His voice broke as he said, “It was fine.”

“Deku?”

The tears were on his cheeks in an instant, cutting hot tracks across his cold skin.

The date hadn’t been fine. Well, from an outside perspective, he was sure it appeared as if things had gone swimmingly. The alpha had been perfectly civil and attentive, asking him questions about himself and more in depth questions about the topics he was interested in. He asked all the right questions too and some funny ones that made Izuku snort. What was he looking for in an alpha? How quickly was he expecting the relationship to progress? Did he want pups one day? Did he prefer cats or dogs or ferrets? What were his goals in life? What was his favorite flavor of ice cream? What was his favorite flower? Did he expect them to share their cycles together right away? If he had pups one day, what did he want to name them?

At first, he’d enjoyed his time with the man. Enjoyed looking at him. Enjoyed listening to him. Enjoyed, for the most part, scenting him on the air. Everything had been going just fine, but with each question Izuku had answered, the sick twist of betrayal had grown in his belly. With each question he answered that made the alpha’s scent sour with either disappointment or irritation, Izuku had felt the uneasy anxious energy nestled right beside his omega squirm restlessly.

There had been a moment when he realized he had no longer been answering as honestly as before, when he was tailoring his answers to specifically please the alpha. There had been a desperation in his body that told him he needed to secure this alpha for his heat. If he didn’t, then his next heat would be the most agonizing he’d ever had. That terrified him, but also made him angry.

Then the man had said, “I’ll be honest here, if this ever progressed to the point that we had pups, I would want you to stop competing so we could focus on our family. You seem to really enjoy skating-” He didn’t just ‘enjoy’ figure skating, he loved it. It was his life blood. If that was taken from him… “-but once you had a pup, that would all change. I just know it. And you wouldn’t want to risk getting hurt again. Your hips and legs need to be strong to carry, you know.”

That had solidified his resolve to end things before they even got started. No amount of fear was worth giving up the thing he loved most.

Izuku had smiled pleasantly even as that oh so familiar black tar had filled his chest and drowned his omega. “I appreciate your honesty.” Standing, he’d held out a hand even as confusion and anger began to morph that alpha’s handsome face. Even as his instincts told him to do something to make that look go away. Even as his omega urged him to fix things before it was too late.

Despite that, relief had flooded his body. Clutching his gloves in his hand, he hadn’t been able to stop from thinking of the alpha who’d taken so much care to get the size perfect and wishing he knew who they were. Wishing they were Katsuki. Then his omega had reminded him of the nesting blanket he’d found at the bottom of his bag, and knew that the date had been the worst idea his friends could have come up with.

“So, I’ll be honest as well. This isn’t going to work out. I accepted our offer because I need an alpha to spend my next heat with. This is what my friends and doctors suggested, but I’ll never be able to give you what you want if that’s me being a stay at home omega.”

The alpha had stared at his hand. The anger smoothed away as he glanced down to the hand holding the gloves. “I think there’s something else too. You don’t have to take a roundabout way to say you have someone else in mind.” After a long moment, he’d stood and shaken Izuku’s hand. “They’re a lucky alpha, whoever they are. Thanks for the conversation. It was nice. Friends?”

On the way home, he’d closed the accounts Uraraka and the other omegas had set up for him and deleted the dating and heat aid apps they’d downloaded to his device.

He relayed the whole story to Uraraka in gruesome detail, but he wasn’t sure how much was understandable through his sobbing.

Several hiccuping sobs later, Uraraka sighed. “Take a shower, Deku. I’m going to get some things, and then I’m coming over. No arguments. See you in thirty, okay?” Her voice was gentle, soft, and Izuku caved.

Hanging up, he focused on her suggestion and thanked the world she was his best friend. He was far more thankful for her suggestion when he caught the scent of the alpha still on his close, cedar and cinnamon. Not a bad scent by any means, but he still ripped his clothes off and stuffed them at the bottom of the washing machine.

He couldn’t tell if the scent had stuck to his skin or hair, but he hated the mere thought. He scrubbed until his scalp tingled and his skin was pink. The water ran cold over his head. When he got out, he dressed in his baggiest comfort clothes. An oversized sweater that had mistakenly been left in his locker at the rink several years prior and his high school gym sweats. Both had holes along seams and fraying cuffs, but they were warm and large. When he wore them, he felt loved and safe.

Pulling the nesting blanket from his bed where he’d spread it out to air out, he huddled beneath it on the couch with his face pressed into a corner of the cushions.

Uraraka’s arrival was signaled by the turning of her spare key in the lock. Still, he didn’t move, and only knew she’d seen him when she sighed heavily. For several long minutes, she shuffled around the kitchen. Drawers were opened and closed. Glasses clacked against each other. Silverware tinkled against the counter tops. All sounds found their way to the coffee table eventually, and then the couch by Izuku’s head dipped with her weight.

“This is a really nice nesting blanket. Where did you get it?” she asked quietly, fingers curling in the few locks of hair that stuck out from beneath the edge of the blanket.

Izuku allowed his head to be lifted into her lap, and pressed forward into the soft yet firm warmth of her stomach. “Was left in my bag. Don’t know who it's from.”

Uraraka stayed quiet, pushing back the blanket to run her fingers through his hair. Eventually, she said, “It smells like Bakugou.”

He stiffened. “Don’t.”

Her hand paused. “Don’t what?”

Izuku pulled away from her, huddling against the opposite side of the couch. “Don’t say stuff like that,” he whispered tiredly and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch, “You know how I feel about him. Don’t give me false hope like that. It’s not worth the heartache at the end of it all.”

“I don’t know how false it is.” Turning to face him completely, Izuku could see just how fierce her expression was out of the corner of his eye. “This is the second thing that’s turned up in your bag smelling like him. He’s given you three things before this, that headband, his gloves and his hat. Is it really that far out of the realm of possibility?”

“Yes, Chako, it is!” Izuku snapped, voice wobbly with tears, “Kaccahn would never want someone as useless as me. Someone who dragged us down and then got hurt. He deserved better than me. I’m just lucky he’s willing to skate with me again.”

Uraraka’s face twisted as if there were more she wanted to say. In the end, she just asked, “Isn’t he the reason the date didn’t go well?” Izuku’s eyes flickered to her, and he was crying all over again. “Oh sweetie, come here.” She opened her arms, and he crawled into them, allowing himself to be held tight.

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #decchan #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #alpha!katsuki #omega!izuku #figure skater au #no quirks au #my writing #sharpen your blades

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mysterioh · 5 years

Text

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 12

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge of art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

A/N: For some reason my taglist didn’t work last time. Some people didn’t get a noti so make sure you read ch. 11. Link in masterlist!!

Masterlist

Best Excercise For The Heart? Getting Chased by Mob.

Peter's heart was beating on another plane of existence.

His palms were sweaty and stomach just a bit queasy. He knew he shouldn't have had such a big breakfast, but it's not like May would let him leave the house without at least three pancakes shoved into his mouth.

Bucky greets Peter by slapping his hand over his shoulder making him jump in surprise.

"Woah, chill out kid," Bucky said with a chuckle.

"Sorry," he shook his head. "I'm just a little nervous."

"I got ya," Bucky replied. "Listen there's nothing to it, you just gotta sit there. The boss is gonna do all the talking. He just wants us there for backup. Natasha can’t make it so you’re gonna take her spot."

"But why does he want me there?" Peter asked curiously, "I'm still new and–"

"The big guy thinks you've got a lot of potential," Bucky explained and Peter's eyes grow wide in shock. The mob king thought he had potential? He smiles in hiding, trying to not let it get to him. Too late. Head full. Pride skyrocketing.

"Truth is, I don't see it," Bucky stated flatly, "but he's weird like that."

"Thanks, you're so nice," Peter replied, mildly sarcastic, but Bucky lets it go just this once. He shakes him with another pat on the back.

"Come on, get in," he pushes him into the office.

Peter takes a seat next to Sam who gives him a friendly smirk. At least he thinks it's friendly. He really can't tell with those two.

Steve enters the room and Peter sits straight up. The kingpin smiles warmly. “You brought the kid.”

“You told us to,” Bucky replied.

“Right,” Steve said as if he forgot. “How’s it goin’ kid? You and your girl doin’ alright?”

“Yes Sir!” he replied quickly. Steve Rogers remembers that he has a girlfriend. Wow, what a nice guy.

“Now listen here,” Sam brought him back to earth. “When the guy comes don’t get all bouncy. Just chill out and relax.”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded.

“And don’t go blabbing random stuff, ya hear?” Bucky reminded him.

“I don’t do that!” he retorted.

“Only talk when spoken too, but never answer if you don’t know what to say,” Sam instructed. “Never show someone else that you’re unsure. Always be confident even when you’re not.”

“Talk but don’t talk,” Peter repeated. “Be confident even when you’re not. That doesn’t make any sense!”

“It makes perfect sense,” Bucky retorted. “You’re just stupid.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Don’t mess this up, kid or your ass is grass,” Sam warned, earning a loud, guttural groan from Peter.

Steve chuckled. “Listen, Pete, just go with your gut, ya hear? Just go with what you know, alright?”

“Yes, Sir!” He nodded like a child.

A knock came at the door and opened.

“Mr. Rogers,” the secretary popped her head through the door. “Mr. Rumlow is here.”

“Let him in,” Steve waved towards him. She opens the door wider and Brock Rumlow enters. Peter observes him. A scar running across his left cheek with beady black eyes that just screamed sneaky. Not even a word and the boy already knew he couldn’t be trusted.

"Mr. Rogers," Rumlow greeted, extending his hand.

"Mr. Rumlow," Steve shook his hand, "Just call me Steve."

"So the rumors are true, you're an easy man to talk to."

"I just hate the formality and if we can," Steve stated, "let's finish this quick."

"Of course, I know you're a busy man." Rumlow smiles, taking a seat in front of him. "What I'm here for. What I want from you is help," he said. "I need money, investment money. I need three million dollars in cash," he explained further.

Peter's eyes widened. He spoke as if it was a small amount and Steve looked at him with utter nonchalance as if he's just asking for spare change.

"And what else?" Steve question, hooking his leg over the other, tapping the ash off of his cigarette.

"I need connections and you have very powerful friends," Rumlow continued. "I need those politicians you keep in your back pocket."

"And what's in it for us?"

"Forty percent," Rumlow stated. "And by the end of the year you'll be raking in around eight to ten million," he estimated.

"And the Lucchese?"

Rumlow chuckles. "I'll take care of them from my own share."

Steve ponders on the information for a bit. His expression was hard to read, leaving the rest in the room waiting in anticipation of his decision. He sat relaxed in his chair, not slumped, but confident and nonchalant.

"So, I get forty percent for finance, political influence, and legal protection?" He points out, extending his fingers as the list goes.

"That's right." Rumlow nodded.

"Why me though?" Steve questioned with a shake of the hand. "Why do I deserve all this generosity?"

Rumlow scoffs. "If three to four million is a small price for you, kingpin, then cheers to you."

Steve's eyes look at him sharply, then he smiles. To Peter, it's more dangerous than friendly.

"I've heard you're a businessman," Steve reminded him, burning out his cigarette in an ashtray. "A serious man needed to be treated with respect."

Rumlow's cocky smile falls and twists into a subtle scowl.

"The thing is I've been looking into this new drug you're proposing. This is nasty stuff worse than any other drug on the market as of now," Steve criticized and Rumlow wasn't pleased.

"Now let's just say this stuff hits it big. Bigger than crack and weed, which it probably will," he stood up and paced the office. "Those crackheads will take anything that gets 'em off for a good ten minutes. But let's just say hypothetically, it gets stuck in the hands of a policeman or even worse—a kid, and he gets caught smoking or even worse dead with that crap. That causes a major issue for me," he points at himself while standing in front of Rumlow.

Rumlow looks up at him and it's like he already knows the answer.

"Yeah, I've got a lot of friends, but I don't think the mayor would be so friendly if he knew I was caught up in this stuff," Steve remarked. "That thing you got is nasty."

"Mr. Rogers," he retorted firmly.

"Listen, I don't care what a man does for a living," Steve cut him off. "I mean look at me. But your business is a bit dangerous."

"If you're worried about your investment. The Lucchese will take care of it." Rumlow assured.

Steve shakes his head with a laugh. The Lucchese were going to insure him? What was he some second rate gangster?

"My answer is final, Mr. Rumlow. It's a no." Steve stated firmly. "Good luck with your business. I know you'll do very well and I wish you all the best. As best as your interests don't conflict with mine." He wished him with a warning in his tone.

Rumlow stands up with a scornful smile. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Rogers," he shook his hand. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," Steve said, placing his hand over their hands and giving it a final good shake. "Buck, please see Mr. Rumlow to the door."

"No, no," he replied. "That won't be necessary. I can find it myself," he nods and leaves the room. “Not like I found much help here anyway.”

"Hey, Pete," Steve said, he points his head towards the door, "follow him out from a distance."

Peter nodded, dashing for the door.

"You think we did the right thing?" Bucky asked, leaning against the desk.

"We can't risk our connections, Buck," Steve said, lighting another stick. "Besides, me? Insured by the Lucchese? Get the fuck outta here," Steve remarked, a chuckle coloring his words making the two erupt in laughter, filling the room with a lighter air.

"You know you don't have to walk me to the bus stop anymore." You said, walking out of the restaurant. "It's only a block away."

A sudden blow of wind rushes past, making you snuggle into the wool scarf wrapped around your neck. You dig your hands deeper into your pockets and look over at Steve to find him unphased by the freezing temperatures of January. Freak.

"I take my job as your bodyguard very seriously." He replied.

"You're not my bodyguard. I don't need a man to protect me." You retorted defiantly.

"Woah there, Susan B. Anthony," Steve put his hands up in surrender, "I was just saying. Don't get all feminist on me."

"And what's wrong with being feminist?" You jabbed.

"Nothing. I love women. All of them. They're amazing. Absolutely wonderful," he complimented. "But not in a creepy way. More of a respectful and cool kinda way."

"Just stop talking, you're making my head spin," you sighed, shaking your head.

"You're so dramatic," he nudged you with his shoulder.

"You're the dramatic one," you pointed out.

"Am not," he retorted.

"Are you joking me right now?" You asked incredulously. "Oh heavens no, she doesn't speak the language of arts whatever shall I do?" You acted breathlessly desperate. Steve rolled his eyes and kept walking.

"How can someone be so simpleminded? I guess I'll just die right here." You fainted against his shoulder with your hand on your forehead and a dramatic sigh.

He pushes you off of him, secretly liking how open you're being with him.

"Ha ha ha, you're hilarious," Steve deadpanned.

"Thanks, I know," you replied boastfully. He snorts, looking away so you wouldn't see him smiling.

He failed. It was hard to miss that pretty smile of his. I didn't mean that. It was a completely objective observation.

Even if you told him not to walk you to the bus stop, you had to admit you enjoyed his company. Your cold cheeks were brushed with a numbing red, but the rest of you was warm. You didn't say a word the rest of the way there, just listened and watched.

You quietly listened to the distant drone of traffic, watched the lights of houses flip on and off. Cool steam rose from the sewer holes and swept along the asphalt of the street. There's not a soul in sight and what sane person would want to be out on a cold night like this? Your footsteps grew gradually slower not really in a hurry to get anywhere. Like they're trying to make the journey last as long as it can.

You don't know why, but the air feels tense. Heavy with something you can't really find a name for, but something you knew all too well. You pull your sweaty hands out of your pockets, stretching them to get some air through the cracks.

Steve watches his footsteps and how they're in sync with yours. He feels more at peace here with you than he's felt in the past week. You're like a remedy to all his problems.

When he's with you, the pressures of the mob slowly fade away. The burden of working over a hundred men and maintaining his power disappears for just a moment of time. When he's with you, he's not the kingpin, he's just Steve. Just a normal guy. You've never really seen him as anything else and he hopes it'll stay like that forever.

"That's strange," you said, checking your phone for the time while approaching the bus stop. "The bus is usually here by now."

"Maybe it's just a few minutes late?"

"Maybe."

The two of you waited for the bus patiently. Ten minutes had passed and the bus was nowhere to be seen. You looked from side to side to check the street and your eyes fell onto the car standing right across you. It was black with tinted windows. You recalled seeing the same exact car outside the restaurant and that part of your brain stuffed with crime shows is finally starting to crank its gears.

The car was off and there was a good chance that no one was inside, but you were never one to believe in coincidences.

"Steve," you said making sure not to look at the car again.

"Yeah?" He asked and from his face, you think he's already noticed.

"I might be crazy but I feel like I've seen the car across the street," you said, calmly. "At the restaurant."

"So have I," he nodded with a smile as if he's just having a casual conversation.

"Then what do we do?" You asked, shrugging.

"Let's just walk," he replied, pulling you along with him.

You walked down the sidewalk side by side and while your expression was calm, your insides were a frantic mess.

The quick rhythmic beat of your steps against the cracked sidewalks wasn't the only thing breaking the deafening silence of the street as the sound of car doors slamming and burly footsteps shuffled behind you slowly.

Your fingers intertwined with Steve's instinctively and he squeezes your hand tight. You look at him, heart thumping and thoughts racing.

"Hey, baby, don't worry, I got you." He gave you an amused smile, masking his own fear.

This isn't the first time something like this has happened, or the second, or the third. It's happened many times just not with an innocent civilian by his side. He had a knack for being a bit reckless but with you here he couldn't take that risk. Your safety was his top priority.

You pouted with a huff. "Don't call me, baby," you warned, your strides growing wider to match his.

"At the corner, we make a run for it," he ordered.

You nodded, taking silent, deep breaths to calm your speeding heart. You didn't dare to take a look behind in fear of what you'd see. Not like you needed to see anything. The sound of their footsteps was enough to know that something was wrong, slow and anxiously needy. Each step towards the end of the street gets heavier. The ones behind getting dangerously closer.

Steve pulls on your hand as he makes a sharp turn at the bend, dragging you behind him like a kite in the wind. You don't even know how you're keeping up with him at this point. It's just one foot in front of the other powered by an extraordinary rush of adrenaline.

You can hear the baying howls of the men behind you, ordering you to stop as if you're actually going to do that.

Steve's death grip on your hand is the only thing that keeps you anchored to the real world. Your thoughts are blank and all you can think of how you're possibly going to get out of this.

There are two of you against at least five of them.

Scratch that. More like one and a half against five.

You're screwed. This was where you died and you didn't even get to graduate from college yet.

Steve takes a sharp left at the corner and squeezes you into a tight alleyway between two buildings.

You put your hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your breathing. Heavy footsteps draw nearer and continue past the alleyway until they fade into the distance. Your hand drops to your side allowing you to take free breaths of fresh air.

"You okay?" Steve asked, catching his own breath.

You look up at him and nodded. "Yeah."

The alleyway was narrow, very narrow, and the two of you were pressed against each other with only enough wiggle room for one to move.

Steve's cheeks redden by the way your body is pressed against his in all the right places. Sure he's imagined it before, but not exactly like this. He looks at everything but you, so he doesn’t lose himself.

He's not alone in his embarrassment as you start to heat up despite the frigid temperatures of a midwinter's night.

"D-do you–um–do you think they're gone?" You whispered.

He shrugs unknowingly. You squeeze past him just enough to stick your head out. You look to the left then to right.

"I think the coast is clear," you said, getting out of the tight spot. Steve follows suit and pats the dust off his clothes.

"Well that was something," he chuckles nervously.

You place your hands on your hips with a judgemental look. "You've got a lot of explaining to do."

Steve scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

In the distance, the shrill screeching of wheels blares in the night with a blinding light coming in your direction.

You should run, but your legs feel like mush and getting caught sounded better than running right now. Steve covers you with himself as the car slows just in front of you.

The window rolls down to reveal a cheeky Bucky.

Steve groans for the whole neighborhood to hear. "For fuck's sake, Buck, you scared the shit out of me."

You peek out from behind him to find Bucky. His eyes meet yours and he smirks devilishly.

"Sorry, big boss, been lookin' everywhere for you," he gets out of the car with a chuckle. "And of course I'd find you canoodling with ya girl."

"I am no one's girl," you stated firmly, jumping out from behind.

"Right. We're not there yet," Bucky replied and Steve might just snap his neck if he keeps talking. "Anyways my name's Bucky, I'm an old friend of Stevie's. Nice to finally meet ya," he extends his hand. You shake it warily. "That's Sam," he points at the man standing against the car behind him and I guess you already know Pete."

"Hi, Y/N!" Peter waves, falling out of the back window with a gummy smile on his face.

You gasp at the sight of the curly-haired boy. You run up to him at the window.

"Peter! What are you doing here?" You questioned. "Do you know what time it is? Go home to your girlfriend!"

"I wish." Peter sighed sadly, arms dangling out of the car. "But I can't, I'm on night duty."

"Listen," Bucky directed towards Steve, "we got some trouble down at the dock in the Bronx. We think it's Rumlow."

Steve mutters a curse underneath his breath.

"I guess he's the same bastard that tried to kill me like five minutes ago," he cursed. "Can't take no for an answer."

"Who's Rumlow? And why is he trying to kill you?" You asked, eyes solely on Steve, questioning his every gesture.

Steve sighed, not really wanting you to get involved in all of this. He knew it'd happen someday, but not this fast.

"I think it's best if we not talk about this out in the open," Sam advised. "So get in the car."

"Best idea you've had all day, Sammy," Bucky noted opening his door.

"Shut up."

Peter opens the door and scoots over to let you in and you have no choice but to go in. After what just happened, there's no way you're walking home alone.

Steve sits right next to you and closes the door behind him, signaling Sam to drive. It's kind of awkward being stuck in a car with a bunch of mobsters, but beggars can't be choosers. At least you know they won't kill you.

"Nat's already at the house," Bucky told Steve. "She's the one who found out about the whole mixup in the Bronx."

Steve nodded with a cautious look in his eye. Bucky knew exactly what he was saying without him even saying a word.

"Not in front of her."

"So where exactly are we going?" You asked.

"My place," Steve replied.

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought.

"If it's not a problem can you just drop me home?"

"I could but then I'd be worried about you all night," Steve said and it goes straight to the tips of your ears. It shouldn't have. The three snickered at Steve, but he ignored them. "Stay over my place for the night?"

“What? No, I can’t.” you denied. "I don’t even think they saw me,” you noted. “So it’ll be fine.”

“You sure about that sis?" Sam asked with a chuckle. "The mob ain’t as simple as it sounds. They’re probably already trying to figure out who you are.”

“Stop scaring her," Steve warned.

“I’m not scared.” you retorted. “I just don’t wanna intrude.”

“Or get involved," Bucky added.

“Maybe that too. So just drop me off please? I’ve got class in the morning.”

“Sorry, I can’t let that happen," Steve shakes his head in denial. "After what happened tonight who knows what’s gonna happen? I mean they could be trailing us for all we know. You really want those goons knowing where you live?”

“No," you whispered. You didn't think about it like that.

“Then just for tonight, okay?" He places his hand on top of yours and it feels nice, but not enough for you to accept. "I’ll drop you off first thing in the morning.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky turned towards you from the front. “Stevie’s got a really nice place. With big fancy iron gates and a giant fountain. Never-ending fridge. The whole shebang."

Steve rolls his eyes. Sometimes he questioned why he even knew Bucky.

"Besides you'll love Lucky," Sam pointed out.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "Lucky? Who's Lucky?"

"It's the boss's dog," Peter answered.

Your jaw goes slack in shock. "YOU HAVE A DOG?"

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly.

"WHAT KIND?" You questioned shaking his arm violently, "HOW OLD?"

"It's a Samoyed and two." He replied, pushed up against the door by the way you're bouncing on the seat.

"Okay let's go to your place," you agreed. Steve chuckles with a shake of the head. "Hey, Sam right?"

"Yeah?"

"No offense man, but can you drive any faster?" You questioned.

"I don't want a speeding ticket," Sam confessed.

You look at him incredulously.

"The Brooklyn Mob is just a bunch of twinks," you jeered.

"Hey!" Steve exclaimed.

"And you're the biggest one."

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#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #mob!steve #mob!steve rogers x reader #mobster steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers x you #mob au #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff

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tomhiddlestonfanfic · 4 years

Text

A Step Too Far? Chapter Ten Merely a Setback

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 - Ch. 9 - Ch. 10 - Ch. 11

TITLE: A Step Too Far? NUMBER OF CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: 10/? WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Stepfather Tom OTHER CHARACTERS: Benedict Cumberbatch, Andrew Scott PAIRING: Tom/OFC, Benedict Cumberbatch/OFC GENRE: Drama, Hurt/Comfort

CHAPTER TEN Merely a Setback

For the first time since she started working at the office, Nina called in sick. Tom looked at her concernedly and took her temperature before he had to head off to work. She didn't have a fever and there was nothing physically wrong with her, she was just feeling like she couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed. The guilt was like a much too heavy weighted blanket over her.

Her mother came inside her room several times throughout the day, expressing her worry and trying to get her to eat or drink something. She even brought up one of Nina’s energy drinks from downstairs in hopes of getting her to ingest at least something other than some water along with her medications. But Nina just remained in bed all day, trying to sleep as much as possible. It was not a good day, and she just wanted it to be over.

When Tom came home from work, he had a colourful flower bouquet with him from Stina. There was a little card on it reading ‘Get well soon. Love, Stina.’

“I’ll put those in a vase for you,” Helena told her with a smile and soon came back with the flowers placed in an old vase that she had always been very careful with and only brought forward on special occasions.

“But that’s grandmother’s old vase, what if I break it?” Nina objected as her mother smilingly put down the antique vase on her bedside table.

“Darling, I want you to have it. That’s why I’ve been so careful with it all those years. Last I checked you are no longer throwing bouncing balls around the house, so you have nothing to worry about,” Helena assured her. Nina smiled briefly at the mention of bouncing balls. It had been a subject of discussion when she was a child not to throw bouncing balls around the house.

“Good old times,” Nina reminisced. “I believe I might still have some left somewhere. I’ll save them for Will for when he’s old enough.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” her mother laughed and gently caressed her cheek. “It’s good to see you smile. Maybe you’ve just had an off day. Should we try turning it around?” she suggested.

“Okay,” Nina agreed and climbed out of bed. She went downstairs to hang out with Tom and the baby as her mother cooked dinner.

“Are you feeling any better?” Tom asked as she slumped down next to him on the sofa. He handed over the baby to her and the two siblings cuddled. He was barely awake and smiled one of his toothless smiles that made her heart melt.

“I love him so much,” Nina said, avoiding his question.

“So do I. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Tom told her sincerely.

“He’s the best thing that ever happened to me too. I want to see him grow up,” Nina said emotionally. She did want to see what kind of person her little brother would grow up to be, and she couldn’t do that if she decided to end her own life.

“It’s going to be amazing. We have so much to look forward to as a family,” Tom told her with a warm smile. “I’ll probably regret saying this, but I can’t wait until he gets old enough for you to teach him pranks. He’s going to love it.”

They continued to talk about the future, and Nina felt a sting of bad consciousness for having considered giving all of that up in a particularly dark moment.

“You know I’m here if you need to talk, right? About anything at all,” Tom told her earnestly and she smiled gratefully at him. “I’ve noticed that there’s been something weighing you down lately. I wish you would talk to someone about it.”

“You want me to see a psychologist,” Nina concluded.

“I’ve been recommended one. He’s english speaking, but you don’t mind that, do you?” Tom asked.

“Who recommended him and why?” Nina asked suspiciously.

“Andrew mentioned that he and Josef had seen a therapist, and that he strongly would recommend him if me or anyone I knew needed someone to talk to,” Tom explained. Nina nodded in response. During one of their numerous chats over the phone, Josef had actually mentioned that he and Andrew were seeing a couples therapist.

“Okay, I suppose I could give it a shot,” Nina agreed with a shrug. Perhaps she could come clean about her troubles to a therapist. It couldn’t hurt to try, now could it?

“Really?” Tom asked, seemingly expecting some more resistance from her. “I’ll call him right away,” he said, picking up his phone.

Tom left the room for some privacy and came back a couple of minutes later with a smile on his face. “He could see you tomorrow at nine,” he informed her.

“That’s early,” Nina sighed, having planned to sleep most of the day away.

“I take it you’re not planning on coming to work tomorrow either,” Tom assumed and looked at her thoughtfully.

“I still have a stomach ache,” Nina insisted and refocused her attention to her little brother. “Who’s a cute baby boy? You are. Oh, yes, you are.”

“I’ll make sure someone drives you there if I can’t do it myself. He has a home office and it’s a bit far to walk if you get there by bus,” Tom informed her. Nina didn’t have a driver’s license, so she couldn’t drive there herself, and her mother would rather not drive at all if she could avoid it.

“Okay, thanks,” Nina replied and smiled appreciatively at him. She felt both nervous and good about seeing a therapist, now that she had a real dilemma to talk about. In her earlier experiences with therapy, she had found it hard to put into words what exactly was wrong in her life. She had so many reasons to be happy and grateful, yet she wasn’t. Now she had something more substantial to talk about.

The next morning, Nina was woken up by her mother who told her to get dressed quickly so she wouldn’t be late for her therapy. Tom was outside in his car waiting for her. Newly awakened and confused, Nina quickly cleaned herself up in the bathroom before throwing some clothes on. She didn’t have time to apply any makeup or even brush her hair.

“Here, put your hair up,” her mother advised and handed her a hair elastic once she got downstairs. Nina put her hair up in a sloppy bun on her head and went to the fridge to grab an energy drink. “Perhaps he could hypnotise you into stop drinking those,” her mother told her humorously. Nina snorted at her mother’s comment before hurriedly heading out the door.

“Are you good to go?” Tom asked her and started the car. Nina nodded and grimaced slightly as she looked at herself in the rearview mirror. She didn’t like how she was looking without makeup on.

“I look like shit,” she muttered to herself.

“You look beautiful, as always,” Tom assured her. The drive to the therapist’s office went by rather quickly. “I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up,” Tom informed her before she reluctantly got out of the car.

Nina felt nervous as she slowly walked up to the house with the energy drink in her hand. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves before ringing the doorbell. She instantly regretted not putting on any makeup the moment she saw the handsome man who opened the door. He was surprisingly muscular for a therapist and quite tall, his hair was dark, his eyes greyish blue and he had a friendly smile on his perfectly chiseled face.

“You must be Nina,” the man greeted her and held out his hand towards her. She blushed as she moved the energy drink from her right hand to her left in order to shake his hand. “I’m Henry.”

“Hej, hi,” Nina mumbled awkwardly in response. Why did he have to be so excruciatingly hot? “I’m sorry I look like a disaster, I forgot to set an alarm,” she apologised once she noticed how nicely dressed he was in a blue checkered shirt, black tie, brown jacket and matching pants.

“You don’t need to apologise about your appearance,” Henry assured her and showed her to his office down the hall. “This way.”

Nina seated herself on the sofa and placed her energy drink on the coffee table as she watched Henry take the seat in the armchair opposite to her. “I can see that you already have something to drink,” he noted and motioned towards the energy drink on the table as he picked up the notepad and a pen from the coffee table. Nina nodded wordlessly and looked around the office which was decorated with dark wooden furniture and had a homey feel to it. It was a vast contrast to the mostly white and sterile therapist’s offices she had visited before.

“So Nina, would you like to tell me about what brings you here today?” Henry said and Nina sighed softly.

“I don’t know,” she replied, unsure if she was willing to tell him the truth about how much she had messed up her life lately. When the therapist looked at her thoughtfully through his black rimmed glasses, Nina added; “My mom and my stepfather thought I should go see a therapist, and someone recommended you.”

“I see,” the therapist replied. “So are you here only because your mother and stepfather wanted you to come here?” he wondered.

“That’s partly why,” Nina replied and searched her mind for what to say next. “I haven’t been feeling so good lately.”

“Would you like to elaborate what you mean when you say that you’ve not been feeling so good?” Henry requested as he looked at her with interest.

“Well, I’ve been feeling bad a lot lately… like, I’ve felt guilty and ashamed. I feel like I’m a horrible person.”

“Those are very difficult feelings to have,” Henry told her empathically. “Do you think those feelings are justified or may they be blown out of proportion?” he asked her as he took down some notes on his notepad.

“I think they are justified,” Nina admitted embarrassedly. “I wish they weren’t, but they are.”

“And why is that?” Henry questioned and looked at her inquiringly. She felt as though he was looking straight into her soul and instantly broke eye contact with him. She picked up her energy drink from the table and took a sip before putting it back down again. “I notice that my question is making you uncomfortable, so I’ll ask you about some other things instead. How would you describe your relationship with your mother?”

“It’s alright I guess. We’ve always been pretty close, but I don’t feel like I can tell her everything, because I don’t want to make her worried. Especially now that she has to take care of my little brother. He’s only three weeks old,” Nina told him.

“Congratulations on getting a baby brother. What’s his name?” the therapist asked.

“Thanks. His name is William,” Nina said with a smile. “I was with them in the delivery room when he was born. It was the most powerful moment of my life.”

As they continued to talk about her family and her close relationships, Nina came to realise that the one she had been talking to the most about personal things lately was Tom. The hour went by quickly as they mapped out her social relationships and talked about each of the people she mentioned. It was nice, Nina thought to herself as she got herself ready to leave the office. Their chat had made her realise that she wasn’t as alone in the world as she sometimes felt. She had her mother, Tom, Stina, Jim and a whole bunch of other people she could contact if she wanted to go out for a coffee or beer. They decided together that she should take up contact with her father before their next meeting following week.

“How did it go?” Tom asked interestedly once she got in the car with him. Nina smiled at him and shrugged.

“It went well, I suppose. He gave me an assignment,” she told him.

“What was the assignment?” Tom asked curiously.

“That I should take up contact with my father. It’s been months since I last saw him,” Nina explained.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Tom said with a smile. He had always been the bigger person when it came to her father, who seemed to despise Tom for no other reason than that he was Nina’s stepfather and rich.

Nina smiled as she thought about her father who worked in a warehouse and despised the middle and upper class. He had divorced her mother when Nina was ten, but still seemed upset and jealous when Tom came into the picture when Nina had just turned eighteen. Her father had claimed that her mother only wanted Tom for his money, which she always thought was ridiculous since Tom had never been anything but a gentleman. Her mother would probably have fallen for his charms even if he had been poor.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but when do you think you’ll be back to work?” Tom asked her as they approached their house.

“I suppose I could come back tomorrow,” Nina replied with a shrug.

“Really?” Tom asked, seemingly surprised by her answer.

“Yeah, I think I’m done feeling bad for myself,” she told him and made a slight grimace as she thought about her own behaviour of trying to shut out the rest of the world when what she really wanted was to be a part of it.

When she got home, Nina offered to take baby William out for a walk to let her mother have some rest. Her tired looking mother gratefully accepted the offer and Nina felt a sense of pride as she walked down the street with her little brother in the baby carriage. In the park, she saw other people in various ages playing with their children or walking around with baby carriages and strollers. She smiled to herself as she thought about how some people probably assumed that she was William’s mother. She imagined for a moment what it would be like to have a baby of her own, and that’s when she remembered that she had completely forgotten about the morning-after pill after having sex with Benedict.

With a sense of urgency, Nina went to the closest pharmacy and bought a morning-after pill. The pharmacists smiled at her and baby William, probably assuming that he was hers. Nina smiled proudly as they spoke softly to her little brother. She felt no need to correct anyone who thought he was her child.

When Nina got back home with William, she noticed that Tom’s car was in the driveway. She knew that he would sometimes come home during lunch breaks and smiled as she brought William with her inside.

“There you are,” Tom greeted them smilingly and carefully took the baby from Nina as she kicked off her shoes.

“How did it go? Is he hungry?” Helena asked, walking up to them.

“It went well. He slept most of the time, except for when we were at the pharmacy. He charmed everyone working there,” Nina informed her mother with a smile.

“That’s nice,” her mother replied with a smile as she reached out for her baby. “He’s sucking his hands, I think he’s hungry,” she told Tom who reluctantly handed over his son to her.

“What were you doing at the pharmacy?” Tom asked Nina once her mother had gone into the living room.

“Oh… I bought… caffeine pills,” Nina said slowly, grimacing slightly at how bad she was at coming up with a quick lie. She should never have mentioned the pharmacy.

“You shouldn’t take too much of those things,” Tom warned her, seemingly believing her lie. “You already ingest enough caffeine as it is in your energy drinks,” he said and held out his open hand towards her. “Give them to me.”

“N-no,” Nina huffed and took a step backwards.

“Why not? Are you hiding something?” Tom asked suspiciously. “If it’s ephedrine I-”

“It’s not ephedrine,” Nina sighed and took out the morning-after pill from her pocket. “Damn it, Tom,” she muttered.

“Oh,” Tom uttered once he saw what it was and blushed slightly. “I’m proud of you for taking responsibility.”

“Mhm,” Nina muttered and walked past him into the kitchen, where she grabbed an energy drink from the fridge to swallow down the morning-after pill with.

“I’m sorry for accusing you of taking ephedrine again,” Tom told her regretfully. “I just really care about you.”

“But you’ll throw me out if I start taking them again, how’s that caring?” Nina questioned irritably.

“I wouldn’t throw you out to live on the streets, but I would make sure to get you into rehab if you should need it,” Tom told her seriously. He crossed his arms as he watched her take the pill. “Did Jim come over yesterday?” he asked and Nina stared at him in horror. Was he onto her and Benedict? She frowned slightly as she shook her head. She had been alone in bed all day yesterday, which Tom would find out if he asked her mother about it.

“I met him on Monday, when I was out on a walk, if you necessarily have to know,” Nina told him brittly.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Tom apologised but kept looking at her inquiringly.

“Did you want to ask about anything else? What position we used perhaps? Or whether we had sex outdoors or not?” Nina questioned impudently.

Tom grimaced in response to her insolence and shook his head at her. “No, I was just thinking about something. Forget about it. It wasn’t about you,” Tom told her uncomfortably. “I brought you some lunch, we’re eating in the living room,” he informed her. Nina looked at him stubbornly. “It’s salad,” Tom added, causing her to smile a little. How could she possibly stay angry with him for being too inquisitive, when he was being so sweet?

Following day, Nina went to work with Tom. She yawned largely and leaned back in the passenger seat of the car with her eyes shut.

“I heard that Benedict shouted at you for misspelling his name,” Tom told her, causing her to open her eyes and look at him. “Does that have something to do with why you didn’t want to come to work?”

“A little bit,” Nina told him with a sigh as she recalled her fictive argument with Benedict.

“Well, I told him not to shout at you again, so you shouldn’t need to worry about that,” Tom assured her, causing her to blush in embarrassment for having caused Benedict trouble for something that didn’t even happen. “I also told him that if you need ‘a talking to’ about something, he should let me or Andrew take care of it.”

“Okay, thanks. You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it,” Nina replied awkwardly, and blushed slightly as she thought about how Andrew’s talking to’s tended to include spankings.

Benedict asked Nina to come to his office once during the day, and to her surprise, he insisted that she should leave the door open as they talked.

“I just wanted to apologise about what happened. I shouldn’t have ‘shouted’ at you,” Benedict said with emphasis on the word shouted. Nina felt like he was really apologizing about what had actually happened between them.

“And I shouldn’t have misspelt your name,” Nina replied with an embarrassed smile as she thought about how she had asked him to fuck her. Benedict grinned widely in response, seemingly relieved and held out his hand towards her.

“Are we good?” he asked and she took his hand and shook it.

“We’re good,” she replied. As long as they could keep things professional they were good, she thought.

The two days at work before the weekend went well. Nina and Benedict had only work-related conversations and she made sure to always keep a distance between them to prevent any physical contact. Benedict obviously noticed, she could tell by his slightly raised eyebrow when she took detours to avoid him as they walked past each other. But he didn’t say anything about it. At some point, he even seemed amused by her efforts to stay away from him.

The weekend came, and Nina had dinner over at her father’s apartment. They ordered food since he didn’t particularly enjoy cooking and watched some TV together. They didn’t talk much, but that was okay because they didn’t need words in order to enjoy each other’s company. After a quiet afternoon in her father’s company, Nina took a long walk home instead of taking the bus. Her father would have given her a ride if he hadn’t had beer with his dinner. He expressed that he felt bad for not driving her home, but she assured him that it was alright. She also told him that Tom usually had wine with dinner during the weekends in order to make him feel better about himself.

“Did you have a good time at your dad’s?” Helena asked Nina once she got back home. Nina nodded in response and gave her mother a hug as tears filled her eyes.

“He seemed so lonely, mom,” Nina confided in her mother. “I should probably visit him more often.”

“I bet he would like that,” her mother encouraged. “But remember that it’s not your responsibility to make sure he’s not alone. He’s a grownup and he can take care of himself.”

“I know,” Nina sighed. “But still. I wish he would be able to spend more time with friends when he’s sober and not only when he’s drunk.”

“Well, we are all different when it comes to those things,” Helena said with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“I know,” Nina said again. They had had this conversation before. “I’ll try to visit him more often. Maybe we could watch a movie next time.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” her mother agreed with a brilliant smile.

The weekend went by quickly. Too quickly for Nina’s liking. It felt like the weekend had just arrived and now it was time for work again.

Ever since their date, Nina and Stina had lunch together on a pretty much daily basis during the work week. A waiter at their most frequented restaurant jokingly referred to them as the twins, since they dressed so similarly and almost always ordered the same kinds of food. Nina very much enjoyed Stina’s company for lunch and was relieved that Stina never once commented on when Nina didn’t finish her food. It was bad enough that Tom and Andrew both seemed to have the habit of monitoring her food and caffeine intake.

As they got back to the office after lunch, the phone rang and Nina smiled as she instantly recognised the voice at the other end. It was Josef.

“Hi, Nina. Do you have time to talk?” he asked and she gladly told him yes. “How are things going with Stina?” he asked curiously.

“It’s pretty good. We have lunch together every day now,” Nina replied as she habitually began sorting the mail.

“Have you decided on having a second date yet?” Josef wondered. Nina frowned slightly as she realised that she hadn’t given it a moment of thought. Perhaps she should ask for a second date. Or was she looking for something serious?

“I haven’t really given it much thought,” Nina admitted and glanced over at Stina who had busied herself with work the moment she got back to the office. “She sent me flowers when I was sick. It was very sweet of her.”

“That is indeed very sweet. I have a feeling that she’s a keeper, Nina. You should ask her out for a second date,” Josef advised.

“But what should we do?” Nina asked insecurely.

“What do you like to do Nina?” Josef wondered.

“Go for long walks and watch different series on my computer,” Nina replied.

“Hmm… I could work with that,” Josef said and went silent for a moment. “Perhaps you could go for a walk, have a picnic and then go home to start watching a new series together?”

“But don’t you think she might find it boring?” Nina questioned.

“Nina, listen up. The whole point of dating is to get to know each other better, is it not?” Josef asked her, but didn’t wait for her reply. “Doing things you enjoy is a great way for Stina to get to know you.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Nina agreed, feeling inspired to try asking Stina out for a second date. “Thanks for the advice.”

Nina smiled up at Andrew as he stopped by her desk. ‘Is it Josef?’ he mouthed and she nodded in response. He shook his head smilingly at her and motioned for her to give him the phone.

“Josef... Nina has important work to do, you can’t keep calling her like this,” he admonished in a soft voice. “I know she said it’s alright, but she really needs to hang up now… Yes, I can… No, I don’t think that’s approp- Because I’m her boss… Fine, I’ll ask her… Yeah, I love you too. Bye.” Andrew hung up the phone and crossed his arms as he looked at Nina with a playfully admonishing look. “Having private conversations during work time, are we?” he asked her amusedly.

“Sorry, I was going to hang up,” Nina told him guiltily.

“Good, about that. Josef asked me if you could give him your private number. I tried to tell him that it was inappropriate, but he insisted I should ask,” Andrew told her with a dejected smile. “Of course you don’t have to.”

“I would love to,” Nina replied gleefully. “I need to keep him updated on how things are going with Stina. He’s really good at giving advice.”

Andrew’s face lit up at her response. “He is good at giving advice,” he agreed, and glanced over at Stina who was sitting by her desk typing at her keyboard. “So you and Stina, huh?” he commented and smiled warmly at her. “As long as you keep it professional.”

“Of course we will,” Nina replied.

“No sex in the toilets,” Andrew whispered to her, causing her to blush deeply. He smirked at her before walking off to his office. As soon as he was out of sight, Nina got up from her seat and walked over to where Stina was sitting.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, causing Stina to look up at her with a bright smile that reached her green eyes. She nodded wordlessly. “Would you like to go out on a date with me this Saturday?”

“I thought you would never ask,” Stina replied happily. “Yes, I do.”

“Great. I’ll give you the details once I’ve figured them out,” Nina told her with a smile before walking back to her desk. She couldn’t stop smiling to herself as she kept working. Now she felt like she had something important to look forward to. Perhaps her gloomy mood last week was merely a setback? Perhaps things would only get better from now on?

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#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston stepfather #tom hiddleston father #henry cavill #benedict cumberbatch #andrew scott

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shadowshamrock · 3 years

Text

Before You Go

Title: Before You Go Ch. 10

Summary: Chuck is serious this time about the world ending thanks to his hissy fit with the Winchesters. The Winchesters are not as alone as they thought in their war against god. There’s always been secrets from the Men of Letters that could always be revealed. Someone from Dean’s past always had a connection and they come back to remind him.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16

Words: 2062

Isabel watched Jack and Castiel drive off and she made a phone call to Sheriff Evans. She told him, Jack was arrested, and they could rest again. She went back to the warehouse; she went to one of the crates and pushed away the dust sitting on top. They hadn’t been moved in a while by the look of the dust. She took out her phone, going through her contacts. She stared at her grandmother’s name and wondered if she’d even pick up. She tapped it, the call started and figured it was at least a start.

“A few minutes late, but who’s really timing these things?” Kathryn Monachi always spoke this way. “Which question are we answering today?”

Isabel hated the way her grandmother spoke. She could predict things but with her age it seemed to be diminishing. However, tonight she seemed to know Isabel’s life was going to take a turn, which was the reason she was making the phone call in the first place.

“Hi Kathryn. Nice to hear your voice too. The knife wound is fine, by the way.” She said, the sarcasm dripped from her words. She needed to get to the pony. “First, I need a favor.” She said pausing.

Kathryn gave a small chuckle. “Don’t you always. We cleaned up the Kabaiel’s mess already with Sheriff Evans. Kabaiel’s life was long already, and Jack’s purpose is more important than ours. You’re welcome.” She stated this so nonchalantly; it made Isabel angrier.

Everyone kept mentioning Jack’s purpose and somehow, she was involved. She sat on her motel bed and tried to gain her composure. Everyone who raised her seemed to know what was going on more than she did, and it was annoying. She was starting to realize Dean’s aggravation was legitimate and she could feel her power start to pulse through her.

“Kathryn, what exactly do you see? Apparently, Death is really insistent on my involvement and now you’re suddenly okay with it?” She asked.

She heard Kathryn move on the other side. “I can’t see you as much, only when you’re with the Winchesters. That angel, Castiel you spend a lot of time with him and that changes my sight. I don’t think this is a phone conversation, but to put it bluntly you’re not exactly my granddaughter.” She answered.

Isabel’s head spun. “Excuse me?” She said calmly as possible.

“Kabaiel ironically was the one who brought you to us. Told us officers to train you. Your mother and father wanted children, so they decided to take you. You were an interesting child, always curious, hear a lot more than most telepaths. You were quick, lethal, obedient for the most part, and easy to put through what you had to because the attachment was gone. Kabaiel never told us who your parents were. Just that you were sleeping for ages, and that you were the light out of the darkness.” She told her all of this and the room started spinning.

Isabel parents were killed, she was starting to see a trend. She had the phone away from her ear in order to compose herself. She gained some of her composure again, trying not to feel as though she was meant to be alone.

“So why never tell me, but make damn sure I knew my place?” She asked.

Kathryn let out a sigh on the other end. “Again, my dear, we had orders.” She simply stated.

“Orders for what?” She asked.

“To make sure you left the Winchesters alone. But what good did that do. You and Lucan meeting Dean Winchester all those years ago, the plan was thrown off. Things needed to be… adjusted.” Kathryn finished this sentence as if Isabel should know what was meant.

Isabel was tired of hearing about plans at this point. She took another deep breath, why was everyone so sure the Winchesters would be the ones to take care of everything. It was getting ridiculous, and the boys had suffered enough. She wanted to know more, realizing at this point she may not have the energy to, and she stilled the anger inside her as she felt the drum of power beat through her. “Death greets me like an old friend. I have no parents, and all you can say after that is it’s just orders?” She asked finally.

Kathryn paused on the other line letting out another deep breath. “We tried with you Isabel. We only had what I’ve told you. Your purpose as far as I could tell was to be obedient like the rest of us, but I can say you never did fit in with the rest of us Nephilim.” She added. “Don’t let me keep you; I tried to love you the best I could. You’ve just been different…” her voice showed a hint of sadness. “I know you loved your mother as much as she loved you. Don’t let that change anything. When she took you under her care, she had Anabel and she always took that as a thank you.” Kathryn finished finally and Isabel didn’t know what to say.

A part of her always felt Kathryn blamed her parents death on her even though she couldn’t fully remember what happened. She hadn’t realized she had started crying, tears hitting her lap. She sniffed. “Thank you, Kathryn. I’ve got to go.” She said, wiping her hand on her sleeve.

“Oh, and Isabel, the light and the dark, remember they cannot exist without each other.” Kathryn added. “Take care and I do love you.” She said.

The phone call ended, and Isabel sat in slight disbelief and disappointment. She had learned over the years to never ask questions if you didn’t want to know the answers, but she hadn’t exactly expected that revelation at all. She fell back, laying out herself on the bed. She didn’t know her heritage at all, just that it seemed relevant and insistent on balance. She looked at her tattoo on her arm and raced the letters. How was only 18 hours ago Castiel’s fingers had been there. She smiled softly remembering and happy Castiel had Jack back. She rolled on her side, picking up her phone again. She went to dial Castiel’s number but didn’t feel ready quite yet.

The news she received was heavy and she knew Castiel would try to figure out who her parents were. She had parents, loved them to death, and now her story was just her wandering the world. She felt her purpose was gone. She remembered the voice in her head, it was Jack’s. She wondered why in his capture; Jack reached out to her. She looked at the time, trying to figure out if she could make it back to the bunker. It was already too late to try and get a rental car, and she believed sleep could clear her head at this point. She needed to change out of her bloody clothes, tossed the shirt in the trash, made a mental note to get new one and turned on the shower.

Isabel let the cold water turn to hot, steam filling the bathroom. She rested her naked body against the tile, cool to her skin, and sobbed. It was starting to be too much; mentally exhausted. She finished up her shower, looked down to analyze her wound and she noticed a light scar. She frowned, wondering when she started to heal quickly and wrapped the towel around her. She came out of the bathroom and on her bed was a plastic case and a letter.

These were always yours. The note was in her grandmother’s script. She scowled, a little ticked off someone got into her room while she was showering.

Isabel put her clothes on quickly just in case and sat down on the other bed across from the box. She didn’t know what was in it. She was trained to fight all her life and she wondered if it was some type of weapon. She moved to open it, and her phone rang. She raised an eyebrow, taking it out and not recognizing the number. She hit the answer button and put it up to her ear.

“Hello?” She asked.

“Isabel, hi, it’s me, Jack.” The voice was comforting, and she smiled.

She crossed her legs on the bed and sat. “Let me guess, Castiel gave you my number to check on me?” She asked.

Jack smiled on the other end. “Well, no, but I’m sure when I asked for it, that’s why he gave it to me.” He said. “Are you though, okay, I mean?” He asked.

Something deep down believed she had no reason to lie to him. She let out a long breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “No, not really. A lot happened today.” She said.

Jack sighed. “I’m sorry you died.” He said.

Isabel huffed. “I’m beginning to realize it was calculated. Not that I think it was you… it wasn’t your idea, was it?” She asked.

“No, Billie is very firm about you and me. I have strict orders to lie low so Chuck can’t find me. All I understand is Chuck can’t see you. It confuses him when Sam, Dean, even Castiel interact with you.” He confirmed.

Isabel took this in for a moment with the information she had found out today. “The reason I’ve been told to leave them alone all my life.” She muttered. She stood up and opened the box. She smirked; it was her sais she couldn’t find the day she left all those years ago. She had a feeling Kathryn knew she was leaving and kept them from her on purpose. She ran her fingers on one of the handles, feeling the power of angel magic. She smiled, picking up a blade as Jack spoke.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked.

“I need to ask a big favor, before I tell you this, I have to know you won’t tell Castiel. I plan to myself, I’m just not ready yet. Can you do that?” She asked. She adjusted the blade in her hand, balancing the weight of it in her hand. As she twisted the blade, she noticed a symbol that wasn’t coming to her as she waited for Jack’s answer.

“That’s a big ask.” Jack responded.

“I know; and I know especially since we just met, but something else is telling me to trust you. Can I?” She asked, putting the blade back down in the box.

Jack smiled to himself, feeling the same way. “Yes.” He answered wholeheartedly.

“My family history isn’t what I thought it was. I’m still Nephilim, I just don’t know which family line I come from. My powers apparently aren’t the same as everyone else’s I grew up with.” She told him.

Jack was amazed. “You had a whole family of Nephilim?” He asked.

Isabel forgot Jack was young. “Yes. I’m sorry Jack. Apparently, we’re the only ones left. Well, there’s my grandmother, but she insists she’s not like you where she’s a direct line. I thought I was the same way, but I’m starting to reconfigure that story.” She told him.

“Isabel, you realize that’s not something I can just keep from Cas. He’s like my dad and from what I can gather from how he was on the way home after you stayed behind, you mean a lot to Castiel too.” Jack told her this with full confidence.

Isabel ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I know. I just, need some time.” Isabel said.

Jack sighed. “Look, Sam and Dean will be able to help. I hope to see you soon, please.” He added.

Isabel smiled softly, he sounded so hopeful, it was hard to say no despite how resentful she was feeling. “I’m heading back in the morning. Get some rest Jack, good night.” She said.

Jack smiled happily at the phone as he hung up. He knew how happy Castiel felt when she came back and felt that shatter when she pushed him away. He found things so confusing still, however since interacting with Isabel in the Empty, even briefly, he felt a strange bond to her. She was a Nephilim like him, that he felt for sure; with the way Billie talked about her, she was as special as he was, and he wondered a bit why he was picked over her. Billie kept answering with in due time and Jack hoped meeting her would bring answers.

#spnfanfiction #castiel x oc #canon x oc #supernatural x oc #spnfanficpond

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nachohypno · 4 years

Text

Nate and Dave Ch. 11

It’s been a while.

…Not a very long while, though. It was just a week ago or so when I lost my virginity to a werewolf. Who just happens to be my soulmate. And thus, has to obey everything I say.

Neat.

Getting up from my bed was always a hard task for me. And that sounded way sadder than I intended. Point is, school starts in like half an hour and I’m still not even up. I was, of course, doing this on purpose.

I’m not that eager to go to school, but it’s my responsibility and I respect that. I was just having a little experiment though.

The sound of an indistinguishable car parking in front of my house, some heavy footsteps later, a knock on my door. I had opened my window, so I could hear everything that went down as he opened the front door and ran up the stairs.

A few moments later, Dave the jock entered my room and closed the door behind him. “Why ya still in bed?”

Everything fell into place. “Bed gravity is killing me right now, barely want to move” I excused myself, but I did wonder if Dave knew that I was waiting for him to notice I didn’t answer his daily [Mornin, my love<3], and feigned being late to school to make him come over.

I mean, I didn’t intend on making him come over, I just wanted to see how he would react to it. Dave was usually pretty pending on what I’m doing, and wants to take part to make sure we spend lots of time together.

It’s cute and scary at the same time, things that happen when a werewolf just so happens to see you as their soulmate.

“Ditchin’ school? Is it just me or you suddenly become way more attractive?” He dropped his bag on the floor and pushed me against the wall to make room for himself, then climbed on the bed and lied down beside me.

“Wait, we’re not ditching school. I mean, it does sound good, but we still have to—” He interrupted me. Dave liked to do this when I’m about to bring something up that will probably ruin the moment, it was a good life-saver. He invaded my mouth with his tongue, while trying to remain as gentle as always.

I could tell that wasn’t an easy task for him, but he tried his best and it really showed.

Sadly, I had to pull him off. “Wait, we gotta head to class, I don’t want to be late and you’re doing great progress lately.”

“Huh, y’think so?” Dave mumbled, trying to get closer again but I gently pushed him back. I was tempted to just stay in bed and cuddle with him all morning, but if I wanted to help him become a better guy at the end, I should give the example too.

“I legit think Ms. Porter will cry with joy if you actually finish that book for her essay.” I replied, kissing his cheek before passing over him and leaving the bed.

I think I helped him a lot at school, not only with his shitty behavior but also with his studies. Dave wanted to be a good guy for me, because I didn’t trust him before with all his shitty hot-headed attitude.

…He still had it. But he tried to be nicer.

“Hmm… I’m up for it, that bitch’s made my last year a nightmare. Tryna make me do extra essays n’ stuff” I would let that slide, because everyone hated Ms. Porter. She did give everyone a lot of essays. I’m okay with it, I enjoy reading, but even those books aren’t that interesting.

Dave got up from my bed, and passed a hand over his hair. I noticed it was a bit brighter than usual. It wasn’t combed, but he seemed to have it stylized with gel to be a bit spikier, in contrast to his usually short, wavy and parted to the left style.

“Well… I didn’t even shower yet but—”

But the werewolf was already determined. “No shit, bro. We’re not going late, that’s what ya just said. C’mon, looking great already, as always” Dave grabbed my bag near my desk, placed it on my back before grabbing his own bag and my hand, pulling me out of my room.

“Hey, I can’t go to school in pajamas- Oh you know what, never mind, I’ve done this before.” I quickly changed my answer mid-speech. I sighed, ‘I’m supposed to be the one in control here and I’m being dragged out of my house. Let’s change that back’ I told myself.

“Dave, I order you to stop,” I said firmly, as we reached the living room. The jock obeyed without hesitation, freezing in place. I couldn’t see his face right now, but I assumed his eyes were a bit zoned out, like they always get when I order him something. “And let go of my hand, if you may.” He obeyed that too, his arms falling to his sides as the werewolf waited for more orders.

Alright, let’s see.

I grabbed a yoghurt cereal bar from the fridge, that would make a good breakfast. I used my reflection at the microwave’s glass door to fix my hair as best as I could, before I decided to walk upstairs and finish the deal brushing my teeth and washing my face.

I checked my clock, we still had quite some time. At least 17 minutes until the first class *actually* started.

I changed my tee into something less pajama-y and my pants for some jeans. Now I was looking appropriate for school, the last thing I needed was being sent to the counselor’s office for having a sudden “Lazy day”.

Believe me, it happened before and it could happen again.

Walking back downstairs while biting a big chunk of the cereal bar, Dave was still frozen in place. I could take a good look at him now, and I liked the view.

The big football player had, as I expected, zoned out eyes and a bit of a dumb smile. He wasn’t wearing the bowser collar I got him, which made sense because we were about to enter school.

A lumberjack buttoned shirt that seemed to cling pretty well to his muscular body, a tank top underneath, and some black joggers. I took a moment to unbutton the top button of his shirt, so his pecs would be a bit more visible. It gave him a cuter look, while also being like “Yo, I’m really muscled”. I chuckled at the little impersonation I just imagined.

“So, uh… you can wake up, I think?” I was still a bit unsure of how this all ‘I control your mind and body’ thing worked, but I was getting the hang of it pretty well!

The zoned out jock blinked a few times before starting to move again. “Oh, hey bro. When did you change clothes? You look stunning as always, huh.” He mumbled, before leaning in to give me a kiss and walking out of the house with a big smile.

He really didn’t care if I controlled him or anything, he would just roll with it. I was sure he actually enjoyed it, he always looks excited when I suggest he do something. Ordering him to do something may just trigger his puppy boy side to make sure I’m happy, maybe? It’s just a theory without any fundamentals.

It’s not like there’s a book about werewolves anyway. Not that I know of, I guess.

Beep! Beeeeeeep!

Dave was now using the car’s horn to make me hurry. I grabbed my bag again and walked out, joining him at his car and receiving yet another amazing kiss.

“I’m sorta sad when we have different classes,” He started, as he drove away from my house and towards the school. He was trying to hurry, but while maintaining the basic driving security measures. Guess the big guy wants to be a responsible driver, huh. “That means less time admiring your handsome face, my love”.

“Aaaand, more time to focus on your studies. You know that I get really proud when you study like a good puppy boy, don’t you?” I was about to caress the back of his ear, but that would have been dangerous. He shouldn’t zone out while driving.

“Yessuh, I’m a good puppy boy!” He beamed up, but remained focus on the road. A few minutes later, we were arriving at the almost-empty parking lot. Dave pulled over and turned off the engine, before pulling me in for one last kiss. This one was particularly longer than the former ones, I loved it.

“A lil’ present, don’t know how I’m gonna survive these shitty classes without you…” He leaned in towards my shoulder, laying on it. I did what I intended to before and caressed his good spot behind his ear. The big guy started panting, tongue lolling out.

“C’mon,” I said, checking my phone with my free hand and stopping the sweet moment. “We’ve got a few minutes left. Gotta go in, puppy boy.” His eyes seemed sad, but he nodded.

Dave grabbed his bag and left the car, and I followed suit.

We hurried to the main building, and I noticed that Dave seemed hesitant about something. His hand was almost touching mine as we walked, but he made sure it was several centimeters apart so nobody would suspect anything.

I always wondered if it was hard for him to keep himself apart from me. I definitely didn’t mind, but we still had things to work out if we wanted this to really end up well.

…Dave hates when I imply that we’re two guys in a relationship, when he’s the one that brought it up and asked me to be his boyfriend. He’s still pretty homophobic, yeah, but he works around it pretty well.

Still considering himself straight isn’t bad, I guess. I’m more worried about the other targets he used to torment. While he’s not a bully anymore, he also wouldn’t lift a finger to stop something from happening right in front of him, except if I’m the one in danger.

It’s not like I want him to be a superhero, and I do find his ‘mean jock’ attitude kind of attractive, (When it doesn’t terrify me, of course.)

“Just before we enter, let me remind ya that you’re the best guy in the universe, my soulmate…” He wanted to lean in for a kiss, but quickly got back on my feet and blushed.

“Good luck today, big guy” I tiptoed and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Love you too, by the way.”

Before he could react though and pull me in for a make out session at the school’s gates, I entered the building and headed to my locker. The disappointed but infatuated jock followed behind me, and went to his own locker.

Everyone seemed to be already going to their classes, so I guess I was still safe.

My first class was advanced math, and while it wasn’t that difficult, it wasn’t ideal either.

All the seats were taken already, except the one next to one of my two best friends. Sadly, Dick wasn’t in this class, and Sam didn’t seem happy to see me.

“Coming late to school? That’s a new thing.” He greeted me, as I sat down and took my stuff out of the bag.

“I like to think that I’m not late if the professor hasn’t arrived yet” Speaking of which, I noticed the guy was actually arriving late today. It was like 10 minutes past the class’ start. “Uh… did I miss a text or something? This one’s never late, huh.”

“No no, don’t summon him just yet. We can fast-forward to a later meeting so we can all go home earlier. That sounds good, yeah” Poor guy, he’s speaking with himself now.

Sam had been elected last year as our council’s president, with a lot of effort and dealing with each of the “cliques” around school.

...And it seemed to be worse than he planned it out to be. You see, one of his promises to get the jocks’ votes was to increase the budget for the sports teams, which included the cheerleaders in the bandwagon.

That sounds cool, but in reality they already had more than enough budget dedicated to them, so we had to start raising funds for future events, or the sports team would eat it all.

Parents with their “bring and sell food for the school” events helped quite a lot, I’ve never been happier to see a random mother bring a plate full of nachos and hot dogs to sell at school.

“So, I’m supposed to ask the whole council about this, but I’d like to lay out my options first…” Sam took The Mighty Notebook from his bag and placed it on the middle of the table, pushing my things aside. ‘How rude!’ I thought, but didn’t give it too much importance.

“A sexy car wash is-” “Out of the question” I interrupted him “This isn’t a teen tv show. We can’t sexualize our football players.”

“Well, you can, you just don’t want to. Anyway… Cake sale?” My friend took a pen and crossed out the ‘sexy car wash’ option.

“People’ll get tired of it if we keep doing those. Parents already sell food at sports games and they’re not exactly rare to see, we have one almost every two weeks.” I hated being the party pooper, but if it helped him pick the right choices… “It can be done, but we can rehash that idea too many times. That’s what I mean.”

“Oooookay” He didn’t cross that one out, but instead added a big “(?)” next to it. “Last one I thought about, for now, was a winter’s ball kind of thing. Selling tickets for prom is apparently a great way to raise funds, but I’m not waiting until the end of the school year for that.”

“We’d need the principal’s permission for that but… you should discuss that one with the cheerleaders, they’ll love the idea. The more ‘prom nights’ there are, the merrier for them, huh?” This time, he made a tick next to the option, like it was validated for the meeting later.

“I wish we could do something like the drama club and just put up a lame production and sell overpriced tickets… Parents would pay anything to see their sons, right?”

“Uh, I guess so. They would probably be pretty mad if we fucked up the show, so let’s leave that one out.” Sam seemed a bit tired. I could maybe ask Dave for a little help with this whole thing, he would know what to do.

Hmm… or maybe, Dave’s ex-girlfriend?

“You should talk with Leslie.” I gave Sam a little tap on the shoulder and pointed at the girl a few rows at the back. She hadn’t noticed us, but she was really nice and tried her best to get to know me. We even sat together, like once! “Pretty sure she’d have some cool ideas that don’t sound taken from a bad movie.”

“You think so?” He took a moment to breath, relaxing on his chair. I honestly wanted to help, but I’ve never wanted to be his secretary because I’m not good with coming up with this kind of stuff. Pretty sure anybody could do a better job than me in that area. “I’ll try to catch her in the corridor. Just… don’t stare and be cool, right? I don’t wanna come off as a perv, geez. We also have this party tonight, so could I maybe approach her there? I dunno...”

The professor made his way in, with an angry look on his face. We straightened on our seats to avoid getting his attention, I don’t want to be called out by some asshole in a mood. To finish with our council chatter, I whispered to Sam a “I’m sure you’ll do fine, she’s not the devil, right?”

He chuckled a bit before answering “Don’t let Dick hear you, I kinda think he has a crush on one of those chicks.” I rolled my eyes, such a cheap gossip.

-------

If I told you that nothing else interesting happened during the day, I wouldn’t be lying.

I barely got to see Dave, just had lunch with him at the yard’s lunch tables before being separated again. He ditched football practice, and I did the same with today’s council reunion because I had a headache.

I got into an argument with a professor, too. The first class in the day, but it wasn’t anything worth looking into. He thought he was right, and he was too mad to check he wasn’t right at all. Almost got sent to the principal’s office, but I dropped the subject just in time.

I did share a classroom with Dave for the second class but… we got separated by Sam’s need to plan out his next meeting. You see why I ditched the reunion today? I wanted to rest!

Lucky me, my savior was just a few tables away, and knew exactly what I needed.

He waited for me to put my stuff back at my locker after our last class ended, and took me to his car.

I first thought he was just driving me to my house, since we didn’t speak about him staying at all, but there were no questions asked apparently. The big guy decided to give me a good time, as he pulled over in front of my house, walked around the car and lifted me on his arms.

I felt like a little brat, but it also felt amazing. Having someone who cares about you on such a deep level, like Dave does… I love it. I love him. And he loves me.

The jock opened the door with one of his hands, kicked it shut and took me to my room.

There, he softly left me on my bed before putting a strip show in front of me. Or I wasn’t really sure what that was. He just threw his shirt and jeans over to my desk chair and started searching through his school bag.

The silence was a bit boring, but I felt like talking was unnecessary right now. I just wanted to know what he was planning for the evening. He pulled out the bowser collar, huh.

“Never leave the house without it, bruh” Dave said. “What’ya waiting for? Get on your underwear, we’re doing some great cuddling t’night!”

“Uh, okay. I like where this is going...” I mumbled, before starting my own strip show. Sadly, Dave barely paid attention to me, he was trying to put on the collar by himself, but he was having some trouble.

Before dropping my pants, I walked over to him and clasped the buckle for him, tightening it enough so it wouldn’t fall off but also trying to make it comfortable for him to wear. “Hmm… Perfect, my love…” He whispered in a sexy voice, before planting a warm kiss on my lips.

I thought we were starting already, but the big guy started to run towards my bed and lied down with his arms reaching out for me. “C’mooooon, can’t wait for youuuuuu!”

I rolled my eyes and dropped my pants. Still in my underwear, just like the werewolf jock, I walked over to my bed and got grabbed by my boyfriend there.

Laying down on bed as Dave pulled me closer to his warm, almost-smooth body.

The bowser dog collar around his neck wasn’t sharp enough to hurt me, so I didn’t worry about that and just let myself be grabbed by this hunk of a jock.

“Enjoyed your day, my love?” He asked, looking at me with adoring eyes. It wasn’t creepy, I liked it. He barely acts like this at school, so his change of ‘big meanie alpha bro’ to ‘lovesick puppy boy’ was amazing to see.

“Ugh… I almost fell asleep at Mr. Cal’s class. So glad it’s Friday again…” I mumbled my answer. I tried to avoid mentioning the argument with my professor, but I’m pretty sure my class mentioned it already. Dave was pretty straightforward though, so he would probably mention it if he wanted to.

I know that I could easily not be tired if I would go to bed earlier at night, but those monsters are not going to hunt themselves in Monster Hunter, right?

“Wouldn’t mind spending all weekend just hugging you here…” Dave whispered, before placing a gentle kiss on my head. His hand was moving towards my private area, but I wasn’t going to stop him. I liked how it felt. “Just taking care of my lovely soulmate…” Another kiss, this time moving closer to my mouth.

When it comes to sexy stuff… I suck. Like, not in the literal hot way, I’m lame at it. I don’t like bottoming much, because I’m a bit of a wimp and I’m afraid of being hurt, but having Dave as a top is such a wonderful thing (After you go past that little pain at the beginning, the rest of the thing goes in like nothing) probably because he focuses too much on me having the most pleasure out of it.

So, I usually let Dave take control of the situation and just guide me wherever he wants to go. It’s not like we fuck every day though; I’ve only had my first time like a week ago. My werewolf jock would be up for it if I ordered him to, not going to lie.

But like, if we did that, it would kind of lose the magic of the moment? Like, I know Dave loves sex but even if it feels good the two times we’ve done it so far, it’s not like it’s a game-changer or anything.

So… cuddling and foreplay was the best thing ever!

“That’s sweet but don’t you have a party tonight? Sam has been talking all week about a—” I got silenced, the kiss was now happening at my mouth, cool. That’s what I get for trying to ruin such a good moment, I’m glad Dave stopped me.

His hand slipped in my underwear as he took hold of my cock and slowly stroked it. Meanwhile, we made out without a care in the world.

My breath got heavier. I felt so good at the moment, and Dave seemed to want me to stay like that for a good while. He would slow down the pace of his strokes or pick it up at just the right times.

…I had an idea.

I passed my hand through his hair as we broke the kiss, and he just looked at me in bliss. “Who’s a good puppy boy? You are, don’t you?” I whispered the question, to get him in his puppy mood.

It worked like a charm. Dave’s strokes slowed down a bit, as he started caressing himself with my hand, like a dog would do. “Yeah, bruh… Imma good puppy boy”

I ruffled his hair a bit more. “And every good puppy boy needs a good owner to take care of them, right?”

Okay, it may seem like I’m trying to do something weird or kinky here, but I actually wanted to try and make him a bit less… self-centered? I already had full control of him, due to our soulmate bond, but maybe if he saw me as a superior… He wouldn’t be so careless about others? Like he’s not at the top of the pyramid anymore?

But it didn’t work as intended, or at least not as I expected. Dave shook his head, without losing his chilled and happy expression. “Good puppy boys take care of their owners, bruh. Wanna protect and serve mine to make ‘im happy.”

It definitely wasn’t what I wanted to say, but it worked pretty well. “Who’s the owner though, puppy boy?”

“Really need me to say it?” The werewolf jock seemed a bit embarrassed to give his answer, as his cheeks turned red and he stared at me very intently. I nodded, of course. I came this far already, what I’m going to say? ‘Oh, no, I was just messing with you hahahaha well good night!’ “You’re my owner, bruh. Didn’t ya know that already? I love doing as you say…”

He leaned in for a good kiss. “…And I love you, my lovely soulmate.” He finished. Now I was the one who blushed. After that, the jock lied down beside me and pulled me to cuddle together. “Now come here, I need to make my owner feel good”

It did feel good to hear that I’m his owner. Oh geez, do I have a domination kink? Uh… I think that kind of explains why I love seeing him wearing that bowser collar, beside that it makes fun of the fact that he’s a werewolf.

He’s my good puppy boy, after all. “So, how are you going to make your owner feel good, puppy boy?” I roamed his big chest with my hands as I waited for an answer. I don’t feel like I say this enough, but I’m lucky to have this guy as my soulmate.

Dave raised an eyebrow, and spoke with a confident tone, but still curious. “What does my owner want me to do? This puppy boy will take care of it, whatever it is, huhuh”

Ooookay, if my cock was hard before, then it was aching right now with how horny I was. “Truth is, been a while since we’ve had some… action?” Oh god, I felt so dumb saying something like that. I think Dave would have laughed at me, but he actually seemed turned on by what I was implying.

“Fuck, been wanting to hear you say those words in like a week.” He kneeled on top of the bed, after pulling his underwear off. His cock was hard, as usual. I wonder if he jerks off at his house or if he’s just eager like a big horny werewolf. Speaking of his cock, Dave placed himself in such a way that his cock would be right in front of me. “C’mon bruh, show me how those lips work-”

“I was actually expecting you to suck mine off… Never did this before” If I felt dumb before, imagine how I was now. Dave seemed to try and find a solution, though.

“So, uh… never 69’d before?” I shook my head, and he let out a little sigh, but never stopped smiling. He was just a soft marshmallow when we were alone, I liked that about him. “Let me show ya”

I remained lying down, as Dave did all the work. He crawled over to my cock, got on top of my body and moved until his cock was on my face and mine was near his. The jock licked the top, giving me a little jolt of pleasure, like a little preview of what was about to come.

“Just… relax, and open wide. Not everyone can take my snake during their first time, heh” It made me wonder how many times he did this before. Or how many times did he had sex before.

I leaned forward and smelled his dong. It wasn’t bad, so I proceeded to take the piece of meat in my mouth. It didn’t taste bad at all, it was actually pleasant. I wiggled my tongue around the tip, and I could hear the big guy starting to pant already before he dove in for my cock.

‘Hell yeaaaaah’ I thought, before focusing on my own part of the job. It was a bit hard to do due to the position, but it was doable, at least. I wasn’t able to deep throat (Not that I’ve ever done that before, saw it in porn and uh… it would be nice to try out?) due to the position, too.

“You’re doing great, my love…” Dave pulled off for a second to say, before going back to the action. I felt compelled to order him something, just like the first time he gave me a blowjob. It was always so hot, looking at him doing as I said…

“Uh… hey Dave, could you take it all in and work around that?” I ordered him, way calmer than this morning. It still seemed to work, because he took my whole shaft in one go and I could feel the motion of his mouth going up and down, taking it all every time. It felt really good, but I had to return the favor.

I tried to pick up my pace too, to make him feel as good as I was. I know that I can’t possibly compete with a werewolf under the soulmate bond, he would definitely… uhhh. “I’m coming!” I warned him, but he didn’t move an inch.

The big guy took my whole load, and licked the rest of my shaft with his tongue to avoid letting a drop of my cum go to waste.

And now, it was my turn…

Dave had this order still on him. “You will cum only after I cum.” Not saying that he’s precocious but… he does seem to cum right after I’ve been pleased. Maybe he finds that hot already?

My train of thoughts was derailed by the sudden explosion of cum in my mouth. It activated my gag reflex, so I pulled off and just swallowed the one that was already in my mouth. Part of my mind found it hot, while the other found it a bit gross.

Dave was still at 69 position. I looked over at his face and he seemed to be back in obedient puppy mode. Tongue lolling out, and eyes glazed over. It was a hot sight.

“C’mon big guy, did a great job down there. Let’s just cuddle for a while, alright?” I told him, wanting to cover myself so badly. I felt a bit naked without a sheet over myself. Luckily, none of our loads fell in my bed, or I would have to change the sheets.

“Yeah, bruh…” He mumbled, before doing as I told him. He repositioned himself next to me, and lied down. His muscled body was an amazing sight, and I pulled him in for a hug.

“Who’s a good puppy boy?” I whispered, loving the feel of his warm skin against mine.

“I am, bruh. I’m a good puppy boy for my owner… huhuh…” A dopey smile appeared on his face, and I proceeded to plant a kiss on him. I wanted to write down today’s progressions or something, I still had that ‘study Dave’s behavior’ on my mind. But it seemed kind of clouded now that I was focused on taking a little break with him beside me.

It was always good to spend a good time with my lovely werewolf jock.

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Chapter 12 is already available in my Patreon! And by pledging you also get access to other stories before they go public!

#nate and dave #mind control #werewolf #straight to gay #gay hypnosis #hypnotized #brainwashing #brainwash #brainwashed

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purrincess-chat · 5 years

Text

The Fall of Rome CH 2 (Final) [REUPLOAD]

I tweaked and fixed the inconsistencies in this one as well as a couple minor things in CH1, so hopefully it’s a bit more coherent now.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

It was risky. She knew it was. Plus, there was no guarantee that he’d actually say yes. Revenge wasn’t really her style, but after everything Lila had done…she had to try.

“No, no, I said without nuts, Mr. Stone is very- hang on, oh, Marinette, hi,” Penny said, lowering her phone onto her shoulder. “What can I help you with?”

“Um, I have a school project, and I have to interview someone who inspires me, and I was hoping Jagged would be willing,” Marinette said, holding up a blue folder with a smile.

“Yes, confirm the hair appointment- uh, Marinette, Jagged is kind of booked up today. When do you need to interview him by?” She asked then into her phone said, “be sure the M&Ms don’t have nuts this time.”

“I have to present it by tomorrow,” she said, and Penny tapped her pen on her lip. “3rd period. It’s around 11.”

“Can you do it live? Jagged has a little free time from 11 to 12 tomorrow,” Penny said, and Marinette pressed her lips together to hide her smirk.

“That would be great. Thanks, Penny!” Marinette said with a smile and a wave, but before she headed back up the hall, she paused to retrieve a folded note from her purse. “Um, one more thing…Can you give this to him for me?”

Penny eyed the letter as her phone rang, leaving little time for questions. She snatched the note and offered Marinette a parting smile and nod before shutting the suite door. Marinette clasped her hands behind her back, heading for the elevator with a triumphant smile.

Step one of her plan was in motion. Now she just needed to focus on not going to far with step two. A lot of her friends were really angry with Lila, and she understood their feelings more than anyone. But it wouldn’t do them any good to humiliate Lila and harden her heart even more. If they wanted to get through to her, they needed to be smart about this.

The following day, Marinette went about business as usual, but as 3rd period drew closer, her nerves flared up with vigor. What if this all went horribly wrong? What if Lila managed to spin it back on her somehow? What if Jagged didn’t show, and she failed her project? She wasn’t sure which question scared her more.

“Yo, Marinette!” Well, she supposed she didn’t have to worry about one of those fears as Jagged approached her in the courtyard. He draped an arm over her shoulders with a wide grin, mussing her hair affectionately. “Inspired by your ol’ Uncle Jagged, are ya? Are you sure I shouldn’t be the one interviewing you?”

“You’re not getting a grade on it,” she giggled. “Thank you for coming. I know you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for my favorite little lady. We can rock out anytime,” he said, leaning down to her level and glancing around. “Now, which one is the troublemaker?”

“Oh, you’ll know her when you see her. She lies with every breath, and she threatened to turn everyone against me,” Marinette said and crossed her arms over her chest. “But she won’t be lying for long. A majority of the class has learned her little secret, and I’m sure once she sees you, she’ll know her little reign is over.” She paused for a moment, pursing her lips before asking, “You don’t think I’m being too mean with all of this, do you?”

“Not in the slightest. If it were me, I’d have called me up to expose her ages ago, and I’d have a crate of snakes delivered to her door. I did that once to a bloke who used me to get into the VIP section at an awards show once, so if you’re in the market, I know a guy,” Jagged said with a shrug. “Some people need to be called out or else they’ll never stop using others.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said as the bell rang, and she took a deep breath. “Well, let’s go hunt the fox, shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

Not wanting to cause a commotion, Marinette instructed Jagged to wait in the hall until it was time for her to present, and she locked eyes with Alya who quirked a brow the moment she entered the room. She gave an affirming nod that brought a smirk to her best friend’s lips as she sat down.

“Okay, class. Today we are presenting our important figures interviews, so who would like to go first?” Mlle. Bustier asked.

“I will.” Marinette’s hand shot up, and Mlle. Bustier’s eyes widened in surprise before a delighted smile curled on her lips.

“Wonderful! Go ahead, Marinette.”

Marinette moved to the front of the room, shooting a pointed glare at Lila as her classmates in the loop leaned in expectantly.

“Well, the person I picked to interview has a very busy schedule, so I didn’t actually find time to interview him outside of class, but he graciously agreed to come today so I could conduct the interview right here,” she said, and several of her classmates grinned in unison as she opened the door to reveal Jagged Stone on the other side.

The room erupted with chatter as Jagged joined her at the front of the room, and Lila slipped down into her seat. Mlle. Bustier clapped her hands to regain order and nodded for Marinette to continue.

“Thank you for coming today, Jagged,” she said with a sweet smile.

“No sweat, Marinette. You’re part of the Stone family now,” he said, and Marinette flicked her gaze over to Lila who glared daggers at her before proceeding.

“Okay, so when did you first decide that you wanted to do music?” Marinette started, focusing on the interview since it was part of her grade. The real show didn’t start until afterward, so she may as well relax and get a good grade.

Jagged was, no doubt, a big hit with the rest of the class. He was such an animated character that Marinette almost forgot why she’d invited him here. Almost.

“One last question,” she said at the end, doing her best not to look up at Lila. “What advice can you give to someone like me?”

“Well, any artistic industry is going to come with challenges, and if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s to be careful who you trust. There are a lot of people in the world who are going to feed you pretty stories to make you trust them, but you should never believe people so easily,” he said. “Because a lot of the time, they just want to use you. I’ve been burned many times by record companies, assistants, and even friends. Your support system is vital when you’re starting out and have nothing because those people are going to be the ones cheering you on from the beginning, so be sure that the people in it are truly people with your best interests at heart.”

The class applauded, and Marinette stretched up to hug Jagged. It was showtime.

“Hey, Jagged, can I get a picture with you for my blog?” Alya asked, holding up her phone.

“Yeah, can I get an autograph!”

“Me too!”

Her classmates crowded around him, that is, all save but one. Jagged flicked his gaze to Marinette who gave him a nod.

“I’ve really got to be off, so why don’t we do a group photo?” He said, glancing over everyone until his eyes found Lila still sitting at the back of the room. “Oy, you, what’s your name? Don’t you want to be in the picture?”

“What? You mean you don’t recognize her?” Kim asked with a laugh, and when Lila stiffened, Marinette felt her stomach do a somersault.

“Should I?” He placed his hands on his hips, squinting a little for show. “Wait, have I had you thrown out of my suite before?”

“Lila saved your precious kitten when it got lost on an airport runway before you found out you were allergic, that is. Surely, such a heroic deed wouldn’t be so easily forgotten,” Max said, and Jagged rubbed the back of his head.

“Uh, right, except, ya see, I’ve had Fang a long time. Longer than any of you have been alive. He was my first fan, and he’s been my best friend most of my life,” Jagged said. “I’ve never even owned a kitten. I’m more of a reptile guy.”

Lila’s jaw clenched at everyone’s collective gasp, her shoulders curling when every eye in the room trained on her.

“So then, there’s no way Lila could have saved your kitten,” Alix said with mocking disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Which means that Lila lied?” Nathaniel frowned, and the girl in question glared through Marinette before standing up and racing from the room.

“See what I mean? This happens all the time when you’re famous. People make up all kinds of stories to impress people, but most of them aren’t even true,” Jagged sighed as if it couldn’t be helped. “If there’s any young lady out there who’s saved me, it’s Marinette who kept my image from being ruined by the likes of Bob Roth. She’s my true hero.”

Her cheeks flushed as Jagged wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gestured for everyone to gather around.

“Say Jagged!”

***

The news of Lila’s farce spread fast, and by lunch everyone suddenly remembered how the internet worked and her lies had all been debunked. Marinette should have been happy, especially when all of her friends apologized for doubting her, but she couldn’t shake the pit in her stomach as she pushed food around on her tray.

The whole school knew Lila was a liar now which is what she’d always wanted, but for some reason, she couldn’t quite bring herself to celebrate. She shouldn’t feel guilty because Lila did it to herself. The truth was bound to come out in the end, so why then did Marinette feel so uneasy?

Maybe it was an early phase of food poisoning. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Adrien hadn’t met her eye all day because despite giving his permission, he hadn’t been immensely impressed with the whole debacle they’d arranged. Or maybe in some grand stretch of the imagination, she actually felt sorry for Lila. As horrible as she was, everyone deserved a chance to change, right? To make amends? Of course, she could argue that she’d given Lila that chance on many occasions, but it was different this time. This time, Rome had actually fallen, and Lila had gotten crushed under the bricks.

Sometimes Marinette hated her conscience.

“Adrien,” she said, shrinking a little as he paused rearranging his books in his locker to look over his shoulder. When he saw it was her, he lowered his gaze and turned back.

“Hey, Marinette,” he said, and her heart splintered at his dismissive tone. It was distant and curt. Cold, almost.

“I know you’re probably mad at me for exposing her like that,” she said, and Adrien shook his head.

“I’m not mad,” he said, finally flicking those green eyes up to meet her gaze. “After all, I left the choice in your hands, but I guess in a way I’m just…disappointed.” When she lowered her head, he continued, “I just thought that…if anyone could get through to her and help her, it’d be you, but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s best if we just let her live with the consequences.”

“Or maybe we still can,” she said, taking a breath. “I have an idea, but I’ll need your help.”

An hour later, Marinette rang Lila’s doorbell, her shoulders tense, but this was the right thing to do. At least, she hoped.

“Hello, Mme. Rossi,” she said when Lila’s mother answered the door.

“Oh, goodness, you must be Lila’s school friends,” she said, taking in the large group standing behind Marinette.

“That’s right. We were hoping to have a movie night with Lila,” Marinette explained, and Kim held up their selections.

“How fun! I was just on my way out, so this is perfect timing. Lila gets lonely while I’m at work, and I know she’s very shy and has trouble fitting in. It’s so sweet that you all came to help her feel welcome.” Mme. Rossi placed a hand over her heart. It seemed as though they weren’t the only people Lila lied to, but Marinette wasn’t about to correct her. “Lila! Your friends from school are here, and I’m heading out.”

The girl in question crept out of her room with narrow, skeptical eyes that flicked between each face as if bracing herself for the inevitable ridicule. But it never came.

“Kim brought the movies, and Nino and Ivan got snacks,” Marinette said, but Lila just crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why are you all here?” She asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Because we’re your friends, Lila,” Nino said, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah right, you guys just came here to rub it in,” she said with a huff, and Marinette glanced at Adrien who gave her an encouraging nod.

“Lila, we came here because we want you to know that you don’t have to lie to us to get us to like you. We want to be friends with you – the real you, if you want,” Marinette said, and her friends all gave nods of agreement. “So, what do you say?”

Lila held her gaze for a long time, searching it for any hint of deceit, but each face only reflected the same warmth. A warmth that, if Marinette had to guess, she wasn’t used to seeing because after a moment, she averted her gaze.

“I don’t get it,” she said, shaking her head. “You should all hate me.”

“Oh, trust me,” Alya said with a laugh. “We did.”

“But Marinette convinced us to give you a second chance because someone who tries so hard to get attention from others must be missing it in their life,” Nino said, draping an arm over Marinette’s shoulders. “Marinette is the glue that holds us all together, and she can always bring out the good in others if you let her.”

“It’s true. She’s even made Chloe a bit less unsufferable at times this year,” Nathaniel said.

“We’ll be your friends,” Mylene started.

“On one condition,” Alix said, holding up her index finger.

“No more lies.” It was Adrien who spoke, and he gave her a chiding look.

Lila pursed her lips and shifted her weight. She was quiet for a long time, and Marinette almost expected her to kick them out. But when she flicked those green eyes that had once been so guarded and hostile back at Marinette, they now carried a sense of insecurity and fear as if she wanted to reach out but forgot how to move her arms.

“Fine,” she said, and Marinette’s lips broke into a smile as the class crowded around Lila, piling into an awkward embrace.

Of course, it took a long time for Lila to fully build their trust again, and they took everything she said with a grain of salt for a while. It was to be expected, but over time, Lila relaxed and so did they. Her smiles came more freely. Her laughs were less forced, and as Marinette watched her chatting with Mylene and Alya across the locker room, she couldn’t help but smile. And that was before Adrien approached her.

“You really are a hero, Marinette,” he said, and her spine stiffened.

“I- what? I’m what? You- I’m not a- no.” At his laugh, she realized what he’d meant and that her cover was safe, and she laughed too.

“I don’t suppose you could change Chloe?” He quirked a brow, and Marinette made a face.

“One self-absorbed girl at a time, please,” she said, and Adrien smirked.

“Yeah, I know. She’s gonna take a lot of work, but I bet between the two of us, we can get through to her,” he said, nudging her with his elbow. “I’m really glad you decided to help her. You really are amazing.”

He patted her shoulder before retreating back up the aisle, and Marinette bit her lip hard to ensure she wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t.

Lila had come a long way since she came to their school. She’d learned the hard way that kingdoms built on lies would only crumble, but like any fallen empire, it can be reborn, this time with truth and the help of new friends. Lila found that damage could be mended brick-by-brick if she was just willing to open herself up, and Marinette, for one, was glad to have a new friend instead of an enemy.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #lila rossi #lila redemption #my writing

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mythologyfolklore · 4 years

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Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 11

Chapter Eleven: The Trojan War, pt. 03

(A/N: The end of the Iliad with some comic relief and lots of heartbreak at the end, because that's how the Iliad works. This isn't the last chapter about the Trojan War, but the next one will be. This is just the last part of the Iliad.)

Book Nineteen:

The next morning saw Thetis giving her son a freshly forged armour of such splendour, that Akhilleus was the only one who could even look at it directly.

As he marched the camp up and down, the other leaders came to the assembly, even though Agamemnon, Diomedes and Odysseus were severely injured and could hardly walk.

Akhilleus announced the end of his strike, much to the delight of the Achaean army.

He and Agamemnon finally talked things out and buried their old grudges.

“Right!”, Akhilleus exclaimed, “Enough talking! Let's go into battle already!”

“Not so fast!”, Odysseus (the resident braincell-owner) objected. “Our troops are exhausted and many of us are wounded. We need all the energy we can get. So there is one more thing we have to do first!”

“And what would that be?”, Akhilleus snarled impatiently.

“Have breakfast”, Odysseus deadpanned.

“OH COME ON!!!”

“No.”

Book Twenty:

On Olympos Zeus had made his ex-wife Thémis gather all the gods (literally all of them – even the Naiades and Dryades¹). Tiredly they dragged themselves out of bed and into the assembly hall.

Poseidon was the first to speak.

“Sooooo”, he drawled, “What are you plotting now, Astrapaios²?”

Zeus was lounging on his throne like a boss.

“Oh, you know what I want, Ennosigaios³! I won't wish for Akhilleus to conquer the city just yet, but he will, if we're not careful. And this is why I hereby decree, that the prohibition is lifted! You may interfere with the battle as much as you please!”

Suddenly everyone was wide awake and those who had taken a side in the war went to ready themselves for a battle royal – uh, I mean battle divine.

Of the Olympians, Dionysos (one of the few gods who had refused to get involved at all) was the last to leave the room. He used the opportunity to question his father.

“Dad, if you don't mind …”

“Ask away!”

“Why exactly did you change your mind again?”

Zeus chuckled at his son's perceptiveness.

“For the reason I stated earlier of course. Well, that and because I want to amuse myself by sitting here in my neutrality and watching this divine spectacle.”

“… Can I sit with you?”

“Sure, my son! Bring wine, this is going to be good!”

The gods joined the war and wasted no time in making things more interesting … for them!

Eris was having a blast with this spectacle.

Zeus was setting the mood above with thunder and rain.

Poseidon struck the ground with his trident and the queen of earthquakes happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK???”, he heard Hades' voice shriek from below, “POSEIDON, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING??? IF THE GROUND BREAKS OPEN AND FALLS DOWN IT WILL REVEAL THE UNDERWORLD AND BURY EVERYTHING BENEATH!!!”

Poseidon laughed sheepishly and yelled back down: “SORRY, BRO!”

Maybe I overdid it with that earthquake …

Some distance away, Apollon had convinced Aineías, that fighting Akhilleus would be a brilliant idea.

Poseidon didn't notice until Hera pat his shoulder and said to him and Athena: “Uh, we have a little problem back there” - and pointed to where Aineías and Akhilleus were about to duke it out.

“Don't worry, sister”, he replied, “We're stronger than them. If any of Troy's gods comes close to Akhilleus, that's nothing we can't take care of.”

Still, the gods of the Achaeans didn't want to engage in a bloodbath, before agreeing on a strategy.

On the battlefield, Aineías and Akhilleus ran into each other and started with a verbal duel, before lunging at each other. Poseidon quickly assessed, that the son of Thetis was outclassing the son of Aphrodite.

“Alright, here I come!”, he sighed, “Apollon won't save him, but the youngster is fated to live.”

Then he threw himself into the maddening throng and momentarily blinded Akhilleus, before he could decapitate the disarmed Trojan. Grabbing the mortal by the arms, Poseidon took to flight and carried him away to safety.

“Okay!”, he snapped at him, once they were back on the ground, “First off: Are you fucking insane?! Trying to take on Akhilleus, who is favoured by the gods and far stronger than you? He will send you to Hades, before your time is up! Secondly: as long as he is alive, you stay away from battle, you dumbass son of an even more dumbass goddess!”

With that, the Lord of the Sea left Aineías behind to wonder what the heck had just happened.

Akhilleus on the other hand just shrugged it off and went back to slaughtering Trojans en masse.

Apollon had warned Hektor not to go against the deranged demigod, but when the Trojan prince saw one of his brothers get killed by that very man, he forgot the warning and attacked him.

Akhilleus immediately recognised the slayer of his dear soulmate and charged with a battle cry.

But Apollon, always having the best timing, stepped in and saved the Trojan.

Again.

This is getting old.

Book Twenty-One:

The Trojans were fleeing in panic from the deranged and bloodthirsty demigod.

But Hera conjured a thick fog, making it impossible for them to see.

Those who didn't get lost in the fog where cornered and driven into the holy waters of the river Xanthos (or Skamandros, as the mortals called him). They jumped or fell into the quick waters, struggling and screaming for help. Akhilleus in his blood rush jumped after them and slaughtered the Trojans, who were already drowning, dyeing the waters red with blood.

That pissed off the river god, because no one liked having their waters defiled with gore and corpses. Politely requesting Akhilleus to stop dumping corpses into his river didn't help, so Xanthos lost his temper and promptly left his riverbed to make the demigod stop.

Only when this colossal mass of water rose before him, was Akhilleus seized by fear and he made a run for it across the field. But the river always caught up to him, because he was still just a demigod and Xanthos a full god and gods just were stronger than mortals (unless you were Herakles).

Athena and Poseidon came to his rescue, before he could die a most unheroic death by drowning. They warned him to go back to the battlefield, kill Hektor and return to the Achaean camp, then they left to mind their own business.

But the river wasn't done yet; it joined forces with another river, both hell-bent on drowning Akhilleus.

This was seen by Hera, who turned to Hephaistos. “My son, I thought you would take care of the river god? What are you waiting for? Show him your destructive flames. I will release the winds to fuel them. Do not stop, until I ask you to.”

Hephaistos, powerful fire god that he was, raised his arms and unleashed his divine fire above the river (never mind, that it was still raining). Hera released the north and south wind.

The unearthly fire storm, hotter than the surface of the sun⁴, spread across the heath, consumed the bodies of the dead and made the rivers writhe in agony from being boiled alive.

Xanthos soon begged for mercy, but Hephaistos was only following his mother's orders, so the river turned to Hera and begged her to control her son.

Now the Queen of the Skies finally showed the mercy asked of her and told her son to stop.

Hephaistos rolled his eyes, but called his fire back.

Xanthos returned to his river bed, recovered from the torment and he stuck his head out of the water to glare at the fire god. “And here I thought you were not an arsehole!”

The divine blacksmith laughed: “Oh, you're wrong! I'm less of an arsehole than the other Olympians, but I still can be a prick!”

Hera chuckled in amusement.

On his throne on Olympos, Zeus was having the time of his life, because now the gods were charging at each other at last.

“Ohhh, now they're getting started! This is going to be priceless! Where are the wine, cookies and my camera?”

Hebe and Dionysos brought him both and then sat with him to enjoy the show.

In the meantime, Athena had finally turned to Ares.

“'Sup, arsehole”, she greeted him.

“'Sup, fellow arsehole”, he retorted. Then he had his sword out. “Don't think I have forgot how you let that fucker Diomedes pierce with a spear! Now it's time for payback!”

I thought he already had- oh, never mind.

He attacked first and they duked it out for a while, before he threw his spear at the impenetrable Aigis she was wearing on her chest. Athena leapt back, grabbed a stone and hit her opponent at the back of his neck with it.

Knocked out, he collapsed.

“Hah!”, she yelled in triumph. “I'm the one who gets the payback! That's for abandoning your mother and me in favour of supporting the Trojans! Well, that and the fucking prohibition you put into our father's head. What's that with you always forgetting what everyone has realised a long time ago: that I am stronger than you and always will be!”

“Ares!”

Athena whirled around to see the goddess of love running to her lover's aid.

Aphrodite grabbed Ares' arm and began to drag him to safety.

“Are you just letting her do that?”, Hera spat at Athena.

The goddess of wisdom rolled her eyes. “Alright, I'm on it!”

Strode up to Aphrodite, who was struggling under Ares' weight and hit her on the chest, knocking her out as well. There they lay, with the bright-eyed goddess standing above them.

“This is what happens to the allies of Troy and everyone who gets in my way!”, she snarled.

Aphrodite came to herself and glared up. “You're full of shit, Athena.”

The war goddess shrugged. “Look around, Aphrodite. Everyone here is full of shit. Especially you.”

At the same time, Poseidon was facing Apollon.

The sea god taunted his nephew: “What is stopping you, Sunny Boy, now that the others are at each other's throats?”

Apollon sighed: “Can you please not call me 'Sunny Boy'? That's Ares' shtick. Also-”

“Whatever, Sunny Boy. Where is the fun in going home without a single scratch? Let's duke it out! But first tell me: why are you supporting the Trojans? Don't you remember how they treated us? When Zeus stripped us of our immortality for a year, we had to serve Laomedon for a pittance! I built this mighty wall around Troy, while you herded his cattle. And when the year was finally over, he denied us pay and threatened to bind us, cut our ears off and sell us off as slaves! And you're helping the Trojans, after all of this? Explain!”

But Apollon remained calm.

“Does it really matter? Let's leave the mortals to their devices. I don't want to fight you over them, uncle. You're way out of my league, it would be madness.”

But Artemis grabbed him by the shoulder, outraged. “So you're chickening out?! You just give up and let him win?! If so, then don't ever let us hear you brag, that you could take on Poseidon!”

But Apollon just arched an eyebrow. “I'm not 'chickening out'. I just know, when to quit – unlike someone I know.”

As if on cue, Hera confronted Artemis: “You little brat! If you have the spine to make me or Poseidon your enemy, you're dumber than I thought! I will show you, just how outclassed you really are!”

Then she seized the goddess of the hunt by both wrists with one hand, tore her quiver and arrows off her shoulder with the other and smacked the shit out of her with it. When Hera was done with her, Artemis was running back to Olympos crying, leaving her bow and arrows on the battlefield.

Hermes saw this and let his opponent Leto take the win. The Titanis of motherhood gratefully gathered up the weapons of her daughter from the floor and returned to Olympos to console her.

Apollon blinked after them. “What the Tartaros did just happen?”

Poseidon laughed heartily: “Just because my sister is the goddess of marriage doesn't mean she can't kick arse! Or where do you think Ares got his temper from?”

The Earthshaker looked to the sky and knew that Zeus was shaking with laughter.

On the battlefield Akhilleus was still massacring Trojans left and right.

The king Priamos saw this from the top of the wall and ordered for the gates to be opened, so his people could save themselves.

Apollon came onto the field through the gates and held his hand over them, while they scrambled to the sweet safety of their city. He took the shape of a Trojan Akhilleus had been about to kill and allowed to chase him across the field, away from the gates of Troy. That bought the Trojans the time they needed to escape the wrath of Thetis' son.

All of them, except for Hektor; he didn't make it in time, before the gates closed.

The greatest warrior of the Trojans was shut outside.

Book Twenty-Two:

Apollon led Akhilleus away from Troy, before finally turning around.

“Hey, arsehole! Guess who!” And dropped his disguise.

Then he proceeded to mock the raging demigod, who was out of breath after chasing him for kilometres: “While you ran after me like a moron, thinking that you stand a chance against me, the Trojans have barricaded themselves inside their city! They are out of your reach and you will never defeat me, Apollon!”

“You … you deceived me!”, Akhilleus gasped, “So is … the most lethal of the gods … the protector of Troy … otherwise I would have killed them all! But damn you! If it was in my power, I would give you payback!”

Apollon gritted his teeth: “But you can't, mortal.”

Akhilleus screamed in fury and dashed back to Troy with swift feet.

Hektor was waiting in front of the walls of Troy to challenge vengeful Akhilleus and face his imminent demise.

On top of the walls, his aged father was weeping over the cruelty of fate: that he would have to see his sons and many of his people die, his city sacked, his daughters ravaged, his grandchildren and himself murdered, his daughters-in-law sold into slavery.

But no matter how much Priamos beseeched him, Hektor didn't yield and stayed where he was, even though he was terrified. Yet as soon as he saw Akhilleus clearly, bloodthirsty and deranged like Ares himself, his flight instinct kicked in and he ran for his life. Only Apollon's assistance prevented the son of Thetis from catching up to Hektor.

While Akhilleus chased the slayer of Patroklos around the city walls three times in a row, the gods were watching from above.

Zeus shook his head. “I don't like seeing him being chased around his own city like that. And it's really a shame, that he should die already. He always honoured us gods beyond measure. Should I save this noble man or-”

“No!”, Athena protested at once, “His time is up, he must die! We can't randomly spare mortals, just because we favour them. Do whatever you want, but none of us will approve.”

“… Do what you must, but do it quickly.”

On Olympos, in the Room of Fate, the Scales of Fate weighed the lot of Hektor against Akhilleus.

That of Hektor sank, that of Akhilleus rose up.

Apollon, as the god of prophecy, sensed the shift and reluctantly left Hektor to face his doom.

Athena on the other hand joined the angry Akhilleus.

“Today the Achaeans will gain a most glorious victory! We shall slay Hektor! He is destined to die by our hands and not even Apollon's pleas to Zeus will save him now. Now hold up and catch your breath, while I persuade him to face you in battle.”

She caught up to Hektor in the shape of one of his brothers and did exactly that.

So the Trojan prince whirled around to face the son of Peleus.

They had a short dispute. Hektor entreated his opponent to agree, that the loser be returned to his people to receive a proper burial.

But Akhilleus refused: “FUCK YOUR PROPOSAL! YOU WILL PAY FOR THE DEATH OF PATROKLOS AND ALL OF MY FRIENDS WHOM YOU KILLED!!!”

“OH SHUT UP, ARSEHOLE! YOU AND YOUR COMRADES KILLED MOST OF MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS TOO! AND ONCE YOU TAKE OVER OUR CITY, YOU WILL RAVAGE IT, MASSACRE THE CIVILIANS, VIOLATE AND ENSLAVE OUR WOMEN AND KILL OUR CHILDREN!!! I AM DOING WHATEVER I CAN TO PROTECT THEM!!! YOU DON'T GET TO JUDGE ME!!!”, Hektor roared in outrage.⁵

Then they threw their spears at each other.

Hektor dodged that of Akhilleus, but his own weapon flew far off, guided by Athena's hand. When he turned to whom he had thought to be his dear brother to ask for a new spear, but found him gone.

The Trojan prince realised, that he had been tricked by Athena and that the gods had decided his doom a long time ago.

“Well, fuck this shit”, he muttered, pulled his sword to face his last battle.

Their fight was short and brutal.

At long last, Akhilleus managed to stab him in the throat.

But he had narrowly missed the windpipe and so Hektor was able to rattle a few last words.

“If you have … an ounce of honour … return my corpse … to my parents … so I can be buried.”

“No.”

“Thought as much … but know this … you're – ugh! – angering the gods … you will die … by Apollon's and Paris' arrows …”

Then the greatest defender of Troy died.

For a while Akhilleus stood silently above him.

Then he finally replied to the dead man: “I know. And I don't care.”

And proceeded to outrage his vanquished enemy's corpse by tying it to his chariot and dragging it around his city several times.

While on the walls above, his grieving parents, his sorrow-stricken wife Andromákhe and the people of Troy were weeping to the Heavens.

Book Twenty-Three:

Akhilleus held funeral games for Patroklos and, after much more mourning, finally delivered him to the pyre.

Hektor's dishonoured corpse on the other hand he left to the dogs.

The dogs that would not go near it; the presence of the goddess Aphrodite, who guarded it night and day, kept them away. She and Apollon preserved his corpse, so that neither the scorching sun, nor being hauled around by Akhilleus could damage it.

The burned remains of Patroklos were put to rest in a golden urn – one that his ghost had asked Akhilleus to put them in and mix them with his own, once the son of Thetis would die.

Book Twenty-Four:

All the while Apollon had protected Hektor's corpse from being mutilated, while Akhilleus didn't stop treating it like that of a common criminal.

Day after day he and the other gods who were supporting Troy begged Zeus to send Hermes to steal away the body. And every time Poseidon, Hera and Athena had been against it, unyielding in their old grudges.

After a week, the god of light finally had enough.

“How much longer”, he confronted the other gods, “do you want to allow Akhilleus to abuse the body of Hektor in such a foul manner?! Does none of you have a heart?! Has he ever failed to give you the best possible sacrifices?! Instead of returned his body to his people to receive the funeral he deserves, you choose being butt-hurt about the stupidity of that wuss Paris and that's why you help that sociopath Akhilleus, who doesn't have an ounce of propriety, shame or even respect in his chest! Many others are mourning their loved ones and he acts like he's the only one! As honourable as his parents are, they failed to raise a decent human being!“

Hera jumped up and pointed a finger at him: “Stop going on about Hektor, like he has ever been Akhilleus' equal! One was only a full mortal, while the other is the son of Thetis, whom I raised and married to Peleus, who we all were fond of!”

“That doesn't change the fact, that Akhilleus is a fucking arsehole!”, Apollon snapped.

“Or that he wouldn't know honour, if it spat in his face!”, Artemis agreed.

“Or that he's a whiny mother's boy”, Ares added.

Hera flushed with rage. “How dare you!”, she exclaimed, “All of you have been at the wedding of his parents! You ate, drank, danced and made music-”

“So?”, Ares said coldly, “Akhilleus is not his parents. We are not obliged to him, nor to Thetis and Peleus and definitely not to you. Hektor respected us gods and other humans more than he does.”

Hera's eyes narrowed. “That's it! I will-”

“ENOUGH!!!”, Zeus thundered and everyone fell silent.

Angrily he turned to Hera: “I've had enough of your attitude! No one here is putting Hektor and Akhilleus on the same level! And all things considered, Hektor was beloved by us. He always knew what kind of sacrifices I and all of you wished for, never failed to honour us and only gave us the best of the best. Still, stealing the body is not an option either. Bring me Thetis. She shall persuade her son to give Hektor's body up to his father.”

After Thetis had been welcomed by the gods, Zeus cut to the chase: “Let your son know, that we're angered by his behaviour. He is to return the body of Hektor to the Trojans for ransom – this is my will. He knows what happens to mortals, who do not follow it.”

Thetis nodded and returned to her son to inform him of Zeus' decree.

Later that evening Iris descended to the earth again, this time to tell Priamos, that Zeus was doing him one last favour: the returning of his son's body.

So Priamos packed rich gifts as ransom and went, but not before making a sacrifice of Zeus and venting his bitterness about how the cruelty of Ares had robbed and would keep robbing him of his loved ones.

As Zeus saw the elderly man and his aged herald cross the bloodstained plain in the darkness, he was overcome by pity. He waved Hermes over and fondly ruffled the messenger's hair.

The second youngest Olympian endured it, as always.

“My beloved son, who holds mankind dearest, guides them and listens to them. Go and escort Priamos to the Achaean ships, but make sure that no one sees him, before he stands in front of the son of Peleus.”

Hermes put on his winged sandals and staff and landed on the coast near the ships in the guise of a young soldier from Akhilleus' troops. With his staff, he lulled the Achaeans to sleep, before going to find Priamos.

As he came into the king's field of view, he could tell that the old man was frightened.

But Hermes gently took the old man's hands and asked kindly: “Who are you, sir? What are you and your companion there doing out here in the middle of the night and with so much treasure? Don't you know how dangerous that is?”

“You're right, young man”, Priamos replied, “But one god must have at least some mercy with me. It must be a good omen, that we meet you here; I can see your wisdom as well as your beauty – you must have blessed parents.”

That I do, Hermes thought fondly, but kept his focus.

“That's true. But do answer my question. Are you trying to hide them, or are you all fleeing your city in panic, because you lost your best fighter – your son Hektor, the greatest of your warriors?”

Priamos tilted his head. “How do you know about my son? Who are you?”

“One of the soldiers of Akhilleus”, Hermes fibbed, “I often saw your son on the field of glory, even when we weren't allowed to fight, because our lord wouldn't let us.”

“Really!”, the king cried hopefully, “Tell me, what happened to my son's body? Is it still intact at the ships? Akhilleus didn't … he didn't … did he …?”

“It's still intact”, the Messenger soothed him. “Nothing of the outrage it suffered by Akhilleus could damage it – if it wasn't for the wounds, one could think he's sleeping! The gods care for him even in death.”

He couldn't help but feel horrible for the sorrow-stricken old man, who nearly burst into tears at these news and who really deserved better than all this woe.

Deciding to make it quick, before the mortal's suffering could get to him, Hermes guided Priamos to Akhilleus' tent.

Once there, he revealed himself: “Now I can tell you, that I am the god Hermes. My father sent me to guide and protect you. I must stay outside, because I don't want the trouble of being seen. But listen to me: when you go in there, clasp the knees of Peleus' son and beseech him in the name of his own dear parents, if you want him to hear you.”

Akhilleus gaped in amazement, as none other than Priamos came before him.

The long-suffering king of Troy fell onto his knees in front of his greatest enemy, clasping the knees and kissing the hands of the man, who had slain his children.

After reminding him of his father Peleus, who was waiting for his son to come home, Priamos ended his plea: “Fifty sons I had, before you Achaeans came and I got to keep none of them! Most were felled by cruel Ares. And the one son I could count on, the defender of my city and its inhabitants – oh Hektor, my child! – fell by your hand. I'm here to ransom him with rich gifts. Respect the gods and think of your father. Even more than him I have a right to your mercy, because I did what no other father in the world could ever bring himself to do: I kissed the hand of the man who murdered my son.”

The sight of this old man's infinite grief and the memory of his own father, who too would never see him again, did something to Akhilleus.

There was no more wrath in him, only sadness and grief.

That and something new.

Something he had never felt before: Compassion.

Hektor's body was ransomed and returned to his people.

Even on Olympos the gods could hear the crying of the Trojans for their prince.

The people, who mourned their greatest hero.

His parents, who lost their dearest son.

His remaining siblings, who lost the brother they had looked up to.

His widow, who hadn't been able to be at her husband's side, while he was dying.

Helena, who had been taken here against her will and was now mourning the only man besides Priamos, who had treated her with kindness, the only friend she'd had here.

The Trojans keened and bewailed Hektor for ten days.

On the eleventh day he was brought to the pyre.

The smoke rose high and with it carried prayers and weeping.

---

1) Naiades: river nymphs; Dryades: tree nymphs.

2) Astrapaios: "Lord of Lightning", one of Zeus' epithets.

3) Ennosigaios: "Shaker of the Earth", one of Poseidon's epithets.

4) The surface of the sun is appr. 5000°C hot.

5) In the Iliad Hektor doesn't actually respond to Akhilleus' refusal like that, but I thought that this was important to point out.

4 notes · View notes

lokimostly · 5 years

Text

Home from War (Ch.3/8)

James Conrad x Reader Word Count: 5,255 (TOO MANY) Warnings: none Fic Summary: One year after you lost the love of your life, a last-minute decision changes everything you thought you knew. Now only one question remains: how to make it out alive, and return home from war?

A/N: it’s four in the morning and I am ... so tired. Excuse any typos. Also, yeah, this chapter is monstrously long, but I had no idea where to split it, so let me know how you feel on that note. Tag list is open! Lots and lots of sleepy love - Ariel

You were avoiding him. He was sure of it now.

Why? He wondered as he led the group through the jungle. The two of you had undeniably shared something inside the helicopter.

It hurt. Just looking at you was like drinking poison that he couldn’t live without, and yet every so often he would glance back, taking you in for only a fraction of a second. It was all he could bear.

There was nothing Conrad wanted more than to have a chance to hold you again, to offer apologies between kisses, mend your heart with his words, but … how? You had turned your grief to armor, it seemed.

He didn’t want to break through your armor, just to take it off.

You seemed friendly enough with Slivko and the other soldiers – then again, you were one of them. They were dependable, steadfast. Just familiar enough to let your guard down around.

That was one of many things that had changed, it seemed. Conrad was decommissioned, and free to follow his heart. You, on the other hand, couldn’t take such liberties. You were still under the jurisdiction of the U.S. military, and had to act with caution and reserve.

Perhaps that had to be considered as a reason for your actions. Maybe, he thought, with just a glimmer of hope, you didn’t hate him, after all.

At the back of the group, you were doing your best to ignore Conrad as usual. At this point, there was nothing you wanted more than to be held in his arms again, the way he had in the helicopter. You wanted to listen to his deep, accented voice in your ear, feel his hands on your skin, shiver at his breath on your neck.

But you had enough to focus on besides the imaginary thought of him. In order to combat this walking destraction, you brought up the back of the group with Slivko, hands on your rifle, and glancing up at Conrad only when you dared. The heat of the jungle had you sweating in droves, but he seemed unaffected by it: at most, it made his muscled arms glisten and the fabric of his shirt hug his muscled chest more tightly. Frankly, it was unfair.

Slivko's young, babyish face was contorted with distress as he tried in vain to communicate over radio. “This is Slivko, do you read? is anybody out there? We’re headed north to the exfil location. Everyone here seems way too calm right now. Do you copy? Anybody?”

“We’re out of range, Sliv,” you pointed out gently, glancing behind you occasionally as you walked. “Save it for when we get closer to the group.”

The huge trees on either side were thick with vines and peeling bark, surrounded by outcroppings of brown rock. Insects buzzed and birds sang unfamiliar melodies far above you, reminding you that you were a long way from home. It wasn’t a good feeling.

The terrain sloped downward. It was a welcome relief on your already-sore calves. You took the opportunity to unzip your bag, slinging it over one shoulder as you ran a mental checklist of supplies while you walked.

You seethed silently about your lost medical bag on the Sea Stallion, and all the equipment inside. If only you’d had the foresight to pack your personal bag more thoroughly.

With luck, none of the men you met up with would be in critical condition. If there were, there was only so much you could do with gauze, antiseptic, and a meager six doses of morphine.

More outcroppings of rock began to appear. They almost seemed cut– their sharp angles resembling huge bricks. You decided to worry yourself with the contents of your bag instead, ignoring the changing terrain around you, until suddenly the party stopped.

You kept walking, unbothered, until Conrad held out his arm to stop you. You looked up. “What–”

He shook his head, motioning for silence. You looked ahead. There was a brick wall, made of the same stone you’d seen earlier, but this wasn’t any natural outcropping. The rocks made a broken, circular arch, some of the surface covered in faded yellow stripes of paint. Moss grew in between the cracks, along rotted beams and broken walls.

You weren’t alone on the island.

Conrad slowly moved his hand to his gun, proceeding forward with caution. You zipped your bag as quietly as you could and wrapped your fingers around your own M16, following him underneath the arch.

The rest of the group trickled in, walking slowly through the dilapidated structure. It seemed uninhabited.

Mason gasped aloud. “Behind you!”

The silence broke like a water balloon. Camouflaged natives appeared out of thin air, their bodies painted to match the dilapidated stones. Against the grey and yellow, the whites of their eyes stood out. Spears and pointed weapons were at your throats before you had time to react.

Naturally, the group panicked. Slivko’s hands flew for his gun and he brandished it frantically.

“Everybody stay calm!” Conrad soothed, holding one hand out in a desperate attempt to get the civilians to lower their weapons.

Slivko’s eyes were wild and skittish. “What the hell–”

“Conrad!” Mason cried desperately, stumbling backwards as they closed in.

“Stay calm!” You repeated, your own weapon brandished.

“Nobody shoot, nobody shoot,” Conrad urged, holding his free arm out protectively against you.

One of the painted natives jabbed their weapon forward, inches from your throat. Conrad wasted no time in pulling you forcibly behind him, brandishing his weapon and clenching his jaw.

“Stay. Calm.” He ordered, in a tone you’d never heard before. It turned your blood cold. You put your hand on his shoulder and felt the taut muscle beneath.

“Conrad,” you said quietly, speaking slowly so that your voice wouldn’t tremble. “What do we–”

But you were interrupted.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need for that, come on now! Everybody keep your wigs on now!” A voice cried, coming around the rubble.

You were stunned into silence. A disheveled looking man appeared, jogging through the archway like he was late for the party.

“This cannot get weirder,” Mason muttered.

Round-faced and stout, the man’s curly hair and beard were unkempt and greying. He was dressed in a vintage uniform, which looked as old as he was, and obviously hadn’t been kept in very good condition.

“What?” Slivko, weakly. He looked about to cry from stress.

The man smiled toothily, his eyes slightly crazed. “I couldn’t believe it when they said you were coming,” he grinned, his voice trembling with emotion. “I was up all night, just thinking about how me and Gunpei dreamed of this moment. And now here it is. 28 years, 11 months, and 8 failed attempts to get back to the world, and instead the world comes to me?” He laughed tremulously. “Ain’t that a crack?”

He looked back at the natives, whose spears were still upright and pointed at your group.

“They never smile,” he said, looking back at you with watery eyes and an apologetic shrug.

“Did you crash here?” you asked, unable to hold your tongue. You stepped forward as you spoke, and Conrad quickly put his arm out to hold you back.

The man’s soft eyes brightened. “Oh! Sorry, miss.” He reached up, carefully tipping his uniform hat and introducing himself. “Lieutenant Hank Marlow of the 45th. Put the old flight suit on for you.” He tugged on the edges of the material with both pride and bashfulness, before turning back to the natives.

“I told you! Didn’t I tell ya? It’s fine,” Marlow soothed, shaking his head. They lowered their spears, expressions no different than when their weapons had been brandished.

“There’s something out there, man,” Slivko said shakily, his voice cracking.

Marlow smiled weakly, this time in understanding. “Oh, there’s a lot out there. Now c’mon–” he gestured for you to follow. “We gotta get home. You don’t wanna be out here at night.”

You’d thought this island couldn’t possibly be any stranger. But after everything you’d seen– the giant monsters, the inhabitants, the wildlife – you had resigned yourself to fact that this was simply unlike any place you’d ever been.

Marlow had wasted no time in taking your group to the only safe place on the island: the home of the local inhabitants, who he called the Iwis. Their village was kept safe only by an incredible feat of architecture: a giant wall spanning the length of the valley’s opening, cutting across the wetland and effectively barricading anything from getting in. More specifically, keeping out what he called the Skull Crawlers– whatever they were.

You didn’t want to find out.

After the field trip, Marlow had offered the group both a place to stay the night and a potential ride to the exfil: a makeshift watercraft in dire need of fixing.

The sun was already high in the sky, and there were only about thirty-six hours until scheduled departure. Slivko, Conrad, and the other boys were on their way to the river, while Mason and the others had wandered off to explore the village. You, however, had other interests.

You caught Marlow’s arm just before he left. “Sir,” you began apologetically, unsure how to address him. The WWII veteran was undeniably a bit crazy, but he outranked you nonetheless. “These people, you mentioned their medicine–”

“That’s right!” He interrupted, brightening. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

You chuckled and cleared your throat. “Not quite. Nurse.”

Marlow waved his hand dismissively and turned around, walking off. You trotted behind him, following as he rambled.

“These people have medicine that seems to stop age,” he explained. “No sickness, either. I haven’t had a cold since I’ve been here.” He smiled. “I don’t know much about it, but I can show you what I do know.”

He walked until the worn down paths turned to long grass, leading you to a stone structure close to the wall. Unlike the first archway you’d encountered in the forest, which was in disrepair, this had been well-kept.

When the wooden door opened and you stepped inside, a gasp escaped your lips.

The sight that met your eyes was like a dream. Everywhere you looked, something new beheld your attention. Glowing mushrooms and raw quartz hanging from the ceiling, charged with light and glowing on their own. There were hanging plants and herbs, dried and soaking in ferment, made into concoctions that were neatly stored. Not only were the medical remedies here and available to you, but their ingredients as well– perfectly laid out for your study. With any luck, these could lead to cures the modern world barely dreamed of.

You only half-heard Marlow excuse himself as he left you to ponder. You set down your bag and shuffled through its contents, remembering something you’d seen inside earlier– sample bottles. Letting your fingers dance over the items on the shelves, you chose the first containers and plants that caught your eye, setting them out on the stone counter.

Collecting these samples would take you hours, no doubt, but it was worth your while. After all, if you’re stuck on an uncharted island, you might as well be productive.

Conrad stepped off the haphazard boat, wiping the oil from his hands. He squinted up at the green mountains, their silhouettes glowing from the light of the setting sun. The sky was already growing dark. Stars had begun to appear in clusters, taking the sun’s place in lighting the path from Marlow’s waterboat to the bridge of The Wanderer, the wrecked freight ship where Marlow had offered to let the group stay the night.

Apparently, the bridge of the ship was still relatively intact, and had more than enough room for your happy troop. Conrad would take it over making camp in the woods any day.

His thoughts drifted to you. As he travelled through the grass and ascended the old metal stairs, following their narrow path, he wondered if tonight would be the night to break your mutual silence. He could only hope.

Conrad came up to the bridge. It had been crudely decorated over the years, made into something that could conceivably called a “home.” Sketches and painted figures on the wall, odd assortments of belongings and scrap metal, all accumulated by Marlow over the past twenty-nine years.

Slivko had set up a portable record player, filling the room with David Bowie’s voice as he sang the tune of Ziggy Stardust. He was perusing the drawings on the wall like they were pages of an open magazine, flipping one of the Iwi spears around in his hand. The scientists Brooks and Miss San were talking in low voices down one of the hallways while she flipped through his notebook.

Marlow sat in front of a shattered mirror, carefully shaving his face.

“What kind of music is that?” He asked Slivko without turning around, his shaky hand focused on cutting a straight line. “What happened to swing? Benny Goodman?”

Slivko laughed, tossing the spear from hand to hand. “You’re like a time traveler, man. I’m telling you, this is the new sound.”

The old man grumbled in response, scowling into the mirror. “I don’t know if i’m gonna like whoever’s under this beard.”

Nieves crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Listen, I really hope that that thing you call a boat can get us upriver in thirty-six hours, because if we miss that window,” he said tremulously, “we’re, uh, literally up a creek.”

“If the boat doesn’t work, we’ll just take the train.”

Conrad left the idle chatter and ducked under a rusted beam, making his way to the balcony where Mason Weaver stood with her camera. Her dark eyes were fixed on the night sky, where a stunning display of the aurora borealis were glowing in vibrant hues of purple and green.

“Isn’t it odd that the most dangerous places are often the most beautiful?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he came to stand next to her, watching the lights. From way up here, the island almost looked peaceful.

She hummed in response. “I’m trying to take a long exposure photograph, but…” she held up a small, black flashlight. “My flashlight broke.”

“That’s a shame,” he murmured, turning back and looking around the room. He paused. “Has L/N come up yet?”

Mason frowned, looking around. “No… I haven’t seen her since we first got here, actually.”

There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Slivko?” He called over his shoulder.

The volume of the record turned down and he appeared on the balcony, spear in hand. “Where’s Nurse L/N?” Conrad asked.

Slivko’s expression turned to worry. “I – I don’t know.”

Damn it, he thought, as anxiety rose in his throat. Without a moment’s hesitation, Conrad moved past him, picking up his rifle and pulling the strap over his shoulder.

“I’m going out to find her,” he announced, heading back down the rusted metal stairs. The echo of his footsteps rang out loudly in the dark. As soon as his feet hit solid ground, Conrad broke into a run, heading towards the lights of the village.

Please, he prayed, to whoever might be listening. Please be alright.

The sun had set almost an hour ago, but you hadn’t noticed. As you’d predicted, taking samples of the medicines was a time-consuming task– not that you didn’t enjoy it.

You were carefully sealing a small container with some herbal samples when the wooden door flew open with a crash.

You shrieked, nearly dropping the container as you whirled around to face Conrad, who stood in the doorway. His chest was heaving from running. The borealis lights in the night sky cast his figure in an ethereal glow.

You stared at the expression on his face and suddenly it dawned on you. “What are you doing?” You asked slowly, raising an eyebrow and pressing your lips together.

He shook his head, still panting, and straightened up. “Nothing,” He replied breathlessly, clearing his throat and avoiding your eyes.

“You were worried about me,” you declared, smirking openly. You continued before he could reply. “Good thing you’re here. I was about to venture out for some more of these–” you gestured to one of the glowing plants, which illuminated a purple, bioluminescent hue. “I saw some on our way in, they grow right outside the wall. C’mon.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you put away the last jar of samples and moved past him. He’ll follow, you thought confidently, a small smile on your face, as you made your way towards the wall.

“Wh–” Conrad stared at you, watching you plod off into the dark. Sure enough, he pushed himself off of the wall and jogged to catch up to you, slowing down at your heels.

“Nurse L/N,” he said, exasperated and attempting to maintain some semblance of formality, “We should go back. It’s dark, and neither of us know what’s out there.”

“I’ve got you to protect me, haven’t I?” You asked testily, striding through the grass.

“Always.”

The candidness of his response caused your feet to falter, and you nearly made the mistake of looking back at him, and getting lost in his eyes again. Even in the dark, staring into them was like being pulled out by a riptide.

“C’mon,” you said finally, picking up your previous pace and ducking into the small opening of the wall, moving slowly through to the other side.

Stepping into the world beyond the wall filled you with immediate dread and adrenaline. Your senses felt recalibrated – every small sound seemed deafening, and any hint of movement across the wetlands made your heart jump in your throat.

You could feel Conrad practically breathing down your neck, he was so close. You forced yourself to focus instead on the task at hand, scanning your surroundings until you found what you were looking for.

“There,” you whispered, elbowing him gently and pointing to the west, where the wetland turned to solid ground, on the outskirts of the forest. Clumps of the purple plant were growing between the roots of the trees, shining gently in the dark.

Conrad trailed behind you, holding his gun ready as the two of you treaded carefully through the shallow water.

“This is dangerous. We should go back,” he said lowly, caution and foreboding clear in his voice.

“I don’t see any big monsters, do you?” you hissed back. You slowly moved further away from the wall and out of the water, stepping soft-footed along the bank and up the ridge towards the trees. At some points you used the outcroppings of rocks for handholds when the terrain was too steep and slippery– the last thing you wanted was to make noise. Who knew what might be listening.

You could feel the heat radiating off of Conrad’s body as he followed close behind, and his frustration, too– though in your mind, he completely deserved it for everything he’d put you through. Honestly, you wouldn’t have ventured out to look for the plants if he hadn’t suddenly appeared, like some tall, heavily exasperated Prince Charming.

Finally you reached the edge of the forest, where the skirt of trees was thin and the plants glowed dimly in the dark. Kneeling down on the earth and pulling out a small knife, you set to work at cutting their stems, placing them carefully inside your backpack.

Conrad stood above you, gun brandished, looking around tensely and fingering the cold metal.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, using your first name to catch your attention. “This is insane. We have no idea what’s out here.”

“I’m almost done,” You whispered, unfazed by his anxiety.

He clenched his jaw and shook his head, looking out over the water. “The last thing we need is for you to get hurt.”

“Conrad, I promise you that if I get hurt it won’t be out of insanity,” you insisted, taking the last of the plants and sheathing your knife.

You grunted and stood up, zipping up your bag. “See? I’m–”

Conrad pushed you against the nearest tree without warning, pressing his large hand to your mouth. Your objection came out as a muffled noise and you glared at him, but he shook his head fervently.

There was something moving through the water, across the wetland. Something big.

You huffed quietly and forced yourself to focus. Suddenly you could hear the movement of the water, the sound of feet shaking the earth in small tremors. Your heart was in your mouth. You swallowed it down, beginning to shake with adrenaline.

Conrad’s body was pressed flush against yours in the dark, holding you against the peeling bark. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest. You reached up slowly, peeling his hand away from your mouth and letting out a shaky breath. “Can it see us?” You whispered.

“Shh,” he responded, looking around as carefully as he could. He could make out the silhouette of a gigantic creature, swinging its muscled tail as it prowled along the wall. Its tongue flickered out to taste the air.

A Skull Crawler. It could be nothing else.

The unshakable feeling of impending doom was like electrocution on your nerves. Your body was frozen in fear. The monster growled: an unholy noise coming out of the back of its long throat, echoing in the dark.

You suddenly realized that every breath could be your last.

“Conrad,” you started, barely audible.

“It’s alright,” he whispered distractedly, his eyes flickering from the monster to the wall as he tried desperately to think of some plan, some way that you could escape to safety.

“James, I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears coming to your eyes. You weren’t sure what you were apologising for: more than likely, everything. The stubbornness. The heartache of being inches from your love without saying a word. Condemning him to death like this.

Conrad was quiet for a moment, barely breathing. The pause was so long that you almost thought he hadn’t heard what you said; more than that, you weren’t sure you had the courage to repeat it again.

“Not as sorry as I am,” he murmured finally, his hand sliding down your arm to hold gently onto your own.

Your heart swelled so much that it hurt..

“C’mon,” he breathed, as if holding your hand had given him a shot of liquid courage. He pulled you gently away from the tree, both hands devoted to guiding you along the bank. “Let’s try and get back, quietly now.”

You nodded, mouth dry, and followed him through the dark. The auroras in the sky had faded, leaving nothing but a brilliant blanket of stars. They cast a shadowy, black-and-white light over the earth, casting the strange world around you in a much harsher light. You crept through the long grass, heading downhill towards the small, human-sized gap in the wall. You could barely see it.

But you could see the Skull Crawler.

It was monstrous. Walking on two enormous, muscled legs, its claws churned up the water where it stepped. The front of its head looked like bone, as if its leathery skin had stopped growing halfway down the skull. You could smell its breath from here– raw, rotting meat stuck between its jagged teeth.

“Carefully,” Conrad whispered, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. “Quietly as you can.”

You lowered yourself into the water. The waves lapped at your legs, threatening to make noise at any movement that was too fast or too sudden. You forced your body to stop shaking, exhaling softly and creeping through the water and grass.

The monster raised its head in the air, and you froze. Its tail stopped swinging. It turned its head. You watched its beady eye scan the water, fixate on you.

And it roared.

“Nevermind! Run!” Conrad shouted, surging forward.

You shouted in terror as the Skull Crawler ran towards you, its powerful legs churning up the water. Conrad’s hand was locked with yours with a grip so strong that it cut off the flow of your blood. You half-ran, half-swam your way to the wall. He pulled you through the water with every ounce of his strength, determined to beat the monster to the chase.

The hellish creature lunged through the water, pounding the earth with every step, determined to have you for lunch.

It was going to beat you to the gap. You’d be trapped.

You were going to die.

There was a sudden, blinding beam of light from over the wall. Like a white rod of lightning, it blinded the Skull Crawler for the merest fraction of a second, inciting its howl of monstrous rage at being suddenly unable to see.

It was just enough.

Conrad pulled himself up onto the bank, dragging you with him as you stumbled over your feet. Your clothes were drenched. You could feel the extra weight of every drop as you sprinted, hand in hand, and ducked into the gap inside the wall.

You felt the wind of the monster’s movement and the splinters of wood as it clawed at the wall in a vain attempt to reach you. It howled in rage, loud and terrifying enough to turn your blood cold, even though you were out of its reach.

You didn’t stop running. You and Conrad sprinted through the tall grass even though your lungs were burning. As you ran, you looked up at the bridge of The Wanderer, where one of the old fog lights burned brightly in the dark. After a few more seconds, it shut off, the halo of light burned into your retinas.

There was no change in pace until you reached the stone structure. Conrad dragged you inside, slamming the door behind him for good measure, his chest heaving as he leaned his head back against the wood.

You coughed, leaning down with your hands on your knees for a moment to catch your breath. Your hand was stiff from being gripped so hard, clothes sticking to you and dripping onto the dirt floor.

“Insane,” he gasped, speaking between breaths. His muscular chest expanded as he tried to level his breathing, his own shirt skin-tight and soaked. “I told you.”

“I’m sorry,” you coughed in reply, putting one hand on your throat and screwing your eyes shut. After a few more seconds, the burning in your lungs subsided. You took a deep, measured breath and set down your bag, which felt unbearably heavy.

“I got what I wanted, didn’t I?” You added belatedly, relishing the ability to talk at a normal volume. You reached up and undid your hair, wringing it out with shivering hands.

Conrad shook his head against the wood before opening his eyes and looking at you. “Nearly at the cost of our necks,” he countered, pushing himself off the wall and stepping towards you. You took an instinctive step back. Had he always been this tall?

“You’re mad,” he continued, taking another step. This time you forced yourself to stand still, trying in vain to calm your heartbeat as you stared up into his dark eyes. The light trickling in from outside illuminated only the outlines of his face: the curve of his jaw, the angle of his cheekbones. His hair was curled from the water and his skin glistened in the dark.

“You love me, though,” you said quietly, raising your eyebrows in an illusion of bravado. But your voice gave you away – so small, and so timid, that you hardly heard yourself.

Conrad chuckled, shaking his head and averting his gaze. He fidgeted, catching your hands by the fingertips and holding them loosely, turning them over in his palms. They were tiny in comparison, and shaking from the cold.

He looked up at your face again, squinting in the dark. “There’s hardly any light in here,” he murmured, skirting around the subject.

You raised your eyebrows and your face flushed. “Oh, I… here. ” Grateful for a distraction from his electrifying touch,, you reached deep into the pocket of your cargo pants. Your fingers wrapped around the cold, familiar metal that you had fingered and toyed with over the last year, longing for its owner.

You pulled it out of your pocket and pressed it into his palm.

“It’s yours,” you murmured, watching his face carefully. Realization dawned on his features and you saw his eyebrows raise in the dark as he flipped it in his palm.

“I gave it to you, didn’t I?” He asked, shaking his hand to dry it before flicking it open with his thumb. It sputtered to life, illuminating the room with its small golden flame and casting a soft shadow on his face. In the new light you could see the tremble of Conrad’s chest as he inhaled, the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallowed. He was nervous– far more nervous than he had been in the face of death.

You nodded in response, finding yourself closer to his lips than was good for talking. “As a promise,” you reminded him.

“Did I keep it?” he asked, his mouth barely open. His blue-green eyes kept flickering to your lips. “My promise.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words. You were too focused on the closeness of Conrad’s lips, the remembrance of their taste. It roused a deep, warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, the kind that made your heart skip and your limbs tremble. His eyes kept flickering to yours, torn between the beauty of your face and the tantalising temptation of your kiss, until you were only centimeters apart. You could feel his breath on your skin, raising the fine hairs on the back of your neck. He was so close.

The door opened. Slivko held up a torch, panting, and looking between the two of you with a confused stare.

“L/N? Are you guys okay?” He asked. “Marlow, uh, thought you might be out there and he turned on the fog light. Scared one of the monsters away.”

Conrad pulled away from you, and it felt like the breath left your lungs.

“Yes, and it saved us. Thank you,” he added, clasping his hands behind his back and clearing his throat.

Slivko glanced between you and Conrad, blinking in the dark. He pushed his red headband up his forehead. “Uh huh. Well…”

“...we’re coming back, yes,” Conrad nodded, looking to you with a completely professional expression. “Are we finished here, Nurse?”

Absolutely not, you wanted to scream.

“I think so,” you smiled politely, picking your bag up and following Slivko out the door. Conrad trailed behind you, his footsteps shadowing yours as you walked along the path towards the ship. The grass whistled softly in the wind.

You were wringing out the fabric of your shirt when you felt Conrad’s hand wrap gently around your wrist, and press the lighter back into your palm. You glanced up at him in alarm.

Was he giving it back? What did it mean? You knew your heart would break if he refused you now.

“James?”

He put a finger to his lips, nodding to Slivko just a few meters ahead of you. Then he squeezed your hand comfortingly, warm and lingering, before letting go.

“It’s yours,” he murmured, raising an eyebrow as you walked. A hint of a smile on his lips. “For insurance. You won’t lose me again.”

You smiled in the dark.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry about all the side-character dialogue (necessary evil). Tag list is open, loves. I plan on sleeping till noon- leave me some comments to wake up to!

Tag List: @tarynkauai, @jessiejunebug, @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi, @fire-in-her-veinz, @daylight-swiftt, @un-consider-it, @torntaltos, @majahu, @et-puto, @kinghiddlestonanddixon, @awesomefandomsunited, @damalseer, @uinen-ulmiel, @fire-in-her-veinz, @naspter1129, @fandomdarlings, @embracingtom

#james conrad #james conrad x reader #captain james conrad x reader #james conrad x you #reader insert #oc #kong #kong: skull island #kaiju #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #james conrad fanfic #angst #fluff #monster

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